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Chapter Text

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations written by J.K. Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made. The plot of this fiction is all mine, though.

Lost to his thoughts on an early summer’s morning, Severus Snape sat by himself by the lakeside, watching the new day arrive. Everything was peaceful and quiet still. The hazy shapes of morning mist that hung above the lake’s smooth surface, faded slowly into the light of day. Some late owls returned from their night’s hunting, while awakening birds started chirping in the treetops of the nearby forest.

He watched an orange ball of sun coming up to start what promised to become a beautiful, clear, summer’s day. The air was still filled with the slight chill of morning and the fresh clean smell of dew, as the blurry haze of dawn slowly transformed into morning light.

Little did he know that this clear summer’s day was about to affect his entire life in a way he would not ever have conceded possible.

When the bright September sun ascended the clear blue morning sky, and plunged the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts in a warm golden light, he rose from the old, pale grey stone bench, whose thick moss covered granite slab that was partly cracked with a long split. Slowly he started to walk back towards the castle, watching the sunbeams play upon its many pillars and statues.

His footsteps left a dark trace in the still-moist grass, as he crossed the lawn towards the front stairs.

The creaking of the large wooden doors and the echo of his own steps were the only sounds in the quiet halls.

Golden sunlight crept quickly into the vast Entrance Hall’s twilight, when he decided to ascend the marble staircase, to spend the remaining time till breakfast in the library. The castle was quiet, at this early hour of the day. Most students were still asleep and his own footsteps sounded hollow in the deserted corridors. He had barely reached the end of the wide marble stairs and turned to the left, when suddenly he heard the sound of hurriedly approaching footsteps.

There was hardly time to wonder who else might be up at this early hour before something solid hit him right in the stomach and almost knocked him off his feet. Catching his breath, he grabbed the handrail for support and stared with shock into the huge, frightened eyes of Hermione Granger.

She, on the other hand, was not so lucky. The force of their collision caused her to lose her balance and, as her foot caught in the hem of her robe, she fell.

Instinctively he reached out for her - grabbed her robe, to stop her from falling; with a sharp ripping noise, the cloth gave way, and the pile of books she had held pressed to her chest slipped out of her hands as she fell forward.

He watched in horror, as she slipped and bumped down a number of steps – and was suddenly – gone –

Blinking in confusion, he stared at the ripped cloth in his hands, then back at the spot, from where she had – a second ago – just disappeared into thin air.

The echo of heavy books slamming to the floor pounded through the deserted corridors, dust danced in the traces of sunlight that fell through the huge gothic-shaped window at the head of the stairs – but Hermione Granger was nowhere to be seen.

Confused and worried, he glanced around.

He did not understand this.

As he bent down to pick up the books, he stopped in mid-movement. There was – blood – along with some pieces of broken glass and a thin layer of sand on the stairs.

Whatever had happened to the Granger-girl, she was obviously hurt. Possibly badly. He needed to find her.

This was a matter the headmaster needed to know about – immediately.

In a great hurry, he descended the marble stairs, crossed the Entrance Hall and approached the gargoyle, which hid the escalator that led up to the headmaster’s office.

He had to knock three times before Dumbledore responded to his request for admittance. The old wizard peered carefully through the small crack of his barely-open door, his silvery-white hair dishevelled from sleep. “Severus – it’s you?!” he croaked hoarsely. “Did anything happen?” Quickly he stepped aside, to let Severus enter.

Severus noticed the old man was still in his night-clothing. Calmer than he felt, he responded. “Well, I am – not quite sure – Albus,” he hesitated. “It is about the Granger-girl, she –”

“Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked in surprise, while he wrapped a dark-red dressing-gown around himself. “Did you catch her wandering around the school at night-time again, Severus? Are Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley involved… ?”

“No, it is nothing about them – for once –” he sneered. “It is just Miss Granger – she, well – I think, she just – disapparated – somehow.”

“Disapparated, Severus?” Dumbledore frowned, leading him over to his desk. “That’s not possible on Hogwarts’ grounds, you know that?!”

Severus just nodded gravely at that. “I know, Albus, but –”

“Take a seat, will you?”

He did.

“Yes it is odd – you see –I – I was on my way up towards the library, when she suddenly – ran into me. I tried to keep her from falling, but it was of no use.”

He held up the piece of cloth for Dumbledore to see. “The cloth gave way. All I could get a grip on, is this bit of her robes, whereas Miss Granger fell down the staircase and – disappeared.”

“Indeed?” the other man asked, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Severus assured him tensely. Annoying as the Granger-girl might be, he did not really dislike her and he certainly did not wish any harm to come to her. “Yes, Albus. And I fear, she did hurt herself after all; I did discover some blood on the stairs and – something else …”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise at him, as he continued.

“I discovered some broken glass, too. And something like – sand – Do you have any idea what all of this may mean?” he inquired urgently.

“Ahh – yes,” Dumbledore sighed gravely, “I believe, I might, Severus –”

But what he had to tell him about the matter did not serve to ease his worries in the slightest.

“Well, you see, Severus – Miss Granger, as you know, is a very special student. She has always been far ahead of her class and – as she did once again sign up for more subjects than required, and has also been made Head Girl this year, she has been in desperate need of time.”

Severus regarded the headmaster with confusion. He had no idea what all this was leading to.

“So the Ministry gave her permission, to use a Time-Turner again,” Dumbledore explained.

At that Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Again, Albus?”

“Er, well yes, a Timer-Turner, Severus. Like the one she had back in her 3rd year.”

Severus frowned slightly at that. “She did have a Time-Turner back then?!” he asked in alarm. He became even more suspicious seeing Dumbledore’s eagerness to drop that matter. “Yes, yes, Severus, she did. But that’s hardly of importance, right now, is it?”

“No, I suppose you are right about that. Our first concern should be – where – the poor girl is, at the moment,” Severus agreed, but to his utmost surprise, Dumbledore shook his head.

“No, Severus, I think that’s not quite correct. For as we know, a Time-Turner transports its owner in time, not space.” 

Severus just stared at him and Dumbledore added. “Whatever happened to her, she’ll most likely be at Hogwarts. So we needn't worry about where she’ll be – but when, Severus.”

OO

Hermione felt her head hitting the hard stone floor as she came to a halt at the foot of the stairs.

She sat up, feeling quite dizzy from the crash. She must have turned over several times during her fall. There was a sharp pain in her right palm and her knees hurt, too. She remembered, she had been on her way downstairs, when she had suddenly collided with something – someone – Snape –

She gasped and cast a frightened look upwards, expecting a spiteful comment any second, but there was – no one – at all. Looking around in confusion, she climbed to her feet. “Professor- Snape?” But - there was no sign of him.

‘Typical,’ she thought bitterly, ‘that horrid git just knocks me over - I nearly happen to break my neck and – he - just disappears, without even checking on me – honestly!’

Something was terribly wrong. There was an icy chill in the air, instead of the previous warmth of a mild summer’s morning; and the warm golden sunlight was absent. The halls were almost dark. Somehow it seemed to be midwinter.

Shivering, Hermione pulled her ripped robe tightly around herself. But when she started to search for her books, she could not find any. ‘I must have lost them, when I fell. Did Snape pick them up and take them with him?’ she wondered.

But when she finally discovered the wreckage of her broken Time-Turner her worries over that matter immediately evaporated.

She decided to head straight for McGonagall’s office, where she was to find quite a surprise.

OO

“Yes, what is it?” A rather drowsy Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway. With a feeling of uneasiness, Hermione noticed, she wore a tartan dressing-gown and a night-cap.

“I’m sorry to intrude on you at this early hour, Professor, but I – I just collided with Professor Snape and …”

“Snape?”

“Yes, I was on my way back from the library and just about to walk down the stairs into the Entrance Hall, when suddenly Professor Snape …”

“Don’t talk nonsense! There’s no Professor Snape here,” Professor McGonagall interrupted her sharply.

“What – what are you talking about?” Hermione stammered.

“I’m telling you, there isn’t any Professor Snape at this school,” the Professor sniffed. “Who are you, anyway?”

A/N: A nod and a thank you to *Miss Park Avenue*, who was the first person, I believe, to post a Potterverse Time-Turner story. Before reading her clever fic, I could not think of a plausible way to get my Hermione’s Time-Turner to malfunction. It is to MPA and her story *Lost in the Marauders’ Time* that I (and so many other HG/SS shippers) owe the brilliant idea of falling down the stairs!

Also lots of thanks to SilentG, for proof reading this chapter.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

For a second, Hermione just stared at her Professor in disbelief. “I – I’m Hermione Granger,” she muttered. “But why, Professor McGonagall –” her voice trailed off, as a horrified realisation struck her.

When McGonagall shook her head in clear annoyance, some strands of hair fell from under the sleeping-cap and they where definitely – black – without the slightest trace of silver.

“Oh my g –” Hermione gasped.

“Listen, my dear Miss ‘who-so-ever`, I do not know what you want, or why you know my name, but – I’m absolutely sure, I’ve never seen you before!” McGonagall glared at her.

“I’m Hermione Granger, as I said, Professor,” she whispered desperately, “and – and I’m sorry about all of this. Would … would you please tell me the current date?” she added in a tiny voice.

“It’s the 2nd of December, Miss – Granger, was it?”

“Oh, so it’s winter then!” Hermione concluded, thunderstruck.

McGonagall gave her an odd look at this statement. “Of course it’s winter, Miss Granger, what did you expect?”

“Ewr –oh-w, I –I don’t know – So it’s not the 15th of September, then?” Hermione babbled.

“No, certainly not!” Professor McGonagall assured her sternly.

When Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes and her head started to spin with panic, the Professor’s gaze softened a bit. “Why don’t you come in and tell me what happened?” she smiled encouraging at her. “Just start from the beginning, will you? Then we’ll decide what to do next.”

Hermione nodded with relief and followed the Professor into her room. She immediately turned towards the well-known chair in front of the desk, but McGonagall led her over to a window seat, from where she had a beautiful view over the snow-covered grounds and the vast, frozen lake. “Would you care for a cup of tea, Miss Granger?”

“Oh yes, please.” Hermione responded gratefully.

“Take a seat then. And press this to the wound on your hand.”

McGonagall handed a handkerchief to her. “You can have it fixed by Madam Pomfrey – that’s our witch in the medical ward – later on. But first you should tell me what happened to you. And take this cloak, dear, you are shivering from cold in your summer clothing. I’ll be right back.”

Hermione did as advised and wrapped the thick cloak around her shoulders. It was made of plain black wool, and had no house crest on its front side. In terrified confusion, she watched the pale winter sun ascend in a grey-clouded sky.

A few minutes later McGonagall re-entered the room with two cups of hot, Darjeeling Tea. She was still in her dressing-gown, but she had fixed her hair into the usual bun; Hermione noticed that it was in fact pitch-black.

Despite her growing apprehension and fears about her predicament, sipping the tea was definitely helping to calm her nerves.  

“So, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall asked seriously. “I take it you – are – a Hogwarts student, in – some way?” Her eyes settled on the Gryffindor-crest on the ripped robes in her hands and a slight smile appeared at her stern features.

“Yes,” Hermione nodded. “Yes, I am, but – Not in the current time, I suppose?”

“That’s correct, Miss Granger?” McGonagall replied. “I would know you otherwise – especially,” another slight smile, “especially as you seem to be, one of – my – a Gryffindor student?”

Hermione nodded again.

“So the question is, ‘When’ – do you come from, Miss Granger? And – how – did you happen to get here?”

After Hermione had retold the previous happenings, it did not take the both of them long to figure out what had happened.

“So, you have travelled this far into the past, because you collided with Mr. – excuse me ‘Professor’ – Snape, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Insufferable boy!“ McGonagall muttered, much to Hermione’s surprise. “So he’ll continue bringing trouble to everyone.”

“Excuse me, Professor?”

“Oh,” McGonagall seemed quite uncomfortable about her own statement. “Never mind, Miss Granger – I shouldn’t criticise a future colleague, I suppose, but the idea that ‘Mr. Snape’ –” she shook her head in disbelief. “Well, as I said, never mind. You should know, he is your age in this time.”

“But – this is twenty years earlier than my own time!” Hermione gasped with surprise, as the Professor informed her of the current date.

“I’m sorry, dear. The idea that it was I who gave you that Time-Turner – And it’s shattered, you said?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so.” Hermione held up the broken bits of glass that were still connected to the chain.

“Oh-dear,” McGonagall sighed and the worried expression on her face was not helping to make Hermione feel any better. “I’m sorry, Miss Granger, the headmaster needs to be informed of this – immediately!”

OO

“First of all, I need to ask you not to talk to anyone about future incidents, Miss – Granger,” a quite younger version of Dumbledore told her seriously. “And I must also ask you to use a different name.”

He held up his hands, at her protest. “We’ll discuss things later. Right now, it’s best to take care of your injuries, first.”

“But Professor Dumbledore, sir,” Hermione began, desperately wringing her hands, “there’s so much I need to tell you ...”

Again, he stopped her protest. “Please, Miss Granger – If the Ministry gave you permission to use that Time-Turner, as you said, you certainly know that it’s of utmost importance not to interfere with anything in a different time. You couldn’t possibly imagine the consequences of your actions otherwise.”

“But Professor – you don’t understand. You need to know about – Voldemort, he –”

A sharp gasping noise from McGonagall and the furious expression on Dumbledore’s face, made her flinch. “Miss Granger! I must insist on this. If it’s too hard for you to keep future events to yourself you may talk to me – but just me – about them, in private, later on. But it is unacceptable for you to blurt out details about the future like that!”

Hermione nodded awkwardly at that. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Don’t be sorry, Miss Granger.” He smiled mildly at her. “I’m well aware of how difficult the current situation must be for you. Given the circumstances, it is probably best for you to join Gryffindor House once again. In this way Professor McGonagall can be of help to you, as your Head of House and no one except the three of us, needs to know about this matter.”

“But Albus,” Professor McGonagall asked in confusion, “does this mean you do not know of a way to return her to her own time either?”

A/N: Thanks for reading this.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Hermione noticed that the headmaster purposely avoided her eyes at his respond, “Not right now, I’m afraid.”

He turned towards his colleague. “Please see Miss Granger to the infirmary now, will you? As she’s about to participate in 7th year classes, she needs a timetable, too. I’ll organise a trunk and books for her, in the meantime.”

With that, he turned back towards Hermione. “Don’t you worry, Miss Granger. I do hope your stay here will be only temporary, but for now we had better make things as comfortable as possible for you.”

On the familiar way towards the hospital wing with McGonagall, Hermione felt quite uncomfortable about the odd, awkward silence and periodic side glances between them. “Professor, what did the headmaster mean by ‘not being sure, my stay here would be just temporary?’ You are able to get send me back, aren’t you?” she asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” The Professor told her uneasily. “The problem is that you need to travel back by your original Time-Turner. And as some splinters and sand obviously remain in the future – Well, we’ll see.”

With that, she shoved her into the infirmary. “Poppy, this is a new student. Would you please take a look at her? There has been an accident during her er –  journey.”

“Oh, of course, Minerva.” A younger version of the strict magical nurse, approached them hurriedly. “Are you feeling up to telling me your name, dear?”

At the sight of Madam Pomfrey, and the all too familiar situation of ending up at the hospital wing after an adventure, Hermione nearly blurted out her real name, but remembered just in time to protect herself and finally rearranged the stammered syllables into:

‘Géraldine Henshler’.

OO

About 20 years in the future, her friends began to worry about her when she did not appear at the breakfast table.

“I wonder where Hermione is hiding?” Ron frowned, brushing a strand of his fiery red hair out of his freckled face.

“Probably at the library again,” Harry shrugged.

“But she hasn’t even had breakfast yet, Harry. I know she is strange, she has always been funny about all that studying stuff and such, but this year it’s worse than ever.”

“Well, what did you expect? She’s Head Girl now, after all,” Harry grinned.

“Well, Head Girl or not, she’d better hurry. We have Potions first thing today. She’ll be in major trouble, if she’s late for that. Snape won’t miss the chance to pick on Gryffindor.”

Harry shuddered when he thought of the creepy place where their even creepier Potions master held his lessons. “She’ll head straight down there, I suppose. Come on, let’s go. She’ll catch up with us.”

“Yeah, OK.” Ron agreed lamely.

OO

When Severus Snape entered the Potions classroom that day, his eyes immediately fell onto a bushy-haired girl he had never seen before. She was sitting in the back of the room, her books pressed to her chest, looking pale and somehow out of place. She did look nice enough, though. He noticed that her bushy hair had the light brown colour of chocolate with just the slightest glimpse of copper within, and her face was pretty.

He also noticed the others were checking her out as well. She had to feel quite uncomfortable about this, but while he still wondered whether to walk over and introduce himself to her or not, a door at the side of the classroom slammed open and their Potions Mistress stepped into the room. The lesson was about to begin.

Severus might certainly have been interested to know that about two decades later, it would be he who would sweep through that door, in an equally foul mood. Infuriated in that time by the thought of having to deal with an explanation about the – absence – of that very same girl.

For the moment, he banned every further thought about her from his mind and turned his eyes to the front of the classroom, instead.

Professor Figg was a very strict Potions Mistress, and he knew better than to not pay attention in her lessons. She approached the podium at the front of the classroom, settled behind her desk and turned her eyes to the students. Everyone fell silent at her penetrating stare.

“I have been informed by the headmaster that there is a new addition to our class.”

Her beady eyes settled on the girl, who shifted uneasily in her chair. “I do not know for what – personal reasons – you had to leave your old school, in the middle of term, Miss –” she glanced at a piece of parchment in her hand, then turned her eyes back on the girl, “Henshler –” she sneered, “but you had better be sure that I will not make any allowances for you because of this. I expect you to catch up on things on your own. If you cannot find any help from one of your house mates, you will need to look things up in a book. And I do hope your English is good enough to attend this school, as it is certainly none of my responsibility to repeat every second sentence for you if it is not. Do I make things clear, Miss Henshler?”

For some reason, Severus felt kind of sorry for the girl. She looked so lost and scared, and now the old Figg had been all nasty to her.

He still wondered what all this was about. So she had attended another wizarding school then. For all he knew there was no other school in England than Hogwarts. She had to be from some foreign country. It would fit that remark about language problems, too.

But for all he had understood so far, she could not be a Slytherin student, as Professor Figg, who was their Head of House, had been so mean to her. She had also told her to look for help in ‘her’ house. This could only mean that she had to be in Gryffindor; which was a pity.  He would have certainly liked the thought of helping her catch up on stuff, otherwise. That thought had crossed his mind quite unintentionally. Now it would probably be Black or Lupin, or – Potter! Or perhaps Lily, for it was no question these goody-goody-Gryffindors would help a new house member to settle. He noticed that several heads were turned towards the Henshler-girl, the Gryffindors looking curious, but quite friendly, while the Slytherins shot evil glances at her.

“Yes, Professor,” the new girl responded calmly.

“Well, then,” Figg snapped. “Enough of that. Books out everyone!” She shot an unwilling look at the new girl again. “Where is your Potions equipment, Miss Henshler?”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” the girl stammered and a slightly pink colour crept into her pale cheeks. “I don’t have my cauldron yet, .. my trunk ..”

She was cut short by the Professor’s sharp remark. “Five points from Gryffindor! And don’t you dare to come unprepared like that to a second lesson!”

“But – Professor –” the girl gasped with shock. “It’s not my fault, I –”

“That’s enough. I am not interested to hear any of your tales. You’ll come prepared the next time, or I will ban you from my class.”

Severus watched uneasily, how the girl looked to the floor at that. “Yes, Professor,” she muttered with tears welling up in her eyes. It must be hard, to lose house points before even speaking to a single fellow student, Severus supposed.

“Sit over there with Mr. Longbottom,” Figg told her.

The Slytherins sniggered even more at that, as Frank Longbottom was known for his horrible clumsiness at Potions. This promised to become an amusing kind of lesson. But somehow, Severus did not like the thought of that.

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who is reading or commenting this story or left a kudo so far. Feedback is so very important. Thank you heaps and lots, honestly!

Smiles happily, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Hermione bit her lip and shuffled over towards the advised seat. The brown-haired boy gave her a timid smile, and she was surprised how much he resembled her friend Neville.

“Hi!” he whispered, when she slipped into the seat next to him. “I’m Frank Longbottom. Don’t mind too much what the old hag said to you. She’s like that all the time.”

“Hi!” Hermione smiled back. “I’m Géraldine Henshler. Thank you.”

“Are you good at Potions?” he asked hopefully.

“Oh, I –”  she blushed a little, “I’m not too bad, I suppose…”

“That’s more than I can say about myself,” Frank sighed mournfully. “I always blow my potions up or spoil them one way or another. The others aren’t too fond of working with me because of that. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me for this lesson.”

Hermione smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Frank. I’m sure we’ll manage.”

He shot an uncertain glance at her. “That would be gravy.”

“Today we’ll brew the most powerful Sleeping Potion we know of,” Professor Figg declared. “Who can tell me, by what other name that potion is called? Yes, Mr. Snape?” she said and Hermione nearly dropped out of her seat.

She had not looked at any of the other students so far and the knowledge came as kind of a shock to her. Across the room sat the teenage version of the greasy-haired man who had caused all this trouble in the first place.

“It’s also called the ‘Draught of Living Death’,” he declared in a voice that sounded strangely younger, but all too familiar to her as well.

“Yes, that is correct, Mr. Snape,” Professor Figg smiled at him. “Please write the ingredients and instructions to the board, will you!”

Still in shock, Hermione watched, as Snape rose from his seat and headed towards the blackboard. Frank, who’d followed her gaze, sighed in frustration. “Snape,” he declared mournfully, “an insufferable git, you’ll see. He’s Slytherin, of course. Bloody good at Potions, but –”

At this his explanations were interrupted by the sharp remark of Professor Figg, who glared at them dangerously. “I didn’t pair the two of you up with each other to have my lesson disturbed by chattering. Five further points from Gryffindor – each.”

The Gryffindors groaned at that and Hermione drew in a sharp breath.

“Mr. Longbottom, you will assist me in testing the potion later on and Miss Henshler –” Figg glared at her, “if you have finished gaping at Mr. Snape, do you think you could manage to tell us which ingredients are required?” she mocked.

Hermione blushed a terrible shade of crimson at that statement. There was a lot of sniggering from the Slytherin side, whereas she got some very odd looks from the other Gryffindors.

Snape turned towards her, his eyebrows arched in surprise. Though his lips curled into his trademark sneer, Hermione was surprised at what she saw.

He was tall and lean, like his future self – almost slim, but his skin was not sallow, though still very pale. He wore black, as usual, but in this time, there was the Slytherin house-crest at the front of his robes. His hair was cut a little shorter and was not as greasy as it would be her days. It barely reached to his shoulders. He did look a great deal better than he would in the future. His beetle-black eyes seemed to seek her out. They fixed her gaze with an intense stare that made her head feel all funny. She noticed, there was far less bitterness in his eyes now.

“Miss Henshler?” the Professor requested and Hermione snapped out of her inspection. “Oh—erw – er- yes, yes ..” she stammered, burning with embarrassment.

The Slytherins were howling with laughter, by now. With the exception of Snape, who watched her out of narrowed eyes, as if wondering what to make of her strange behaviour.

“Mr. Snape – go to the board, please,” Figg ordered and with a last odd look in Hermione’s direction, Snape turned away.

“Well, Miss Henshler?”

Hermione started to name all the ingredients she could remember to be used on the potion. But it was certainly of no help to her that she heard her own-time-Snape’s voice echoing in her mind the whole time. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death.”

The Snape at the blackboard listed the ingredients as she recited them to him. And as he stood with his back turned towards her, writing instructions to the board in his familiar flourishes, it was not too difficult to imagine everything was all right again.

OO

Against everyone’s expectations, the potion in Mr. Longbottom’s cauldron actually turned out to the right colour, for once. When Professor Figg approached their desk, at the end of the lesson, she raised her brows in surprise at the sight of the softly simmering pale blue liquid. Perhaps this new Gryffindor-girl was not a ninny, after all.

“That seems to be in order,” she remarked shortly. “As the lesson is now almost over, we won’t be testing the potion, Mr. Longbottom.”

At that Frank’s face lit up with relief.

The Professor turned back to the class again. “I expect you to write an essay about this potion and its possible side effects as today’s homework. But make sure, it is no shorter than at least one roll of parchment. Clean up now – everyone.”

“Thank you, Géraldine. Thank you so much for your help,” Frank muttered gratefully, as they collected their equipment.

“Oh never mind, Nev-erw- Frank,” Hermione smiled at him. “I guess, we worked well with each other.”

They started to clean up their desk. Frank took the remaining ingredients and bottles back to the closet, while Hermione collected the used beakers and vials and walked over towards the water basin.

While cleaning she stood with her back to the classroom and therefore could not see anyone, when another, quite familiar voice drawled. “Well, I wonder, for what personal-reasons the little slut had to leave her old school.”

She did not dare to look up towards the Slytherin side, but listened.

“What makes you so sure about her being a slut?” this was Snape’s voice. She noticed, there was a trace of anger in it.

“Honestly, Severus,” the first boy sneered, “for being one of the top students, you can be quite an oaf, sometimes. Didn’t you see how she stared at you earlier?”

“So what?!” Snape shot back at the other boy.

Hermione had to swallow at that comment. Damn, it all, if only she had gotten a grip on herself, earlier. She did not even dare to think about what her strange behaviour might have looked like. To stare at Snape like that. Losing ten house points at her very first lesson. ‘Brilliant move, Hermione,’ she said to herself in frustration. ‘Really bloody brilliant.’

As they left the potions classroom, a pretty red-haired girl approached her; she was accompanied by Frank and a few other boys. “Hi! Géraldine, wasn’t it?” she asked and smiled at her. “I’m Lily.”

A/N: Thank you for following this story.

I suppose, everyone recognised the sentence that I said to be echoing in Hermione’s mind, as one of the first book. (Chapter 8 / Page 103 / ll.10 to 12)

Smiles, Serpentina 

Chapter Text

It took Hermione a few seconds to recover from shock. “Lily?” she gasped. “Lily P-p--pp-pleased to meet you!”

Lily smiled at her sweetly. She was a very pretty girl with flaming, dark-red hair. Hermione noticed her eyes had just the same bright-green colour as Harry’s.

“So you’ve been sorted into Gryffindor,” she asked, “haven’t you?”

Hermione just nodded. She still stared at the girl in front of her – utterly speechless. But her eyes grew even wider, when she looked at the boys next to her. Lily, who had followed her glances, started to introduce her friends to her. “You already know Frank.” She pointed at the Neville-look-alike-boy, who grinned at her.

“Yeah, that was the best Potions lesson ever, Géraldine, honestly,” Frank smiled. “Without your help, I would be probably scrubbing the floor right now.”

“Don’t forget to mention the ceiling!” a short, round-faced boy next to him squeaked.

“Better not tease him like that, Pete–” Lily giggled, “or he’ll hex you again at the next Duelling Club! That’s Peter Pettigrew,” she declared. “At our last Duelling Club’s meeting, the poor guy was paired up with our dear Potions catastrophe here. Apart from old Figg’s classroom, Frank isn’t half as clumsy,” Lily exclaimed, “and he has terrible quick reflexes at duelling, it’s almost creepy. Don’t even dream of hexing him. It’s no fun at all.”

“Don’t talk such rubbish, Lil,” Frank muttered awkwardly, his face and even his ears, flushing red at such praise.

“Hmmh –” Lily remarked thoughtfully, “you just want to make us feel safe.”

She smiled again and looked at a handsome boy with light-brown hair and hazel eyes. “This is Remus Lupin, he’s our DADA specialist, next to Frank, of course. He’s also the good-tempered one, who calms everyone down, when things get a little out of hand sometimes.”

Remus smiled a little timidly at Hermione. “Hi, Géraldine, nice to meet you.”

“H-hi,” Hermione muttered, her eyes wide with shock. This teenage-Lupin looked rather good. This was all just so – odd.

But Lily already continued, “This one here,” she tipped her index finger three times against the boy’s chest, “is James Potter. He’s playing Chaser, for Gryffindor.”

‘I could have guessed so,’ Hermione thought faintly. That – was Harry! He resembled her friend in every detail, from the untidy black hair that stood up on the back of his head, to his round glasses. Just his eyes were of a warm, deep brown instead.

“He’s flying even faster than the Snitch, so he’s in possession of the Quaffle nearly all the time. He scores more often than any other Chaser,” Lily declared proudly. “We’ve won the Quidditch Cup four times in a row, since he’s been on the team! And… ”

Hermione noticed that Remus and Peter batted their eyelashes at each other from behind them, and from Frank came a strange noise that sounded very much like snorting. Lily blushed slightly and simply added. “And he’s also Head Boy.”

That left only a single boy to be introduced. The black-haired, dark looking one, who glared at Hermione from beneath creased brows.

“And this –” Lily smiled, nudging him forward, “is Sirius Black.”

Hermione noticed, she poked him in the ribs and hissed through gritted teeth, “Don’t be such an ass Sirius. Smiling doesn’t hurt, try it!”

“Oh-w erw, hi, Géraldine,” he frowned.

Lily let go of him and smiled at Hermione. “Well, that’s our lot. You see, I’m the only Gryffindor-girl, our age. And I’m more than happy to finally get some company.”

“So we’re the only girls in this year?” Hermione asked taken aback.

“Oh no,” Lily laughed, “there are some more girls in the other houses. Most of them are in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but there are even a few who are Slytherins – just I’m stuck as the only one in my house.”

“So every other Gryffindor girl is younger than we are?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“Yes. Do you think I would spend my time hanging around with these lot, otherwise?” Lily mocked.

The boys smiled sarcastically at her, for that remark. “Ohw, that really hurts Lil,” the Harry-look-alike boy behind her flinched with mock pain. “You need to know, Géraldine,” he grinned, “that our dear Lily here, is a Mistress of Charms-work – It’s touching, how she always has a kind word for everyone. And she’s also Head Girl,” he added seriously. Even his voice sounded like Harry’s.

“Gee –“ Lily turned up her nose at him.

“Speaking of Charms,” Remus interrupted their well meant squabbling, “we had better hurry off to Flitwick’s class now.”

At that, everyone surged into movement. “Iii-yes, I nearly forgot about that!” Lily gasped.

“That was quite obvious,” Remus grinned.

They headed straight for Charms, but by the time they arrived, the Ravenclaws were already there and Professor Flitwick was about to begin the lesson. “Sorry we’re late Professor,” Lily started, but he just waved a hand at them.

“Ahh, never mind, Miss Evans. Never mind! I’ve been informed there’s a new member to our class.” He smiled at them. “Come in now, come in everyone, let’s start with the wonderful art of Charms-work!”

His behaviour towards Hermione was quite the different from Figg’s. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Henshler” he smiled. “I hope your time here will be a pleasant one. Don’t be shy to ask, if you should need any help.”

The lesson went by quite smoothly and Hermione started to feel a little better.

OO

When it was finally time for History of Magic, which they would have with Slytherin again, she got very nervous all of a sudden and wished she had her bag to rummage through. But there was none and so she saw no other possibility, than to hide her face behind a book of Lily’s.

“Géraldine,” Lily asked softly, “are you quite all right?”

“Yes, yes,“ Hermione replied in a hurry “I’m fine, Lily! I’m just looking something up! What makes you ask?”

“Well, you’re holding that book upside down, Géraldine, nothing else,” Lily remarked dryly.

“O-oh,” Hermione blushed. She put the book down and just that moment, Snape entered the classroom. For a second they simply stared at each other. Then he looked away and hurried towards a seat at the back of the room.

Professor Binns messed up everyone’s names, as usual, when he checked on their presence. “Jeremy Portsmouth?” The Slytherins sniggered, as James raised his hand.

“Simon Blanche?” Another fit of laughter and a dark scowl from Sirius.

“Lucky Mallory?”

“Here.” A pale silvery-blond boy raised his hand in a lazy movement. Hermione flinched at the sound of his voice. It was the same one, who’d made that nasty comment about her behaviour during the Potions lesson. “And it’s Malfoy, Professor, if you don’t mind –” he drawled in a bored voice.

“Yes, yes, Mr. Mallory, please don’t hold up the lesson by bringing up such unimportant matters, will you?” This time it was the Gryffindors’ turn to laugh.

“Steve Snake?”

“Here.” Snape sneered with a sour expression, and Hermione tried her best not to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Lilith Elfin?” Binns asked and Lily called in her sweetest voice. “Over here, Professor!”

The translucent, bluish-white face of the ghostly Professor lit up at this. He looked in their direction. “Ahh,” he smiled “and there’s the new girl – Hermione Granger!”

Hermione almost dropped dead on the spot from shock, but no one except herself, seemed to care.

After that everyone fell into lethargy, as Professor Binns droned on with his report about the 15th century’s Goblin rebellions. Just Hermione shifted uneasily in her seat, with the funnily tickling feeling of someone staring at her back all the time, and when she finally risked a glance over her shoulder, she looked straight into the dark, intense eyes of Severus Snape.

OO

At the present-day Hogwarts, the Potions Master had to deal with an utterly annoyed Harry Potter and a rather infuriated Ron Weasley, after the lesson.

“What do you mean by, ‘she’s missing’, Professor?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“How can she be missing, all of a sudden?” Ron glared.

OO

Hermione’s fears that the other Gryffindors might be dismissive towards her, because of what happened during the Potions lesson, did not come true. Lily seemed to be overjoyed to have found a female friend. Frank was very kind to her. Peter was nice enough. James did not have much of an eye for anyone, except Lily, and Remus was his usual good-tempered self.

Just Sirius seemed to be very annoyed by her interest in ‘Snape that greasy-git’, as he called him every chance he got.

During the lunch break, the boys launched into a discussion about the upcoming Quidditch-match against Ravenclaw that would be held the following week. That left Lily and Hermione to converse with each other. “Mmm well, Géraldine, if you don’t mind me asking – Where do you come from? And why have you changed school in the middle of term?”

“Oh, erw, Beauxbatons,” Hermione muttered, uneasily.

“I guessed so,” Lily smiled.

“Why?”

“Because of your first name.”

“Oh – that’s why,” Hermione muttered relieved. “And Lily..”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t make me talk about why I changed schools. It’s for very personal reasons.”

“Oh, of course not, Géraldine,” Lily muttered hastily, “you don’t have to tell me anything. But you can talk to me, if you feel like it. I’ll listen.”

At that Hermione smiled at her. 

OO

In the evening they were chatting on, in the common room. Sirius and Remus were playing chess, Peter was copying Remus’ Transfiguration essay, and Frank was engaged in some homework on his own.

“Where’s James?” Hermione asked in surprise, as she could not spot him anywhere.

“Oh,” Lily blushed slightly. “He’s still on the Quidditch field, I guess.”

“And it’s only thanks to you, she isn’t freezing herself to death outside there, tonight,” Remus interjected with a grin. Hermione noticed the colour in Lily’s cheeks crept up to her hairline at that. 

