Maybe One Day

Three Months Earlier

Hermione's Floo flared to life and she dropped the book she had been skimming through to answer it. She was more than a bit shocked to see Professor McGonagall looking back at her. When she came into the room, the old Professor heaved a sigh of relief and gave Hermione a grateful smile.

"I'm glad I caught you while you were home, Miss Granger." Hermione came closer and peered down at her Professor, smiling slightly.

"Hello, Professor. What can I do for you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow when McGonagall disappeared for a moment, before quickly rushing back again.

"It seems we have a bit of a problem. It's hard to explain but if you'd come through?" McGonagall trailed off, stepping back again to let Hermione step through the Floo.

When she walked through, she found herself in Hogwart's infirmary. It was empty except for one bed all the way at the end of the room. Hermione ignored it for the moment and faced McGonagall, waiting for an explanation.

"Miss Granger, I realize we haven't kept you updated about things here since you graduated, yet I believe that your help here would be greatly appreciated, if you would lend it."

McGonagall sounded at the end of her wits and nearly desperate. Hermione nodded without even thinking. "Of course, Professor. What's going on?"

Turning to look down the hall at the one occupied bed, Hermione followed her gaze and studied the tiny child curled up on the bed. It was a little boy, too young to be a student, maybe five years old. He had dirty black hair and frighteningly pale skin. His eyes were tightly shut and there were dark purple circles beneath them, signaling that the boy hadn't been sleeping well.

"Who is that, Professor?" Hermione couldn't place him, but he looked familiar. And he was obviously the reason she had been called to the school on her single day off.

"I know you're incredibly busy with your reporting job, congratulations by the way, but I simply don't know what else to do. He's so volatile, and he won't listen to me." McGonagall looked exhausted in that moment, frowning down at the floor, and for once she truly looked her age.

"Who is that boy, Professor?" Hermione placed a hand on McGonagall's arm, growing worried now. The Professor wanted her to take care of some unknown child? What did she know about children?

She pursed her lips and shook her head, but one final look at the boy made her blurt out her answer in one quick rush. "He's Severus Snape!" A hand over her mouth muffled her stressed breathing, and Hermione twisted on her heel to look back at the child.

He did look incredibly like her old Potions Professor. He had the same sallow skin and stringy hair. He was just a slightly chubby little five year old now, however. He was short and tiny and hadn't yet lost all his baby fat, but he also looked too thin for his age and sickly. He did not look like a healthy, happy little boy at all.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked, worry starting to creep into her stomach. Something, other than the obvious change in age and miraculous rise from the dead, just didn't seem right about the child.

"He showed up a few days ago in his old quarters. Filtch found him wandering the halls and brought him to me immediately. He was quite torn up and angry. He remembers everything up to and including his death, and he's not very happy to be back." McGonagall sighed and clasped her hands in front of her. "He had a broken arm and many scars, a black eye, a few bruises. Poppy fixed him up as much as she could but he's incredibly frustrated with his situation."

McGonagall looked up at Hermione hopefully, and she nodded, turning to look over at the child that was just starting to wake at the other end of the hall. She started walking over and stopped a few feet away, waiting for Snape to turn and look at her first.

Snape turned in the bed, rubbing at his eyes with a depressed groan. When his hands fell to his lap, he looked around the room and froze when he saw he was not alone.

"Miss Granger? What, they brought you in to control me?" Snape growled, though it didn't sound as threatening coming out in a squeaky, prepubescent voice.

"Hello, Professor Snape. How are you feeling?" Hermione took a seat next to Snape's bed and waited, while Snape folded his arms across his chest, turning away and refusing to speak with her. Hermione turned to McGonagall and tilted her head, asking for some privacy.

Once the woman had disappeared, Hermione turned back to her former Professor and smiled sadly. "It's good to have you back, sir, even if it is a bit surprising." She leaned forward, trying to catch Snape's eye. It worked after a while, and he sighed heavily, rolling his eyes in her direction.

"What do you want, Miss Granger?" he asked, sounding very put-upon by her presence. He also sounded very tired, though, and extremely sad.

Hermione couldn't help herself; she reached out and took Snape's hand, rubbing her thumb against his soft baby skin comfortingly. "I want you to know that this is going to be alright, sir. It's going to be okay. We'll make sure of that."

For a moment, Hermione was sure she saw Snape look up at her in disbelief and a bit of relief, but then it was gone and he was wrenching his hand away from her.

"I am no child, Miss Granger. I can assure you I don't need your help, or anyone else's, either. I'm perfectly fine on my own." He sniffed irritably, glaring at the other end of the hall.