OO

Later in their dormitory, Lily swooned on about James’ Quidditch-talent.

“Are you dating him?” Hermione asked carefully.

The other girl blushed, “No,” and then grinned, “but I wouldn’t complain about it!”

“Neither would he, I suppose,” Hermione remarked, grinning back at her. Lily got all excited over this. “Do you think so? Really?!” she beamed happily.

“Mmmm-yes, I think he likes you.”

“Ohh,” Lily smiled. “How about you, Géraldine? Did you have a boyfriend back at your old school?”

“No.”

Hermione felt truly miserable all of a sudden. Having to sleep in the very same bed she normally would, just made it all the worse. She wondered, what her friends might be doing right now. If there were worried about her whereabouts and well-being. She could just imagine, Harry and Ron searching for her. She wondered if Dumbledore might have told them what had happened to her. If he even knew of it himself, that was. If Snape had informed him of her accident – Snape— It was all just because of him. All these troubles and worries and having to deal with him as a teenage boy, on top of it all, was just too much.

When she started crying, Lily climbed into her bed, to comfort her. She settled herself down at the foot of the bed in a cross-legged position. “What are you crying for, Géraldine?” she asked softly.

“I feel so lost,” Hermione wailed.

“Oh I see,” Lily murmured. “You're probably missing your friends, aren’t you?”

Hermione nodded at this. “Yes, all the time. Oh Lily, I miss them so much …”

“Tell me about them.”

A/N: Lots of thanks for all the feedback! So happy you like it!

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Hermione hesitated. It would not be wise to tell Lily about the future, would it? She could not do this. She had promised Dumbledore. But it was just so hard. To know what all their happiness and dreams would end in. Knowing she had the chance, to change it all…

“Well, first there is Ron,” she began reluctantly. “That’s short for Ronald. He’s a red-head, like you. But he has a lot of freckles. He’s quite lean and lanky and has rather big hands and feet. He has some temper and gets easily annoyed, but he’s a dear friend. You can count on him, when it comes down to it. He is afraid of spiders though.”

Lily smiled. “That sounds quite nice to me.”

Hermione blew her nose into a handkerchief Lily had given to her. “Yes, it is. My other best friend is Harry,” she continued, carefully weighing her every word. “He’s not as tall as Ron. He’s almost a little skinny, but rather good-looking. His hair is jet-black and he has green eyes.”

“Harry?” Lily asked. “Is that short form for Harold, or something?”

“No,” Hermione answered hesitatingly, “it’s just Harry.”

“That’s a nice name,” Lily remarked thoughtfully. “I like it, somehow.”

Hermione smiled at that. “I’d have guessed so.”

“Why?” Lily asked in surprise.

Hermione just shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought, you might.”

“Black hair and green eyes, huh?” Lily repeated in a dreamy kind of voice. “That’s so sweet –”

“Mmm,” Hermione scratched her ear, uneasily. Talking about Harry seemed to have been not a good idea.

“What is he like?” Lily interrupted her thoughts.

“Who?”

“Your Harry?”

“Oh-erw, he’s a great wizard and – he’s playing Seeker and he…”

“Really?!” Lily asked excitedly. “That sounds a lot like James, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, a little,” Hermione agreed, with uneasiness. She wondered if she might have given away too much by her description.

“I just wonder,” Lily told her thoughtfully, “why your friends at Beauxbatons have English first names.”

“Oh-erw, I guess that’s just a funny fluke.”

“Mmm – If you say so,” Lily shrugged, not sounding convinced at all.

OO

When Lily finally returned to her own bed, Hermione felt much better than before. It had been good to talk about her friends.

As she closed her eyes, Lily muttered through the darkness: “Just wait till our next Hogsmeade weekend, Géraldine. It’s the only wizarding town in England and it’s just fabulous. You’ll like it. Oh, we’ll have so much fun …”

With a slight smile at her lips, Hermione drifted into sleep.

OO

Slivery moonlight filled the deserted corridors of Hogwarts. It was long past midnight. Severus Snape wandered around the school, hoping to catch some students out of bed. In as dark a mood as he was, he would have loved to give someone detention.

He could not sleep. He had tried to do so, earlier, but it had not been restful at all. He had been lost in nightmares, about terrible dangers that the Granger-girl might have to face in that different time. And he’d had an odd dream, in which she had appeared in the time of his own schooldays, where he had spotted her at the Potions classroom.

He had actually dreamed of her, listing ingredients up to him. Her bossy voice sounding strangely reluctant and scared. In that dream he had written ingredients to the board. And he had spotted her eyes.

He had never noticed, they were of cinnamon colour, before. Maybe they were not. This was all just so odd. He appeared to be more affected by that accident, than he had revealed to anyone. Not physically – but – well, he hated to admit towards himself even, but it was just that.

–Emotionally –

He was actually worried about that annoying Granger-girl. He could nott quite believe it himself, but he was. He’d had a conversation with Dumbledore, earlier that evening, and the old man had told him there was still no hint at her whereabouts.

“I’m sorry to say this, but I can’t think of any way to get her back as long as we don’t know, ‘when’ she is,” the headmaster had said. “Her parents need to be informed. I just dread telling them. It will undoubtedly be hard for them to accept this situation, as they are muggles – and therefore not at all used to the concept of time-travelling. They will most certainly have difficulties trying to understand what happened to their daughter. She’s their only child, Severus. I really dread this conversation, but there’s no avoiding it,” the old wizard had sighed deeply.

“Couldn’t we send someone to search for her?” Severus had asked tensely, but Dumbledore had shaken his head at that.

“No, Severus, that’s not an option. The Ministry would never give permission to such a thing – and even if they did, she could be anywhere – in the future – or in the past. Where should we send someone to seek her? And most of all, who would dare to take a risk, like that?”

“I would,” Severus had replied shortly.

“You, Severus?” Dumbledore had asked with surprise. “And why is that? She isn’t a student of your house. You don’t even like her? Why should you put yourself into such danger, to find her?”

“I do not know, Albus,” he had answered, mournfully. “I .. well, .. let’s just say, I consider myself responsible for what has happened.”

“My dear friend,” Dumbledore had told him softly, a worried expression at his face. “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for what was, after all, an accident.”

But somehow it did not change his feelings about the matter. He did feel guilty. At his conversation with Potter and the Weasley-boy he had endured their annoying behaviour, because he felt bad about the situation. That was the only reason he had let them get away without detention.

Quite unintentionally he headed for the place where it had all started. He stopped at the foot of the stairs. Now, pale moonlight shone through the huge gothic-shaped window instead of sunbeams. Everything around was dark and quiet. He set one foot at the lowest step – then a second one – Hesitatingly, he approached the place, from where the Granger-girl had disappeared into thin air.

A pitiful mewing sound made him stop in mid-movement. A large ginger fur-ball appeared at the upper end of the stairs. This must be the Granger-girl’s familiar. Her pet. It seemed to be searching for her.

It was the ugliest cat he had ever seen. It had a grumpy, oddly squashed face and was most obviously bow-legged. It sniffed its way down along the steps towards the spot he had stared at. There it stopped, sniffed and glanced around. Again a heart-rending mewing, then its gleaming yellow eyes spotted him.

If any cat was able to look accusing, it was this one. It stared. It seemed to know. Severus noticed, it had yellow eyes. As a boy he too had once had a cat with eyes like that.

OO

Down in the Slytherin dormitory, Severus Snape lay in his large wooden four-poster bed. His wand, on the pillow next to him, cast a dim light. The dark-green curtains were drawn shut against the icy chill from outside, but he could see the small clouds of his breath in the chilly air, nonetheless.

He was quite used to it. After all, this was his final year, but he remembered quite well, how badly he had shivered from the cold in his first year. It was never actually warm in the dungeons, but winter made it all the worse.

He was glad the curtains’ thick, velvet material blocked most of the cold and the other boys’ sleeping noise, and hid him from view. Nostradamus, his large black tomcat, lay settled onto his chest – purring. Severus absentmindedly stroked the smooth, silky fur. The tomcat purred blissfully and hooked his talons into Severus’ pyjama-jacket, watching him intensely out of narrowed, yellow eyes.

Most cats had greenish eyes, Severus thought. It was quite seldom, to find one with yellow eyes. He liked this cat and often talked to him, when the others were asleep. He seemed to understand much more than most of his house mates did. Severus had him since the day he had received his Hogwarts-letter and his father had taken him to Diagon Alley.

“Nox,” he muttered quietly, and the wand’s light flicked out.

He welcomed the darkness around him. It seemed to make things easier, as he tried to sort his confused feelings out. He was really surprised by the new Gryffindor-girl’s behaviour towards him. He did not understand it at all. They had gazed into each other’s eyes three times today. First at Potions, and that had been quite odd. She had almost seemed to recognise him. But that was not possible, was it? He had never seen her before. He was sure about that.

Later, when he had walked into the History of Magic classroom, she had looked at him, again. And she had blushed, like she had at Potions, earlier. He had stared at her back during the lesson, until she had suddenly turned around to look at him. If he did not know better, he would have though that she might like him. But that could hardly be the case, could it? She, was a Gryffindor after all. Gryffindors did not like Slytherins. And Slytherins … Well, it just did not fit.

‘What a pity,’ he thought again. ‘Couldn’t she have been Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff? Or even better, Slytherin!’ He smiled. That would have been perfect. But Gryffindor, of all houses … Honestly.

At the common room, there had been some nasty gossip about her, this evening. Lucius had made fun of her and Melon McNair had laughed loudest. Severus had dated her a few times, as his father encouraged him to do, but – it had been no fun at all.

“What do you think of this, Nossy?” he whispered. The tomcat mewed and nudged his head against his hand. Severus chuckled slightly. “Ahh, thanks for that insightful advice. You’re of great help, as usual. You just want to be stroked again, mhmmh?” The pet purred and nudged his head into the boy’s caresses, until he finally fell asleep.

OO

For a few seconds, Severus stared back at the ginger cat. It had yellow eyes, just like Nossy.

“She isn’t here, I’m sorry,” he whispered. Without thinking, he squatted down and stretched out his hand. “Come here,” he flattered gently. “Just come, ‘tom’-boy, I won’t hurt you.”

He held his breath and after a few seconds of hesitation, the ginger tomcat slowly descended the stairs, his bottle-brush tail high in the air. It sniffed in his direction, then rubbed its head against the man’s hand. “Yes.” Severus smiled, as he felt the cool, little nose brushing against his skin. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

He sat down onto one of the steps and started to carefully stroke the ginger cat’s fur. It tippled on the spot, arched its back upwards, the bottle-brush tail switching slightly – then snuggled its head against Severus’ leg and – purred.

“Yes, good boy,” he muttered softly. “Good boy, don’t you worry. We’ll find her. We just have to. Yes, that’s a good boy. Won’t you come with me? I’ve still some chicken at my office, you know?”

He had not been to dinner that evening, as he did not feel in the mood to face anyone at the moment. He had just asked for some food at the kitchens, instead. “Do you like chicken, ‘tommy’- cat?” Severus smiled and when he finally got up, to head for his quarters, the ginger tomcat followed.

A/N: Thank you for all the nice feedback. I’m really, really happy so many people seem to like this.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Hermione woke early the next morning. Sunbeams peered through a gap in the red velvet curtains of her four-poster and bathed the wooden floor in a warm, honey-golden light. She smiled and turned to her other side, remembering the strange dream she’d had.

She had actually dreamed of being lost in time, in the schooldays of Harry’s parents and Snape. Snape – She frowned slightly in remembrance of her dream. The others were still asleep. As usual. She decided to drop by at the library before breakfast.

When she swung her legs out of bed, her gaze fell onto Parvati’s four-poster. She noticed, the other girl had not completely drawn her curtains shut, either. Hermione cached a glimpse of her sleeping form under the covers. She was sleeping on her stomach, her face turned away from her, the long, dark-red curls spread over her pillow.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Red curls? Parvati did not have any curls. Her hair was straight and – black! That girl over there was not Parvati. But –

”Ginny?” she asked hopefully. She had not any clue, why Ginny should be sleeping in that bed, instead of Parvati. It did not make any sense.

“Mmmhm,” the red-haired girl turned sleepily around. “Oh-hi! Morning, Géraldine…” she clapped a hand over her mouth and yawned. “What time is it?”

“Well that’s the question!” Hermione muttered bitterly.

“What did you say?”

“Oh nothing. Never mind,” Hermione frowned, “morning, Lily.”

OO

When the candle on the desk beside him flickered out Severus Snape looked up in surprise. He had been so absorbed in his reading, he had not noticed the pale morning light that already crept through the high narrow windows, into the vast, dimly lit room.

He closed the heavy leather-bound book with a sigh of frustration, and raised both of his arms over his head to stretch his aching back. The large tomcat in the chair next to him, lazily opened its eyes to small yellow slits, yawned and decided to snooze on. It was quite used to such behaviour in a human.

Severus stifled a yawn. He had not even noticed how many hours he had sat bowed over the large encyclopaedia, ancient scriptures and rolls of parchment. There was a pile of various books at the desk in front of him. He rubbed his tired eyes, then slipped his gaze over the mess he had accumulated.

Several opened books and small, hastily-scribbled notes surrounded him. Crumpled pieces parchment covered the floor. To each side of his chair towered a pile of books. One he’d already looked through on the right and another – even higher pile – that still needed to be searched through on his left. He would have to return later to finish his research.

With another sigh of frustration, he marked the books he had not read so far, picked up his wand and started to levitate each book back onto its shelf. Afterwards he lazily summoned the mess of paper on the floor, gathered up his things and left for breakfast. This was going to be a really long day.

OO

“A morning person, are we?” Lily smiled.

Hermione grinned and shuffled over towards the window to cast a look at the sunny winter landscape. “There’s lots more snow outside,” she told the other girl.

“Well, at least the weather is fine,” Lily remarked, “we have Flying lessons this afternoon.” She frowned. “With Slytherin.”

“Oh-w” Hermione moaned. Just what she needed, a teenage Snape on a broom.

Lily giggled. “Oh, I know what you mean. I don’t like it, either. I’m always afraid of making a fool out of myself in front of the boys.”

“Especially James.” Hermione remarked dryly.

Lily blushed at that. “Oh, yes. He is such a good flyer. Just wait, till you see it yourself.”

“Aren’t the Quidditch players excused from Flying lessons? I mean, with all those training sessions they have?”

“No, why should they?”

“Ooch, I just thought it might be a little too much flying for them.” Hermione shrugged.

“How could there be too much flying? They take every opportunity they can get.”

“Ah…” Hermione started to search through her trunk for new robes and some underclothes to wear beneath.

“What are you up to?” Lily frowned, “It’s too early for breakfast.”

“Oh, I just thought of dropping by at the library,” Hermione explained. “I need to look something up.”

“Well then,” Lily sighed and started to get up herself, “if it’s that urgent.”

“What are you doing?” Hermione looked at her in surprise.

“Well, I’m going to the library with you,” the other girl explained smiling. “Since it’s your first day, I guess I’ll have to show you the way.”

Hermione was completely taken aback. “But I know –” she began, but trailed off at the surprised look at Lily’s face. “I know – I’ll find it on my own – thank you, Lily, you needn’t come with me,” she completed the sentence.

“Oh don’t talk such rubbish, Géraldine,” Lily smiled, “of course I’ll come with you. But you should know it’s just this one time,” she grinned. “Don’t expect me to do such a stupid thing every morning. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind, who’d be sitting in the library even before breakfast!”

OO

Severus looked up at the sound of voices that reached his ear. Female voices, laughing and talking to each other, obviously approached the library. He frowned. At this early hour this place had been all his in previous years. He did not like the thought of being disturbed by anyone while at his studies. Most of all not by some giggling, chatting girls.

He put down his quill and looked at the entrance in annoyance. Just that moment the dark wooden door opened and two Gryffindor girls stepped into the library.

It was Lily, he noticed, and the Henshler-girl. Quickly he returned his gaze to the essay in front of him, pretending to not have seen or noticed anyone.

The giggling stopped abruptly as they caught sight of him. He still did not look up, but listened.

“What is he doing here?” the new girl whispered uncomfortably.

“I don’t know,” Lily grinned, “but he’s obviously just as mad as you are.”

OO

Hermione flinched as Snape looked up and his dark eyes locked with hers. There was some strange, intense expression in them. His gaze seemed to seek her out. She shifted uncomfortably.

His lips curled into a dry smile. “If you don’t mind,” he sneered, “this is a library and some people are trying to work in here.”

Lily just shrugged. “Mind your own business, Snape,” she told him sweetly.

He glared at her.

Hermione shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

Snape shook his head and returned to his essay. He muttered something under his breath, Hermione did not understand, but she recognized an all too familiar insult passing his lips -

“How dare you calling me a mudblood, you nasty git!” she flew out at him.

Severus’ head snapped up, his eyes widened in surprise.

He had not really meant to say that. He did not care for a witches or wizard’s blood-type, in the slightest. All that mattered in his opinion was – power –

He just felt so bloody annoyed by her.

“What the hell – You?”

Another sneer curled his lips. “Oh, I see…” 

                                 OO                                              

Hermione glared back at Snape, who pursed his lips. “Isn’t there any real wizarding blood in that pitiful house of yours? Honestly .. ”

“You –” Hermione drew in a sharp breath, her cheeks all flushed from anger. How dare he... “Take that back, you – you – you ...”

“Yes,” he taunted, “what is it? Are you going to hurt me now?”

Hermione felt her blood boil with rage. This was just too much. Wasn’t it enough that he would torture them every day in her own time? Had he to insult her even now? After all, it was his fault that her whole life was a bloody mess all of a sudden.

In blind fury she pulled her wand out and pointed it at the stunned boy at the desk. She didn’t listen to Lily’s scared screaming to be careful.

After the first surprise, Snape jumped to his feet and pointed his own wand at her. Even in her anger, she was amazed, how quick his reflexes were.

“Expelliarmus!!” he bellowed just the same second as she did.

Both of their wands were whirled out of their hands and the very next moment, they both stared a the different wand in their hands in complete shock.

Lily clapped her hands over her mouth and giggled. “Oh that’s priceless – But I guess you could sell tickets for the show... and the look in your eyes ... honestly …”

OO

Severus stared at the girl in front of him in complete shock. He had never been disarmed before by anyone other than his father, and even that had not happened for two years now. “What the heck –”

His cheeks were all flushed from anger. “Give my wand back – mudblood,” he snapped sharply.

“Oh try and get it Snake!” she hissed at him.

Severus could not believe this. How embarrassing. And why the heck did she have to look that incredibly beautiful?!

He scowled. It just wasn’t fair. Her bushy curls surrounded her flushed face. Her cinnamon coloured eyes were blazing at him.

“If that’s the way purebloods duel, there isn’t much to be proud of, is there?” she taunted him. His nostrils went wide as he drew in a sharp breath. “Watch what you’re saying Henshler ...”

OO

“Oh so it’s Henshler now? Not the little mudblood anymore?” Hermione mocked.

Lily tucked at her arm. “Come on Géraldine, he’s no fun at duelling, just like Frank. Let’s go ... ” she hissed.

Neither Hermione nor Snape listened – they just glared at each other, completely oblivious to anything else. Suddenly a large black tomcat leaped out of the chair behind Snape and brushed mewing against his leg.

“What the – Nossy, you stupid cat – ” he gasped. “Get away!”

But ‘Nossy’ did not seem to mind. Hermione used the chance to disarm Snape, while he was distracted by his cat. “Expelliamus!”

His eyes widened in shock as her wand was ripped out of his hand by the spell. Hermione grinned and pointed it in his direction. “Why hello, Snape,” she mocked, “that’s a nice pet you have there. Very useful. Come here kitty.”

To her utmost surprise, he stepped in front of the cat. “Don’t you dare hurt my cat,” he told her. “He hasn’t done anything to you.”

Hermione’s eyes softened a bit at that. “I’d never do such a thing. I’d never take my grudge against you out on your pet,” she told him earnestly.

His eyes widened in surprise. “But why .. Why did you call for him then?”

“Well, he’s your familiar, isn’t he? He can get you your wand back.”

Snape looked completely taken aback at that. “You’d give me my wand back.?”

“Well, of course, you could hardly participate in lessons without it, could you?” she sneered. “Except Potions, as there's not much foolish wand waving with it, is there? Maybe that’s the right thing for you.”

His eyes narrowed into small slits.

“Oh and maybe Flying lessons,” she could have sworn, he flinched at the mention of that. “There might be some others, too,” she grinned, “maybe you really don’t need your wand back then.” She carefully turned it in her hands, to examine it. “It looks nice enough to me. Maybe I’ll keep it. What is it anyway?”

“Yew-tree and dragon heart-strings,” he muttered. His lips switched into a half smile. “Give it back to me Henshler,” he added calmly.

“Won’t you send your kitty to me then?”

“He’s no kitty,” he sneered, “his name is Nostradamus.”

Hermione’s lips switched at that, too. “Indeed? How prophetic.”

With a last sneer, Snape kneeled down next to his cat and stroked the silky black fur. “Get me my wand back, Nossy, will you?” he asked in a tone of voice that was completely different from anything Hermione had heard from him so far.

When the large tomcat approached her carefully, Hermione got to her knees, too. “Yes, that’s right,” she muttered kindly and reached out for him. For a second, the black tomcat just stared at her out of huge yellow eyes – then it carefully stepped closer.

“Look out,” Snape warned her, “he has no liking for strangers – he’ll scratch you.”

Hermione ignored that comment.                         

OO

“I’m warning you,” Severus frowned, “I’ve told you, he’ll scratch you. Don’t you dare hit him if he does.”

To his shame, his tomcat had a completely different opinion about the matter though. In a flexible movement it nudged its head against the Henshler-girl’s knuckles and purred.

“Yes,” she murmured softly, “that’s a good boy.” She started to carefully stroke the silky black fur. Nostradamus tippled on the spot – purring. His bright yellow eyes fixed on hers.

Severus could not help but stare. His cat had never, ever done such a thing before. He was acting the opposite of how he usually reacted to everyone, except him. Even to his dorm mates Nostradamus was not tame. But under that strange girl’s caresses, the stupid cat melted like butter in the sun.

OO

Hermione put the wand to the floor and continued to stroke the tomcat. She lifted her eyes and met Snape’s, with a mocking smile. “That’s a really nice cat you have there Snape.”

He glared at her.

They had been that absorbed to each others gaze, none of them noticed that Lily had also got to her knees to stroke the cat. Angry growling, furious hissing noises, and a yell of pain brought their attention back to the situation around them.

“Ouch,” Lily flinched back with shock. A long scratch ran across the back of her hand.

“Lily,” Hermione gasped, “did he scratch you?”

“Yes,” she frowned, “that’s no cat, that’s a panther..”

“Let me see. Oh it’s just a little scratch .. Here, take this handkerchief.”

“It’s nothing Géraldine,” Lily shrugged, “just a little scratch, as you said. I just got caught by surprise that’s all.”

Nossy took the opportunity to fulfil his task. In a quick movement, he snapped the wand from the floor and carried it back to his owner like a dog.

Snape smiled and stroked his pet’s back. “Thank you.”

Hermione and Lily glared at him, but he just shrugged. “Well I warned you, didn’t I?”

When the girls left the library, they hared him muttering to his cat. “Bloody traitor, you’re not worth a single tin I feed you.” But the gentle tone in his voice was teasing.

OO

At the breakfast table, Harry cast a dark scowl at his cereal and put down his spoon. “I don’t know what to think about this,” he sighed.

“How could such a thing happen to her? And now Crookshanks is missing, too.”

Ron frowned at that. “Do you think he’s hiding somewhere?”

“Yeah, probably,” Harry shrugged, “I guess he’s sneaking around, searching for her, or something. Or he’s just hiding, because he’s upset.”

“He’s not a dog, Harry,” Ron frowned, “cats are far more independent.”

“Well independent or not, someone needs to feed him. And he hadn’t touched his bowl this morning.”

“We’ll look for him in the afternoon, OK?”

“OK. What do we have first thing this morning?”

OO

Back at the past Hermione likewise cast a look at her timetable and smiled. “Oh, it’s Transfiguration today. That’s one of my favourite lessons. And afterward there’s Arithmancy, that’s even better!”

“You took Arithmancy, too?” Lily smiled. “That’s fine, you can go with Remus then. I have Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.”

“No History, No Potions,” James clapped his hands with joy.

“Yes, all-in-all a nice day,” Hermione smiled at Lily. “If it only weren’t for Flying lessons in the afternoon …”

“Oh yeah, damn Flying lessons,” Lily sighed in frustration, “just what I need after that brilliant start to the day.” She brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“There’s no need to complain about Flying –” James commented, but trailed off. “What happened to your hand, Lil?”

“She fought a panther,” Hermione giggled.

At the blank look in the boys’ eyes, Lily explained. “Well, Géraldine duelled with Snape at the library and –”

“What?!” James, Remus and Frank gasped at the same time. Sirius jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over at the rushed movement. With loud clattering, it hit the floor. “Did he hurt you?!” he yelled furiously. Hermione was completely taken aback at the concerned look in his light-grey eyes.

“Oh, calm down Siri, will you?” Lily pleaded. “Of course he didn’t hurt her.”  

Hermione nodded. “No, he just insulted Lily and me and we duelled and …”

“Ha ha, really witty,” Peter squeaked, ”you would hardly be here to tell us that story then, would you?”

They broke into a loud discussion about the matter and Lily told their friends what had happened. Hermione’s gaze slipped towards the Slytherin House Table - and locked with those of the dark-haired boy, who watched her with an intense unreadable stare.

Transfiguration passed quite uneventfully. Except from some dark scowls Sirius shot in her direction, everything went fine.

“I can’t see why he’s so sour,” Hermione sighed on their way up to the Arithmancy classroom. Remus just cast an odd glance at her.

“Have I done anything to him, I didn’t notice?” she frowned.

“Well,” Remus began hesitatingly, “I guess he might be a little –” he broke off.

“Yeah?” Hermione requested.

“Never mind,” he grinned mischievously at her, “that’s not my story to tell, Géraldine, I’m sorry. Better ask him yourself.”

OO

By the time they arrived at the snow-covered front lawn, the Slytherins were already there. Hermione felt a strange sensation at the pit of her stomach, as she noticed the dark-haired boy among them. He looked different somehow. She could not put a finger on it, but the tense expression on his pale face reminded her strangely of one of her friends.

When the teacher appeared and asked them to get their brooms ready, she noticed the slight shadow that slipped across his features. And suddenly she knew, of whom his gaze reminded her. That was not the nasty, superior sneer of the dreaded Potions Master she knew, but the frightened, scared look of someone who knew he had to face a dreaded task. It was the same look Neville had on his face whenever he headed for Potions class.

Severus Snape was afraid of Flying lessons! Maybe even afraid of heights in general. Well, she could hardly blame him for that. She was not actually fond of them either. But for some reason, it seemed to bother him a lot more than her.

“Well then,” Professor Wendy-Wings clapped her hands. “I want you to pair up with each other. We’ll continue on blocking and evasive manoeuvres today. Whenever your partner or – opponent – comes into your reach, you try to block thier way. Don’t fly too high, in case someone gets knocked off his broom. And no wand action. This is not air duelling. It’s just meant to train your reflexes to a sudden attack. I want no injuries because of foolish showing off or personal grudges. Mr Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Black, bear that in mind, will you?” 

With that everyone set into action. Twenty brooms darted up into the sunny winter sky. The cold air brushed against her face and Hermione was quite busy to keep control of her own broom, whenever Lily dashed forward to block her way in mid movement; but she still could not resist to cast Snape some side glances. It was just too much fun to see how much he hated flying. Whenever Lucius attacked him, a kind of scared expression appeared on his face.

She noticed his knuckles went all white from his tight grip around the broomstick. He seemed to be on the run all the time. At every loop he seemed to almost fall off his broom. It was quite witty. The cold winter air added pink patches to his pale cheeks and his dark hair was tousled from flying. He did not look bad at all.

She was surprised, how well Frank handled his broom, though. It was not similar to Neville’s awkward way of flying in the slightest. Peter on the other hand seemed to be in some trouble. Remus was not especially skilled at flying but he managed to fulfil the requirements well enough. Sirius and James pulled some spectacular stunts at each other.

Another attack from Lily pulled Hermione’s attention away from the boys. She almost fell off her broom, as she jumped out of her friend’s way. Lily grabbed her by the collar of her cloak and pulled her back into a sitting position. In a fit of giggles, they sank to the ground. This lesson was so much fun.

But only a few minutes later, Professor Wendy-Wings blew her whistle. “No, no, no! That’s no good at all. Come down again!” She clapped her hands and everyone followed her order. They formed a circle around her.

“What did I tell you about showing off earlier? Mr Potter? This is no Quidditch game, please pull these pranks elsewhere. Mr. Malfoy wipe that grin off your face. I noticed what you did to Mr. Snape – give him some rest now.”

“And you, young Ladies,” she glared in their direction,” should take this more seriously. Miss Evans, you go work with Mr. Potter. Miss Henshler, over there to Mr. Lupin, please. Mr. Black, you pair up with Mr. Snape. And Mr. Malfoy is going to work with Mr. Longbottom now.”

She made a few further changes, then sent them up again.

Working with Remus was quite pleasant. He flew rather carefully himself, and never attacked Hermione in a rushed movement. It was kind of relaxing and fun, too.

It happened quite unexpectedly. All Hermione noticed, was a blur of black to her left and some gasps from her fellow students. She turned around, just in time to catch sight of a dark-haired boy, falling off his broom.

“Sirius, Sirius are you hurt?” Lily yelled, rushing towards the place, he had just disappeared in a thick pile of snow. James was already at his side to help him to his feet again. Sirius freed himself out of the masses of snow that had covered him. He looked ready to kill. “Where’s the evil rotter?!”

“Who?” Peter, Frank and Remus asked in surprise as they landed next to their friend, too.

“Snape!!” Sirius spat.

“Snape?” Remus requested confused. “What about him?”

“He blocked my way!”

“Well wasn’t that the idea of it?” Hermione grinned, but Sirius lost his temper at that. “Oh great!" he snapped, “Now you’re even going to the grease-ball’s defence! They should have put you into Slytherin!”

“Sirius,” Lily frowned, “that’s not a nice thing to say. I think Snape lost control of his broom. And Géraldine just wants to ...”

“He did that on purpose!” he yelled. He just wants to make me look like a fool.”

Lily patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Well he doesn't need to help much, then, does he?” she grinned. At his furious glare, she added seriously: “Don’t mind it too much, Sirius. You know, he’s trouble for everyone.”

“But –”

“Mr. Black,” Professor Wendy-Wings told him annoyed, “calm down now, will you? It most certainly was an accident.”

But Sirius still cursed under his breath as he searched for his broom beneath the snow. The others mounted their own brooms again and no one but Hermione and Lily heard his next half muttered words.

“Just wait, Snape,” he glared, brushing snow off his cloak, “I’ll get back at you for this, you’ll see.”

A/N: Thanks for reading!     

Since this was written long before the 5’th book was out, I did not know anything about a possible Severus/Lily background from their childhood days. I always imagined him to come from a pureblood family instead.

In my imagination Lucius is their age. Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus are alive in the present. There are probably a couple of other things different from how the books turned out. I just thought I should mention this so you would not get confused. Hope you like it so far.      

Smiles, Serpentina 

Chapter Text

With a loud thud the brown envelope landed in the bowl in front of her. The rustling of hundreds of feathers filled the air as the owls swept into the Great Hall to deliver the post the next morning. Another letter was dropped into Remus’ lap and Peter was hit in the head by a small package. “Ouch..”

With an annoyed gasp, Hermione picked the milk-dripping brown envelope out of her bowl and looked for the address. “Erwww.. honestly …”

“Oh, that’s for me!” Lily beamed. “Let me see!”

“Here you are.”

“Thanks!”

Lily ripped up the envelope and quickly read the lines. “Oh,” she smiled, “it’s from my parents. They’re asking if I’ll come home this Christmas break.”

“Oh,” Hermione muttered with a sudden feeling of anguish and worry about the kind of Christmas her parents and friends might spend without her, “…and, will you?”

“I don’t know,” Lily answered hesitatingly. “Normally, I would have gone home, but – Mum wrote, my sister Petunia and her fiancé, Vernon,” she pulled a disgusted face, “..would come home for Christmas, too. So maybe it’d be more fun to stay at Hogwarts, I suppose. After all it’s our final year!” Her eyes briefly flickered at James, then returned to Hermione again. “And now that Géraldine is here…”

“Well I’m definitely going home,” Frank explained, grinning.

“I’m staying,” James remarked with a sigh, “Mum and Dad are on a business trip for the ministry - again.”

Lily smiled.

“I’m staying, too,” Peter interjected, “How about you, Sirius?”

“Yeah, me, too,” he muttered. Hermione noticed, he clearly avoided her eyes. He kept staring at his plate nearly all the time, and did not eat much. She noticed some meaningful glances between Sirius and James. Remus looked kind of worried, though.

“What about you Remus?” Lily asked. “Will you stay again, as usual?”

“Mmm,” he shrugged uncomfortably, “maybe I’ll go to see my Grandma for a day or two –”

“Again?” Lily frowned, “didn’t you visit her just last month?”

“Yeah, but – ”

“Hey,” James interrupted hastily, “wouldn’t it be groovy, if we’d all stay and have a lil’ Christmas party of our own this year?”

“I can’t,” Frank shrugged, “but that’ll be probably a lot of fun.” He cast a brief glance at the Ravenclaw table. Hermione noticed a pretty blond girl, who smiled at him and waved him towards her. She also noticed the pink patches that appeared at Frank’s cheeks as he returned the smile. “I’ll have a quick word with Alice,” he muttered and leaped to his feet. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up with you, OK?”

“Yeah, OK,” Remus grinned.

“Who’s that?” Hermione asked at the clear amusement on her friends’ faces.

“Oh, just Alice Deburau,” Lily told her innocently.

“Indeed,” Hermione remarked dryly, “and who exactly is she?”

“Mmm – a Ravenclaw,” Lily responded nonchalantly, suppressing a grin, “Oh, and probably Frank’s date for the graduation ball, I suspect.”

OO

Ten minutes later, they were on their way to Defence Against The Dark Arts. Sirius walked quite close to Hermione and she noticed James and Remus did not bother to wait for them as he slowed down, but continued their chatting with Lily. All three were practically dragging Peter along with them.

When Hermione began to quicken her steps to catch up with them, she felt Sirius’ hand on her arm. “Géraldine?” he started reluctantly, “may I have a word with you?”

“Of course,” she answered, surprised, and looked at the spot were he touched her forearm. Sirius followed her gaze and hurriedly pulled his hand back. He looked at his feet and scraped uneasily at the floor. “Emm Géraldine, I emm, … just …wanted to … apologise ..” he muttered, “about yesterday. It wasn’t right of me, to be so mean to you. I’ve just been so bloody annoyed, you know?”

She looked up at him, in surprise. “Why?”

“Well, because of Snape, the bloody git!”

“Oh, what about him?”

“He’s a pain in the a – Sorry,” he muttered. “He’s an idiot.”

Hermione grinned. “And that’s my fault?”

“Oh, erw, no, of course it’s not, but – you know, I’ve been wondering,“ Sirius babbled, then blurted out, “why did you stare at him like that at Potions class?”

“Oh,” she blushed, “I – I got a little er – confused – at the sight of him.”

“Why?” he glared. “Do you like him?”

“Well, I can hardly like him,” Hermione told him softly, “it’s only my third day around here. I don’t know him at all!”

Sirius cast an insecure glance at her. “But you stared at him, as if you did.”

“Oh that’s probably just because I’ve been so surprised. He reminds me very much of one of my teachers at my old school, you know?” Hermione told him.

“Must have been a creepy place then,” Sirius remarked grinning, then turned serious again. “Emm Géraldine, would you – would you – go to Hogsmeade with me?”

“What?! Oh,” she blushed again, “I – I guess, we’re all going down there, won’t we?”

“Yeah, but you know, what I mean –”

“I’m sorry, Sirius, but I’ve been through a lot of trouble lately. I’m not sure if I’m ready for dating anyone at the moment…” Hermione explained carefully.

“Oh – that’s OK,” he smiled. “Just keep away from that grease-ball, will you?”

She grinned back at him. “Well, as long as I don’t have to duel with him again.”

“Be careful, will you?” Sirius asked seriously. “Snape is not the easiest person to cross and he’s watching you, all the time, I’ve noticed that.”

“Do you think he’s up to something?” Hermione asked nervously, ignoring the funny feeling at the pit of her stomach.

“I don’t know …”

OO

“Did he ask you out?” Lily whispered excitedly as Hermione slipped in her seat next to her. “Yeah, but I – told him, I wasn’t ready for this at the moment,” she whispered back.

“Ohh,” Lily sounded kind of disappointed.

“Lily?”

“Mmm –”

“Did you know, he was going to ask me out?”

“Erw, mmmm –”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“James asked me not to do so, I’m sorry.”

“What had James to do with it?” Hermione frowned.

“Well, he asked me to find out if you had a boyfriend,” Lily admitted.

“Oh, so that’s why you asked me that, the first evening.”

“Mmm-no,” Lily shook her head, “that was out of my own curiosity.” She smiled apologetically at Hermione. “You know what? I was afraid, you might have had a thing for Snape.”

“Snape?! O-oh,” Hermione felt she was blushing again. “What made you think so?”

“Well it was kind of strange, how you stared at him in Potions class, you know? And later on, at History of Magic, you got all nervous and messed with your book and stuff,” Lily told her, frowning slightly. “You don’t really like him, do you?”

Hermione drew in a sharp breath. But at that instant their chatting was interrupted by a stern remark of Professor Frankenstein, who was not amused by their lack of attention to the golem he had brought to class that day.

OO

The next few days passed quite uneventfully. Hermione adjusted to her new situation as well as possible. Although the others were almost three months ahead of her, she had not any real problems to catch up on lessons. Lily was of great help - at Charms work and otherwise - and of course the boys were really nice, too.

Remus explained some new interpretation lines at Arithmancy to her. Frank showed her the curse of Shivering Fits, which was very useful to distract your opponent. James gave her some advice about Flying practice, and Peter lent his Herbologies book to her.

Sirius was especially kind to her now. He started to follow her around with huge puppy eyes and even offered to give her a hand at Astronomy.

OO

At her usual morning studies at the library, Hermione regularly crossed Snape’s path, and he glared at her whenever their eyes met. He had not spoken to her since their duelling disaster, but his eyes followed her almost all the time. Sirius had been right, he was watching her. She just was not sure of the reason.

The match against Ravenclaw had been a little confusing though. From the distance, James had looked even more like Harry. Hermione had always expected him to go for the Snitch and had been utterly surprised every time he had caught the Quaffle instead. One time, when she had spotted the glittering golden Snitch a few inches above his head, she had jumped to her feet and yelled: “Yeah, Harry! There’s the Snitch! Right above you – go for it, hurry up, Harry!!!”

James had not reacted to that at all, but it had earned her some odd looks from Lily and Sirius, who had sat next to her in the stands.

OO

As the final weekend before the Christmas break arrived, Hermione found herself ice-skating on an arm of the frozen lake at Hogsmeade with Lily and the boys. It was a beautiful, icy cold, but sunny winter’s day. The old wizarding town was covered beneath a thick fluffy blanket of snow. Christmas was in the air and an odd mix of students, inhabitants and visitors filled the narrow streets. People hurried along, packed with little parcels and packages.

The merry sound of ‘Jingle Bells’ drifted across the ice. An old, funny looking wizard with a moustache and beard like Flitwick’s, played various Christmas songs for a few knuts on an accordion. Several people were gliding by in pairs to the music.

“You know what, Géraldine?” Lily grabbed both of her hands and started to whirl her around at high speed. “I’ve decided to stay for the holidays, too. Isn’t that great?! We can get back at the boys for that prank they played on us last week – you know, that frog-spawn-soap in the showers. I’ve already some ideas – that’ll be so much fun – o-ooh-" with a loud clattering they landed on the ice and broke into a fit of giggles.

“Oops-“ Lily gasped, “I guess I’m all dizzy now – maybe we should try the other direction for a change.”

“Maybe we should take a little time off,” Hermione grinned back.

“Yeah, OK.” Lily agreed.

They bought some hot, delicious, roast chestnuts from an old witch at a booth next to the lake and watched the boys, who eagerly tried to force each other off-balance. As they sat on a dark-red wooden bench beneath the snow-covered, low branches of an old plane-tree, Hermione had the strangest feeling of being watched. When she looked up, she almost flinched. Severus Snape leaned against the garden wall, across the ice, watching her from the distance. She cast a careful sideways glance at Lily, but her friend’s eyes were fixed on the oh so familiar dark-haired boy with round glasses. She was not noticing anything else.

Hermione exhaled with a sigh of relief. She could very well do without her friend’s embarrassing teasing comments about Snape’s attention.

When the boys decided to join some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in their game of ‘Ice Quidditch’, Lily suggested they look for some last minute Christmas presents and Hermione was more than willing to head for the book shop with her.

OO  

Severus Snape looked tensely at the old wizard in front of him. “So you still don’t know, how to get her back?”

“No, Severus.”

“How did her parents take the news?”

“Well, what did you expect?” Dumbledore sighed gravely. “They were inconsolable and terribly disturbed.”

“I’ve been searching through a couple of books at the library about the matter, Albus,” Snape replied uneasily, “ – and there might be a way to get into contact with her. As it is possible to talk to someone by calling their head into the flames by Floo Powder, it might also be an option, to call someone’s head out of a different time. I’ve been working on a potion recently…”

“Ah Severus,” the old man injected sadly, “that’s very well intended of you, but it won’t work, I’m afraid. It’s such a huge gap in time that needed to be crossed and therefore …”

“What do you mean by that Albus?” Snape asked suspiciously.

“Don’t you know what I mean, Severus?” Dumbledore’s bright-blue eyes fixed him with a penetrating stare. As Snape just shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the Headmaster added: “You know quite well what I mean, don’t you?”

“Ewmm-”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember her, ”the older man frowned.

Severus’ eyes went wide at that. “So you’ve been ‘dreaming’ about her, too?” he asked, taken aback.

“Yes, Severus, I have and Minerva has done so, too.”

“So she really is - then?!” Severus gasped. Dumbledore just nodded.

“Oh … And you think the memories are coming to us by way of dreams?”

“Yes. Whatever has been changed by her presence, adapts with our memory by the help of dreams, Severus. I remember I myself telling her not to interfere with anything, when she wanted to tell me about urgent matters occurring the future – now I know what it was about – Just think, she wanted to tell me about Voldemort. Oh if I had only listened ...”

“Do you think …”

“I don’t know, Severus, I don’t know –” the old man sighed.

“So you’ve been dreaming about her, too?” Snape concluded, thunderstruck. “And I thought it would just be me .. Because I feel responsible for what happened and –” he trailed off, looking terribly miserable all of a sudden.

“What do you remember?” the Headmaster asked softly.

“I’m not quite sure … I remember a Potions lesson, where she stared at me – now I now why – and I remember, duelling with her at the library.”

“Indeed?” a glimpse of humour returned to the old man’s gaze. “May I ask for what reason?”

Snape shifted uneasily in his seat again. “Oh, never mind Albus, never mind …”

The twinkling in Dumbledore’s eyes increased at his embarrassment.

“Really, Severus. You know it might be of importance?”

“Emm, well, I teased her, because of her muggle-inheritance and she – got mad with me.”

“Oh,” the other man smiled again, “ – and what happened?”

“I got distracted and – she disarmed me,” Snape muttered uneasily.

“Indeed?” Dumbledore repeated mockingly.

“Yes –” Snape admitted, slightly embarrassed. “I also remember a dreadful Flying lesson, where Sirius Black picked on me all the time and finally landed in the midst of a huge pile of snow as I wasn’t able to get out of his way in time…” he grinned, “that was rather amusing. She was there, too. Apart from that I remember watching her, ice-skating on the frozen lake at Hogsmeade. Yes, I remember that quite well ...”

He smiled again. “It was such a beautiful sight, to watch her laughing with her friends in that sunny winter landscape – her long chocolate coloured hair whirling behind her. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her and ...”

He looked up at the Headmaster’s chuckling and frowned. “I never noticed the colour of her eyes before and on the whole – I’ve never thought of her as pretty, before. But now – What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I guess, your former self is developing a kind of er – liking for Miss Granger, Severus and therefore, it changes your attitude towards her – in the present,” Dumbledore declared thoughtfully.

“What!?!” Snape gasped with shock. “No!!!”

Dumbledore smiled broadly at him.

“Oh my g– Isn’t there anything that could be done about that, Albus?” Snape asked desperately. “A Dreamless Sleep Potion?” 

Dumbledore just shook his head. “No.” He chuckled again at the look of horror in the younger man’s eyes. “I don’t think that would be of any help, Severus. By the way, do you have a cat nowadays?”

“Err, what makes you ask?”

“There are several ginger cat hairs on your robes, Severus.”

OO

Lily looked up from the large copy of ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ with a slight frown. “No, that’s not the right present for James, either. Don’t you have an idea what I might get him, Géraldine?” she asked desperately. “I want it to be something really special, something he really enjoys, but it mustn’t be too expensive of course. He wouldn’t like that.”

“Mmm,” Hermione muttered thoughtfully, then beamed all of a sudden. “Yes! How about a broom-care-set?”

“Yeah,” Lily beamed and hugged her, “that’s great, Géraldine! Brilliant! How on earth did you come up with such a wonderful idea?!”

“O-mmmp,” Hermione shrugged grinning, “I don’t know, Lil.”

When they stepped out of the Quidditch shop a few minutes later, the new broom-care-set safety wrapped in a large package, they almost ran into a black-haired boy, who seemed to be contemplating the shop window.

He quickly jumped aside. “Watch where you’re going,” he sneered at them. His dark eyes fixed on Hermione, who blushed a bright shade of crimson.

Lily dragged her around the next corner and broke into a fit of giggles. “Oh, I was right! He fancies you! Oh – that is so funny just wait, till I tell the boys ...”

Hermione frowned at that. “Oh no, Lily, don’t tell them, will you? Sirius will just get mad at him again.”

“Well, he’s always mad at him,” Lily shrugged.

“Yes, but it needn’t get any worse. And I …”

“You – you’re as red as Peter’s Rememberall,” Lily grinned. “Don’t deny it! You’ve noticed it as well. Snape has a crush on you! I know, he follows you around at school to stare at you all the time – but this is even better. Snape at a Quidditch shop!”

“So what?” Hermione asked, slightly annoyed. “Don’t pick on him like that, Lily. Maybe he just wanted to have a look at the new equipment.”

“Yeah sure. Oh come on, Géraldine, just do some thinking, will you? Snape – in front of a Quidditch shop – honestly. That just doesn’t fit.”

She was still teasing her as they wandered along the narrow, snow-covered streets.

When they had barely reached the top of the little hill, where an old, ivy-covered hut was towering, a sudden voice in their backs called: “Well if it isn’t our dear mudblood and her friend the little wench …”

They noticed a group of Slytherin boys, who grinned nastily as Lucius Malfoy drawled on in a bored voice: “Tut, tut, tut, aren’t you afraid, wandering around all by yourselves like this, lassies? It’s a deserted place, you know?” He pointed his head at the shack. “It’s even rumoured to be haunted ...”

Lily closed her eyes into small slits. “Mind your own business, Malfoy!” she glared at him.

“Oh, but the topic of your discussion was so captivating,“ he mocked. “I’m really concerned; my dear friend Severus might come under your friend’s bad influence.”

His eyes flickered at Hermione with a cruel expression. “Are these the ‘personal reasons’ for which you had to change schools in the middle of the term? Did they expel you for turning every boy’s head around?”

Hermione’s face flushed with anger. “What!?”

“Leave her alone, Lucius,” Snape frowned at him. Without anyone’s notice, he had arrived at the scene.

There was a brief moment of tense silence, before Lucius finally shrugged. “If you say so…” he sneered, “-after all it’s you, she’s making a fool of. I just wanted to be of help –”

Hermione still shook with rage as the Slytherins turned and left.

“Lily, Géraldine, is everything all right?!” James panted. He and the other boys hurried up the hill to join them. “We saw Malfoy and his goons talking to you!” Remus added.

“And Snape, the bloody git!” Sirius frowned.

“What was it all about?” Peter asked excitedly.

Lily told them and Sirius almost lost his temper once again. “Oh – how dare he?” he snapped, “I’ll get back at him for that!”

“Oh Siri,” Lily giggled, “you can’t get back at everyone, silly. At least Snape acted kind of decently, this time. I just wonder what made him stick up for Géraldine like that –” she grinned sweetly at her friend, who rolled her eyes in response.

‘Honestly,’ Hermione frowned, ‘As if Sirius needed any further encouragement, to be mad at Snape …’

“Just look, silly,” Lily patted Sirius’ arm. “I just wanted to show Géraldine the Shrieking Shack, when that group of idiots arrived, you know?” She looked back at her friend, “Malfoy was right, Géraldine, that shack is really said to be haunted. And it actually looks like a creepy place, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, erm yes,” Hermione muttered uneasily. She had clearly noticed the pain in Remus eyes at that explanation. He had not looked very well anyway recently – there were dark-blue shadows under his eyes and he was pale and tired, but Hermione did not intend to press him on that tricky matter right now. Shivering, she rubbed her hands. “It’s pretty cold up here. I’m freezing. Now, wouldn’t you like to show me that legendary inn you told me about?”

OO

Later that afternoon, Severus Snape consulted the old, black-and-white graduation photo on the mantelpiece of his fireplace. There they were, young and full of dreams of the future, not knowing how terrible would be the times they would soon face. Not knowing that the future they looked so forward to, would bring them nothing but sorrow and grief.

Black and Lupin were conjuring rabbit ears behind Longbottom’s head with their wands, but Longbottom was completely ignoring them as he kissed Alice Deburau. Pettigrew beamed across his whole round face, waving his pointed wizards’ hat. Lily Evans and Potter were gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, oblivious to everything else.

There was Lucius, sneering his arrogant sneer, Crabbe and Goyle next to him grinning brightly. Melon McNair, who was clinging to Nott’s arm, gave him a dark scowl as he looked at the picture. He spotted himself looking back at him with his trademark sneer. But there wasn’t any hint of the girl he was looking for – yet.

With a feeling of regret, he put the photo back in its place and turned his eyes away. He briefly wondered if this was what the Granger-girl might be feeling right now. It was difficult knowing that none of these dreams would come true. All of them would be shattered by Voldemort, one way or another.

Most of these young witches and wizards would either die, or end up in Azkaban, because of that evil, power-obsessed man – or would be tortured into insanity in the Longbottoms’ case. Even the lives of his followers would not turn out as they had expected at that time.

How much he regretted his decision to join their circle. If he would only be given the chance to make a different - a better choice …

OO

The Three Broomsticks was filled with all kinds of magical folk at this late hour of the afternoon. A wave of comforting warmth and happy chatting washed over them as they entered the crowded barroom in a flurry of snow.

A group of Goblins was playing cards in the back of the tavern, their low growling and muffled cursing drifted through the sea of noise around them. Some Elves – real, free, tall Wood-Elves with longbows and quivers, not their poor enslaved relatives – sat in a nook next to the door - tall, slim glasses with a golden-glimmering liquid in front of them.

There were beautiful Christmas decorations everywhere. Hermione noticed the thick garlands of moss, holly and mistletoe that were draped around the various beams and surrounded the entrance door. A large Christmas tree, covered in straw-stars and small red apples, was placed next to the fireplace. Several enchanted candles floated between its branches. The appetising smell of hot baked-apples and honey-cakes filled the air and the fluffy snow that glittered at the window crosses, added a real Christmassy atmosphere.

Half of Hogwarts castle seemed to be united in the cosy tavern with the soot-darkened ceiling. Hermione spotted the Professors Wendy-Wings, McGonagall and Sprout, next to Professor Frankenstein and Madam Pomfrey. She also discovered lots of their fellow students at the various tables. There seemed not a single empty seat left.

“Oh,” Lily sighed, disappointed, “I guess, we have to sit over there, next to that lot of ‘Slythies’, everywhere else is full.”

Hermione, who followed her gaze, flinched as she spotted Malfoy, Nott and – Snape at a table by one of the windows. She cast a quick glance at Sirius, to check on his mood. His eyes darkened at the sight of Snape, but lit up all of a sudden. “James, would you, Peter and Remus order the drinks? I’ll stay with the girls instead and lead them over to that table.”

“Yeah, seriously, Sirius,” his friend grinned.

OO

Severus’ head snapped up at the sound of their voices. Black, Lily and Géraldine approached their place and settled at the table next to theirs. He could clearly hear Black saying: “Oh, just wait till you’ve tried our Butterbeer, Géraldine. You can’t find any better tasting stuff. It’s incredible.”

Lucius and Nott were talking to each other about their plans for the Christmas break, but Severus listened to the conversation at the neighbouring table instead.

Sirius cast a careful glance in his direction, as if to make sure Snape really listened, before he continued in a quite audible whisper: “It’s great that you’re staying for the holidays, too, Géraldine. We can show you some secret passageways – Lily is too much of a coward to come with us.” He grinned at the redhead next to him and continued: “But I think you might be curious to find out more about the castle. There’s a tree on the grounds, for example, that hits everyone who dares to get into its reach – if you don’t know how to treat it …” he smiled mysteriously. “When it’s really quite simple. You just have to press some knot at its roots with a long stick and it’ll stop its attacks.” He laughed slightly. “I can’t tell you right now, in case anyone listens, but you would be impressed what it’s hiding. I’ll take you there some time this holiday, you just have to promise, not to try getting in there on your own, Géraldine, will you?”

Severus watched her reaction carefully. She seemed to be completely taken aback at the news. ‘Just wait, Black,’ he thought, ‘I’ll make sure to spoil you little date, you’ll see.’

OO

Hermione was surprised indeed at Sirius’ words. She could not think of any good reason, why he should want to tell her about the entrance to the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack, but before she could think further about the matter, James, Peter, and Remus arrived with large tankards of hot Butterbeer and she got distracted by the merry chatting around her.

When they finally left the inn to head back for the castle, darkness had already closed in upon the ancient wizarding town, and many soft glowing candles had been lit in the street lamps that lined the narrow uneven streets. The snow was falling at a heavy rate now and their footsteps were deadened by the thick fluffy whiteness. Everything seemed to be reduced to a soft blurry white. It was an enchanted, dreamy atmosphere.

“.. and since there’s no place to go …” Lily hummed happily, “ – let it snow,-  let it snow, - let it snow ...”

Hermione, who walked between Sirius and Remus, quickly hid her hands in the pockets of her cloak. Just in case Sirius might get any ideas at the sight of James, who took Lily’s hand in the dark.

A/N: I guess, all questions about Sirius might be answered by this.

Thank you for all the encouragement. I hope you liked this chapter, too. I promise, to update as soon as possible.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

The cloak's silky material floated around as it hid the lean dark-haired boy and the redhead beside him, who sneaked on tiptoes through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts. But a sudden noise made them stop in their tracks.

They held their breath as a door next to them creaked open and a sharp, well known, voice cut the silence. “Who's there?!”

Stifling a fit of giggles they watched as their least favourite teacher glanced around in confusion. They were completely invisible – they were sure about that. The cloak had never failed in its task to hide its owner, and this was certainly no exception.

After a few seconds, the teacher's eyes wandered off along the dark corridor and the ‘Invisibles’ silently continued on their way ....

OO

Severus Snape was sure he had heard a noise.

He stepped out of his office ready to catch the rule-breaking troublemakers. It was dark in the corridor. The raw stone walls were only lit by a few flickering torches, the rare patches of light faded into the dark shadows in the many windings and forks. The large stone plates – polished by countless feet over the centuries – were constantly, restlessly shifting between light and darkness. But there was – no one – at all.

He was just about to close the door again, when a sudden mewing at his feet caught his attention. “Why, hello,” he smiled, “So, it was you before ... I guess you're hungry again, mhmm? Well then,” he opened the door a little wider, “you'd better come in and we'll see what can be done about that.”

The large ginger tomcat did not need any further invitation and slipped into the room. Its yellow eyes fixed on the tall, black-robed man, who walked over to a high, dark, wooden cupboard. Bits of delicious smelling stuff were placed in one of the many shallow glass dishes  piled next to some bottles and flasks containing a variety of coloured liquids.

“Here you are,” Severus said, as he smiled, and set the dish on the floor. “You may wonder why I brought these bits of salmon from this evening's dinner – I was sure you'd decide to visit me again. After all, you've been sneaking around the dungeons quite a bit lately, haven't you?” His lips twitched at the sight of the cobwebs and dust that covered the fluffy cat’s ginger fur. “Well -obviously. Enjoy your meal, 'Nosy’. And afterwards you'd better make sure, you get yourself cleaned up a little, if you're planning to sleep in my bed again.”

OO  

The two boys sat slouching in their chairs in a small corner of the crowded Gryffindor common room, looking quite depressed.

“I just can't think of where else we could search for him,” Ron sighed mournfully.

Harry shook his head. “Neither can I,” he sighed. “Ron, she'll be devastated when she comes home and finds out he's missing.”

“If – she comes home, you should say,” Ron frowned, “if she – ever – comes back to us at all.”

Harry's head snapped up at that. “Don't say things like that, Ron!”

“Well, you heard Dumbledore, Harry, didn't you?” his friend remarked earnestly. “It's a terribly serious situation to be lost in time like that ...and ...”

“Yes,” Harry began, reluctantly, “I know, Ron, but –”

“She's been missing for more than three weeks now, Harry,” Ron told him quite harshly. “And I fear,” he lowered his gaze, swallowed and looked back at his friend again. “I fear if she hasn't been able to find a way back by now, she may never be able to.”

           OO            

In one quick, fluid, movement the dark-haired boy pulled the cloak off and two dishevelled heads appeared in the midst of what they thought to be an empty common room.

Hermione, who had been reading in an armchair by the fireplace, looked up from the copy of 'Hogwarts – A History' in her lap and stared at her friends in disbelief. “Lily,” she gasped, “There you are! I was really starting to wonder where you were.”

“Oh,” Lily blushed, “James and I .. we ... We just sneaked down to – towards the kitchens to .. get some things for tomorrow evening, you know?”

Hermione smiled. Since James had held Lily's hand in the dark three days ago one was rarely seen without the other. “Oh, I see- our private Christmas party.” Hermione grinned, “Nice cloak James,” she added dryly.

After he had recovered from shock that the common room was not deserted, as he had supposed it to be, James broadly grinned back at her. “I have to say, you could at least sound the slightest bit impressed, Géraldine,” he mocked, “Really. Lily almost lost her mind about this – whereas you… Are those cloaks common school attire at Beauxbatons, or are you just hard to impress?” k

Hermione's grin widened. “No about the former – and an 'I don't know' about the latter. I've seen a cloak like that once before,” she explained.

“Ohh –” He sounded quite surprised by that.

Hermione could not help but laugh. “Don't tell me, you want to show off,” she teased, “I would've guessed you'd want to keep a cloak like that a secret.”

“Well, normally, that's right, but you've seen it now anyway,” James grinned “and, if I'm not mistaken, our dearest Lily here would have told you soon nonetheless.”

“What makes you think she would have told me?”

“Oh,” he grinned again, “she has been so excited about it.”

'Well, that's most likely not because of the cloak,' Hermione thought, grinning. 'You could probably have even been excited about being hidden beneath a handkerchief as long as you got to sneak around close to each other ..’

“Oh yes, just think, Géraldine, we've been completely invisible,” Lily beamed. “We could see each other under the cloak, but if we looked down at the outside, there was nothing at all. It has been so odd! You can't even imagine it, Géraldine. One time, the cloak got a little out of place and I caught a short glimpse at my feet wandering around.”

She giggled. “Just the feet, Géraldine, isn't that incredible?! And then, suddenly, the old Figg came out of her office… Must have heard some noise – I suppose. But she didn't see us. Isn't that funny? We have to borrow the cloak from James sometimes. You can't even imagine how cool it is!”

Hermione smiled. If they only knew –

“Oh yes that's a wonderful idea,” she agreed, then looked at James. “Where did you get it, anyway?”

“My parents sent it to me as a Christmas present three years ago, he explained. “It's pretty useful I can tell you. Sirius, Peter and Remus know of it as well, but apart from them – no one. Please don't tell anyone else, Géraldine, will you?”

“No, no. I won't. Don't worry.” She glanced around the room in sudden confusion. “By the way, where are those guys?”

She knew Remus was with his Grandma and would not get back until the next day but, for some reason, Peter and Sirius were missing as well. “Haven't they been with you?”

“Well, obviously not,” James grinned, “How many people do you expect to fit under one cloak, Géraldine?”

“But, if they're not with you, where are they?” she wondered aloud.

“No idea,” he shrugged, “I thought they might be up here.”

“No,” Hermione told him, “I haven't seen them all evening. Do you think they are preparing something for tomorrow night, too?”

“Mhmm, probably – don't worry about them, Géraldine. Or is it just Sirius, you're missing? Ouch –” Lily had nudged him in the ribs for that comment.

Hermione pulled a face on him. “Serves you right.”

James chuckled. “What do you think, Lil’ shall we play a game of chess? Or –”

“Or?” she giggled, “can't you think of anything better?”

He tilted his head as if in deep thoughts. “Mhmm, maybe we could read a good book,” he suggested, raising his eyebrows at her, “or catch up on homework – Ohch –” he gasped as Lily hit him in the head with a box of biscuits. “Ahh, I see, there's no homework on holidays, how could I forget about that – silly me –”

“Awrrr –” Lily dashed at him in mock anger, “Just wait, James Potter, I'll help you think!” With that she whipped out her wand and placed a Tickling Charm on him. James jumped with surprise and all the small packages, they had brought from the kitchens, spilled all over the floor as the large bag slipped from his hands. “Oh- Lil--hii-i,” he gasped. “Take that hex off me AT OnCe –”

“There,” she grinned, “now you've something to do.” But even before he could get rid of the hex, she had already knelt down and started to pick up the mess she had created. Still giggling she told him: “Don't you dare tease me like that ever again, James Potter!”

Hermione shook her head in amusement at the flirting couple as they collected the various packages from the floor. She would have helped them but, for some reason, she thought they might enjoy their task more if she did not. Still grinning, she turned towards the window and gazed out at the grounds.

She seemed to have been right as the giggling and teasing behind her faded surprisingly quick into silence after that. She was pretty sure that they were kneeling amid the mess of packages and parcels – kissing.

Still smiling, she settled herself onto the broad windowsill and contemplated the beautiful winter landscape. From Gryffindor Tower, she had a wonderful view of the vast school grounds right up to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Although it was already dark, she could recognise most things. It seemed quite odd – but that was probably just an effect of the silvery moonlight that reflected off the thick white blanket of snow. There were masses of it – snow – and moonlight. Everything seemed to be enchanted by the glittering whiteness. Most trees' branches were bent towards the ground by their heavy loads of snow and sparkling icicles. Hagrid's hut wore a white top too. Just around the chimney, where the snow had melted, a few shingles of the roof appeared. The frozen lake could hardly be discerned from its banks beneath the snow.

Hermione drew in a deep breath and sighed – what a beautiful Christmas Eve. She would not have been much surprised if she had suddenly spotted a reindeer and sleigh amid the whiteness. It seemed to be the perfect atmosphere. She was just about to turn back to her friends again, when her gaze fell onto a single line of footsteps that crossed the otherwise untouched blanket of snow. 'Well here's your reindeer,' she thought, but it was not.

As her eyes followed that line, she spotted someone in a black hooded cloak in the distance. The figure was too small to be Hagrid. But quite tall – and lean, still. It did not look much like how she had imagined 'Father Christmas' either. Whoever it was, crossed the front lawn in a hurry and headed straight towards the dark shape of the only tree that had been able to rid its twigs and branches of an unwanted burden of snow.

The Whomping Willow was almost completely free of it, looking as if it had shaken its twigs only moments before. Only the trunk seemed to be too rigid to do this, the raw uneven bark was covered in whiteness. At the moment, there was no movement in the thick branches but, when the dark figure approached it, the tree started twitching like a horse that nervously hit the ground, when it smelled something frightening but could not flee.

Only this tree was not frightened at all – it was a bitchy, ill-tempered 'wooden-beast' - that was perfectly capable of hurting people.

Hermione remembered the painful gash it had cut into her shoulder when, during her third year, she and Harry had tried to get into the secret passageway beneath its roots; following Ron and the large black dog that had been Sirius to the Shrieking Shack.

She still shivered at the memory of the fear she had felt, when she had first set eyes on Sirius Black in his human form in the Shrieking Shack that night.

It had been before they had found out about his innocence. Before they had discovered Ron's rat Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew, who had turned traitor on Lily and James – Before Snape had appeared at the scene to get them all into trouble, and they'd had no choice but to disarm him.

So he had missed the best part, as he had been knocked out. He had been so determined to get back at Sirius for the prank that Sirius had played on him back in their schooldays, when Sirius had told Snape how to get into the tunnel, and James had rescued him from Remus in his werewolf-shape at the last second ...

Hermione gasped with surprise – this was their schooldays and – All of a sudden everything made perfect sense. The tired way Remus had looked recently – his strange decision to visit his Grandma just for the day of Christmas Eve – Sirius' and Peter's absence – the odd brightness outside ...

A quick glance at the sky proved her theory. The round shape of the full moon hung above the castle ...

'Just wait, Snape,’ the teenage-Sirius' voice echoed in her mind, 'I'll get back at you for this - you'll see.’

With a sudden gasp, she slid off the windowsill and jumped to her feet. “Géraldine- what –” Lily gasped as her friend sprinted across common room.

“What's wrong?” James asked, confused.

“R-Remus –” Hermione stammered, “Remus, Sirius – t-the full moon – Snape – and you're not there!” And without any further explanation, she dashed out of the room.

OO

Hermione ran faster than she had ever before. This could not happen. It – must not happen! She practically flew down the steps rushing recklessly to the Entrance Hall. Her heart hammered in her chest and the blood pounded in her ears. If only she reached them in time ...

“Time,” she cursed, “damn, bloody – time –”

If she had not messed with things, Lily would have gone home for the holidays and James would not have been distracted by her presence. It was just her bloody fault that he was not in the place he needed to be right now…

Because of her, poor, kind, friendly Remus might turn into a murderer and Snape – She did not dare to think about the possible consequences. And all because of some stupid prank – from a mad schoolboy's grudge and – ridiculous jealousy.

Furiously she blinked the tears back that had crept into her eyes. This was not the time to cry – it was time to act…

With a loud clanging the heavy wooden door at the entrance slammed violently open as she passed through. She did not even bother to shut it, but hurried down the front steps, and sprinted across the wide moonlit plain.

Her feet sank, and she was buried to the middle of her shins in snow. It seemed to try and hold back every step she took. She panted from exertion as she attempted to move faster through the piles of snow. Small clouds of her own breath appeared in the icy air. Cold sweat crept down her forehead.

She would never ever reach them in time.

Her eyes searched for the dark-haired boy she had spotted from the window. He had almost reached the entrance to the tunnel, when a sudden movement by one of the willow's branches made him stop.

She hurried on, completely oblivious to the icy cold which surrounded her. She did not even notice she wore no cloak over her muggle clothing and little ice-balls formed on the hems of her trousers and socks. It simply did not matter at the moment. In the distance she could see Snape, who searched determinedly for a stick to press against the knot Sirius had told 'her' about in the Three Broomsticks a few days before.

“Oh please, don't let him find one under all that snow – ”  she pleaded.

But he did and, after a few seconds, he found the knot in the roots and pressed it. Immediately the heavy, violent branches came to rest. The Whomping Willow stood still as if it were just like every other tree. Snape threw the stick away and stepped forward.

“No!” Hermione yelled, and startled he whirled around.

She was close enough to discern the surprised expression on his face as he saw her. He had obviously expected to find her inside, with Sirius.

“Get back from there, Snape!” she yelled again and waved her arms in the air, still running as fast as she could. “Run! Run!!”

A low, dangerous growling interrupted her in mid sentence. Snape's eyes snapped back toward the Whomping Willow. Hermione dashed forward as fast as she could but knew she would arrive too late ...

Everything seemed to happen at once – The hideous growling grew louder, Snape finally stopped, staring at the hole between the roots in disbelief. But it was already too late – a large, dark-grey shape shot out of the hole – Hermione caught a glimpse of dangerously gleaming yellow eyes and razor-sharp fangs bared in preparation to attack – to kill.

Snape fearfully backed away but tripped over one of the roots hidden beneath the snow. He tried to stay on his feet, but stumbled backwards. If he fell and Remus got him ...

Brave-heartedly, Hermione jumped forward, threw her arms around his waist, and pulled him backwards out of the reach of those deadly fangs that snapped shut, but missed him by inches.

The werewolf, who had been in mid jump, stumbled over their bodies as they hit the icy ground. Hermione could feel his large paws trip over her back as they were buried under his heavy weight. Raw, shaggy fur brushed against her cheek and she closed her eyes – awaiting the unavoidable painful bite. They were lost – both of them ...

OO

At that moment James rushed down the marble staircase, a confused Lily at his heels.

“What's wrong, James?” she panted as she tried to keep up with him. “What did Géraldine mean by 'You're not there?' Isn't Remus with his Granny? And what's that about the moo–hoo –” she suddenly stumbled and grabbed the handrail, for support. “Oh James,” she pleaded, “wait for me. I can't keep up with you ... at this speed.”