After a long, silent moment, Hermione stood and smiled, holding out her hand. "How about we go get some lunch? I'm starving." Snape just stared at her hand. Rolling her eyes, Hermione reached out and took Snape's hand. "Come on, I'm sure you'd rather be walking around than stuck in bed all day. We'll sneak out."

"Oh, I'm sure you've got ample practice with sneaking about the school," Snape replied grumpily, following her sullenly. However, when she started sneaking about and running from one pillar to the next, Snape felt his blood truly pumping for the first time since he woke up. He was excited and actually enjoying their little escape from the Hospital Wing.

"Alright, I think we can sneak in there without McGonagall seeing us. Come on!" She tugged Snape after her playfully and helped him sit at one of the tables, where an assortment of food popped into being just for them. As they ate, Hermione kept sneaking more and more food onto Snape's plate, and when he glared up at her, Hermione grinned. "You are far too small. You need to eat more."

Snape rolled his eyes but ate the offered food until they were both full. Deciding to sneak outside for some fresh air, they stood and began heading out of the Great Hall. Sitting together on the grass, Hermione studied her young Professor.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" Snape grumbled, squirming uncomfortably beneath her looks. When he had been a child, any prolonged attention from an adult only spelled trouble for him.

"I'm just surprised. It's hard to wrap my mind around, you know. You were dead yesterday, and now you're here. Have Madam Pomfrey or Professor McGonagall found out what happened, yet?"

Snape sighed as if she had asked a dull question. "This is permanent. If I try to take a potion to return me to my proper age, I will most likely die. It wouldn't work and would only be detrimental to my health. This wasn't caused by a potion, therefore no potion or spell reverse it." With a heavy sigh, he grumbled, "I'm stuck like this."

Hermione felt bad for her Professor, and she reached out tentatively to brush some hair out of his face. When he turned to look at her, confused, she just smiled and tugged him into a hug. She didn't know why she did it herself, but she just felt like it was something she needed to do.

"Has anyone discussed your living arrangements with you yet?" Hermione asked, curious. Snape pulled back then, his face clouding over.

"McGonagall said they would look for someone to take me in. I'm assuming that since she called you this morning, she is trying to coerce you into relieving her of my presence." He seemed uncomfortable as he mumbled, "I have issues, as they would put it, that this body hasn't grown out of yet. They can be. . . problematic."

Hermione rubbed his arm and tugged him slightly closer. "I wouldn't mind," Hermione said quietly. "And you do need a place to stay."

Snape frowned, glaring at the ground, before he mumbled, "You wouldn't want me, I'm sure. These issues, as I said, are quite extensive. I would be more trouble than I'm worth." The child's frown deepened, and Hermione figured he was parroting something he had been told time and time again.

"As I said, Professor, I wouldn't mind. I'm sure we would cope just fine with each other." She tilted her head in thought as she studied the little Potions Master. "Would you be comfortable with that? I work a lot, but I could take a week or two off to help you settle in."

Snape's frown morphed into a dark scowl, and he threw his hands up, exasperated. "It seems you have already decided without a word from me, so it seems I have no choice." His voice was extremely bitter for a child so small.

"That's not what I'm saying, sir, and you know it. I'm simply offering you an option and letting you know that I don't mind if you have issues. We all have issues. I understand. You don't have to come home with me; McGonagall can keep asking around, if you like."

The only warning Hermione had of the impending tears was the slight wobble of Snape's bottom lip before he broke down, slowly at first, but then he progressed to shaking sobs. He covered his face in shame and brought his knees to his chest, trying to take up as little space as possible.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock before she reached out, planning on bringing him in for a much-needed hug. However, seconds before she touched him, he flinched back violently, and she pulled away.

"Professor?" He didn't respond. "Professor." Still nothing. "Severus!" she said sternly, placing her face right beside his. "Severus, calm down. It's going to be okay. There's no need to cry, sweetheart." Tentatively, she reached out again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him in to her chest, where he leaned close and clung tight, refusing to move or let go for some minutes. Rocking seemed to calm him fairly quickly, so Hermione lifted him onto her lap and wrapped him in her arms, continuing to rock until he grew quiet again.

One look down showed an exhausted five year old, a thumb stuck in his mouth unconciously as he stared off into the distance. The dark circles beneath his eyes stood out frighteningly against his too-pale skin. Instead of trying to coerce him into conversation again, Hermione stood and hefted Snape up on her hip, letting him curl into her.

She took him back to the infirmary, tucking him back into his bed amid weak protests that ended in the child snuggling further beneath the blanket and promptly beginning to snore.

She watched him for a long time, mentally bracing herself for this particular task. She could do this, she would do this. If not for her old Potions Professor, than for the exhausted, frightened child that had his memories and needed a home.

Now all she needed to do was convince Snape and McGonagall and Pomfrey that she could do it.