But he did not stop. “I'm sorry Lil,” he panted and jumped down the last steps, into the Entrance Hall. “I can't - wait .. I .. I'll tell you later – I shouldn't have left him alone ...”

“Who?” Lily wondered, but James was already out of the castle. Confused and worried, she followed.

OO

Something hard hit Hermione's right side. Loud yelping noises and a gasp of pain from Snape, reached her ears as the next series of blows struck them. The wolf's weight was gone all of a sudden. He must have been catapulted out of their reach by those furiously striking branches.

The Whomping Willow had sprung into action again. Another growling sound was heard as a large black hound jumped out of the tunnel and dashed into the path of the wolf who had once again turned towards them.

Hermione had covered her head to protect it from being beaten by the branches, when two arms grabbed her. She and Snape rolled out of the Whomping Willow's reach in a tangled mess of arms and legs.

A few seconds passed as they simply lay in the cold snow, panting from shock, and unable to move. When they finally sat up, the wolf and hound had disappeared into the forest and everything around was silent again – except the excited squeaking of a large brown rat who followed his friends across the vast plain of snow.

Hermione looked at the black-haired boy next to her. Snape's black eyes stared at her in complete shock and disbelief. She noticed he was shaking all over. He opened his mouth, raised trembling fingertips to his face, froze, and then jumped to his feet running off without saying a single word.

But Hermione had already noticed the long, bleeding wound on his cheek ...

A/N: Lots of thanks for all encouragement and support.

Don’t be so mad at poor Siri. I’m quite sure he didn’t really mean to harm Severus. But just imagine: He doesn’t like him anyway and on top of it all they fancy the same girl now. That’s really bad.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Severus Snape woke with a start. Gasping for breath, he sat up in his large four-poster, his bare chest covered by a dainty film of sweat, his legs tightly wound in the bed sheets. A slight shiver ran over his body. Absentmindedly, he wrapped the covers around himself. It was cold in the dungeons. And he still felt horrified by the nightmare he had just escaped from.

It had been the very same, old, often repeating dream about the Werewolf. He had felt that same, unbearable fear. The same desperate, urgent need – to run – to get – away – out of his reach – in time. But he could not – get away. His feet were dragged back at every step he made – by the snow – and then – he had fallen – something many people experienced in their nightmares.

Only this was no mere dream. It was a memory. The embarrassing, loathed memory of James Potter saving his life. A dream that was haunting him for 20 years now. Ever since Black had played that nasty prank on him. It had been more or less intense, according to his current mood, but – it had always been the same dream.

But this time –

He shivered once more and dragged the covers tighter around himself. The more he tried to recall the dream's details, the faster the memory seemed to fade away, it was like trying to keep water in the cup of his hands. He could only guess, there must have been some twist in the way it had all happened.

It had – always – been James Potter, who had saved his life – but this time it had been different – this time he had clearly felt it to be – more than a simple dream – quite more ...

It had been winter – as always – Christmas Eve. He remembered the small clouds of his breath in the cold winter air – the snow's silent crunching noise at every step he made – the odd brightness of the moonlight.

As always he had heard someone calling – Calling out a name – His name. But this time – it had been a female voice – And suddenly, he knew –

It had been the Granger girl's voice! Hermione's – he concluded, startled. He was sure about that. She had come to save him.

Of course, she had known about the incident since her third year. And she had risked her life to rescue him – he could hardly believe it himself. A pang of guilt hit him. What if she was bitten because of him? He remembered a fight with the werewolf and – some pain.

That was something else that had been special about this dream. This time, there had been a sharp, burning pain on his right cheek – and blood – oh gods! Did that mean…

In a desperate gesture he run his fingers through his hair, pressed them to his temples and cupped his face in his hands.

He froze in mid movement.

There was something at his right temple, very close to the hairline, that had not been there before. It felt strange, somehow like –

He jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to have a look into the old, ebony framed mirror. Dark eyes stared back at him out of his pale scared face as he pushed his long, black hair aside.

OO

Hermione lay back into the snow. Trembling from cold, fear and exhaustion, she stared at the night sky. There was an odd burning sensation in her eyes. How could she not have noticed the large round shape of the full moon sooner? It was certainly big enough. Its soft, misty halo seemed to be growing wider and wider.

She pinched her eyes shut for a few seconds. Something warm and wet crept down her temples and the moon came into focus again. How could she have been so unbelievably stupid? She had ignored all the signs. It had been so obvious. She had certainly messed things up. Badly.

Because of her, Lily had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays. Because of Lily, James had not been with his friends this evening and Snape had almost died – maybe he had been bitten, she was not sure. She remembered the terrified look in his eyes, when he had noticed the long, bleeding scratch on his cheek. Or would he have been scratched anyway? She was not sure. Nothing had been said about it in her third year. Was the scratch of a Werewolf as contagious as his bite?

It probably was not, but she was not sure, she had to look it up at the library. But had it been a scratch at all? She swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat and hit the ground with her fists in a furious movement. 'Damn!'

There was not a single cloud in the sky, she noticed. The velvety black expanse was sprinkled with bright glittering stars. Their sharp silhouettes became blurred, as the moon had before. Again she closed her eyes and once more some warm liquid tickled down her temples and fell into her hair. It was only then, she noticed she was crying.

“Géraldine,” someone called in the distance and she slowly opened her eyes again and sat up, trembling and unsteady. There was blood in the snow. It must be Snape's, she decided. For all she knew, she was not bleeding anywhere, though her right side hurt badly from the heavy blows of the willow's furious branches. If Snape had not dragged her out of their reach with him...

She cupped her face in her hands. Her head ached too. “Géraldine!” a familiar voice called. She looked up. – Harry –

‘No,’ she told herself, ‘James.’ When she turned her head in the direction of the castle, she saw him sprinting across the vast moonlit plain. He was closely followed by a smaller figure with wavy dark red hair. Lily.

“I'm here!” Hermione called and tried to get to her feet. A sharp pain in her left ankle made her sink back into the snow. “Ouch – ”

The next moment James was at her side. “Géraldine,” he panted and dropped to his knees into the snow next to her. “Are you – all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine,” she assured him quickly. Icy clouds hung in the air between them when they spoke. “I didn't get bitten. And Snape pulled me out of the willow's reach –”

“Snape?!” he gasped and looked around in wonder. “I don't see him anywhere. Is he all right?”

“He, ran off, he,” Hermione started, but hesitated. For some reason she did not want to tell him about the scratch. It did not seem right. Just then Lily arrived and dropped to her knees on the other side of Hermione.

“Géraldine!?”

James pulled his jumper over his head and handed it to Hermione. “Don't worry, Lily, she's fine,” he told his shocked and bewildered girlfriend.

“But James,” Lily complained worriedly, “you can't go without your jumper. You'll freeze to death.”

“I won't need it,” he told her. Urgently he continued, “Come on, hurry, Lily! Get her back inside will you?” James asked. “I need to look for the others.”

She nodded. “Yes, James.”

“Come on, Géraldine,” she addressed Hermione softly, “It's all right now, we'll go back to the common room. You need to get warm again. Come.”

She placed an arm around Hermione and supported her carefully, so she would not put too much weight on the hurt ankle.

Hermione just nodded and let Lily lead her away. When she turned her head over her shoulder, at the front doors, she caught a short glimpse of a large, dark-brown stag, galloping towards the forest. His coat was such deep brown, it was almost black and his horns were large and impressive. Snow whirled up in small clouds behind him. He almost flew across the moonlit plain and disappeared between the dark trunks. The sound of his galloping hooves echoed across the frozen ground before fading into the distance.

OO

Severus Snape stared into his own pale frightened face looking out of the dark-framed mirror. There was blood. Quite a lot of it. The handkerchief he had pressed to the wound was soaked with blood now, stained beyond salvaging. Hastily, he pushed his hair away from his face to look at his cheek.

He could not go to the infirmary, could he? If he had really been bitten, he did not want anyone to know. There was no cure anyway. With trembling fingers he opened the hot water-tap and started to clean the wound.

It began bleeding even more as he cleansed it. The water vapour clouded the mirror and he started to frantically rub it clean with his blood smeared hands. He felt the panic rise in his chest. He needed to see the wound clearly. If it was a bite – He forced back the sob that had formed in his throat.

He felt so scared.

He splashed some hot water at the blood-smeared glass and stared desperately into the mirror. ‘It's probably just a cut from the tree’ he told himself over and over again. ‘It's just a single scratch – If it had been one of the Werewolf's paws, there would probably be more than one – There would be at least two or three parallels tot i this scratch – and it's certainly no bite – It couldn’t be a bite? Oh please, don't le t be a bite!’

When he was sure the scratch was clean enough, he pointed his wand to the wound and looked determinedly into the mirror.

“Medico.” The tip of his wand started to glow with a soft, bluish light and a fine ringing filled the air.

“Sisto sanguinem,” he muttered and tiny golden sparks dizzied down into the cut, slowing the bleeding down, until it finally came to rest.

“Coalesco vulnerem.” This time golden and green sparks caused the wound's opposite edges to contract towards each other.

“Purgo guttae.” Soft shining, silvery bubbles appeared and cleansed his face and hair of all the spilled blood. He repeated the spell at the mirror, and the water basin, before he sat down on the floor and buried his head in his hands.

OO

Wrapped in as many blankets as they could find, Hermione sat in an armchair by the fireplace and stared into the flames. Lily had performed a Healing Charm on her ankle and made some hot chocolate. They each held a steaming mug in their hands

“Géraldine?” Lily asked softly, “Are you sure you're all right? Hadn't we better go to the hospital wing?”

“No.” Hermione shook her head. “It would get the boys into major trouble. All of them, believe me.”

“Whatever you want, Géraldine.” Lily nodded. “But how on earth did you know?”

Hermione closed her eyes. That was the one question she had dreaded all the time. “Don't ask me about this, Lily,” she whispered pleadingly, “not right now.”

“OK,” Lily promised. “But Géraldine?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think they are all right?” she asked fearfully.

At that, Snape's dark, frightened eyes appeared in Hermione's mind. And the bleeding scratch on his cheek. “I don't know,” she muttered desperately. She felt the tears well up in her eyes again.

They were interrupted by a sudden noise from the stairs to the girl's dorms. Miss Grey, Lily's huge lean dark-grey cat, had obviously decided to search for them. Her orange eyes flickered briefly from one girl to the other, before she leaped gracefully into Hermione's lap.

Hermione appreciated the comfort. Whenever she had missed Crookshanks during the last few weeks, she had cuddled Miss Grey instead.

Lily smiled, “Yes that's right, Missy. Géraldine has been through a lot tonight. Keep her company.”

They did not talk much after that. Hermione simply stared into the fire and Lily watched her with frightened eyes.

OO

They must have dozed off, Hermione decided, as the painting's sudden creaking woke them at the break of dawn. They could hear James' angry voice and Sirius' half-muttered answer. Only moments later the four boys climbed through the portrait hole.

“James!” Lily gasped and hurried towards him. “Are you all right?”

He hugged her briefly. “Yes, Lily, I'm fine. Don't worry.”

His eyes clouded with anger as he looked at Sirius. “But it's certainly not thanks to this idiot here.”

Lily looked quite confused about that. “What did he do?”

No one answered her question. Peter didn't say a single word at all, but looked scared and Remus' eyes were all red and puffy, as if he had been crying a long time. He was terribly pale and stared at the floor.

Sirius did not complain in the slightest about the insult. He held his head bowed and did not say a word. As soon as he caught sight of Géraldine, he hurried towards her. “Géraldine!” His voice was full of concern.

He kneeled down in front of her armchair and took both of her hands in his. “Géraldine, are you - all right? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean .. I ..”

“Stop babbling like that you bloody idiot!” James flew at him. “She's fine,” he added more calmly at Lily's shocked gasp.

Sirius frowned and looked up at his friend. “So you knew?!”

“Yes,” James glared at him, “I checked on her before I followed you.”

Sirius' eyes narrowed into small slits at that. “You knew it all the time and didn't tell me?” he growled.

“That's right,” James assured him acidly.

“Why not, you knew how worried I was about her?”

“You deserved it,” James snapped at him. “You put her and Snape in mortal peril, you stupid git. It's a wonder none of them got bitten. I don't know what's been going on in that thick skull of yours!”

Sirius did not respond to this. “Géraldine,” he muttered, “Please – I didn't know you would go down there, I swear it – That's not what I intended –”

“But Snape should be there, right?” Hermione glared at him. “You told him exactly how to get into the tunnel, and made sure he would try it tonight! What the hell were you thinking Sirius?!”

“Don't be mad with me, Géraldine,” he pleaded, “I …”

“I am mad!” she snapped. “I'm extremely mad! Your stupid prank nearly killed him, Sirius!!” She jumped to her feet in anger.

A dry sob from across the room made her look up. Remus tried to slip silently out of the room.

“Remus,” Hermione called softy and he flinched at her voice, “wait –”

He stopped at the foot of the stairs to the boys' dorms. Hermione noticed he was not able to look at her. On an impulse, she went over towards him and hugged him tightly. He almost started crying again at that and closed his arms hesitantly around her.

“It wasn't your fault, Remus,” she told him softly. “I know, you didn't mean to harm me, or Snape –”

“But I almost did,” he croaked out miserably. “I almost bit you... I might have killed you, Géraldine –”

“But you didn't, Remus – I'm fine. Really.”

“What about Snape?”

Hermione hesitated, this was hardly the time for any speculations. Slowly she leaned back to look at him. “I think he's fine, too,” she told him softly.

Remus seemed to relax a little, but he was still very upset. “I nearly killed you,” he repeated desperately. He stifled a sob, but could not help the tears that ran down his pale cheeks. “I'm a bloody monster. That's what I am. I should be locked away.”

Hermione grabbed him firmly by the shoulders at that. “No, you're not! – Remus – look at me,” she commanded and he timidly raised his head. His soft, hazel eyes were filled with a terrible pain.

“You're no monster,” Hermione told him gently. “You're the best, dearest friend anyone could imagine. Don't ever doubt that.”

He silently gazed into her eyes for a few seconds, then nodded slightly. In an awkward movement, he rubbed his eyes with his hand.

Hermione smiled. “Hey, don't cry anymore, will you? It's Christmas.”

He smiled miserably. “Well, Merry Christmas to you then, Géraldine.”

“Merry Christmas, Remus.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Maybe you'll get a box of dog biscuits, who knows ...”

He could not help but chuckle at that. “I wouldn't have any good use for them until the next full moon. I'm sorry.”

She softly patted his arm at that. “I'd save them for you. And hey, we could always feed them to Sirius, in case you're not interested.”

He grinned. “You're incredible, Géraldine, honestly.”

OO  

Reluctantly, Severus Snape got to his feet. He could not risk staying in this bathroom any longer. It was not safe. If Filch caught him, he would have a lot of explaining to do. And Filch was the least of his problems.

If McGonagall found him out of bed at this hour he would be in major trouble. A detention would be guaranteed. If not worse. He was not supposed to be out of his house at night. And how on earth could he explain the still visible wound on his cheek? Not to speak of the barely dried blood that had soaked into his robes. He could not remember the charm to clean the cloth, he was not half as good at Charms as he was at Potions.

He had been able to close the wound and stop the bleeding, but it would have to heal by itself. And it would most certainly leave a scar. Maybe, he could say, Nossy had scratched him. Poor Nossy, he would never do that.

Severus clenched his fists in anger as he hurried along the dimly lit corridors. And all because of that insufferable Black. He must have known about the Werewolf, he was sure about that. Black had lured him out on purpose. And he had been stupid enough to go out there.

He felt a nasty pang of guilt at the thought that he had left the Henshler-girl out there. After all, she had saved his life. There was no doubt about that. But he had heard Potter calling for her in the distance and known he would search for her. And he had been so scared.

Reluctantly, he approached the nearest window and looked out at the grounds. He could not spot anyone at all. It must be around midnight by now. It would certainly make no sense to go back outside now, would it? She was most likely back in her Gryffindor Tower with her friends.

But the nagging feeling of guilt and – worry – did not leave him. Carefully he peered around a corner, before he crossed the Entrance Hall and slipped silently into the dungeons' darkness.

When he finally reached his dormitory, he went straight to his bed and pulled the curtains shut. He did not make any light, nor did he take his robes off. He could not risk waking Lucius, who would probably ask a lot of unpleasant questions. He must not know about what had happened. No one must know.

A new wave of panic rose in his chest. 'If he were really to become a Werewolf now ... ' he pressed his fists to his eyes. He would not cry, he could not – he told himself, as he curled up beneath the blankets.

But the tight feeling of fear in his chest simply would not go away. Nor would the odd prickling of tears in his eyes. Frantically he forced back the sob, that filled his throat all of a sudden. The last thing he wanted, was to wake Lucius Malfoy by the noise of his sobs.

He felt so damn lonely and scared right now.

Warm, silky fur brushed along his hand. “Oh Nossy,” he whispered desperately and hugged his tomcat tightly. The loyal familiar did not complain at the rough unwelcome treatment. And, with Nossy's help, Severus was able to finally fall asleep despite the terrible burden resting on his shoulders.

OO

Twenty years later Severus Snape examined his right cheek carefully in the mirror. There it was – a very thin, long scar close to the hairline – certainly no bite – and probably – no paw-scratch either. He released the breath he had been holding.

A mewing at his feet drew his attention to his ginger-furred friend. “Oh, Nosy,” he sighed with relief. “I think I've been lucky – for once in my life. And it's all thanks to your mistress. She saved me, did you know that?”

The tomcat fixed his eyes on him as if he did, and mewed again. On an impulse, Severus picked him up and leaned his cheek at the fluffy, ginger fur. “You remind me so much of my Nossy, Nosy,” he told him softly. “I'm glad you're here.”

OO

The Gryffindors slept in the next day. Hermione awoke to the sound of an owl's beak tapping at the window. In the other bed, Lily's head appeared out of a mess of pillows and blankets.

“Merry Christmas Géraldine!” she smiled and got up to let the bird inside. The tawny owl fluttered onto the back of a chair and Lily untied the note from its leg. “It's from Frank,” she told her over her shoulder. “He wishes all of us a Merry Christmas.”

Hermione shook off the last vestiges of sleep and noticed the pile of parcels at the foot of Lily's bed. She forced back the feeling of sorrow that hit her at the thought that under the present circumstances her parents would hardly be able to send a letter, or presents, to her. “Merry Christmas Lily!”

She suddenly flinched at a sharp pain in her right side. “Ouch- damn willow.”

A knock at the door made them jump with surprise. The next second James' head appeared in the doorway and Lily, who was standing in the middle of the room in her long pink night-gown, blushed furiously.

“Hey, Merry Christmas to you Lily – Géraldine ...” He stopped in surprise “Hey, what's that, you're still in bed? Get up lazy lassies,” he grinned. “And hurry. We've been waiting for you down in the common room for ages!”

The girls did not take time to get dressed first. They simply slipped into their dressing-gowns and hurried down the spiral staircase.

The 'ages' turned out to be no more than a few minutes. All four boys were still in their dressing-gowns too. Nonetheless, they had managed to arrange some biscuits and glasses of pumpkin juice and a coloured pile of parcels and packages at the small table in front of the fireplace. A small Christmas tree was placed beside the merrily flickering fire.

“Where did you get that tree?” Lily asked, confused. “Don't tell me you brought it back from last night's adventure?”

“Hardly,” James smiled, “we were a little ew, distracted, then.”

“It actually is a pile of pine-wood chairs from our dormitory,” Peter explained proudly. “We just transfigured them into a tree.”

“Wow, good job,” Lily complemented them.

They all settled onto the thick, fluffy carpet around the 'tree' and started to exchange their packages and parcels.

James' gift for Lily was a fragile golden chain with a tiny golden Snitch on it.

“I might be playing Chaser, but as you used to say that I'm flying 'even faster than the Snitch', I thought you might like this.”

He leaned forward to close the clasp at Lily’s neck and Hermione, who sat close to them, heard him whisper into her ear. “And you know, the Snitch is the most important part of the game, as you are to me.” Lily blushed bright red and kissed him.

James examined the broom-care-set they had brought at Hogsmeade, with great enthusiasm. Hermione had included a few additions to the original set.

From Peter she got a large box of sweets. She discovered Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, some Sugar Quills, Ice Mice and Sherbet Lemons.

“Oh - 'Sweets for my sweet, sugar for my honey' .." Sirius, James and Remus teased in chorus and poor Peter blushed furiously.

“Don't mind them, Pete,” Hermione told him sympathetically and handed him his present, which turned out to be a beautiful illustrated Herbology book with many moving pictures that showed how to treat the various plants.

Peter beamed across his whole round face at that gift. “Outta sight, thank you, Géraldine!” he gasped excitedly in his unsteady, always a little squeaky, voice. “That's splendid. It's my favourite subject!”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Merry Christmas, Peter. Thank you for the candy.”

When James started to make another comment, Lily nudged him into the ribs and turned towards her friend. “This is my present for you,” she smiled and handed Hermione a small package. It was an emerald-green ink bottle.

“That's no ordinary ink,” Lily told her, “I've enchanted it so that it'll change its colour with your moods. Thank you for being my friend, Géraldine. I hope for many more Christmases to celebrate with you.”

Hermione had to swallow at the thought of how few such occasions life would leave to her.

“I'll always be your friend Lily, no matter what happens,” she croaked out and hugged her tightly.

Lily looked at her in surprise, but said nothing.

“Here, this is for you,” Hermione told her, determined not to be miserable. She had discovered a hologram with a red lily inside in a small shop at Hogsmeade. It was round and plain and some tiny bubbles were enclosed in the slightly greenish glass.

“Oh, a paper-weight. That's beautiful,” Lily laughed, “thank you, Géraldine!”

“Wow, Flower-Power!” James teased, but Lily pulled a face at him.

“Flower-Power isn't in anymore, silly.”

From James, Hermione got a small, leather-bound diary. “You can write in it with Lily's enchanted ink,” he grinned.

“And you can use this quill for that,” Remus told her shyly as he passed her a pretty, light-brown feather quill.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, when she gave him her present. Given the recent developments, she wasn't sure if 'Dracula' was a really lucky choice. She had ordered the book by owl post some time ago because she had supposed it to be a nice idea for him with his interest in DADA.

Hermione noticed Remus was still pale, but the few hours of sleep had been certainly helpful. “Thank you, Géraldine,” he smiled shyly, and impulsively she hugged him again. “Merry Christmas again, Remus,” she told him.

“No dog biscuits, then?” he grinned and she giggled.

“No, I'm sorry. But I'll get you some, if you insist on it.”

“Look at them,” Sirius mocked. “It's just a pity, Géraldine is no 'Little Red Riding Hood', like our Lily. They would have been the perfect match.”

Remus blushed at that and hastily let go of Hermione.

James shot his friend a dark scowl. “You had better shut up, Sirius, before you make a complete fool out of yourself.”

Sirius scowled back at his friend and turned towards Hermione. He suddenly looked a little worried. “Em, Géraldine,” he began almost shyly, “I know you're mad at me, but –” 

“Merry Christmas Sirius,” she smiled at him and handed him his package. It was another hologram, with a castle in a winter landscape – soft fluffy snow came down on the castle, whenever one shook the little half-ball.

“But that's Hogwarts,” Sirius grinned.

“Em, yes, I put a spell onto it,” Hermione explained. “I transfigured it to look like Hogwarts and enchanted it to change with the seasons. It will probably rain in there in a few weeks.”

Sirius looked up at her. “Cool idea, Géraldine. Honestly,” he smiled. “Do you want to see what I have for you?” he asked a little insecurely.

“Em, yes,” she nodded. “That would be nice.”

He took a little red box out of the pocket of his dressing-gown. Hermione shot a nervous look at it.

“It's not much,” Sirius muttered, “but I saw them and I thought, you might like them.”

'It' turned out to be a pair of very small, amber earrings in the shape of little drops.

“There's a Good Luck Charm on them,” Sirius told her softly. “It will keep misfortunes and tears away from the one who wears them.”

“Oh,” Hermione smiled, “they are beautiful. Thank you Sirius.”

They hugged briefly and Lily wiped the smug look off of James' face with another nudge in the ribs. “Ouch– If you don't change that habit, I'll soon be covered in bruises,” he complained, grinning.

“Don't worry, they'll be restricted to the ribcage,” Sirius mocked.

Hermione picked up her new diary. “I want all of you to make a short entry at the first page,” she told them. Peter and Remus asked her to sign their books for them in return.

When she got her diary back, she found Lily's neat handwriting and everyone's signatures on the first page.

May every entry made in this diary be a happy one.

To Géraldine, from her friends:

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Peter Pettigrew

James Potter

and Lily Evans.

Christmas 1977 - Hogwarts Castle - School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hermione swallowed and clapped the little book shut. ‘What would Harry give for a note like this?’ she wondered.

She suddenly noticed, the others were whispering to each other. “She didn't get any presents apart from ours,” Peter remarked in a hushed voice. “What about her parents? Or other relatives? Or her friends?”

“I don't know,” Lily whispered back. “She doesn't speak about her past.”

“Lily, did she tell you anything about how she knew, about last night?” James whispered.

“No.”

“Let's ask her.” Peter suggested.

“No!” Lily shook her head at him. But James had already asked the question aloud.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, em, I just knew,” she muttered.

“What do you mean by ‘you knew?’” Sirius asked, stunned.

“Well, sometimes, I – know – of things, before they actually happen,” she muttered uneasily.

Lily's eyes grew wide at that. “Oh - you mean - You're a seer?!”

“Ummm, in, er a way ..” Hermione agreed helplessly.

‘Honestly,’ she thought, ‘if Harry and Ron ever found out they'd teasing me till the end of time about it. Me, a seer, Professor Trelawney would be thrilled.’

“Oh that's amazing, Géraldine,” Lily gasped. “It's really rare and special!”

“Hey, you could fill in for the new Divinations teacher,” Remus suggested, “in case Dumbledore fires her.”

“He certainly should,” Sirius scowled.

“Do you really think she will have graduated by then? It's still a whole semester to go.” Peter mocked.

At Hermione's surprised look, Lily explained: “Sybill Trelawney. You don't know her, she never comes down to the Great Hall for meals. She always locks herself in her strange tower.

She started teaching this year. Our old Divination teacher, Professor Omens was quite nice, but he retired at the end of last year.”

“The stupid ‘insect’ should follow his example,” Sirius grumbled and Lily giggled.

“He's just annoyed, cause she predicted he would become a mad murderer, who'll end up in Azkaban. Poor Siri –”

“O-oh –” was all, Hermione could manage at that news.

“You wouldn't like it either, if she said things like that about you, Lily,” Sirius complained.

“Oh and you think, predicting my death the first day in class was any better, do you?”

“She did what?!” Hermione gasped with shock. But Lily just patted her arm. “Don't worry about that Géraldine,” she told her grinning, “she does things like that all the time.”

“Yeah,” James injected, “she has predicted my death as well, don't you remember, Lil?”

“Yes,” Peter laughed. "Didn't she say something about a Halloween's Eve?”

“Oh please, couldn't we just drop this topic?” Hermione asked desperately.

Sirius took the opportunity to place an arm around her. “Don't worry about that rubbish, Géraldine,” he told her softly. “The stupid Trelawney is out of her right mind if you ask me. I don't give a damn about her predictions. It's a pity you and Remus didn't take Divination, too. We're always having great fun at it.”

OO

The Great Hall was a beautiful sight. The decorations were displayed in a harmonious combination of red, green and gold. Even the white candles that were usually floating in mid air had been replaced by red and green ones. Twelve large Christmas trees were decorated in glittering golden stars and everlasting icicles.

Matching the weather outside, fluffy white snow floated steadily down from the enchanted ceiling, without actually reaching the floor.

The staff table had been laid for all those who remained for Christmas Lunch. Scarlet red serviettes were neatly folded beside each golden plate on the dark-green tablecloth. A beautiful garland of mistletoe, holly, and moss was draped across the table. Matching wreaths decorated the impressive, dark wood doors at the entrance.

All in all, they were 26. To no one’s surprise, Professor Trelawney had refused to join them for fear of distracting her ‘inner eye’ and Argus Filch had left to visit his sister at Hogsmeade for Christmas Day.

Of the teachers no one other than the Heads of House had stayed for the holidays. The Professors McGonagall and Figg sat on both sides of Dumbledore, whereas the Professors Sprout and Flitwick where seated at opposite ends of the table. Hagrid sat opposite Dumbledore and next to him sat the librarian, Madam Pince, and Madam Pomfrey, the witch from the medical ward.

The remaining students were spread between them.

There were no other Gryffindors except the marauders, Lily and Hermione, and Malfoy and Snape were the only other students in their year.

Besides them there were three younger Slytherins. Two first- and three sixth-year Hufflepuffs, and two fourth-year Ravenclaws completed the table.

Lily chatted 'charmingly' with tiny, little Professor Flitwick, who was delighted to have a happy conversation with his favourite student. James hung on her every word and Sirius and Remus were seated on either side of Hermione. Poor Peter had ended up next to Professor McGonagall and with Sirius incessantly talking to Hermione, he had no other person to talk to, except his stern Head of House.

While Sirius talked to her the whole time, Hermione noticed that Remus hardly looked at her. He stared at his plate and did not talk. When she asked him to pass her the apple-sauce their fingertips touched and he blushed furiously and nearly dropped the dish.

During the whole meal, she watched Snape carefully. He had dragged his hair into his face and was looking pale and unhappy. He responded half-heartedly to Malfoy's questions until he finally gave up on him.

Hermione noticed Snape did not eat much, but hid some bits of turkey in a small box which he slipped into the pocket of his robes. She smiled. This was most likely going to be Nossy's Christmas Dinner.

Snape looked rather miserable and Hermione realized, with surprise, that she was actually worried about him. Once more, she wondered if he might have been bitten. She would not have any peace until she knew. She had to talk to him. Maybe she could catch him somewhere in the corridors outside, after lunch.

OO

When – almost an hour later – they finally left the table, she tried to talk Lily and the boys into leaving her for a private conversation with McGonagall.

In Sirius’ case, especially, it was hard work. By the time she had finally convinced him, Snape had already left the Great Hall. Cursing under her breath Hermione hurried along the corridors in the vague hope of finding him in the library.

She often went there when she felt unhappy. It was the best place, if one wanted to be left alone. And as she had seen him there every morning, ever since she had landed in this time, there might actually be a good chance of finding him there now.

She had barely reached the library entrance, when a dark shape appeared out of a narrow nook to her right.

“Henshler?” That was obviously Snape's voice.

She flinched with surprise and he smirked at her. But even his trademark sneer turned out quite miserably today.

“What do you want, Snape?” Hermione asked, nervously glancing along the deserted corridor.

“No need to look around, Henshler. There's no one up here. We're all alone. Don't worry, I won't bite you,” he mocked, but failed once more.

“So, what is it?” Hermione asked tensely.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right,” Snape muttered, barely audible. “I was worried you might have been bitten,” he looked quite uncomfortable at that statement and Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She had never expected to hear words of concern out of Snape's mouth.

When she did not respond, his face darkened. “He didn't bite you, did he?” he asked nervously.

“No, no –” she responded hastily, “He didn't.” She could have sworn, his features relaxed at that.

“How about you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“Well, are you, you know, all right?”

He stared at her. “Yes. Yes, of course I am,” he responded rather harshly.

“What about your cheek?” Hermione inquired carefully. 

“What about it?” he snapped.

“Don't act like I'm stupid,” Hermione frowned. “I saw the scratch on your cheek. It was bleeding recently. So where's it from?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and exposed the barely healing wound to her. Hermione gasped at the sight of it. “Haven't you seen Madam Pomfrey about it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because – I –” he began, but trailed off and glared at her. “That's none of your business, Henshler!”

“Whose bloody business do you think it is, Snape?” Hermione glared back.

He hesitated. His dark eyes flickered briefly across her face, before he looked away. “I, I wanted to thank you,” he muttered, barely audibly.

Hermione looked up in surprise at that. He had bowed his head and stared at the floor. “I would be probably dead, if it weren't for you …”

Hermione blinked at that. “There's no need to thank me,” she croaked out a little hoarsely. “You made it up to me, when you pulled me out of the willow’s reach.”

“You wouldn't have been there, without me, would you?” he muttered. “Did you really come down there because of me?”

The stunned tone of disbelief in his voice made her feel strangely sad. It sounded as if somehow he didn't think anyone cared a damn about his life. “Yes,” Hermione cleared her throat, “ Yes, I did.”

“Oh,” he sounded confused, “but then, why –”

“Let me see your cheek,” Hermione interrupted, before he could press that matter any further.

He looked up at her and for a brief moment, his dark eyes looked straight into hers. They contained such a deep blackness, the pupils could hardly be identified from the irises around them. She had never seen eyes so black before. They were deep and intense and strangely captivating, she could not look away from them. They seemed to seek the answer she refused to give in her eyes. As if they were able to look into the very depths of her soul.

She lowered her gaze. Slowly, he turned his head to expose the cut to her. Hermione raised one hand to brush some strands of his hair out of his face and he flinched as her fingertips touched his temple. “Does that hurt?” Hermione asked, startled.

“No –”

“Oh –”

She examined the wound carefully. “That's no bite,” she declared finally. “And I don't think it's a paw-scratch either.”

Some of the tension left his body at that statement. “Do you really think so?” he asked softly.

She nodded slightly. “Yes, I'm sure of it. It must have been one of the willow's twigs.”

He nodded, “Yes, I supposed so, too. Thank you – Géraldine,” he murmured. Again he looked into her eyes and, again, she was not able to look away.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Hermione drew her hand back from his face. She had to clear her throat again. “Never mind – S-Severus –” 

The ghost of a smile formed at his lips.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” a bored voice behind them drawled. “If it isn't my dear friend Snape and his little crush, the ‘French wench’?” he sniggered at his own word-play and continued, “Did you two sneak up here for some secret snogging session in the library, or what?!”

Snape whirled around. “That's none of your concern, Malfoy,” he snapped at him. “Mind your own business.”

“Oh, damn jealous, are we, Snape?!” Malfoy taunted with a nasty smirk. “Don't say you'd mind, if I made a move for her, too?”

Suddenly his eyes fell on the wound on Snape's cheek. “What's that?!”

“Nothing!” Snape muttered hastily and brushed his hair into his face again.

“Oh dear,” Malfoy taunted sickeningly, “Is she such a tigress? She scratches and bites, Snape? No wonder you're fond of her. Poor McNair,” he mocked in false pity, “She can hardly compare to – that shameless little tart –” 

“Shut up Malfoy!” Snape yelled at him, his pale cheeks suddenly flushed with anger. “I'm sick of your nasty, repulsive comments, and your damn arrogance! You're a constant plague! Leave me alone! I can't stand the sight of you anymore!”

Hermione remembered, she had been told, Snape had known more curses than every seventh year when he had started at Hogwarts. But she had always supposed them to be Duelling Curses, not insults, and she had certainly not expected to hear them all at once. But in the argument that broke free between the two of them now, she did.

Finally Malfoy sneered nastily at her, then let his eyes wander off towards Severus. “I'd be very careful if I were you, Snape,” he forced a false laugh, “very, very careful.” With that he turned on his heel and headed downstairs.

They were all alone again. Hermione noticed Snape's eyes still shot daggers in the direction where Malfoy had just disappeared, but softened when he looked at her. “I'm sorry,” he muttered uncomfortably, “don't mind him, he's an arse.”

Hermione's lips switched. “That's obvious.”

There was an odd tension between them. Hermione felt a strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach, when Snape looked at her again. “I guess, I should go back to Gryffindor Tower,” she told him nervously. “Otherwise my friends will probably be on the war-path.”

His lips formed a slight smile again. “Then you had better hurry.”

Hermione's head was full of confusion, she really did not know what to make of all this. She had already turned to leave, when he called after her. “Géraldine?”

Surprised, she looked back at him. “Yes?”

“Will you be at the library tomorrow morning?”

“Presumably, yes –”  she nodded, “why?”

“Well, I guess, I'll see you then,” he sneered, but she noticed it lacked its usual coldness. It seemed to be more out of habit than a gesture of dislike.

Her lips formed into a smile at that. “Well, till tomorrow, then, Severus.”

His eyes widened with surprise at her friendliness. “Till tomorrow, Géraldine,” he replied, echoing her farewell, and smiled at her.

A/N: A ‘Happy New Year’ to all of you!!! Thanks for following this story. :)

About the Healing Charms: I made them up myself. Feel free to use them, if you please. I hope I remembered the grammar right. 

Medico – I’m healing (someone)

Sisto sanguinem – I’m slowing the bleeding down

Coalesco vulnerem – I’m closing the wound

Purgo guttae – I’m cleansing (something of) the drops of blood

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

When Hermione returned to the common room, Lily and the boys were already waiting for her. “There you are, Géraldine!” James smiled, “we’ve been waiting for you for ages.”

“Did you talk to McGonagall?” Peter asked.

“Huuh –” Hermione mumbled absentmindedly.

In her thoughts, she was still sorting the recent happenings out. Snape – Severus – she corrected herself, had acted quite strangely in her opinion. He had been really nice to her, and he had actually told Malfoy off, which seemed to be a miracle in and of itself. But most confusing of all was the fact that they had called each other by their first names.

And she had felt so very odd in his presence. She had felt all giddy and nervous and she had not been able to look away from his eyes.

“Géraldine?” Lily asked carefully and she snapped out of her thoughts again.

“Oh-ewrm yes, yes, I did,” she muttered hastily. Her friend fixed her with an almost penetrating stare that made her feel quite uncomfortable. She wondered, if Lily suspected anything.

“Fine then,” Sirius exclaimed, “I suggest, we hurry down to the grounds now as long as it’s so warm and sunny.”

“Typical dog,” James grinned, “he can’t wait to play in the snow.”

”You should better be careful,” Sirius mocked, “Otherwise, I might turn out as a deer-hound?”

“Well that's still lots better than a cat, if you ask me,” Peter interjected, grinning.

Hermione glanced secretly at Remus and noticed he looked quite uncomfortable at the turn of conversation. “Come on,” she took his arm and shook her head in mock annoyance at their friends. “Let’s take this zoo out for a walk in the grounds. Shall we?”

He grinned quite shyly at her, and his still-pale cheeks regained some of their colour. “That’s a good idea.”

Hermione smiled at him, then turned her head to look at her friend, who still looked quite suspicious. “What about you Lily?”

“Oh yes, I’m coming, too. Don’t think you could get rid of me!” she grinned.

OO

Severus Snape stared at the open book in front of him without really seeing a single letter. He had reread the same page three times now, but he still could not remember what it was about. His mind was filled with memories of the recent happenings.

The werewolf’s attack the previous night. Géraldine, who had come to save him. His worry about the scratch and the relief he had felt, when she had told him what she thought of it.

And most of all, the confusing situation at the library a few minutes ago. His mind was still preoccupied with all these things. With a sigh of frustration he clapped the book shut and got up from his chair.

He could not concentrate now anyway. He still shook with rage about what Lucius had said. How dare he speak that ill of her when she was so incredibly brave, kind, and – wonderful. His lips curled into a slight smile. When he had called her by her first name, she had not complained about it. She had even called him Severus in return. And she had smiled at him. He was still completely confused by the giddy feelings that had hit him, when she had checked the wound on his cheek and her fingertips had brushed so very softly across his skin.

And he had felt all warm and funny inside, when she had gazed into his eyes. Maybe Lucius was not as wrong about the matter as he had been led to believe.

Severus walked over towards the window and contemplated the snow-covered grounds in the bright afternoon sun. He spotted a few figures close to the place where the lake must lay under the thick, white blanket of snow. Curious, he leaned forward. There were not too many candidates for whom the six figures in their dark cloaks could be. Not many students had stayed for the holidays.

It was them. He clearly recognized Lily’s copper-red hair, like a gleaming spot amid the whiteness. And next to her, a wavy mess of chocolate-coloured curls that was characteristic of the one he was looking for. Géraldine.

Another slight smile crept across his face and the funny feeling returned to his stomach. What was this about, he wondered, while he watched the little group walking along the banks of the frozen lake. Suddenly, he felt an inclination to just go down there and join them in their walk along the lakeside, but he knew quite well, he would not be very welcome. A pang of jealousy hit him at that thought.

They seemed to be so close to each other. He envied them for that. He was not exactly an outsider in the Slytherin community. No one in their right mind would isolate oneself by his own free will from his house members and, being raised in an old wizarding family, Severus knew quite well how important connections could become. Especially these days. He was not fool enough to keep himself away from their circle. Actually, he was well accepted for his magical talent and duelling skills, maybe even a little feared.  But there was no one whom he would have called a friend. Lucius had been closest to fitting that term.

Well, maybe he was a fool then. What he had said to Lucius earlier had certainly not been very useful in getting along with him. But he had just been so mad. He did not want to see him any sooner than he had to. It was bad enough to share a dorm with him. He felt still too much rage to go back down there, or to the common room right now.

Maybe a walk in the grounds was not such a bad idea.

OO

Hermione flinched, when a cold, solid wetness hit her right cheek. She had not noticed the attack and was caught by surprise. “Oh-iiih! What –”

When she whirled around, she spotted a broadly-grinning Sirius Black, who had already picked up a second handful of snow and pressed it into another ball. “You...” she gasped. “Just wait, I’ll get you!”

“Try it! I bet you won’t,” he taunted and threw the snow in her direction. Hastily she ducked out of its way. The little ball missed her by inches and smacked right into James’ face instead. “Heeey,” he complained, laughing, and picked up a handful of snow himself.

Sirius had already set himself at Hermione’s heels.

“Remus,” she screeched as she was hit by another snow-ball, “Remus, help me! We can’t let him get away with that!”

“No, of course not,” Remus grinned and joined her in her defence against Sirius. Defence became attack soon. She and Remus teamed up to get back at Sirius for all the trouble he had caused them and after a few minutes, they had hunted him down.

Remus threw himself at Sirius and they rolled around in the snow. Hermione did not hesitate to rub some snow into Sirius’ face and all three of them were shrieking with laughter and joy. More than once a light pain in her right side reminded Hermione of last night’s happenings, but now that she knew Snape was not going to become a Werewolf, she felt so happy all of a sudden that she did not really care.

James and Peter did not hesitate to participate in the fight as well.

“Honestly,” Lily sniffed and buried her hands deep in the pockets of her cloak, “How old are we, guys? You’re acting like a bunch of first-years. I really don’t think – ”

An attack from James silenced her in mid sentence and changed her opinion of the matter quickly and thoroughly. Only a little later all six of them were covered in fluffy white snow. Powdery white layers of snow sprayed up at their battle.

No one noticed the pale, dark-haired boy, who stared at them with envy from behind a tree and ducked out of the way, when a stray snow-ball wandered in his direction.

OO

The fading October sun added a golden glow to the leaves of the Forbidden Forest that were already starting to turn red and gold. It was a beautiful sight of intense, bright shining colours. Red and gold were spreading amongst the deep green.

Gryffindor colours, Severus Snape thought sarcastically. Red and gold, invading the deep, peaceful green of Slytherin. Just like she, who was in his mind every morning as soon as he opened his eyes. She would not leave him alone either, not even in his dreams.

He sneered. What a terrible mess that accident had created. Each and every morning he woke up with thoughts of Hermione Granger. Day by day he worried about her well-being and safe return. And most of all about the way she was affecting both his past and present lives.

Slowly and thoughtfully he strode along the lake shore, lost in a tangled web of old and new memories of a past that was constantly altered by her presence. Memories of the things that had not happened because of her were not missing all of a sudden, but in a confusing way all these memories were blurry and fragile as dreams now, while the new ones that had invaded his mind in the shape of dreams, had become as clear as real events. He did not forget about his ‘former’ past, but the past that had been altered by her interference, seemed to be the real, relevant one now.

His own mind was becoming traitor to him. The emotions that suddenly flooded his heart were a confusing mess. What had only been a frightening suspicion a few days ago, had become an indisputable, disturbing truth.

His teenage self was defiantly falling for Hermione Granger, and he found his own thoughts and feelings affected by this development. Embarrassing as it might be, his heartbeat quickened if he thought of the light touch of her fingertips on his cheek and the way her soft-shining, cinnamon-coloured eyes had looked into his in front of the library back on that Christmas Day so many years ago. He felt the same confused, disturbing affection for her as his younger self experienced ‘right now’ in that different time. There was no doubt about that anymore.

How on earth he was supposed to deal with these feelings if she ever came back, he did not know.

OO

“All right.” James placed his wand inside an empty pumpkin-juice bottle and grinned at his friends. “The rules are clear to everyone, I suppose. Whenever the bottle points at you, you have to choose between truth, or dare. And the one who has turned the bottle may ask you whatever he wants, or set your task. If you’re lying, the tip of the wand will glow bright-red and everyone will notice.”

“Who’s first?” Peter asked nervously.

“I’ll begin,” James grinned. With that he started the game. Six pairs of eyes stared at the spinning, pale green bottle and everyone held their breath. No one wanted to be first.

The bottle turned around in quick circles, became slower and slower until it stopped pointing at – Hermione.

‘Oh brilliant,’ she thought, ‘just what I wanted, to make a fool out of myself or let them press me about things I shouldn’t have known.’

“Ah, it’s our dear Géraldine,” James looked up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What do you choose?”

Despite her worries about an uncomfortable question, Hermione was even more afraid of the ‘Dare’ James might set for her, what only left one choice ...

“Truth,” she croaked out.

“Ah, that’s interesting. Let’s see – What could I ask you? Emmm-yes that’s it!” an evil grin spread across his face and he pointed at his friends. “Whom of the three of them do you like best?”

‘Oh hell,’ Hermione thought, ‘that could become trouble.’

Carefully, she let her eyes wander across the three boys in front of her. Peter, who did not expect to be the chosen one, grinned just like Lily and James. But Remus and Sirius looked quite tense and nervous all of a sudden.

Whatever she would say now, it would probably mean a lot to both of them. As different as their personalities were, so was their way of coping with this situation. Sirius as the short-tempered, energetic one looked straight at her, awaiting her answer; whereas shy, calm Remus’ eyes flickered away every time she looked in his direction.

She was tempted to flee into a lame, diplomatic answer and say ‘all three’ or something of that kind, but the wand would not accept such. She had to make an honest choice.

It might be because of the recent incident that she was not too fond of Sirius. She was still quite mad with him. Or perhaps she simply feared he might ask her out again if she said she would like him best. But somehow, she doubted that was the whole truth. When she had hugged them earlier, she had felt a lot more comfortable with Remus than with Sirius. Maybe it was because Sirius had already asked her out and Remus was so shy and defensive. She doubted that he would ever ask her for a date. He seemed to have far too many second thoughts when considering his Werewolf problem to make a move for any girl. He seemed to feel unworthy to be loved, but was yet so kind and loveable. She did not mind him being a Werewolf at all. Well, she felt sorry for him of course as it must be a terrible destiny, but she did not feel repulsed by it. He was a very kind, trustworthy friend and she cared a lot about him. She wondered, if she liked him even more than a friend.

But no, she frowned slightly. No, that was not true, she could not imagine kissing either of them, but could not help the picture of a pair of intense, beetle-black eyes that appeared inside of her mind and left her with the funny feeling of butterflies in her stomach. Whatever that was supposed to mean, she certainly did not want to dwell on those thoughts right now.

Carefully, she cleared her throat.

“Errm, Remus,” she said quietly. “I like Remus, best.”

At that, Remus’ head snapped up, his hazel-brown eyes filled with surprise and – an amount of disbelieving happiness that made her feel all bad for awakening any hopes in him, she could not fulfil. He deserved so much to be loved, she was just the wrong person for that. For a brief moment they simply looked at each other, then the sound of giggling drew in to them. Peter, Lily and James teased them as was common in a game of Truth or Dare.

Half-heartedly, Hermione laughed along with them and even Remus forced a light-hearted grin. But she knew, it meant a lot to him. She could only hope, he would not take this too seriously.

When she looked at Sirius, she noticed he did not join in. He looked kind of disturbed and slightly mad.

“Hey, Géraldine, it’s your turn now,” Lily sniggered.

Hermione, relieved to escape being the centre of attention, turned the bottle. A sly grin spread across her face, when she discovered it was Lily’s turn now. “Serves you right,” she exclaimed at her friend’s groaning. “Well, since when have you liked James, Lil?”

“Oh,” she blushed slightly, “since third year,” she muttered. James raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Honestly? I had no idea.”

“That – was obvious,” Lily sighed sarcastically and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance at her boyfriend. “It took you ages to realise.”

She turned the bottle and it stopped at Peter, who chose a ‘Dare’.

“I dare you to smuggle a dung-bomb into Snape’s cauldron the next Potions lesson.”

“Oh, no!” Hermione gasped, annoyed. Four pairs of eyes looked at her in utmost surprise. Just Lily shot her a knowing glance.

“Well, all right, not Snape then. Whom do you suggest instead, Géraldine?” she asked innocently.

“Lucius Malfoy!” Hermione blurted out.

James nodded appreciatively at that. “That’s no bad choice, either.”

“But that’s the same cauldron, isn’t it?” Peter asked, confused. “They are always working together.”

‘I bet they won’t,’ Hermione thought and a slight smile appeared at her lips.

“Sickle for your thoughts, Géraldine,” Lily whispered to her and she blushed.

“Why shouldn’t we pick Snape?” Sirius frowned.

Lily decided to be merciful to her friend. “All right, we’ll put it into Lucius’ cauldron, then,” she decided. “Go on, it’s your turn now, Peter.”

This time, the bottle stopped at Sirius. “I dare you to kiss either Lily or Géraldine,” Peter grinned.

‘Oh no,’ Hermione groaned inwardly. But to everyone’s surprise, Sirius did not look at her at all, but transformed into a dog and licked Lily’s cheek.

Giggling, she gripped his untidy, black fur. “S-siihirius!” she gasped and tried to shove him off, “stop that! That’s tickling!!”

James frowned and grabbed his friend at the back of his neck. “Off! Sit!” he commanded sharply.

“Back, Black,” Peter mocked and Hermione and Remus shot each other an amused look. It was a funny sight to watch their friend in his Animagus form. He seated himself on his hind legs and looked at them. The large black dog’s mouth was hanging open. He seemed to be laughing at them and his tail happily thumped against the floor.

“Was that really necessary?” James growled at him and Lily giggled. “Do you really expect an answer? I doubt he’ll be able to manage it.”

At that, Sirius transformed back and grinned at his friend. “Is that rose-soap, you’re using?”

Lily blushed “No-erwm it’s ‘Lily of the Valley’,” she muttered and everyone except James laughed.

“Your not mad at me, ‘Lily of the Valley’, are you?” Sirius teased.

Impulsively, she ruffled his hair. “Not at all, ‘Bete Noir’. I guess, I’m lucky you didn’t do that without transforming first. But I suggest you’d better save it for a date with Lassie next time.”

Peter, Remus and Hermione snorted with laughter at that and even James’ lips switched at the comment.

When Sirius turned the bottle, it came to a halt at Remus, who did not follow the other boys’ example, but choose ‘Truth’ instead.

“With whom of all girls would you want to go to Hogsmeade?” Sirius asked.

A shocked expression slipped across Remus’ face, before he could hide his emotions. “Tammy” he said to everyone’s surprise.

As soon as he had spoken the name, the wand started to glow bright red. Hermione was a little confused about this. “Who’s Tammy,” she asked.

“Tammy Reynolds,” Lily explained smiling, “a Hufflepuff. She’s our year.”

“Yes that’s right,” James grinned,” but she’s most obviously not his first choice. I’m sorry, but you seem to have forgotten about the lie-detecting-charm on the wand, old boy.” Everyone laughed, even Remus himself. Hermione noticed his eyes flickered towards her and his face was gleaming just as red as the wand.

OO

Around midnight they became hungry again. After the opulent Christmas lunch, they had had just a light meal for dinner. Now was the perfect time to have a look at all the things they had smuggled out of the kitchens. It got very late and Hermione, who was still exhausted from the previous night’s excitements, listened to her friends’ voices and the cracking sound of the logs in the fireplace. She was just about to fall asleep, when she noticed them talking about her.

“Look, she has fallen asleep,” Peter exclaimed quietly.

“Oh yes, she must be so tired after all that stress last night.”  That had been Lily’s voice.

“Did she say anything else about the matter Lily?” James asked his girlfriend.

“No, just what she told us this morning.”

“Do you think she knows all these things, cause she’s a seer?” Remus muttered.

“Presumably. We should ask her to keep it to herself,” Sirius suggested nervously, but Lily shook her head.

“That won’t be necessary, she won’t tell anyone.”

“How can you be sure about that?”

“Cause she refused to go to see Madam Pomfrey about her ankle last night, and said it would get you boys in major trouble – all of you.”

“Oh –”

They fell silent and stared into the flames.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?” Lily began after a while. “Didn’t you trust me?” She sounded slightly annoyed and hurt.

“Don’t be mad, Lil,” James pleaded. “We couldn’t risk letting anyone know that we are Animagi. It’s illegal without a licence, and it's restricted by the Ministry, you know? And Remus –”

“But I’m your friend, not just your girlfriend, I've been a friend to all of you since our first year. I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“I know Lily,“ James muttered uncomfortably, “but – Remus, what are you doing?” he asked, confused.

The next moment, Hermione felt a woollen blanket placed around her and heard Remus’ soft voice above her. “She must be cold,” he remarked awkwardly. Hermione was glad, everyone supposed her to be asleep. This way she would not be teased about the matter as poor embarrassed Remus was.

OO

When Hermione entered the library the next morning, Severus was already there. He looked up at the sound of the old door’s creeping noise and smiled at her.

She sat down at her usual table and for the next hour, they kept working in silence. Nonetheless Hermione shot some secret glances in his direction and a few times their eyes met. Each time this happened a slight smile appeared on his lips, and she wondered what that was supposed to mean. Insecurely, she smiled back at him before looking down at her parchment again.

When it was finally time for breakfast, Severus strode over towards her table. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she felt a nervous lump in her throat and a funny fluttering in the pit of her stomach all of a sudden. ‘Very original answer,’ she complemented herself.

“What are you doing?” he bent down to look at her parchment. “Is that –” he frowned. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just some notes for Transfiguration,” Hermione muttered hastily, shoved the parchment into one of the books and clapped it shut. Severus’ dark eyes seemed to be fixed on hers.

“What?” she asked nervously. Her voice sounded more sharp than she had intended.

“I’m going down to the Great Hall for breakfast,” he told her quietly, “Are you coming, too?”

“What? O-oh, yes, of course,” she stuttered, confused. Her brain seemed to have shrunken to the size of a pea all of a sudden. There seemed to be nothing but air in its place. She could not think of any good response. ‘Wonderful, now he must think I’m a complete nitwit,’ she thought sourly.

Severus looked at the large pile of books at the table. “What about those?” He picked up one of the heavy leather-bound volumes. “‘In Less Than A Second’,” he read aloud. “’Neither Time Nor Space’, ‘A Little Of Your Time’ – what are these?”

“Oh,” Hermione began nervously, “I’m doing some research about the possibilities of wizarding transport systems,” she muttered. “You know, like Floo Powder, Time-Turners, Portkeys and things like that. It’s fascinating for a muggleborn like me,” she added lamely. “I want to find out more about it.”

“Oh, that’s why,” he smiled. “Can I help you with them?”

Her head snapped up in alarm. ‘He could not – must not – know about her research into time-travelling. She had promised Dumbledore to keep it a secret from – everyone. How on earth was she supposed to worm her way out of this?’

But to her utmost surprise and relief Severus pointed his head at the books between them. “Let me carry them for you.”

“Oh,” she blushed, “you needn’t. I can just as well levitate them, thank you.”

“No you can’t,” he grinned, “We’re not allowed to use any magic in the corridors, don’t you remember?”

“Oh, em, yes, of course,” she muttered and with a triumphant smile, he picked up the larger pile of books. “Well then – let’s go.”

They were still talking to each other, when they entered the Great Hall. Lily, James, Remus, Peter and Sirius stared at her in disbelief. And at Severus, who was still carrying her books.

OO

The boiling liquid’s hissing noise drew everyone’s attention towards the thick clouds of acid green steam that rose from Neville’s cauldron. He cast a desperate look in the direction of his friends. Since Hermione was missing, he had already melted two cauldrons and blown his potions up three times. And for all it looked like, this day’s lesson did not seem to work out any better for him.

“Longbottom!” Snape hissed. “That’s the third cauldron you managed to ruin this month. I wonder if you’ll ever learn how to brew a potion properly.”

But to everyone’s utmost surprise he did not taunt Neville for his clumsiness as he usually did. “Put your dragon-hide gloves on, when you clean up that mess,” he sighed and returned to his desk.

Neville, who could not believe his luck hurried to clean up his things.

“Harry,” Ron whispered excitedly, “did you see that?”

“He let Neville off without a detention and he did not take any points from Gryffindor,” his friend said with a trace of disbelief in his voice.

“Yes, but that’s not what I mean,” Ron muttered impatiently.

“What else?”

“There were ginger cat hairs on his robes.”

“What?!” Harry gasped, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,“ Ron whispered back, “but we should definitely keep an eye on him.”

OO

The next morning Hermione arrived first at the library. She had barely placed all her books, parchment and quills on the desk, when Severus entered the room and headed straight for her table.

“Hi Géraldine,” he smiled as soon as he had spotted her and pointed at the chair next to hers. “May I join you? Or do you want to study alone?” he sounded almost a little shy.

Hermione’s eyes widened with surprise. “No. No, sit down – S-Severus. I’d be glad to have you join me.”

At the surprised look in his eyes, she felt the blood creeping into her face. “I’m trying to figure out, what Professor Binns meant about the relation between the Goblin rebellions of the 16th century and the Wood Elves’ war of succession,” she babbled nervously.

“Oh,” Severus remarked, obviously relieved to have found a topic of conversation. He pulled out the chair to her left and drew the opened book towards him. She noticed his cheeks had turned a slightly pink colour, too.

“I guess that’s supposed to mean that the Elves were so distracted by the question, which of the twins was the hereditary prince, that they didn’t pay enough attention to the developments in the Goblin community,” he explained. His voice sounded similar to the one in which he would be lecturing in class in her days, but lacked its coldness. There was a trace of nervousness in it that was new to her as well.

“The Goblins had often complained about the trade agreement of 1513 and other discriminations,” he continued, “but the Elves wouldn’t even listen.”

“Yes,” Hermione interrupted fiercely, “did you know that the Goblins had to pay higher taxes than every other magical inhabitant of the Elfish kingdom? And if they couldn’t pay, they were banned from their towns.”

Severus nodded. “Yes, it’s no wonder they teamed up against them in the end, if you ask me. They just waited for the right time. Slyto the Slyly, had already founded secret fellowships all over the country and when the Elves diverged over the twin princes, the Goblins took the opportunity and started their rebellion.”

“I know,” Hermione injected, “the various battles dragged on for almost the whole century and the Goblins got the upper hand finally. Drano the Dreadful, was one of their bravest generals.”

“Yes,” Severus nodded once more. “He was killed in 1576, when a traitor poisoned his wine goblet.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled proudly of her knowledge of detail, “He was poisoned by an overdose of the Draught of the Living Death that was mixed in with the wine.”

She could see Severus’ eyebrows rose in surprise at that. “That’s right,” he smiled. “How did you know? Professor Binns didn’t mention it in class.“

Hermione smirked. “You’re not the only one who had been doing some background reading you know. What did you think I’ve been doing all these mornings in the library?”

Severus smiled. “Well one morning, you almost shocked me to death.” He made a move with his hand as if he were pointing a wand at her.

“You deserved it,” she grinned back. “Don’t ever call me a mudblood again, do you hear me?”

“No, I won’t, don’t worry,” he blushed a little. “I’m sorry about that, Géraldine, I actually meant Evans and I …”

“That’s no better,” Hermione frowned.

“Er yes, I know, actually I didn’t mean it at all. It’s just that Lucius says things like that all the time and I’m quite used to it, you know? It’s not what I meant at all.”

“Then don’t say things like that,” Hermione told him in a friendly tone of voice, “it’s mean, and stupid, and it hurts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” she teased. “For the way you told Lucius off on Christmas Day, you might even call me a mudblood once more, if you’d like to.”

He smiled back at her, relieved she wasn’t mad at him. “No, I don’t want to call you that. But you have to promise, you’re going to give me revenge at the next Duelling Club, will you?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Aren’t you afraid I’d disarm you again?” she teased.

“Not as long as my cat isn’t around,” he smiled.

“All right,” she beamed, “if you say so.”

“Yes, I do.” He held out his hand and she took it. “Deal then?”

“Deal.”

OO

The night of Sylvester was cold and clear that year. All remaining Professors and students were assembled on top of the Astronomy Tower, from were they would have a beautiful view of Hogsmeade, celebrating the New Year. Each of them held a glass of sparkling wine. The younger students’ glasses had some orange juice mixed in.

The air was filled with an unusual excitement. Everyone was looking forward to the start of the New Year and the opportunity to conjure up various coloured sparks with their wands.

Just a few minutes were left to midnight. Hermione walked over towards the balustrade and put her glass down onto it. She felt quite sad. She had been here for more than a month now and there was still no hope she might ever get back again. Back in her own time, it had to be late October right now and she wondered, how life would go on without her there. How her parents and friends might cope with her disappearance. And Snape – Would he feel the slightest bit sorry for her or would he be glad to be rid of the ‘insufferable know-it-all’ as he had called her so often?

She wondered, if she would be back when it was Sylvester in her own time, or if the new year she was about to welcome in a few minutes, would be one of many others to follow in this time? In a few minutes the year of 1978 would arrive – the year, her parents would meet each other at college and fall in love. They were only slightly older than her at the moment and she was afraid she would never be able to see them again, if she was really stuck in this time. At least, she could not tell them the truth. They would never believe her, if she did.

When steps approached her she hastily wiped the tears out of her eyes. Someone placed an arm around her back. “Géraldine?” Sirius asked carefully, “What are you doing here all alone? Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine. I’m just – contemplating the village,” she told him uncomfortably and tried to escape his embrace.

“Ah, speaking of Hogsmeade –” he began.

“It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?” Hermione interrupted nervously.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, but he was not looking at the old wizarding town in the distance. His eyes were fixed on her and when she looked up at him, he placed both of his hands at her upper arms.

“What do you say, Géraldine, will you go to Hogsmeade with me the next time?” he muttered.

“What?” she swallowed, “Oh Sirius, I – I’m sorry, but – I don’t think that’s a good idea. I –” she wrestled herself from his grip.

“Are you still mad with me?” he frowned and stepped closer to her.

“No, Sirius it’s not about that. It’s just –”

“You aren’t seeing anyone else, are you?” he took another step in her direction.

“No –”

“Then why?” Once more, he sneaked his arm around her. “Géraldine,” he whispered, “you know that I like you.”

“I like you, too. Just not like this.” Hermione told him softly. “I’m sorry, Sirius.” Once more she tried to escape his embrace, but he just pulled her closer at that.

“But you haven’t even tried,” he muttered stubbornly and tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away from him.

“Please Sirius –” she whispered uncomfortably and pressed both of her hands against his chest. “Please don’t –”

“But – Géraldine, I lo –” 

“I think, she has made it quite clear she isn’t interested,” a familiar voice snarled behind them.

Sirius whirled around. “Snape?!” he gasped. “What the hell –”

A/N: Thank you for your nice and encouraging comments. I’m really happy about them.  

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Sirius narrowed his eyes to small slits. “And what makes this your business, Snape?!” he spat.

Severus glared at him. “I don’t think I have to explain my actions to you!” he exclaimed, furiously.

Hermione stared at the two infuriated boys with a mixture of shock and surprise. They looked furious enough to have a fight over it.

“Neither do I,” Sirius growled and reached for her once more. This time it was just to annoy Severus, she supposed. He sent a triumphant glance in his direction as he grabbed her hand. “Come on, Géraldine. Let’s go back to the others!”

Severus' eyes locked with hers as if he wanted to assure himself of what she thought of this. “Let go of my hand, Sirius,” Hermione demanded, calmly.

Stunned, Sirius released her hand and stared at her. “Don’t tell me you want to stay with him!” he gasped and pointed at Severus in disbelief.

Hermione did not even get the chance to respond because Severus already stepped in front of her. “Clear off Black,” he hissed, “she doesn’t want you to paw her, don’t you get it?!”

“That’s none of your bloody business, Snape!” Sirius spat. “She’s my friend, not yours!! Of course she’ll come with me! Why would she want to talk to a greasy snake?!”

At that Hermione gasped with annoyance. “Ohh really, Sirius! You can be such an ass! How can you talk to Severus like that?!”

Sirius stared at her in shock. His eyes narrowed again and his cheeks were flushed with anger. “Ohhh, so it’s ‘Severus’ then, is it?!” he taunted. “Well that’s fine with me!” he snapped. With a last disgusted look at them he stormed off.

Hermione could not help but shiver. She grabbed the parapet-wall for support and hung her head.

Concerned, Severus turned towards her. “Géraldine?”

Hesitatingly, almost shyly, he touched her elbow. “Is everything all right?” he muttered carefully. There was concern in his dark eyes and a great deal of insecurity. “Shall I go away? Do you want to be alone?” he asked softly and once again she felt herself lost in the incredible deep blackness of his eyes.

Even when he drew his hand back, her skin seemed to be burning where he had touched her arm.

“What?” she muttered slightly confused, and the concern in his eyes deepened.

“Are you sad? Shall I get Evans? Do you want to talk to her?” he asked gently.

Hermione swallowed, and then nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am sad,” she whispered, “but you needn’t get Lily. Just stay with me for a moment, will you?”

His dark eyes grew even blacker as his pupils dilated with surprise. “O-o-yes-of course,” he muttered, confused. Hermione noticed his hesitation, whether or not he should take her hand, which rested just a few inches from his on the parapet-wall.

She was just about to reach for his hand instead, when a sudden cheering behind them announced the arrival of the New Year.

The clinking of glasses, tipped to one another, and the whizzing sound of merrily sparkling wands filled the air. Over Severus’ shoulder she could spot coloured showers of glittering sparks twinkling above Hogsmeade too, and the sound of various bells, ringing in the New Year, drifted over from the little village in the distance.

Everyone around them was cheering and celebrating, but Severus still looked at her. He seemed to be just as insecure as she felt. Brave-heartedly, Hermione stepped forward and hugged him tightly. “Happy New Year, Severus,” she whispered.

The first few seconds, he did not respond at all. He just stood there, his body tense with shock as it seemed. Then his arms encircled her and pulled her into a close embrace, too. His hair tickled her ear and his skin felt cold, when she leaned her cheek against his.

“Happy New Year, Géraldine,” he whispered into her ear and hugged her tighter. “I hope – whatever made you sad a few minutes ago, will take a turn for the better this year.”

Hermione thought her heart might skip a beat at the gentle tone of his voice. His warm breath brushed slightly across the soft skin of her ear as he spoke.

She took in a sharp breath, leaned her head to his shoulder and closed her eyes. And for the first time since she had been stranded in the past, everything felt all right again.

“Severus,” she muttered, “I – I – Thank you.”

He just hugged her tighter at that, but said nothing. For a few more seconds, neither of them moved. Then, slowly – almost reluctantly – they let go of each other. 

OO

Back in the Slytherin dormitory, Lucius sneered at his room mate. “Did the little slut turn your head around that thoroughly that you don’t even mind to hide your fondness in public anymore?” he drawled.

Severus just frowned at him, but said nothing.

“She must have rather stunning qualities, if you‘re this fond of her,” Lucius added with a nasty sneer. “I’m really interested to test them myself some time.”

This had the intended effect as Severus’ head snapped up in alarm. “You stay away from her!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“Oh, a little overprotective, are we?” Lucius taunted with a nasty grin. “She’s probably laughing herself sick about your lovesick behaviour right now. I bet she’s sleeping around with those Gryffindor gits as well. Get a grip on yourself Snape. To have a little fun with her is one thing, but you certainly shouldn’t allow that dirty little Mudblood to turn your head around like that. That’s really pathetic,” he drawled.

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Severus spat. “You’re so stuck up with all your pureblood arrogance and your damn, narrow-minded prejudice by now that you don’t even notice what a yak’s ass you’ve become! How dare you to insult her like that!? You’re a damn, lying bastard, a complete crank! That’s what I call - pathetic!”

With that Severus pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut and cast a silencing spell around it.

Shaking with rage, he leaned back against the head of his bed and stared in the direction of Lucius. He was more than glad that every view and noise was blocked by the enchanted curtains. He could not stand the sight of the other boy, who was probably still trying his best to provoke him. He was sure Lucius had not even noticed that Severus had cast the spell around his bed.

Let him spit with venom as long as he pleased out there. Severus could almost picture all the mean, nasty insults, which were blocked by the spell’s barrier, dripping down from the thick velvet curtain material. Building a pitch-black, hissing pool on the floor – like the acid, sharp poison that they were.

OO

Up in the Gryffindor girls’ dormitory, Lily tried to get some information out of Hermione. “I’ve never seen Sirius mad like that before. What on earth happened between the three of you? We didn’t notice a thing until Sirius stormed past us and down the stairs all of a sudden.”

Hermione shrugged. “He tried to kiss me and Severus told him off. They almost had a fight about it and when I told Sirius to leave us alone, he lost it completely.”

“You told him to leave you alone with – Snape?” Lily gasped, “Poor Siri, he’s so fond of you. James says, he even muttered your name in his sleep recently.”

She grinned, “I wonder what he has been dreaming about then. Did he really try to kiss you? That’s so sweet.”

“I didn’t think so,” Hermione frowned. “I told him I don’t like him like that, but he didn’t even listen. If it hadn’t been for Severus, he would have probably kissed me anyway.”

Lily grinned again. “Oh yes, that sounds a lot like Sirius. He can be so damn stubborn if he doesn’t get what he wants.” She suddenly frowned, “But what did Snape have to do with the whole matter – and did I get it right that you call him Severus?”

“Yes, I do. Is there a problem?” Hermione’s temper rose at the disbelieving note in her friend’s voice.

“Peter said, when he and Remus walked over to wish you a Happy New Year, you were hugging Snape. Is that true, Géraldine?”

“Well, yes. It was midnight and you usually hug your friends and wish them a Happy New Year then,” Hermione exclaimed quite annoyed, and climbed into bed.

“Yes, of course – your friends – that’s right,” Lily agreed, “I wouldn’t have wondered, if you had hugged Sirius, Remus, Peter or James, but Snape?” Her eyes widened with shock. “Snape, Géraldine?” she gasped. “You’re friends with Snape?”

“Yes, I am!” Hermione snapped, “So what?! Won’t you talk to me anymore now, or what, Lily?” she glared at her.

At this Lily’s face grew serious. “Of course I will, Géraldine. What kind of stupid question is that? You’re my friend and I’ve very well noticed that you have some interest in Snape and that he is definitely fond of you. I just didn’t expect you’d actually have a thing for him.”

“Who says I do?”

“Well, it looks like there’s something going on between the two of you. The others and I have noticed that you erw, … that you happen to be around him rather often lately … and after what happened at the tower – I mean …”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hermione said coldly.

“Oh come on Géraldine! How stupid do you think I am? You have a crush on him, don’t deny it!”

“And what would you do, if I said yes to this?” Hermione asked in challenge.

Lily just stared at her with an expression of discomfort on her face. “He’s in Slytherin, Géraldine, just bear that in mind. Be careful, will you?” 

“I know he is,” Hermione frowned, “but Lily, I didn’t expect you to be so stuck up and full of prejudice.”

Lily shot her a careful side glance. “I’m not,” she protested. “I’m just suspicious. Maybe he is trying to get back at you for what happened at the library. You know, that morning you disarmed him. Did you think of that?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t. He isn’t that bad at all. I guess, … I erw, … kind of … erw, …like him, Lily,” she admitted carefully. “He’s very nice to me and he, .. well, he doesn’t look bad either, does he?” she added blushing.

“A-ha –” Lily remarked, quite stunned. “But –”

“No buts.  I’ve never said I had a crush on him, have I? Maybe I have, maybe not. That’s none of your business, Lily.”

Lily looked hurt at that. “I just meant well. You needn’t be all offended, Géraldine.”

“I’m not offended, Lily. But I refuse to dislike him, just because he’s in bloody Slytherin!”

“So you don’t like that lot either, ew?”

“No.”

“But him…?”

“Yes…”

“Oh .. A lot?”

“Umm? What?”

“If you like him a lot?”

“Ohh – erw yes – Yes, I'm afraid so …”

“Ohhhw –”

“Yes, I guess – Ohhhw – sums it up quite nicely,” Hermione sighed.

OO

When Severus entered the library on New Year’s morning, he did not expect to find her there. It had been quite late the night before for all of them and he had supposed she would sleep in, like everyone else.

But there she was, seated against a window that was completely covered in frost-flowers. She had gathered her legs up under herself on the small upholstered bench that run around one of the bay-windows, a thick book in her lap. At this early hour of day the House Elves had not started a fire in the hearth and the vast room was even colder than usual. He noticed she had wrapped herself into her cloak, which she used to bring along for their studying sessions. The Gryffindor quarters had to be warmer than the Slytherin dungeons. She was obviously not as used to the cold as he was.

Apart from the lanterns she had brought, which spread a faint circle of light around her that was merely enough to read by, the vast room was completely dark. One lantern was positioned on the windowsill behind her and sent a glittering shine across the countless little crystals of frost-flowers. The other one was placed on a ledge in the wall beside her.

At the door’s low creaking noise she looked up from the book she held in her lap. He could not help but stare at her. “Hi,” he smiled.

“Hi,” her whole face lit up with her smile and a feeling of warmth rose inside of his chest at the sight. He slowly strode over towards the light-filled bay. “Couldn’t you sleep either?”

She shook her head at him. “No.”

He took a seat on the narrow bench, carefully avoiding touching her. For a few moments they just looked at each other, then she looked down to the thick book in her lap and he turned his head towards the window.

But since it was still dark outside, there was not much for him to look at. So he just studied her face instead. He knew she noticed him watching her. He could tell it from the way her posture tensed slightly. She continued to stare at the book, pretending to read, but her eyes rested on the same spot of parchment all the time and she started to blink and wriggle quite a bit. Nervously she tugged some strands of her hair behind her ear. After a few more seconds, she gave up and looked at him. “Aren’t you going to study this morning?” she asked and he noticed a slight trace of insecurity in her voice.

Slowly he shook his head. “No,” he told her, “I don’t think so.”

She frowned slightly, “Why did you come to the library then?”

This time it was his turn to look away first. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I – just needed to be alone, I suppose, and – do some thinking, I –”

“Oh,” she smiled, obviously unsure if she should press him further about the matter. It was so quiet that he could hear the soft, regular sound of her breathing. It was no uncomfortable silence, though.

He leaned back against a small piece of wall between the windows and closed his eyes. Although he had come here to be alone, it did not feel half bad to sit here beside her. It was even better than being all by himself.

“Is there anything you would like to talk about?” she asked softly and he opened his eyes to look at her. She had leaned forward, some strands of her hair had fallen over her shoulders, but he resisted the impulse to brush them back from her face.

She had such beautiful hair, he thought. He clearly remembered how these curls had tickled his cheek and neck, when she had embraced him the night before at the Astronomy Tower.  He swallowed against the lump that was building in his throat at the memory.

She still waited for his answer, he noticed. The lantern light reflected in her pretty cinnamon eyes, which rested on his face, and briefly he wondered whether he should dare to tell her about the things that troubled his mind.

It was quite a tempting prospect to be able to free himself of all the tensions that pressed on his heart, he thought, but sneered slightly. Well it was not really an option, was it? He could hardly tell her about his recent hesitation to join “The Circle”, could he? Silently he shook his head and closed his eyes once more.

“It’s nothing, really,” he told her. Even to himself his voice sounded quite mournful. “I just woke up early and didn’t want to stay in the dorm or common room. So I came here to be left alone and do some thinking.”

He opened his eyes to look at her. “I’m sharing a dorm with Lucius, you see? There are also Nott, Lestrange and Goyle of course, but they went home for the holidays and Lucius – Well, I had another argument with him last night. He – he said some stupid things and I – I couldn’t stand to listen to them.”

At least that was the truth.

“He used to be kind of a friend to me – but now – I don’t get along with him anymore – that’s why I didn’t want to stay in the dormitory.”

She smiled sympathetically at him, “Oh, I see. That can’t be easy.”

He shook his head and looked to the floor. “No,” he muttered, “it’s not.”

He suddenly felt her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, “I know it’s partly because of me that you got into a fight with him.”

His head snapped up with surprise. “It’s not your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong, you –” he trailed off and stared at her.

She looked at him earnestly. “It’s very nice of you to stick up for me like that,” she told him softly. “I’m glad you do. Really.”

He felt his cheeks flushing at her words. It almost sounded as if – But no, he was probably wrong about that. She could not possibly like him – like that? But still – In some kind of way she seemed to care about him.

Her gaze rested in his. And once again he was completely captivated by the strange colour of her eyes. Like cinnamon, he thought. He had never seen eyes of that colour before. Maybe it was a Muggle thing, he was not sure about that. He had never taken himself time to find out about things like this.

He suddenly noticed that she must have said something. But he had been so lost to his thoughts that he could not tell what it was. She most obviously expected an answer.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered awkwardly, “what did you say?”

She smiled at him once more. It made him feel all light-headed and made his heart race with joy. With a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, he returned the smile.

“I said that I suppose those ‘stupid things’ Malfoy said yesterday were probably about me again?”

“Oh yes. Yes, that’s right,” Severus mumbled uneasily.

“What did he say?” she asked and he flushed with embarrassment at the memory of Lucius’ accusations.

“Ohh – you wouldn’t want to know, believe me –” he muttered and stared at his feet.

“Yes, I do. Please tell me, will you?” she pleaded.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “He said – well, lots of things – lots of rubbish to be precise – I don’t want to repeat that – honestly. I’m sure you have a fairly good idea of what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” she nodded and he noticed her cheeks were flushed as well. She sounded quite depressed, almost ashamed.

He could not stand to see her like that. Very gingerly he placed his hand on her forearm and pressed it briefly. “Don’t worry about him so much, all right?” he asked softly.

She gave him a timid little smile at that, but nodded. “Uumm – OK.”

With a sigh she closed the copy of ‘Hogwarts – A History’ in her lap and looked up at him once more. “I don’t think I can concentrate on reading either.”

He looked at her with an insecure expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t. I’m glad you’re here,” she told him.

“Really?”

“Mhm, yes.”

“Oh. Me, too,” he smiled.

Once again they fell into silence, but this time it was an awkward one. There was a lot of tension all of a sudden – a lot of things that had been left unspoken hung in the air between them.

“It’s quite a long time till breakfast,” Severus started a little nervously.

“Yes, almost two hours,” she nodded.

“Well, since you have your cloak with you, anyway –”

“Yes?”

“Would you care for a walk around the grounds?” he asked softly and he watched her eyes widen with surprise before she nodded.

“Oh – erw, yes – Yes, that would be nice – Severus,” she smiled.

This time he could not hide his happiness. With a broad smile he jumped to his feet. “I have to get my cloak first. Just wait, will you? I’ll hurry.”

OO

Everything around was quiet. The snow’s hushed crunching noise beneath their feet was the only sound as they crossed the vast, snow-covered front lawn and approached the edge of the Forbidden Forrest.

It was still quite dark outside. Only a very faint reddish light in the east foretold the approaching sunrise – the very first of the New Year. The constantly brightening grey sky was still dotted with a handful of stars, but it was only a matter of time before they would disappear.

Hermione had to carefully watch her every step, so as not to trip over the roots that reached into their path as they walked along the edge of the wood. The ground led slowly, but steadily upwards. Severus seemed to have a special destination in mind and so she followed without asking where they were heading to.

For a long time they just walked next to each other in silence, exchanging only brief side-glances every now and then. Her heart was beating like mad, whenever she looked at him. His cheeks had a slightly rose colour from the cold and she could see the icy clouds of their breath in the air.

Suddenly he turned his head and caught her staring at him. Their eyes met and he smiled at her. “We’re almost there?”

“Where?” Hermione muttered confused but he just smiled again. “Come.”

They had almost reached the top of the boulder at the opposite side of the lake by now, where large bushes of wild rhododendron were spreading among the trees. Their thick, evergreen leaves were covered by a glittering crust of ice and countless little icicles hung down from the frozen moss that covered the wizened old branches.

Hermione looked around in wonder. She had never seen this place before. Slowly and constantly the ground had led upwards, and then, suddenly and ruggedly it fell off towards the lake.

Severus took her arm. “Look out. Don’t step too close to the edge,” he told her softly, “you might slip in the snow.”

He led her over towards a stone bench that was almost completely surrounded by the large bushes of rhododendron, and partly arched by their overhanging branches – like an arbour of ice.

Time seemed to stand still in this quiet – secret – place and in the pale light of early morning it appeared all the more mysterious. Hermione felt oddly reminded of Ice-Queen’s Castle.  

Severus wiped the middle part of the stone bench free of snow. It was of old, pale grey granite and its edges were likewise covered by iced moss. The huge, thick slab was partly cracked with a long split.

“It’s probably quite cold,” he said apologetically, “but one has a wonderful view across the lake of the castle from up here. Wouldn’t you like to sit and watch the sunrise?”

Hermione could not help but stare at Severus. She had never ever expected him to act like this. When she did not respond, he added nervously. “You needn’t, if you don’t wish to, of course. It’s probably far too cold anyway. I just thought –” he trailed off.

“It’s perfect,” she told him softly.

His eyes lit up at her words. “It’s my favourite place,” he told her. “It can’t be seen from the castle. I don’t know whether the place is enchanted or if it’s just because of the trees. I discovered it by surprise.”

Hermione sat down on the bench and noticed there was only very little room between the two piles of snow at both ends. When Severus took a seat beside her, they were sitting so close to each other that she felt his arm brush along hers. She did not flinch, nor did she lean back, when his knee nudged softly against hers, too, but she held her breath. Trying to calm her rushing heartbeat, she looked down at their knees and legs, resting against each other.

Severus followed her gaze, and then looked up at her. “Do you mind?” he asked softly and she shook her head. “No,” she answered just as softly, “I don’t mind.”

There could have easily been more room, if he had cleared a little more of the bench of snow. Hermione wondered if he had not done so on purpose. “Do you come up here often?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Yes,” he hesitated, “but always – alone. I’ve never shown this place to anyone else before.”

She got the hidden meaning in his words and blushed slightly. “Ohh – But you wanted to show it to me?” she muttered in a mixture of joy and embarrassment.

“Yes,” his voice was barely a whisper, and she did not dare to speak aloud either.

“Why?” she muttered softly.

He was quiet for so long that she did not expect an answer anymore and almost flinched when he finally spoke.

“Géraldine,” he whispered and she looked up at him. His dark eyes locked with hers. “There’s something, I’d like to ask you,” he began hesitatingly.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Thanks to everyone, who reviewed to the last one or left a kudo. And yes, I know that I’m mean. :)

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Hermione held her breath. Severus’ eyes still rested on hers. He seemed to be very nervous, probably even more than she was. She wondered, if he had kissed any other girl before. Given his nervousness and hesitation, he most probably had not. It was almost sweet to see him like this, but the tension was barely endurable.

After a few seconds though, he averted his eyes from hers and looked across the frozen lake. “You’re not from Beauxbatons, are you?” he muttered all of a sudden.

Her head snapped up in alarm. This was not what she had expected at all. “How do you know?” she gasped.

He turned his head to look at her once more. “You have not a bit of a French accent – Géraldine – ” he smiled, emphasising the name. “I bet you are just as British as I am.”

“I –I –I, you’re right, I am,” she stammered, confused.

His smile widened at that. “I knew it! Were do you come from?”

Hermione swallowed hard at this. “I can’t tell you, Severus. I’m sorry. I can’t, I promised Dumbledore not to tell anyone.”

At this his smile faded. “Is it this what made you so sad yesterday?” he asked softly and reached for her hand, which was resting on her knee.

When his fingers closed around hers, she flinched slightly, but did not draw her hand back. Nervously she looked at him and nodded.

“Yes, but please don’t press me about it. I can’t tell you. Really – and I don’t want to lie to you –” she muttered desperately.

He squeezed her hand very gently at this. “You needn’t, I won’t ask anymore. I promise. But if you ever wish to speak about it – I’ll be there to listen –”

They fell into silence again. After a while she whispered, “I would tell you if I could, Severus, but it’s impossible. Believe me. Oh please, don’t be mad at me.”

Once again he squeezed her hand softly. “I’m not mad at you.”

She looked up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

This seemed to catch him completely off-guard. He flushed bright red and smiled shyly, but happily, at her.

“Would you mind being Potions partners with me?” he asked all of a sudden and she flinched with surprise. “No, not at all, Severus! That would be fun!”

“Yes, I suppose so, Géraldine,” he smiled, but hesitated. “If you’re not French, you probably made up that name, didn’t you?”

Hermione blanched, she did not know what to answer to this, and stared down to her knees. Severus pressed her hand once again. “Your name most likely isn’t Géraldine, is it?” he asked carefully.

Hermione’s mind whizzed with thoughts. What was she supposed to answer? Didn’t he have a right to know?

Slowly she lifted her head and looked straight into his black eyes. They held an amount of such deep affection that she felt really bad for keeping the truth from him. She did not want to lie to him. It seemed so wrong. She wanted him to know at least this small part of the truth. She would not tell him her real name, just let him know, ‘Géraldine’ was a fake one. She would not give away too much by that, would she?

“No, it’s not,” she mumbled finally.

A smile spread across his face. “What is it then?” he murmured, but she averted her eyes from his.

“Please, I want to know your real name at least. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I just want to call you by your real name, when we’re alone – like this,” he whispered, “Please –”

Hermione hesitated. Could she really dare to tell him? The hurt look in his eyes clung at her heart. She could not resist the silent plea in them.

”Hermione,” she muttered, barely audibly. “My name is Hermione.”

“Hermione –” he whispered her name as if he wanted to taste the sound of it on his lips and she smiled. It felt good to finally hear her name again.

OO

Down in his bed in the dungeons, Severus Snape’s eyes flew open in alarm. He had been awoken by the sound of his own voice calling the Granger-girl by her first name.

‘Hermione –’ Well, calling was probably not quite correct – muttering – would be more precise, he supposed.

With horror he realised that his younger self had not been quite honest about his question. Actually he had planned to ask something completely different, but had not had the courage in the end.

Well, he could only hope that he would not get over his shyness before they had found a way to get that girl back into the correct time.

The idea of having to face Hermione Granger in class, after he had snogged her senseless as a teenager, was kind of worrying – disturbing – terrifying to be precise.

Thoughtfully he stared down at his left hand. He had clearly felt it reaching for her one. He had been holding hands with her in his dream, he realised with shock. This could become very big trouble. He had to know, what happened next. With a dark scowl he leaned back and closed his eyes once more – determined to fall back asleep again.

OO

Severus hated his cowardice. He had intended to ask her something completely different, but had not dared. At least he had managed to take her hand.

That was not bad either and she had not complained about it. She had even shifted her hand’s position in a way that allowed her palm to rest against his, and her fingertips closed around the back of his hand now. That was definitely a good sign, wasn’t it?

She seemed to have some interest in him, too. She had even told him her real name.

‘Hermione –’

A slight smile played around his lips, when he realised that she was the only one he had shown this place to, while he was the only person who knew her real name. Well, Dumbledore knew it probably, too, but that was something different. He was a teacher – the headmaster to be precise. She’d had to tell him, but she had not told her friends, neither Lily, nor that git Black or Potter the ‘living pest on a broom’, nor anyone else. Just he would call her Hermione, no one else –

Now they were sharing two secrets. For some reason this idea made him irrationally happy and increased the urge to tell her how he felt about her. She had to like him in some way. He could not have imagined all of this.

But should he really dare to kiss her? They got along so well recently and after the way Black had approached her the day before, Severus was afraid to drive her away, if he tried to kiss her now. He did not want to risk their friendship.

But he wanted to kiss her so badly. He had to think of something. Anything –

OO

Hermione tried her best to hide her disappointment.

She had been so sure, he had meant to ask something else!

She had been so sure he would kiss her, or ask her out for the next Hogsmeade weekend at the very least.

She had been so sure he had brought her up here for a special reason.

To her surprise, she did not feel uncomfortable at the idea at all. She had actually liked it and felt kind of disappointed that he had not asked her.

‘What the heck was wrong with him? Couldn’t he see that she wanted him to kiss her? Well, at least they were holding hands. That was a start, wasn’t it?’

She could not believe he was this shy, but for all it looked like he was definitely interested in her. She would have to encourage him a little. With a sigh of frustration, she shrugged her shoulders. This situation was definitely complicated.

OO

Severus, who only saw her drawing her head between her shoulders, but did not know about her thoughts, looked at her with surprise. “Are you cold?” he whispered.

“No-umm yes. Yes,” she nodded. “A little.”

Very carefully he sneaked his arm around her. “Is this better?” he whispered and smiled shyly at her.

“Umm – Yes, lots better,” she smiled and leaned into him.

He inhaled sharply, but pulled her closer, when she snuggled herself to his chest.

 “Hermione –”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad we came up here this morning.”

“Yes, me too.”

He leaned his cheek against the crown of her head and for a long time they just sat there in silence, contemplating the sunrise above the icy lake.

It was a soft, beautiful awakening of colours.

Slowly, but steadily the orange ball of sun ascended the pale blue, partly clouded morning sky, and dipped the dark treetops, the castle’s light-yellow sand-stone walls and pale grey slated roofs into its soft shining glow.

Countless sunbeams glittered across the little crusts of ice and brought out every colour beneath. It was like completing a pencil sketch with crayons – like adding light, shadow and colours to a picture that had been only black and white before.

The lake was still frozen – a vast, untouched plain of bright glittering snow.

But beautiful as this morning might be, it was definitely cold. Finally Severus lifted his head from Hermione’s to look at her. The beauty of her appearance struck him like a blow. Her chocolate-coloured curls were wild and untamed as ever. Her cheeks were slightly pink from the cold and her eyes were sparkling with mirth, when she smiled at him.

“We should probably go back to the castle,” Severus whispered after he had found his voice again. Small clouds of icy breath formed in the cold winter morning air, when he spoke. “It has to be almost breakfast time by now.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right about that, Severus,” she nodded.

Reluctantly he got to his feet and held out his hand for her.

“Come – ”

OO

Hermione’s heart jumped madly with joy. ‘He likes me – he likes me –I can’t be mistaken about this – He likes me, too!’ 

The whole way back towards the castle they were holding hands. They did not talk, while they followed the snowy path that wound itself along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

It was not necessary to talk right now.

Now that the sun was up, the walk did not take them half as long as it had before. Unfortunately.

Far too quickly they reached the foot of the hill and crossed the snow-covered front lawn. Severus walked still very close beside her.

Just when they approached the front stairs and the sound of laughter and voices reached their ears, he finally released her hand.

As soon as they stepped into the vast Entrance Hall, several heads turned in their direction. They had obviously entered at the same moment that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had decided to go to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The two fourth year Ravenclaw girls stared at them from the opposite end of the hall in complete disbelief. When they caught Hermione’s eye, they hastily dragged their gaze away from her.

From the blank looks on the other students’ faces, she could tell that they were kind of surprised, or maybe even shocked to see her enter the castle alone with Severus at this early hour. She had to admit that she understood, at least in part. Both of their faces were still pink from the cold, their eyes bright with happiness. Luckily, no-one had seen them holding hands, or had they?

Ignoring the curious glances and little whispers around them, they crossed the Entrance Hall towards the doors that led into the Great Hall.

With a shy little smile, Severus gestured her to pass the entrance first. She beamed at him and stepped forward, only to flinch back the very next second. Without either of their notice, Sirius had appeared in the doorway. With a smug little smile he stepped right into their way, his arms folded in front of his chest.

“Why hello,” he taunted, “Are we so distracted now that we don’t even watch were we’re going anymore?”

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. “I don’t know if you are distracted by anything,” she sighed dejectedly, “but I just didn’t see you. I’m sorry about that, Sirius,” she added sadly.

At that she heard a sharp intake of breath from Severus beside her. “You don’t have to apologise to him, H-er-Géraldine,” he frowned. “He stepped into your way on purpose!”

“And how would you be able to tell, Snape?” Sirius glared. “You’ve been so busy drooling over her that you were hardly in a position to notice anyone else was around.”

At that, Severus’ cheeks flushed bright red. It was hard to tell, whether this was because of fury or embarrassment. “Shut up and leave her alone, Black!” he snapped.

“Well, that’s a bit rich coming from you of all people, don’t you think so, Snape?!” Sirius spat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Severus frowned at him.

“As if you wouldn’t know, Snape? What the heck have the two of you been doing outside in the grounds at this hour.”

“That’s certainly none of your business, Black. You of all people should shut up. I’m not the one who pawed her yesterday, am I?”

“No, most obviously you did so today! You –” 

“Oh, honestly!” Hermione flew out at them. “Could the two of you stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here?!”

That turned both their attention towards her.

While Severus’ eyes were blazing and his cheeks were still flushed with cold, anger and embarrassment, Sirius looked quite the contrary of him. He was very pale, she noticed and his eyes looked quite dull and strangely red. She felt almost a little sorry for him. She had not encouraged him in any way, nor had she done anything he accused her of with Severus – yet – but he seemed to take all of this very hard and was most obviously really unhappy.

She should probably talk to him later on, but right now she was so very infuriated by his spitefulness. “Sirius,” she started carefully and touched his forearm. He shrugged her hand off with a look of disgust on his face. “Don’t touch me!” he spat.

She swallowed hard at that and drew her hand back.

“Sirius, I went for a walk on the grounds with Severus, that’s all,” she explained, but he just forced a fake laugh at that. “Oh yes, certainly –”

This time it was on Hermione to blush with anger and embarrassment. Everyone around was watching the little scene with interest. She was just grateful only very few students had stayed for the holidays, otherwise this would be even more embarrassing.

“How dare you insult her?!” Severus flew out at Sirius.

“I should be allowed to say my opinion in the matter, shouldn’t I?” Sirius glared.

“Not when it’s a bunch of rubbish,” Severus scowled.

Before the situation could get completely out of hand, James appeared next to his friend all of a sudden. All three of them had been so distracted by their argument that they had not noticed him leaving the Gryffindor table.

“Hey, Sirius,” he muttered and placed a hand on his friend’s upper arm. “Don’t make such a fuss about it. Everyone around is staring at the three of you.”

He sent a spiteful glare at Severus. “What did you do to him now, Snape?” he frowned.

This was so unfair that Hermione gasped with annoyance. “Leave him alone, James. Severus hasn’t done anything to Sirius, he..”

James looked accusingly at Hermione and nodded towards the Gryffindor table. “Lily is waiting for you over there, Géraldine. You had better go, don’t you think so?” he interrupted her mid-sentence.

Once again, she gasped with fury and started to complain, but when her eyes locked with Severus’, she saw him shaking his head. His lips formed the words ‘Don’t’ and ‘Just go’. He nodded his head in the direction of the Gryffindor table.

A slight smile formed on Hermione’s lips. He did not want her to get into a fight with her friends because of him. Although she was very infuriated by James’ impudence she nodded. For a few seconds she and Severus just looked at each other with similar smiles on their lips.

James tugged at Sirius’ arm. “Come on, ‘Sir’, “ he muttered, “That’s it. Let’s have some breakfast now.”

Sirius hung his head. “I’m not hungry,” he croaked out despondently and stormed out of the Great Hall in a hurry. With another frown at Hermione and Severus, James followed his friend.

OO

The change of years brought a change of weather along with it. At the beginning of term, unpleasantly furious blows of stormy January rain hit the many windows of Hogwarts, and the once bright white snow melted to dirty-grey patches of half-frozen mud. Snow-flurries made room for depressing showers of sleety weather and a thin layer of ice covered the stone footpaths and steps outside. They had to be more than careful, not to slip on their way towards their lessons at the greenhouses.

Matching the depressing grey weather, most students were in foul mood; but Hermione did not mind any of this.

Nothing could spoil her happiness.

Every morning, at the break of dawn, she jumped out of bed and hurried towards the library to meet with Severus.

Her heart was beating an excited rhythm, while she hurried along the still dark corridors. How much more fun was it to study along with someone, to whom knowledge meant as much as it meant to her.

But that was not the only reason that made her look forward to meeting with him. Whenever she looked into the deep blackness of his eyes, it sent shivers up and down her spine and caused a funny tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach.

She was almost sure he felt the same way about her, but he never did anything to bring a change to their relationship.

Maybe he was afraid to drive her away, if he tried to approach her. Or he was just shy. Or maybe he did not feel the same way about her as she felt about him.

But there were so many little signs that seemed to assure her of his affection. Yesterday, when she had dropped her quill to the floor and he had picked it up for her, their fingertips had brushed along each other and they had stopped in mid movement to stare at one another. The tension between them had been almost palpable. But once again the moment had passed without bringing the longingly awaited effect.

They had not held hands again since New Year’s morning, nor had he placed his arm around her shoulders, but there was a new closeness between them that could not be explained in words. She did not know how to name it, but it was definitely there.

He never called her ‘Hermione’ except for the early mornings, when they were all alone at the library; but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, whenever he called her ‘Géraldine’ now.

If he would only get over this damn shyness and kiss her. She could not be that much mistaken about his intentions, could she?

OO  

The tall, lean black-haired boy and the red-head beside him slipped silently out of the portrait-hole.

Carefully they sneaked down the steps and shrunk back against the wall, when a very familiar, tall, black-robed figure brushed past them, his cloak billowing behind him.

“What is he doing here?” Ron muttered excitedly. “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“I don’t know,” Harry frowned. “But I guess we’re to find out soon. We’ll just follow. Come on –”

With that they followed their despised Potions Master silently and unnoticed like an invisible shadow.

To their utmost confusion he headed straight for the library, where he searched the endless rows of shelves in the restricted section for some books about the various possibilities and dangers of Time-Travelling. The ones he chose were named: ‘Too Late – Too Far – Too Early’, ‘Of Time-Turners And Turns Of Time’, ‘Wearing Time Around Your Neck’ and ‘One Way Voyagers?’.

“Harry, do you think he knows, ‘when’ she is?” Ron muttered excitedly.

“I don’t know,” the addressed shrugged, “But why does he research all of this in the middle of the night? That’s kind of strange, don’t you think so? Listen! – He’s talking to someone.”

Slowly they crept forward and peered around one of the shelves to get a glimpse of the ‘person’ Snape was talking to. They almost gasped aloud at the sight that hit them.

In one of the bay-windows, sat Severus Snape, holding ‘One Way Voyagers?’ in his hand. With the other one, he was stroking the ginger fur of an all too familiar tomcat who lay curled up and purring in his lap.

“Harry – “ Ron frowned, “that’s Crookshanks.”

OO

The first Potions lesson of the year brought a surprise to the class.

Mrs Figg was her nasty, ill-tempered self again and told them in disturbingly sharp words that the final semester had now begun and that some of them would have to work very hard if they wanted to pass the graduation exam at the end of term. Frank seemed to shrink in his chair under her beady eyes.

Lily giggled and patted his back. “Don’t worry Frankie, she won’t snap your head off.”

“I’m quite sure that she could. Do you think her bite is poisonous, by the way?” James whispered and she giggled.

“I suggest, you pay attention to the lesson, Miss Evans, Mr. Potter,” Figg snapped. “Five points off Gryffindor. Each.”

All the Gryffindors groaned at that. What a wonderful start to the new semester. But Figg obviously had not understood their whispering, or it would have been more than five points, and a detention for sure.

“Today we will brew a potion to reduce a fever. You had best work in pairs as there are a lot of ingredients to prepare for this. Stay in the seating arrangements, or choose a partner you like. I don’t care as long as the results are satisfactory.”

Hermione felt a jolt of nervousness rip through her body at the Potions Mistress’ words. Very carefully she glanced towards the Slytherin side of the dungeon.

Severus was looking at her as well. For some seconds their eyes locked and searched for agreement in the other one’s, then Hermione smiled and nodded silently.

Then - to everyone’s surprise, Severus Snape left his seat next to Lucius Malfoy and took all his working materials and cauldron over towards the Gryffindor side.

Even Professor Figg seemed to be at a loss for words for once. “Is there a problem, Mr. Snape?” she frowned, after she had recovered from the first surprise.

“No, Professor, I’m fine.”

“May I ask what you’re doing?”

“Well, you told us to team up for this potion and I decided to work along with Miss Henshler.”

After a moment of shocked silence there was some sniggering among the Slytherins, but under the beady stare of the Potions Mistress, it quickly died away.

Nonetheless, Hermione and Severus were very well aware of the confused and suspicious glances their house-mates cast in their direction.

Pretending to be oblivious to the curious staring, Severus slipped into the seat next to Hermione. “Hi,” he mouthed silently.

She smiled back at him. “Hi.”

“Nice to be the centre of interest, isn’t it?” he mocked.

“Lovely,” Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

He grinned at her and she carefully returned the smile.

“What the heck are you doing here, Snape?” Sirius hissed in the seat behind them.

Very slowly Severus turned his head in his direction. “Well, I believe I’m going to brew Fever-reducing Potion with Géraldine,” he sneered.

Sirius opened his mouth to give a spiteful reply, but Remus nudged him in the ribs with his elbow. “Hey, calm down, will you. No need to risk losing any more house points this lesson.”

“But that bloody git –” Sirius started, but was cut short by the sharp voice of Professor Figg. “If you would kindly name some antipyretic ingredients, Mr. Black?”

Sirius’ face fell. “Ewm – lime-blossoms,” he mumbled, “ –and erw –”

“Yes, that’s right,” Figg snapped, “but there are far more plants required for this potion and please use the correct Latin names, Mr. Black, will you?”

Sirius flushed at this and once again, Hermione felt a little sorry for him. “I don’t know, Professor,” he muttered.

When Hermione turned her head to look at Severus she noticed the triumphant glint in his eyes. Well, she could not really blame him for that, after all that had happened between the two boys.

“That’s no good,” Figg sneered. “No good at all. You will have to catch up on that. Go to the board then and pay attention. Mr. Snape, please tell Mr. Black which ingredients are required.”

All the Gryffindors, even Hermione, flinched at that. From all the students in the classroom, she had to pick out him for that task. But on the other hand, it was no surprise that she offered her favourite student an opportunity to show off.

From the amused twinkle in his eyes, Hermione could tell that Severus just happened to love this task.

“Well,” he started slowly, “first there are lime-blossoms, of course, as Mr. Black already said. The correct Latin name for them is flores tiliae. Further ingredients are sambucus nigra as common elder, daisies – that’s bellis perennis, flores verbasci as mullein, bitterwort as arum maculatum, bark of populus tremula – that’s trembling poplar, roots of liquorice as tragopon pratensis, blossoms of roses –” 

When he caught breath to continue, Hermione nudged him softly into the ribs and rolled her eyes. “Leave it, Sev, you’re showing off horribly,” she giggled.

He looked surprised at first, but could not help but smile. “Well, those are probably the most important ones,” he announced as he leaned back in his seat.

Hermione watched him with an amused side glance.

“Do you have anything to add to this list, Miss Henshler?” Professor Figg glared at her, obviously annoyed by the fact that she had dared to distract her favourite student. 

“Yes, Hermione smiled sweetly, “there are also centaurium umbellatum – the umbellate flower of centaury and menyanthes trifoliata – the trefoil used for this potion.”

Severus raised his eyebrows appreciatively at her and she could not help but smile at him.

With that, Sirius started to list the ingredients to the board and the class began copying them down. All the while Hermione was well aware of Severus’ constant nearness. She could almost sense his body-heat in spite of the short distance between them. Since he was sitting to her right side and was left handed, their hands and elbows touched several times while they copied the list.

OO

After this they started to work on the potion.

Hermione noticed quite soon that they got along very well together. Each of them was concentrated on the task, but still found time to send several sidelong glances at the other.

“Would you pass me the daisy-roots, please, Géraldine?” Severus smiled with emphasise on her ‘name’.

“Here you are, Severus,” she grinned and handed him the small plants.

They continued to tease each other this way for some time. Hermione pulverised the poplar bark, while Severus rasped the roots of liquorice.

Finally she put the pestle down and picked up her wand instead. Slowly and carefully she added small pinches of poplar bark powder to the pale-yellow shimmering potion until it became a very faint green.

Severus watched her with a smile. “You’re bloody good at this,” he muttered appreciatively, while she was stirring the potion carefully in tiny circles.

Hermione could not help but blush at the compliment. She had never expected to hear him praise her skills at potions brewing.

“Well, thank you, Severus, you’re not too bad either,” she retorted with a grin, which became a muffled giggle all of a sudden.

Severus raised his eyebrows at her. “What?”

“I – I guess, it’s because I had a bloody – erw, good Potions Master back at my old school, you know?” she blurted out.

Severus just shrugged. “Well, I can’t see what’s so funny about that –” he frowned in confusion, but Hermione just broke into another fit of giggles, what earned her a detention for disturbing the lesson, and a death glare from Professor Figg.

OO

They had barely left the classroom, when the inquisition started. James, Peter and Frank wanted to know why she had worked along with Snape. None of them was very pleased about it. Remus tried his best not to show his dislike for Severus, whereas Sirius was in the foulest mood she had ever seen him. He neither spoke to her, nor did he look in her direction at all.

Hermione sent a pleading glance in the direction of her friend, and after a few minutes Lily helped her to escape the nosy questions. “Didn’t you intend to put that dung-bomb into Lucius’ cauldron, Peter?” she asked casually.

That got the boys’ attention away from ‘Snape the greasy git’ and Peter promised that he would try to put their plan into action the next potions lesson.

Hermione sent a relieved glance at Lily and rolled her eyes.

OO

Later, in Herbology, the two girls were transplanting some small lavender bushes into larger pots at a working table that was a little apart from the others. Lily made sure they were safely out of earshot, before she began. “Well, Géraldine, about what happened in Potions today –”

“Yes, what is it?” Hermione asked nervously.

“Are you really sure, you want your mmm – sympathy for Snape become this public?”

“Why shouldn’t I?“

Lily did not look at her, but stared at the lavender plant in her hand. “There are rumours, you know ..?”

Hermione put her trowel down and looked at her friend. “Rumours?”

Lily sent a careful side glance in her direction. “Well, everyone says that – that you have a thing for each other –” 

“Oh – do they?” Hermione frowned and picked up her trowel again to stuff some more dragon dung into the pot

“?Emhm,” Lily nodded, “ and now –”

“Yes” Hermione asked carefully. “What’s now, Lily?”

“Now they will probably believe that those rumours are true.”

“Honestly, Lily, I didn’t think you were so stuck up and full of prejudice,” Hermione frowned.

“I’m not. I just want you to be careful, that’s all. James and Frank overheard a conversation between Malfoy and Nott at the Quidditch field yesterday. They were talking about you – and Snape and they –”

Once again she glanced carefully over her shoulder, but no one seemed to be around.

Nonetheless Lily lowered her voice to a whisper when she continued: “They said some really mean things about you. They said you were having it off with Snape, but he was just taking advantage of you and wouldn’t really care. They said he wanted to get back at Sirius and was just – you know – having a little fun with you – and that he’d dump you soon.” 

Hermione stared at her open-mouthed.

Lily looked kind of nervous at that. “That’s not true, Géraldine, is it?” she asked worriedly. “You aren’t sleeping with him, are you?”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed with anger at the meanness of those rumours. Lily, who supposed this anger to be directed at her, stuttered nervously, “I know it’s quite personal. I wouldn’t have asked, normally. I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

Hermione’s eyes softened immediately. “I’m not mad at you, Lily,” she told her friend, “I know you’re not asking out of curiosity – and no, I’m not sleeping with Severus. Certainly not,” she added with a sigh. “We haven’t even kissed – yet.”

“Oh,” Lily sounded extremely relieved about this revelation. “But you’re planning to, aren’t you?” she asked with a careful side glance at her friend.

This time the flushing of Hermione’s cheeks was clearly caused by embarrassment. “What?” she asked nervously.

Lily’s smile widened into a grin. “Kissing him, Géraldine, what else did you think?” she remarked dryly.

“Oh, em yes,” Hermione nodded hastily, “kissing of course – we’re speaking of kissing here.” 

“I think you should be – very – careful indeed, Géraldine,” Lily muttered, shaking her head and focused back onto her lavender plant. 

OO

The light-brown feather quill scratched across the parchment in a hurry.

Hermione was almost desperate by now. In less than ten minutes, she was supposed to be down in the dungeons to serve her detention and though she frantically tried to accomplish her homework, she would not be able to finish the half of it, before she had to go. This was going to be a very long night.

She did not even look up, when Severus entered the library and headed for her table. “Hey, Géraldine, shouldn’t you be down at the Potions classroom for detention right now?” he asked.

“Oh quit it, will you?!” she flew out at him.

His eyes widened with surprise at her sharp words. “But – Géraldine, I didn’t mean to taunt you.”

He pulled out the chair next to hers. “Honestly, I just wanted to remind you of the time, so you wouldn’t get into more trouble,” he stuttered, taken aback.

Very slightly, he touched her shoulder. “Is everything all right, Hermione?” he asked softly so only she could hear him. “You look worried?”

“Oh, damn it,“ she cursed, frustrated and threw her quill onto the half-finished essay.

“Yes! Yes, I am worried, Severus!” she sighed. “I have to draw that stupid Astronomy map, complete those tasks for History Of Magic and I still haven’t started my Transfiguration essay yet. How am I supposed to do all this?! It’ll probably keep me up the whole night. Who knows when the old Figg will let me off again?! My detention starts in about –”  she glanced at her watch, “ten minutes!” she gasped. “Oh, damn! I’m really going to be in trouble this time!”

To her utmost surprise, Severus rubbed her shoulder with a tender gesture and gave her a kind smile. “Don’t you worry about that, just leave it to me.”

At her confused frown, his smile widened. “I’ll do it for you. Your homework,“ he explained at her blank look and added with a grin, “well not that Transfiguration essay, as McGonagall would recognise my handwriting, for sure. It’s probably better, if you copy mine later on. But I can do those History tasks. Professor Binns never collects the essays anyway. He can’t grab them,” he sneered. “You just need to read them aloud. What’s that?”

He turned her parchment around to look at the half-finished text.

“Oh, erw,” Hermione blushed, “that’s my Potions essay, but you certainly wouldn’t –”

“Why not? he grinned, “I guess, I’ll certainly be able to manage this. Don’t you think so?”

“O-Of course you will – I’ve no doubt about that –”

“Fine then, I’ll write it. I’ll continue from the point you stopped on an extra parchment. You just have to add it to your text later on. Figg wouldn’t appreciate my handwriting on your homework,” he smiled.

“Hurry off, now – and don’t worry, I’ll give you those essays in the morning, before class. No, even better, I’ll send you an owl when I’m done with them. So you can copy the Potions and Transfiguration essay later on tonight and I’ll draw that Astronomy map, also. For those few words that need to be added, I can probably imitate your handwriting.”

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. “You’d really do this for me?”

He smiled at her, his black eyes filled with warmth. “Of course I will, Hermione,” he whispered.

“Oh Severus,” she swallowed, “that’s so sweet of you.”

At this, Severus blushed a deep shade of crimson. “Oh, erw, it’s no big deal, … I .. I …”

“Yes, it is,” Hermione smiled and before he even noticed what she was up to, she leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Severus.”

Just that moment, the door to the library creaked open.

A/N: Don’t be mad at me – I love cliff-hangers.

In an old book about medicinal herbs, all the ingredients I mentioned are said to have antipyretic effects. Lime-blossoms are sometimes still used in this way in form of tea, but I wouldn’t relay on all of the ingredients, I suppose.

The joke about Severus ‘rasping the roots of liquorice’ is pointless in English. In German it would be ‘Süßholzraspeln’, which is a phrase for ’whispering sweet nothings’. It’s most likely a lame joke, but I just couldn’t resist, when I found liquorice among the ingredients with antipyretic effects in said book.

Thank you very much for reading and commenting this story. It means a lot to me. I promise to put the next chapter very soon.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Severus Snape was sitting in his study, looking at his old graduation-photo again. Carefully he searched the rows of former fellow students for a very special face that appeared in his every dream nowadays, bringing out new, disturbing developments of their relationship every time. He had reached a point, at which he feared to fall asleep at night because of the dreams he might be facing. These dreams were worse than any nightmare ever, as they brought happiness such as he had never known, and the heartache of being alone again when he awoke.

He had already tried to keep the dreams away with the help of a very strong Dreamless Sleep Potion, but this had not helped in the slightest. These were no dreams in an ordinary sense, they were memories – and therefore unaffected by the potion.

With a grave sigh he put the photograph down. She was still not in there but he knew that she was attending the Hogwarts of those days and would appear in his graduation photo soon, if he did not find a way to bring her back.

He did not know what he feared more – to watch her developing a relationship with him in the past, or having to face her in the present again. He had promised to do her potions essay and other homework today – in the past. This was almost a joke in itself. He had never thought to see the day when Hermione Granger would allow anyone else do her homework. For all he knew about Time Travelling, she had to remember him – from the present – and would therefore know it was her futureProfessor who did her Potions essay that night. With a dark frown he wondered if she might laugh at him for this. But she seemed to be so nice, so kind and adorable… He wished he could have talked to her right now. But then, on the other hand, it might have been a quite awkward conversation.

Nonetheless he missed her. He missed the precious hours of studying with her in the early mornings. He missed the sunlight gleaming in her mass of chocolate-coloured curls and the sparkles of mirth dancing in her eyes when she laughed – the feel of her arms around his waist when she had embraced him on New Year’s morning on top of the Astronomy tower – and sometimes, in a vulnerable state of drowsiness, in the brief unreal moments of falling asleep, he allowed himself to think of the possibility of finding her acting the very same way around him if she were back in their own time again.

But fully awake he had to admit to himself that these hopes were pointless. He might be falling for her, but she would never ever return his feelings, if she was ever to get back into the present again. What was all this supposed to lead into? The oddities of the Time Travel accident really got to him. He clearly ‘remembered’ his former self’s torrent of emotion, when she had placed that slight kiss on his cheek. He had been surprised by her reaction back then, but from today’s point of view it had completely, utterly stunned him. If she really knew it was him – her future Professor, whom she despised – why had she kissed his cheek then?

He was so very confused by all of this. He had awoken to the soft warm contact of her lips on his skin, but not before he had noticed Black and Lupin entering the library, and since he knew this dream was mirroring past happenings just as the other ones had, he could only hope Hermione would not get into any trouble because of him now. What chaos –

OO

When Severus descended the narrow, spiral staircase that led down from the owlery, he felt a mad happiness that made his heart jump and flutter in his chest. He had just sent her an owl.

Of course, it was not a love letter in common sense. He had only finished her homework, but he had added a small note to it.

He had written every word very carefully to make it easier for her to read his handwriting, and had drawn the Astronomy map with all its moons and stars and the exact distances between them very neatly. All the time he had thought of that little kiss she had placed on his cheek, and he had not been able to wipe the happy smile off his face. He had been at a loss for words about that spontaneous display of affection, but his heart had beat madly with joy.

It was almost eleven o’clock and she was probably back from her detention by now. Figg would not keep her busy for more than three hours, would she?

For a brief moment he reconsidered the possibility of heading down to the potions classroom to see if Hermione was still there. He did not doubt that Figg had made her do something really nasty and she was most likely quite depressed by now. Maybe he could walk her back to Gryffindor tower and make her feel a little better.

But no, he was not sure if she would feel comfortable in his company after what happened at the library earlier. Black and Lupin had entered the room just that moment, when she had kissed him on the cheek. Lupin had not said much, but Severus had noticed the hurt expression in his eyes. Black on the contrary, had looked at them with such hatred that Severus had been certain that another fight would ensue. Well, he could not blame him for – that. If things had been the other way round and he had witnessed her kissing Black on the cheek, he would not have liked it one bit either. Certainly, neither of them had any right to be this jealous about her, she had not ever dated either of them, but he could not help his feelings and Black was obviously just as affected by her as he was.

Hermione had been quite uncomfortable with the whole situation. He had noticed her tense at her friends’ entry. Most obviously she had feared another scene, but for some reason, Black had suddenly turned towards Lupin and had pretended to be completely oblivious to her presence. He had completely ignored them. As far as Severus was concerned, this was not a good sign at all, and he could only hope her friends would not give her a hard time now because of him. He knew quite well how that felt. Lucius acted as if Severus had turned traitor on the house of Slytherin itself by just speaking to her. He had incited their roommates and some other house members against him. Mellon McNair did not even speak to him anymore.

Not that he minded. She had been after him for the last three years and it was a relief to finally get some room. She was hanging around with Nott now, who did not seem to mind at all. Mellon was quite a pretty girl, though. With her auburn, curly hair and brown eyes she did not look bad at all. Severus had dated her a few times and had even kissed her twice, but he had always felt uncomfortable. She had never made him feel the way Hermione did. When Hermione was with him, he was so very happy. Nervous and terribly insecure, yes, but happy. And when she was not around him, he missed her. Constantly. He watched her at meals in the Great Hall and wished he could sit with her, talk to her and make her smile, when she stared into space so absentmindedly sometimes. She was probably thinking of her old school then, he supposed. She presumably missed her friends. He had noticed that she never got any mail, which was odd since at least her parents should have written to her. She never talked about her old school, or why she had left it in the middle of term, and sometimes she looked so sad. He wondered if she might be hiding from someone or something like that. But he would not ask her, if she did not want to talk about it. He had promised her not to do so.

He thought of her before he fell asleep and quite often, he even dreamed of her. The early hours of morning, when they were all alone at the library, was his favourite time of day and working together with her in class was wonderful, too. Quite often he had almost asked her out for the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, but had not dared to do so at the last minute.

Neither her friends nor his own seemed to appreciate the fact that they got along so well with each other. He was not afraid of the trouble it might bring for himself, but he did not want to separate her from her new-found friends when she was still suffering over the loss of her old ones. This was all so very stupid. Couldn’t they just leave them alone? He was very well aware of the nasty rumours that were flying around, but could not really do anything against them. His every attempt to speak up for her made the whole mess even worse.

OO

When Hermione returned to her dorm after the detention, she was completely worn out. Figg had made her scrub a couple of old cauldrons that had some burnt-on residue on their bottoms, for more than two hours. Without magic.

Although it was quite late already Lily was still up, waiting for her. She lay on her bed on her stomach, sorting photos into a large album, and looked up at her friend’s entrance.

“An owl arrived for you, Géraldine. It’s one of the school owls.” There was an undoubtedly curious tone in her voice. “I untied the rolls of parchment from its leg, but it refused to leave. It has obviously been told to wait for an answer.”

Hermione sighed and placed her bag on the chair beside her bed. Lily would probably want to hear more about this uncharacteristic homework-service.

A large grey owl sat at the foot of her bed. A ring at its leg identified it as one of the Hogwarts’ owls. She had never seen such a big owl before, but a smaller one would not have made it up to Gryffindor Tower with all these rolls of parchment that lay at the foot of her bed.

“Did you expect any post?” Lily asked casually.

‘Here it goes,’ Hermione sighed inwardly. “Ewwm, well, yes. It’s from Severus,” she muttered.

At that news Lily gave up the attempt to appear only casually interested and stared at her roommate, her mouth hanging slightly open. It was such a silly sight that Hermione started to giggle.

“Don’t say he is sending you such an oversized love letter?!”

Hermione could not help but blush at the idea. “No,” she giggled, “it’s no love letter! It the Astronomy map and some other homework I couldn’t finish before my detention started tonight.”

Lily’s confusion did not fade at this, “Did Snape do them for you?!” she asked, taken aback.

Hermione just nodded.

“Wow,” Lily muttered.

With a happy grin Hermione turned her attention once again towards the large grey owl which was still patiently waiting for her response. She picked up an apple from her bedside table and sliced it into small bits. The grey owl started hooting softly when Hermione offered him the reward and Miss Grey, Lily’s cat, watched the scene with respect at a safe distance. She did not exactly trust this large feathered creature and the strange noise it made.

Hermione spread the rolls of parchment across her bed. Carefully wrapped into the neatly drawn Astronomy map was a short note on an extra piece of parchment.

Dear Géraldine,

I hope the old Figg didn’t plague you too much with her detention. Here are the Astronomy map and the History tasks. I tried to keep the Transfiguration and Potions essays as brief as possible, without leaving the important facts out. This way it won’t take you long to add the missing text to your own. Are you still coming to the library tomorrow morning?

I’ll be there. Sleep well,

Severus

OO

Down at his Slytherin dormitory, Severus was impatiently waiting for the owl to return. Already dressed in his dark-blue pyjamas, his hands folded behind his neck, he stared up into the velvet-clad canopy atop his bed. His black tomcat Nossy watched him intensely out of his slightly narrowed, yellow eyes. He seemed to sense Severus’ nervousness quite well and did not purr at the moment.

When Severus was just about to give up waiting for an answer, there was the sharp sound of talons tapping against the glass. Immediately he jumped to his feet and hurried towards the window nook. Wind-ruffled and wet with rain, the large grey owl he had sent to Gryffindor Tower earlier slipped through the thick green velvety curtains. Severus’ heartbeat quickened at the sight of the small note that was tied to its leg. She had actually written back. Nervously he untied the little message and sent the bird off into the night again.

Lucius, who was reading in his own bed, turned his head to look at his roommate. His pale malfoy-blond eyebrows rose in mock surprise at the sight of the letter in Severus’ hand. “Oh this wouldn’t be a message from little Miss smutty Gryffindor the Mudblood, would it?”

Severus grit his teeth with anger. He did not respond to the insult though and climbed back into his bed as quick as possible. Before the other boy could make any more nasty comments, Severus drew the curtains shut and cast a complete silencing spell around his bed once again. Inside the privacy of his so-enchanted four-poster he read the note and told Nossy all about the day’s happenings and his confused thoughts and feelings. Slowly he felt the tension leave his body. The pleasant sound of his tomcat’s purring eased him out of his anger. With a slight smile he finally fell asleep, the precious note clutched tightly in his hand.

Dear Severus,

Thank you once again for your help. You can’t even imagine, how glad I am that I won’t have to stay up a few more hours to finish the map and essays now. I only hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you. Don’t worry about the detention. It wasn’t too bad. I think I better get busy now. See you at the library tomorrow at the usual time.

Sleep well yourself,

H.

OO

Meeting at the library the next morning was a little awkward at first, but once they were seated in their usual places and started to work on the History chapter they had set themselves as a task for today, all reluctance was gone. They got along as well as ever with one another, but once or twice Hermione noticed Severus looking at her from the corner of his eye when he supposed her to be busy.

They discussed the chapter and took notes as usual, but did not mention the little kiss with one word. Severus because he did not want to spoil the happy imagination it could have been meant as more than a little thank you, Hermione cause she knew it had been more and did not dare to admit it.

So they carefully avoided discussing the previous evening, with the exception of Severus telling her how curious Lucius had been, when the owl had brought her letter. This made Hermione laugh. She could very well imagine that the jerk burned with anticipation to get his hands on the note.

Time seemed to pass more than quickly, and when they finally headed for the Great Hall, breakfast had already begun. The vast room was crowded with students and Hermione noticed at once that the wave of murmur was very different from that of other mornings. Nervously she glanced at Severus beside her, but he just shrugged. Slowly both of them headed for their House tables. Hermione noticed no one seemed to care about the fact that Severus and she had entered the Great Hall together. Relieved that for once the excited whispering did not seem to be centred around them, she slipped into her seat next to Lily, who told her the news.

“Oh Géraldine, there you are. Couldn’t part from the library once again, could you? Just think, we’re going to have a ball on Valentine’s Day! Dumbledore just told us. Only students from the third year on are allowed to participate. First and second years only when invited by an older student. Since the ball will be on a Tuesday the first three classes of the following day will be free. Isn’t that great news?! Dumbledore said that the last ball of this kind was held ten years ago. Aren’t we lucky to have one at our final year at Hogwarts!? We need to look for nice dresses at our next Hogsmeade weekend. What do you say?” she asked excitedly.

“But Lily,” Hermione complained, “what shall I buy a dress for? I don’t even know if I’ll be going to the ball.”

“No buts, of course you’ll go,” her friend interrupted her impatiently. “We’ll both go. And we’ll dance with each of our dear boys here. Oh, we will have a great time, just see?!”

Hermione was not too convinced of this, though, and a look in the direction of the boys was not helpful to change her opinion in the matter, either.

Sirius stared at his plate, chewing his lip, a dark expression on his face. Remus looked out of the window as if he were suddenly immensely interested in the clouds outside. Frank exchanged some glances with Alice at the Ravenclaw table, and James did not take his eyes off Lily. Only Peter did not look much affected by the news, when he told them that he would use the next Hogsmeade trip to finally buy some new dung bombs at Zonko’s for the prank he still had to play on Lucius Malfoy.

OO

The rain pattered steadily against the shop windows and made all the pretty dress robes inside blur into nothing but various patches of colour. The merry sound of laughter drifted into the rain outside. Two young girls, one a red-head, the other with chocolate coloured hair, stood on small wooden foot benches to get their robes charmed into the perfect length and size.

The robes of the brown-haired girl were dark midnight-blue silk and had a v-neck of just the right depth to look charming, but not too revealing. The soft silk was cut to follow the young woman’s curves and to show off her figure in a pretty way. Except for the v-neck, there was not much skin to be seen. The long sleeves were cut to cover half of her hands as well. The smooth, silky cloth widened only in the last inches from the wrist to the cuffs. Likewise the long robes flared gently but steadily and finally fell to the floor in rich folds to give the owner’s feet room to dance. Since the folds started a few inches higher at the back, the robes appeared to be longer there than at the front although both ended two inches above the ground so not to sweep the floor.

The other girl, the one with the dark-red hair, wore exactly the same dress robes in a different colour. The deep ruby-red silk seemed to sparkle at her every move. In addition to her dark-red hair it was a stunning, spectacular sight. Insecurely she checked her appearance in the huge wood-framed mirror in the back of the shop.

“What do you think, Géraldine?” she asked nervously as she looked over her shoulder at her friend. “Would you mind if I bought the same dress robes as you?”

The addressee climbed down from her foot bench and approached her friend with a smile.

“No, not at all Lily. They look completely different in another colour. We can very well wear the same cut.”

Lily run down her hands across the smooth silky cloth and smiled. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” Hermione agreed with a smile. “ – and you can certainly wear these ones. You look simply – stunning – in red, but won’t you try the same dress robes in emerald green, before you make a final decision? I’m sure they would look beautiful with your eyes.”

Lily looked at her in surprise, then giggled all of a sudden. “I should have known. Why won’t you wear the Slytherin ones? I’m sure, your ‘dearest’ Sevi would love that sight.”

Hermione blushed at that and turned her head to see if anyone had heard the comment. To her relief everyone else seemed to be too busy with their own search for dresses.

”Shht – Lily,” Hermione hissed nervously, “don’t say things like that aloud. Someone might hear you. And green isn’t my colour anyway,” she added hastily.

“Not your colour, hu?” Lily grinned and winked an eye at her. “Well if you say so. I’m not giving James a heart attack by showing up, wearing the same colour as the Slytherin Quidditch team.”

“No,“ Hermione mocked, “you chose Gryffindor colours instead. Honestly, Lily, you look truly beautiful in red, but are you really sure you want to make such a furore?”

“Mm-maybe you’re right about that,” the other girl grinned. “I would hardly be able to make out with James, if everyone is staring at me.”

Hermione rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “Honestly, Miss Evans,” she sniffed in her best McGonagall kind of voice, “I cannot tolerate such inappropriate behaviour.”

“You of all people should be careful, Miss Henshler” Lily snapped amazingly Figg-like and tapped her index finger against Hermione’s chest, “you are turning my favourite student’s head around, you are distracting him right in front of my eyes and putting the poor boy through a great deal of misery. This has to stop! Do you hear me?”

“I’m so sorry Ma’am,” Hermione snorted, “but the ‘poor boy’ is putting me through just the same misery at the moment, and I’m definitely planning to change something about it.”

At that Lily hugged her and both girls broke into a fit of giggles.

“Na, na, na, young ladies,” the threatening voice of the shop owner interrupted their laughter. “Be careful with the dress robes, will you?”

Lily turned her head to look at the old woman. “I’m sorry, Miss Stitch.” She smoothed the material of her robes down with her hand. “Could I please try the green robes as well?” she smiled.

OO

A quarter hour later, both girls left the shop with two equally sized bags of brown paper that had been charmed to resist the rain. Hermione had decided for the midnight-blue robes, whereas Lily had bought the emerald green ones. She had to admit that they suited her far better than the intense red robes. They were beautiful in a completely different sense and far more elegant. The soft silk material glittered mysteriously at her every move, and brought to mind a deep, bottle-green river, or the soft rustling of leaves in the treetops of the Forbidden Forest; instead of the flickering flames of a fireplace watched through a glass of red wine. The colour matched her eyes perfectly and made a charming contrast to the dark red of her hair.

When they still hesitated to step into the rain outside, they suddenly spotted the boys amidst the crowd of umbrellas and hooded figures in the High Street. James waved his hand to catch their attention and Sirius pointed at the nearby shield of Honeydukes. Lily and Hermione nodded in agreement. Saving their heads with the hoods of their cloaks, all of them hurried through the gusts of rain into the sweet shop across the street.

Indoors, all of the school seemed to be assembled. One could hardly move inside the narrow shop with all its shelves loaded with sweets. The smell of wet clothing filled the air and mixed with the various scents of confectionery. It was almost impossible to hear the sound of one’s own voice in this crowd of laughing, hustling and bustling students.

The old couple who ran the shop had some trouble to fulfil every wish.

When the group walked round a large shelf of sweet boxes, Sirius suddenly bumped into another boy, who dropped the box of chocolate frogs he had been carrying.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” Sirius started, but froze in mid-sentence when he recognized the other boy.

“Snape,” he spat, “what the heck is a overgrown bat like you doing at a sweet-shop?”

“Watch it Black,” Severus sneered, “I’ve run out of my blood-flavour lollies and might go for some human blood instead. What are you going to buy anyway?” he scoffed, “Dog biscuits?” He picked up the box of chocolate frogs with a wave of his wand. Sirius, who took this as a threat, immediately grabbed his own wand.

Before things could get out of hand, Sirius was dragged away by James and Remus. Both boys were glaring at Severus, who just sneered back at them.

“Come,” Lily whispered to Hermione and took her arm, “we’d better go.” Hermione threw an apologetic smile at Severus. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed silently when she brushed past him along with Lily and Peter. To her surprise Severus just returned her smile, but said nothing. He then shoved himself through the crowd of students to pay for some sweets he had chosen. Hermione still stared after him, when he left the shop with a slight smile.

OO

After the crowded sweet-shop it was a relief to step into the quiet, dim atmosphere of the narrow and pleasantly empty book-store. The only other visitor, a black-haired boy in the back at the shop, looked up at the sound of the bell-ring that announced her entry. To her surprise Hermione found herself face to face with Severus once again.

“Hi,” he smiled and lowered the book he had been reading in. “Where have you left your friends?”

She returned the smile warmly, “They headed for the Quidditch shop, but I wasn’t interested to gape at the newest racing broom. I’m glad if I can avoid flying.“

“Oh – me, too,” he smiled sympathetically. “I don’t like flying very much, either.”

“I supposed so,” Hermione muttered softly and gestured in the direction of his book. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just a book about the development of potions brewing over the centuries. It’s probably quite boring to you. You wouldn’t want to read it.”

“I wouldn’t count on that. May I have a look?”

“Certainly. Here you are,” he offered the book to her and their hands touched. Hermione noticed that his skin still felt cold from the rain outside. She tried to focus her attention on the book, but could not concentrate very well. After only a few moments she passed it back to him.

“Well, it doesn’t look bad, if you ask me, but I’m not in the mood for reading right now.”

He gave her an unreadable look at this. “Well I’ll probably buy that book, but if you want to have a look around the shop, I’ll wait. We could take a walk around Hogsmeade afterwards, what do you think?”

Right that instant a heavy sheet of sleety-rain hit the shop window. Hermione could not help but giggle. “Well, a walk sounds perfectly fine to me, it’s just the weather I’m a little worried about, you know?”

Severus returned her grin with some insecurity. “Do you have a better idea then?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, I’m supposed to meet the others at the ‘Three Broomsticks’ later on. Maybe we could head there, what to you think?”

She noticed him tense at the mention of her friends and thought at first he might object, but then his face lit up all of a sudden. “Would you care for a glass of Butterbeer then?” he asked and she beamed at him. ”Oh yes, that sounds really like a good idea to me.”

“Shall we go, then?” Severus smiled. “That is, after you select your purchases, of course,” he added hastily.

Hermione hesitated. She had not really planned to buy anything. She did not want to mess with the money Professor McGonagall had kindly lent to her after all. And since she had already bought the dress robes, she certainly could not afford to buy a book she did not really need right now. She had just planned to look around the shop, but now the prospect of sitting at the pub with Severus seemed much more appealing to her.

“No, she smiled, “no I don’t want to search for a book now. Let’s go, Severus.”

OO

Like the sweet-shop, the pub was crowded and many heads looked up at their entry. Hermione was well aware of the little whispers and curious glances. This would probably start a new wave of rumours, but she ceased to care. She was so very happy that Severus had finally asked her to come here with him, even if it was not a real date. It was something close to it, and she felt very excited all of a sudden. When Severus tried to help her out of her cloak, her arm got caught in the sleeve and made them both laugh at the awkwardness of the situation.

Severus put their cloaks onto the coat rack and got the Butterbeers, while Hermione went ahead to save them a seat at one of the last free tables. She chose the smallest one in a cosy, quiet nook by the fireplace.

A couple of minutes later Severus appeared with two large glasses of Butterbeer. He seated himself at the small side of the table, at right angles to her, and leaned his knee against hers. Hermione did not withdraw her leg at the contact and neither did he. It was similar to the situation on New Year’s morning, when they had sat on the old stone bench and later walked back to the castle holding hands in silent agreement. Like then she felt very comfortable, but also terribly wriggly and excited at the same time. For a few moments neither of them spoke, then Severus’ eyes fell to the bag on the bench beside her.

“What’s that?” he asked with surprise.

Hermione could not help blushing slightly. “Oh, that,“ she remarked as casually as possible. “That’s my new dress robes.”

“For the ball?” he asked and she nodded.

“Do you have a date?” he asked quite tensely.

“No,” Hermione shook her head then looked up at him. “Are you going with someone?” she asked nervously.

He clearly avoided her eyes. “No,” he remarked quietly and looked at his glass, which he shoved in tiny circles across the table.

“Oh,” mouthed Hermione, likewise turning her glass in her hands, unable to think of anything good to say.

Neither did Severus as it seemed. He took another sip of his Butterbeer and looked around the pub. Neither of them spoke. They just watched the students at the other tables for some time, and Hermione glanced nervously into the direction of the door every now and then. If only the others would not arrive too soon.

“But you’re going nonetheless, aren’t you?” Severus asked all of a sudden.

Hermione who had supposed the topic to be ended, flinched with surprise. “Ohw ewr, I .. don’t know?” she stuttered nervously.

“But you bought new dress robes,” Severus frowned, “so you’re certainly going, aren’t you? Who asked you out? Black? Lupin?” he asked rather sharply. Hermione’s heart started to flutter with excitement. He almost sounded jealous, didn’t he?

“No one did, honestly,” she declared. “I’ll just go with Lily and the boys, I suppose.”

“Ah –” he continued to turn the glass in his hands.

“Are you going, too?” Hermione asked softly.

“Huuw?”

“If you are going to the ball as well?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet. But no, I probably won’t go,” he shrugged.

“Oh – but –”

OO

Some noise and a burst of laughter from the door made them look up. Lily and the boys had entered the pub and were craning their necks to search for her. Hermione’s and Severus’ eyes locked for a couple of seconds, each of them thinking the same.

‘Damn!’

“I’d better go,” he muttered and started to get up, leaving his half-emptied glass on the table. On an impulse Hermione grabbed his forearm to keep him back. “No, don’t,” she asked with a sad expression in her eyes. “Please – stay –”

For a few seconds he hesitated, she could see him fighting an inner battle and she almost expected him to sit down again, but then he slowly shook his head. “It wouldn’t be a good idea,” he muttered. “I don’t want you to get into any more trouble with your friends because of me.”

She was just about to complain, when Lily and the boys already appeared at their table.

Much to Hermione’s surprise neither Severus nor Sirius said a single word. But if glances had been able to kill, neither of them would have lived to the next day.

Hermione could have screamed with frustration when Severus left. Sadly, she watched him step into the rain outside. She really had to fight the urge to just jump up and join him on his walk back to the school. She did not want to run after him.

The noise and cheerfulness of her friends got on her nerves all of a sudden. She could not enjoy the jokes and laughter around her one bit. All her thoughts were with Severus. She wondered if he was already back at the school, and what he might be doing right now. He would probably sit in one of the window seats at the library with his new potions book, she supposed.

He had told her the Slytherin common room was quite damp and chilly on a rainy day like this. So the library was by far the better option. How much she would have enjoyed to sit in the cosy window seat with him right now.

Only when Frank started to take photos with the new wizard’s camera he had got for Christmas, she snapped out of her brooding for a while. But she was not really into this either. She tried her best to force her lips into a smile, but did not really succeed.

She did not speak much. All the time her thoughts wandered off towards Severus. She just could not help it.

When it was finally time to head back to Hogwarts again, she jumped to her feet, utterly relieved to get finally out of there. Lily passed her more than one odd look, but did not ask in front of the boys.

Some more students prepared to leave right then and Hermione was glad that James, Peter and Sirius got all of their cloaks and spared them the trouble to mix among the bustling crowd by the coat rack. Since Remus and Frank were talking to each other, Lily leaned forward to whisper into her ear. “Is everything all right, Géraldine? You didn’t get into a fight with Snape, did you?”

Hermione just shook her head.

“Did he ask you to the Valentine’s ball?” Lily whispered, but got just another head shaking as an answer.

“Oh – “ she touched her friend’s elbow in a comforting gesture, “is it that you’re so sad about?”

“No, it’s just –“ Hermione began, but the boys already returned with the cloaks and put their discussion to an end.

When Sirius helped Hermione into her cloak, he even smiled at her. She did not really know what to think of this after the way he had completely ignored her the past few days. Maybe he was finally coming to his senses. It was certainly about time, she decided, and thanked him with a smile. She could not decipher the look she got from him at this, though.

Stepping outside into the rain again Hermione drew the hood above her head and burrowed her hands into the pockets of her cloak, but froze in mid-movement. In the deeps of her left pocket her fingertips felt something scratchy that felt like a small bag of cellophane with a weight inside. Very carefully, so not to draw attention towards herself, she picked it up far enough to peer inside her pocket. She had been right about her first guess. In the palm of her hand lay a small transparent cellophane bag from Honeydukes, but at the sight of its contents her eyes widened with disbelief. These were no ordinary sweets, but a pair of heart-shaped pralines of light-brown and dark bitter chocolate. Confused, she noticed the golden print on the wrapping:

Just 2 Sweet ~ Hearts .

A small, likewise golden, heart-shaped card dangled from the scarlet-red band the little bag was closed with. Stunned, Hermione flipped the little card over and gasped with surprise at what she saw...

A/N: Lots of thanks for all the feedback once again! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

For a few seconds Hermione just stared at the small heart-shaped card in her hand. It had nothing but the single letter S. on the reverse. Her first thought went to Severus and a mad happiness captured her at the idea he might have bought this for her.

Then, slowly, the realisation dawned that it could have just as well been Sirius, who had placed the little present in her pocket. The single letter S. gave nothing away in the matter. And Sirius had brought her cloak back from the coat rack, after all.

But then, it had been Severus who had placed it there at their arrival. And both boys had been at Honeydukes earlier.

Her confusion must have shown on her face, as Lily stepped closer to her, concern in her eyes. “What is it, Géraldine?” she asked, and whispered without the boys’ notice: “Is it about Snape?”

Tentatively, Hermione looked at her friend. Should she really tell her? She had the feeling that, whoever had given the little present to her, would not appreciate it if she told anyone about it.

But then, maybe Lily had noticed something earlier, or had an idea how Hermione could find out more about the origin of the little gift –

Yes, it would definitely be good to ask for Lily’s advice in the matter. And if she was honest with herself, Hermione had to admit that she was burning with anticipation to tell her friend about the two little hearts. She was so excited about them.

But the others must not know of this. “Not yet,” she whispered back in haste, “I’ll tell you later on.”

Despite her surprise, Lily nodded and both girls caught up with their friends, who had continued to slowly walk down the darkening street. 

OO

Gusts of rain still swept around the castle, when the two girls sat on Hermione’s bed later that evening. The bright orange-green tea set which Lily had received as a Christmas present from her parents, floated in mid air next to the bed.

“Mm –” Lily sighed, picking up the little gift from the blanket between them. “Just 2  Sweet~Hearts,” she read aloud. “This can either mean, you only give these to your ‘Sweetheart’. Or you can look at the matter as in ‘Nothing more than two sweet heart shaped pralines’. Wicked! And even if you suppose the two hearts representing you and Mr. X. – er, S. in this case – by the colour of your hair it doesn’t help. You are the light brown one with your chocolate-coloured hair, that’s plain and good - but who is the dark-bitter chocolate heart? Huu? They both have black hair. This is really bad.”

“Thanks Lil’,” Hermione mocked, “you’re of great help, as always. I don’t want to write a thesis about this. I just want to know, whom these two sweet hearts are from?”

“Well from one of your two ‘Sweethearts’, obviously,” Lily teased, but got serious at Hermione’s exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she grinned, “but that’s just outta sight! Just imagine, Snape, or Sirius choosing such a gift for you to tell you about their feelings. That’s – just too sweet –um – ” she bit her lip, “sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

“Lily!” Hermione warned in mock anger. “If you say ‘to, two or too’ or any other word from this bag just one more time this evening, I’ll scream.”

Lily’s eyes lit up at that. “Oh yes, do that Géraldine. You scream and we’ll see, who comes to your rescue, shall we? Oops, there we have it – another ‘to’,” she grinned mischievously.

“Lily,” Hermione pleaded, “I really wish you were serious for once.”

But this had not the intended effect in the slightest.

“Si-rius?!” the red-haired girl snorted. “Well, that’s some surprise! I would have bet you’d prefer if I were Severus!”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed at the idea of being up here with Severus in Lily’s place.

“A sickle for your thoughts, Géraldine,” Lily grinned slyly. She then took a sip of her Mixed-red-berries Tea and looked at her friend. “Well let’s list up the facts then. The card only says: S. This could either be Severus or Sirius. They both have a crush on you. Well, Remus as well, but I think we can leave him out of this. Sirius and Severus both had the opportunity to smuggle the little bag into your pocket. Both were at Honeydukes before. That’s bad, Géraldine,” she concluded, “honestly. But you probably shouldn’t ask either of them. It could become a lot of trouble in case you thank the wrong one for ‘his heart’. Maybe you should just wait a few days and see what happens. And I’ll keep my eyes and ears open as well.”

OO

Up in a high windswept mountain cave, the beggarly-clothed man awoke shivering from the cold. His long, untamed black hair was loosely tied into a ponytail and a dark layer of stubble covered his quite hollow cheeks. Right now his teeth were chattering from cold. He had not noticed how icy the nights had become already, since he usually curled up in his Animagus form between the heather weeds he had piled up in the back of the cave.

As a dog he did not sense the cold half as much, while his hearing and smelling abilities were twice as sharp. Both were very useful to notice anyone nearing the cave, so he would be able to hide or get prepared to defend himself in time, which was important for his survival. But the previous evening he had accidentally fallen asleep in his human form.

Sirius Black was on the run.

After 12 miserable years he had spent at Azkaban for a crime he had not committed he had finally found a chance to escape. This was four years ago now, but his name still had not been cleared and he still had to be careful not to be seen by anyone, muggle or magician.

Dragging his ragged winter cloak tighter around his shoulders, he stepped into the front part of the cave to carefully peer out of its entrance.

The world outside was clad in hoarfrost. White crystals of ice covered the rough landscape like a sheet. There was no one around. No hint of any living being – human or animal. Just the last dry leaves on the almost bare twigs of a group of narrow hazel-bushes, were moved by the constant icy wind that swept the vast, deserted grassland

It was late October, almost November now, and the weather was getting worse. The thick grey clouds that hid the morning sky told of snowfall. Even the smell of it seemed to be in the air already. He would have to move to another hiding place soon. The winter would neither be comfortable for him as a human, nor as a dog up here. The Orkneys were not the most pleasant place to spend the winter.

But right now, all he could think of was the strange dream he had just awoken from. He had not dreamed in a long time, as he usually spent his nights in his Animagus form and all he remembered to have dreamed about in that shape was hunting a rabbit, or such. And before, at Azkaban, he had only had nightmares to haunt his sleep.

Tonight it had been different though. He had dreamed of a happier time in his life – his schooldays at Hogwarts, when his only worry had been the fact that Géraldine was not dating him, but seemed to enjoy Snape’s presence instead. He frowned slightly at the memory, how upset he had been about this. He had spent hours brooding about a way to get back at Snape and even more time fantasising about how he might win her heart.

Then his frown deepened all of a sudden. Who the heck was Géraldine?  He was sure to have never heard that name before and yet the incidents he ‘remembered’ were so very detailed and the emotions that still hit him at the ‘memory’ were so very clear.

‘How was that possible? Had it done so much harm to him, keeping himself from dreaming human dreams for so long?  That his mind no longer knew the difference between dream and reality, now that it was finally allowed to deal with it again? And why on earth did this mysteriously-appearing Géraldine look so much like Hermione?’ 

He had to ask Harry if everything was all right with her as soon as he could get hold of an owl.  

OO

Remus Lupin awoke at the sharp, high-pitched noise of furious spitting cats and a loud clattering from the street below.

It was still dark. His alarm clock showed  3:23 a.m. The shabby furnished room in one of the less noble parts of London was only dimly lit by the single street lamp in the alley that led into the gloomy, narrow back-yard beneath the window.

The noise that had woken him, was apparently that of dustbins clattering to the pavement down there.

He did not switch on the light, but stepped towards the window to peer into the mean courtyard below. By the light of the street lamp, he got a glimpse of some mangy, scrawny cats fleeing hurriedly into the darkness, their shadows oddly elongated against the dirty-red brick wall. They had obviously knocked one of the dust boxes over at their fight about the food.

Within a few seconds several lights were switched on and some curses addressing the source of the disturbance, whoever they were, could be heard. Here and there a window was opened, and slammed shut again. Then everything was quiet.

With an exasperated sigh Remus turned away from the window and let his eyes take in his surroundings. A narrow, uncomfortable room with faded, green wallpaper scattered with a pattern of tiny white flowers. The several water stains were even visible in the semidarkness, and the damp old material seemed so determined to just roll itself down from the moist walls that it could only be ‘persuaded’ to stay in place by the use of magic. A plain, chipped pine-wood dresser, a table, a chair. A worn-out yellowish armchair next to the window and a narrow, worn bed, that hardly gave room enough for him to sleep half-way comfortably. There was no question of guests, overnight or otherwise. He forced a bitter laugh at that thought. Not that he ever had any opportunity to complain about this lack of space.

At least he needn’t share kitchens and showers with the other lodgers. An infinitesimal bathroom next door, his cauldron, and a couple of cooling and freezing charms that he cast on the food he kept in his trunk, which rested in back of his ‘living’-bedroom, saw to this.

He had to be very careful about this of course, since cooking in the lodgings was strictly forbidden and if the landlady were ever to find out about his ‘arrangements’, he would find himself with nothing but his trunk down in the street again. The other roomers were deadly suspicious about the strange noise that escaped his room once a month, anyway and he had already been warned to keep – whatever he did – more silent. 

Depressed at what he saw, he crossed the short distance towards his bed and sat down on the its edge, rubbing his face in his hands. How much he hated this place. For someone with a desire for freedom such as his it, seemed to sometimes bring almost physical pain. He sometimes felt as if the narrow walls were closing in on him, especially in the times of an upcoming full moon.

But what choice did he have?

Ever since he had been forced to give up his teaching position at Hogwarts four years ago, as Severus Snape had ‘accidentally’ slipped the news that Remus was a Werewolf, he had tried to get another job. But all he could find had been a post as a copyist for Defence Against The Dark Arts department of the Ministry of Magic, which was lousy pay. Therefore he could not afford better rooms or, dream on, a proper flat.

And it was dead boring on top of it all. All he had to do was writing reports of several missions the Ministry’s Aurors were sent on. Little buttons they wore at their robes, working as a pensieve for mere facts, not emotions, told him everything relevant to be listed up and mentioned in his report.

Besides that he sketched rough drawings of judicial hearings at the muggle court of justice twice a week. This earned him a few extra pounds, he saved for the rent which he had to pay in muggle coins of course. This way he needn’t spend so much for exchanging the money he earned at the Ministry into muggle pounds at Gringotts, and had some halfway interesting tasks to keep his mind sated.

Although he had to admit that his sanity was troubling him a lot lately. And this night had not been any help to dismiss those worries. He had once again dreamed about – Her.

And even if it was no flattering imagination to dream about a girl who was so much younger than him, it was one of the few things that made his life endurable. He had built himself a happy little universe containing a girl named Géraldine, who attended Hogwarts along with him back in his final year. The only problem was that this Géraldine looked and acted exactly like Hermione.

How could he possibly have absorbed her personality so thoroughly that he even projected it into his dreams, so intensely that she almost felt like a real part of his past? He had not even seen her these past years. And back when he had, she had been a girl of only thirteen years. Well, at least the Géraldine in his dreams was eighteen – as the real Hermione was now. He was very glad about that. It made him feel less pervy about the idea of fancying her. Nonetheless all of this was very strange.

Maybe the countless painful transformations and worries about his loathed lycanthropy were finally causing their effect. Maybe it would be actually best for him to ask for help in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies. He was almost sure he was slowly but steadily losing his right mind. To fantasise about his life as he did... He was not even sure what was truth and what was imagination anymore.

Like often when he felt sad and disturbed like this, he picked up his old photo album, which lay right beneath the bed next to his wand. The light brown leather had darkened with the years and the pages already showed some signs of usage. Almost all the photographs inside were taken with a wizards’ camera and therefore moving and changing constantly. It always filled him with some kind of comfort to see the dear, familiar little images of his friends laughing and waving at him. But this time he gasped at what he saw...

OO 

Severus Snape sat on the edge of his bed, staring unseeing at the opposite wall. Then, as if trying to wipe the memories away, he covered his eyes with his hand.

This – could not – be true. He had not done that. No –

He was truly miserable. Not only did miss her almost constantly by now, he was also embarrassed beyond imagination at the idea that she now knew it had been him, her future Potions Master, who had showed such a sentimental display of affection for her.

How on earth could he have done such a thing to himself? If he had only known back then … 

OO

With a nervous lump in his stomach, Severus hurried up the stairs to the library the following morning. He could hardly wait to meet her. Half the night he had lain awake, wondering what her reaction might be. But now that he was to find out in a few minutes, he was terribly nervous.

‘What if she laughed at him? Or worse, what if she drew back from him now that she - knew?’

He could not wait for things to clear up, though. If he was lucky – maybe, he would kiss her in only a few minutes. His heart beat like mad and his throat went dry, while the palms of his hands felt strangely damp all of a sudden. He was so very nervous…

But when he finally arrived at the library, she was not there. He had to admit that it was ten minutes earlier than the time they usually met, but still – He was the slightest bit disappointed by this. She could have been a little more eager to see him, now that she knew –  Or hadn’t she discovered the little gift yet?

Unable to get any studying started, he rose from his chair and walked over towards the window to have a look outside at the grounds. He wondered if he should ask her for a walk again this morning?

But no, this was probably not a good idea. The slowly lightening January sky was hung by thick clouds and the bare branches of the dripping wet trees were shifting restlessly in the stormy blows that hit them. Not the cosiest weather for a walk. The ground was deep and slippery and a constant downpour of cold rain made the matter not one bit better.

Nervously he walked back towards their favourite seat and placed his feather-quill, ink-bottle and parchment along with some books onto the table.

If she would only arrive soon.

OO

When Hermione entered the library, Severus was already there. But after all the nervous eagerness and the high hopes with which she had been looking forward to this moment during the long hours of night, his reaction was kind of disappointing. Almost snubbing –

He hardly looked up from the book in front of him, muttered a brief, ‘Hi’ at her and then continued on reading. Thunderstruck, Hermione took a seat as well and unpacked her own books and writing materials. This was not what she had expected at all. What the heck was wrong with him? If he had placed that little gift in her cloak, why did he act this reserved now? 

And if not – well, what was different than the last time they had sat at the library together then? She did not understand this at all, but like she had come to terms with Lily the evening before, she tried her best to act as if nothing had happened.

Nonetheless she carefully observed Severus’ behaviour, his every gesture and expression. It was kind of strange. It almost had the appearance that he did not feel at all comfortable in her presence anymore.

This could only mean that he was not interested in her, couldn’t it? Maybe she had been too pushy about things the day before. 

OO

Severus felt like a fool. From the corner of his eye, he had watched Hermione carefully, while she was staring down at the parchment in front of her pretending to not notice a thing. She acted all strangely today. Very reserved and cool. She had not mentioned the day before with one word, nor had she said anything about the gift he had hidden in her cloak.

It had been a mistake. If he only had not done such a stupid thing. He had originally planned to give the little present to her on Valentine’s Day, but when she had suggested to head for the ‘Three Broomsticks’ with him yesterday, he had been so sure she liked him as well! On an impulse he had slipped it into the pocket of her cloak when he had put it on the coat rack.

All night he had been wondering if it had been the right thing to do. Now he knew it had been very stupid of him.

‘Why couldn’t he just have left everything as it was? Why’d he had to rush things?’

She was probably just as uncomfortable around him as she was with Black now. He had spoiled everything! How embarrassing that she now knew of his crush and did not even bother to comment on it!

Luckily they did not have Potions today. He hardly expected he could manage to work with her in class right now, when all he wished for was a dark hole to crawl into.

OO

The next morning Hermione slipped quietly into her seat beside Lily at the breakfast table. Severus had not been at the library this morning. She had waited for him for more than an hour, but he had not shown up.

First she had been worried, he might have entangled himself into another fight with Lucius. But if she was honest with herself, she could not deny that he had already been strange the day before. He had hardly looked at her and had only spoken the most necessary words. He had not mentioned the Hogsmeade weekend at all. She had been so sure their little ‘date’ had meant something to him as well.

How could she have been so much mistaken?

Maybe it had been wrong to ask him to head for the Three Broomsticks with her – but then, he seemed to have enjoyed it as well, hadn’t he?

But for all it looked like, it was quite obvious that he wanted to get some room. She had been too pushy - For what other reason should he have stayed away from the library this morning? Without even telling her!

She had screwed it up.

She was such a fool.

She had begged him to stay, when he wanted to leave the pub. And imagine that she had almost asked him to attend the ball with her – eww – how fortunate, the others had entered just that instant, before she could make a complete fool out of herself. And luckily she had also fought the impulse to run after him.

She felt almost physically ill with wretchedness. No way that she would manage to force any food down right now.

Secretly she let her eyes wander into the direction of the Slytherin House Table. He was there, in his usual place, but he did not even glance in her direction. Not wanting to be caught staring at him, Hermione drew her eyes away from his face.

OO

Right that minute the owls swooped into the Great Hall in a rustling of feathers. Letters were dropped into the plates and laps of their recipients. Hermione noticed Severus received one as well. He starred at the large brown envelope for a couple of seconds and all colour seemed to drain from his face. Then he got up from his seat and left the Great Hall with the still-closed envelope in his hand. He had not even touched his breakfast.

Since Hermione did not feel any hungry either – every bite seemed to get stuck in her throat – she made up a lame excuse of having forgotten one of her books at the library, and promised to catch up with her friends on their way to Herbology.

Relieved to have escaped the noisy atmosphere at the breakfast table, she leaned against one of the stone pillars in the vast, deserted Entrance Hall and rested her temple against the spongy old sandstone. She drew in a deep breath and pinched her eyes shut, determined not to cry.

She did not really know where to go though. The library seemed the most likely option, but it was very well possible that Severus had headed for that place to read his letter and she did not want to appear to run after him.

The heavy downpour of rain made a walk on the grounds not an option either. But she could not just stay in the Entrance Hall, could she? Maybe it was best to head for the common room and sit by the fire for a few minutes, before it was time to go to the first lesson. Yes, that she would do.

She had hardly reached the second floor though, when a strange noise reached her ears. It was a sound of ragged breathing, that sounded strikingly like – crying.

Immediately her thoughts went to Severus again. Maybe the letter had contained some bad news. He had been very pale and had left in great hurry.

Concerned, she opened the door just a crack and peered into the empty classroom. What she saw, was a complete surprise to her.

She had been right, there was definitely someone crying in here. But the boy, who was seated on the windowsill, his arms tightly encircling his knees, his face hidden in the crook of his arm, was not Severus – it was Peter. 

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely encouragement. I’m so thrilled by your feedback!

This chapter’s title refers to a song by ‘We Five’, which was a hit back in 1965. I guess the Marauders would have known that song.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

This was not what she had expected at all. After a few seconds of hesitation, Hermione slipped into the room.

Only then did Peter notice he was no longer alone. The moment the door closed softly behind her, he lifted his tearstained face out of the crook of his arm and stared at her.

He must have cried for quite a while, Hermione noted. Red patches covered his face and his eyes were rather puffy.

As soon as he realised her presence, his cheeks grew even redder and in an awkward movement he brushed the tears away with his sleeve. “Erw, Géraldine,” he stammered, “what are – you – doing here?”

Slowly Hermione stepped closer. “Well, I could ask you the same question,” she responded as she seated herself on the corner of a table near the windowsill he was sitting in.

“What’s wrong, Peter? Did anything happen?” she asked carefully. She could not say she was too fond of Peter, but so far he had not done a thing to deserve her wrath so she could not just not care at all if he was upset, could she?

“Did you get an owl bringing bad news?”  

He continued to stare at his feet. “No,” he whispered after a couple of seconds. 

Suddenly a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “You didn’t even notice I wasn’t there, did you?”

Hermione creased her brows. “Where?” she asked, confused, then suddenly realised he must be speaking of the Great Hall. “Oh, em no, I’m sorry,” she muttered, uncomfortably aware of the fact that she’d had no clue indeed that he had not been around.

“I really didn’t notice, but I’ve been so focused on my own cares that I didn’t …”

“No need to be sorry,” Peter interrupted her with another harsh laugh. “You’re not the only one to not notice, Géraldine, certainly not! I bet none of the others did, either. Why would they? You – none of you – care, or even notice whether or not I’m even there. You don’t mind me, but you don’t want me – don’t…seek me out. None of you would ever say ‘Oh, where’s Peter? Mustn’t start without him!’ Why do you think that is?”

Hermione prepared to explain, not entirely sure what she could say to this, but Peter already carried on: “Because I’m not really one of you. I’m a convenience, a pawn, a hanger-on. Like a tool, sitting in the background until I’m needed. Then it’s Peter this, and Pete that, and ‘No one can smuggle the dung bombs into Snape’s cauldron better than you Pete,’ or ‘You’ll watch the portrait-hole and let us back in, won’t you Peter,’” he said, mimicking Hermione’s new friends uncannily, as a dark expression crossed his face.

He continued to stare at his feet, looking as miserable as before. “But that’s not what I want to be – reduced to,” he muttered after a while, barely audible. “I’m so tired of this. I don’t know why I bother.” He sighed and turned his face away from her and to the coldness outside the window.

Hermione spoke with a tremble in her voice. “Bother with what, Peter?”

“With anything, really. With trying to please people, make them like me. None of you would ever ask for my opinion on a serious matter. No. Bloody. One. My ‘dear friends’ don’t even consider me worthy to be asked for advice when it comes to their problems. They don’t think I’m able to handle my own matters properly. So why ask for my help with theirs? Take that stupid ball for instance…” 

“What about the ball?” Hermione asked with a frown at the sudden turn of conversation.

“It only shows how little they care about my opinion, or about my wishes – I mean, I might just want to go with a date too! And as for Sirius and Remus…well… You must know that there’s a queue,” he said, “for you, I mean. Remus is practically sick with anxiety wishing to ask you to the Valentine’s Ball, and Sirius just thinks it’s a matter of time before he gets you…and neither of them even realises that it doesn’t matter who will ask you first because it’s Snape you want to go with.”

When Hermione drew in a deep breath to speak up against this, Peter continued: “What gets me is that while Remus and Sirius are strutting around trying to manoeuvre you into a date with them, and James and Lily scheming to get everyone paired off, do any of them, any of them spare a thought for me?” Peter stared straight into Hermione’s eyes, and the pain she saw there almost made her feel sick.

“No. Because you see, I’m not important enough. And I suppose it’s just time that I accepted it,” he said with a kind of eerie finality.

“Peter,” Hermione said, hoping to give him words of comfort.

The look on his face stopped her.  “Be careful what you say, Géraldine.  Don’t lie to me.”

Hermione closed her eyes and then opened them again. “What can I do, Peter?” she said simply.

“Just don’t use me, Géraldine. Just be my friend.”

They knew they would be late, but still neither of them made a move to get up from their seats. Hermione watched Peter warily out of the corner of her eye, and was she wrong in imagining that he seemed more relaxed?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, by my comment about Snape,” Peter muttered after a while. “You like him, don’t you?”

Hermione had to swallow at that. Tears started to prickle at the back of her lids as she nodded. “How do you know?”

“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not stupid, Géraldine.”

“Of course you’re not,” Hermione hurried to agree eager to move the discussion back to safe ground and away from her. “You even managed to transfigure into an Animagus. That’s definitely difficult. Not every wizard succeeds with that.”

“Yeah sure, it’s brilliant, Géraldine. I’m a rat, Wow!” Peter mocked, but his voice sounded less bitter than a few minutes before. “I’m so thrilled about that. Even the others laughed themselves half sick about it after our first transformation – and just look at our stupid nicknames. ‘Moony’, James came up with that, it’s OK, I think, even if it hurts Remus a little. ‘Padfoot’ for Sirius was my idea. Not very original, but it passes. Sirius suggested ‘Prongs’ for James, the king of Quidditch and golden boy, who draws everyone’s attention to himself, whereas for me he came up with that stupid, insulting term. ‘Wormtail’, honestly. I hate that name!”

They felt silent for a moment, each dwelling on their own thoughts.

“Do you want to know what happened last time we sneaked around in our Animagus forms?”

Hermione nodded, glancing at him from the side, noting that his expression had darkened again.

“It was outside, behind the greenhouses. Sirius, James and Remus – it was at the night of the full moon – were a good distance ahead of me. I’m quick at short distances, you know, but on longer treks I can’t keep up with them. Suddenly that nasty black cat of Snape’s appeared.”

“Nossy?” Hermione asked in surprise. She could not help the amused undertone in her voice. 

Peter threw an accusing glance at her and continued acerbically: “I didn’t ask for its name. Well, I had to run for dear life – I couldn’t just transform back into a human, Remus was around after all – and was barely able to escape into one of the gutters attached to the greenhouses. I tried to climb up the tin walls, but my claws couldn’t find a hold. I kept sliding downwards again and that horrid cat reached out for me with its paw. I was so damn afraid to get eaten up by that beast, but when my ‘dear friends’ finally noticed and Sirius shooed Snape’s cat away with an angry growl, they didn’t take it at all seriously. Even as Animagi, I could sense them laughing at me. They kept teasing me about it for days. For them it was just a big joke, but I couldn’t find much humour in it. Remus was the only one who didn’t make fun of me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike them,” he added at her concerned look. “But to see James succeed at everything he tries gets quite annoying sometimes. And Sirius is a tad too bold in my opinion. I don’t think he means ill, it’s just the way he is, but still …”

Hermione cast a worried glance in his direction. Peter, who caught this, forced his lips into a sad smile. “Not that I could blame them, I’m such a duffer at everything. I can hardly stay on a broom.  I – ”

“Nor can I,” Hermione interjected. “But you’re top of class at Herbology for example. How about that?”

“Nice try to cheer me up, Géraldine. I like Herbology a lot, that’s true, but – honestly –” he pulled an almost disgusted face, “it’s girls’ stuff! No offence,” he smiled at her annoyed gasp, “but I’d prefer to be good at subjects like DADA, Duelling, or Flying. Or maybe even Charms, or Potions. But no, it has to be flower nursing. Brilliant! No wonder no one cares a crap for what I say.”

“But Peter,” Hermione interjected, “being good in school isn’t everything.”

“You’re right, Géraldine, it isn’t,” he agreed. “But it’s not just classes. I can’t compete with – well, anyone at this school, really – when it comes to marks, or girls, or magic… I really wish I could do something – anything –  to make them notice me… But I’ll find a way,” he muttered. “Some day I’ll make them all notice.”

Hermione didn’t really know what to say to this. Knowing what she did about Peter’s future, his words gave her chills. He certainly was plagued by self-doubt, but he was not really completely wrong at what he said, was he? If she was honest on the matter she doubted that any of the others had noticed Peter’s absence this morning. And it wasn’t just today.  

If seriously requested, she could not have told whether Peter had been around at any breakfast the previous week.

“Well, we won’t solve this today,” she smiled encouragingly at him, “but if you really like Herbology as you say, we had better discuss this on another occasion. The class has already started and I guess it’s about time for us to hurry.”

OO

As soon as they arrived at the greenhouse every single head turned towards them. In their hurry they had pushed more forcefully against the door than necessary. With a loud clattering it had burst open and in a gust of whirling rain they rushed inside. “Sorry we’re late, Professor,” Hermione panted, “we got caught up.”

Professor Sprout did not look pleased at all. “And why would that be, Miss Henshler?” she asked, pursing her lips.

Hermione did not really know what to reply to that. She passed a nervous glance to Peter, who looked not a tad happier. They did not want to give away that he had been crying, but what could they say?

After a second side-glance at her, Peter opened his mouth, obviously accepting his fate. “I, I was –”

“He was helping me search for my Herbology book,” Hermione cut in.

Once again Professor Sprout creased her brows. In a rush Hermione continued: “I looked in the library first, but it was actually in the common room. Peter helped me search for it, Professor.”

To her relief, Professor Sprout did not press her any further. “You have to keep your belongings in order more carefully Miss Henshler.” Her eyes wandered over towards Peter. “And you, Mr. Pettigrew, as honourable as it is to help your class mate, you shouldn’t have lost track of time at it. What kept you at Gryffindor tower anyway? You should have been at breakfast at that time.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed bright red at that. He cast a helpless glance at Hermione and stammered: “I –um – slept in – yes, I did. When I came down to the common room, I met Géraldine. She asked me if I had seen her book and I –”

“Yes, yes, you helped her search for it, I already know that. No need to tell it over and over again. But you are more than a quarter of an hour late. That is five points off Gryffindor for you Mr. Pettigrew, I’m afraid. And it’s ten points in your case, Miss Henshler. Given your delay everyone has paired up already. You will have to work together, but I’m sure you won’t mind, will you? Now hurry to your table and start preparing for your task. Miss Evans, Mr. Black, please show your Housemates what to do.

Hermione got an apologetic glance from Peter as he joined her at the workbench. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“It’s OK,” she told him with an encouraging smile and he disbelievingly returned it. “Remus is right, you’re truly amazing,” Peter stated, blushing up to his hairline.

“Hey, Pete,” Sirius grinned as he joined them at the work table, and slapped his friend’s shoulder, “a little off time, aren’t we? Nice to have you finally join us. What’s that about huh?”

Poor Peter’s blushing increased at that and he quickly bowed his head to gather up his working materials.

“You know what Sirius,” Hermione snapped, “you’d do much better if you’d just shut up for once and leave him alone.”

Uncomfortably she grew aware of the little whispers that spread amongst the Hufflepuffs at her words.

OO

In the evening Lily brought the topic up again.

“Géraldine?” she started hesitatingly, as she combed out her hair, which she had worn in a twist that day.

Hermione, who was lying on her bed, did not expect any good at the note of her friend’s voice. Nonetheless she looked up from the book she had been reading. “Yes Lily, what is it?”

Slowly Lily let the brush sink and turned her head to face her friend. The look in her eyes told Hermione that Lily did not feel comfortable about what she planned to ask her, either.

“About what happened in Herbology this morning – well, you – Did you hear what the Hufflepuffs muttered to each other, when you told Sirius off?”

Hermione shook her head, knowing that she would not like the news.

“Well,” Lily continued slowly, looking extremely uncomfortable now. “They obviously noticed that you don’t talk to Snape – Excuse me, Severus, I meant to say. That you don’t talk to him anymore. And after all those rumours flying around, it’s now being said that he – Well, since yesterday you have avoided each other completely and now everyone thinks that he has dumped you. Lucius is very eager to spread that news. And the Hufflepuffs even wondered if you were comforting yourself with Peter now.”

“What!?” Hermione gasped, “That’s – not true!”

Lily just nodded. “I know, Géraldine, but be careful, will you? There’s already enough gossip about you! Even the teachers seem to have heard something. Didn’t you wonder why Sprout was so strict to you today?”

Hermione gazed at her thunderstruck, “No, I –”

But Lily just shook her head to tell her to be quiet. “Listen!” She got up from her seat in front of the mirror and moved over towards Hermione to settle herself onto the bed next to her. With a grave expression she continued: “I heard Lucius and his friends laughing about you, when I returned from Divination earlier. He was so rude, Géraldine he – He said Snape was finally tired of you –” seemingly she could not really bring herself to repeat to her, what exactly he had said.

Hermione gasped at the stab of pain that filled her heart at those words. “Lily,” she muttered numbly, forcing back the tears that irresistibly crept into her eyes at the news. “You know that’s not true. We never were together in the first place. We are just – friends.”

“Are you sure of that?” Lily asked seriously.

Hermione gazed at her friend. “At least that’s what I thought,” she whispered sadly. “I thought he liked me, too, but –”

“You’re not sure of it anymore?” Lily asked compassionately and placed one hand on Hermione’s.

Hermione pinched her eyes shut against the tears and slowly shook her head, at a loss for words.

“No – No Lil-ly, not at – all –” she finally croaked out as the tears started to fall.    

OO

It was only three weeks before the ball and Hermione still did not have a date. She did not really worry about it as she probably would not be attending anyway. She certainly was not in the mood.

Well, she could wear the new dress robes for the Leaving Feast then, couldn’t she?

She had not talked to Severus ever since the day after the Hogsmeade weekend. For one whole week she had waited for him at the library every morning at the usual time, but he had not ever come.

With each day she had felt more miserable about this. She had not been able to concentrate at all – had always caught herself staring at the door. At every creak of the old floorboards she had looked up, hoping it might be him. She had been so sad – and still was.

When by the end of the week, he still had not come, she had finally given up waiting. She no longer headed for the library anymore. She could not bear the sight of his empty seat and all the happy memories that room held. Especially that of New Year’s morning when they had sat by each other in the bay window in the early hours of the year.

She was doing her homework and morning studies at the common room now instead. Only in the afternoons, when the library was crowded with other students, she had dared to head there to get the books she needed.

It might be stupid and over-sensitive of her to react that way as they had never actually dated, or kissed at all – but she could not help her feelings nonetheless.

She had dwelled in far too many thoughts of him and had so much hoped he would return her affection. Obviously she had been wrong. Only now that they did not talk at all anymore she realised how big her crush had actually become. How much she missed him –

Lily was the only one she could confess these feelings to and she proved herself as a real and dear friend these past few days. She simply listened to Hermione’s worries and misery, without asking any questions or judging her actions or motives – and tried to comfort her the best way possible. She brewed up tea or hot chocolate and conjured up a fresh handkerchief for Hermione whenever she needed one.  

At Potions Severus had not even looked her direction the last two classes, nor did he do so today. They had not had to brew any potions for which they would have needed to pair up so far.

Today Figg had ordered them to brew Scent-Neutralising-Potion, which clearly required the help of a partner to assist in the brewing, but Severus had not moved over towards her for that task either. Like on her first day, she worked along with Frank, who seemed very glad about this arrangement. Hermione could not help but secretly look in Severus’ direction every now and then. He was working with Lucius and for all it seemed they were getting along well enough again.

The only time Severus had raised his head to look at her had been because Lucius had elbowed him, a smug expression on his face, and had nodded in her direction. As far as she had noticed Severus had not responded to that at all. He had just stared at her for a couple of seconds as if he had been unable to draw himself away once their gazes had met. There had been something very strange in his black eyes she could not quite put a finger on. She was even wondering if she could interpret it as – sadness.

And to her surprise, Severus had lowered his gaze and had been the first to look away.

This potions lesson was certainly difficult to get through. When Hermione looked up from her work, she noticed Figg staring at her with a sickly pleased look on her face. She was sure that Lily had been right about her observation that the teachers had heard the rumours as well.

OO

Severus tried his best not to stare at Hermione. He would have so much liked to work along with her again, but she had withdrawn from him since she had received the little gift. He just was not sure why she appeared so sad. It must be because of the rumours, he supposed. 

He knew that Lucius told everyone that Severus had dumped her and although he was not enthusiastic about his housemate’s stupid talk, Severus did not really know what he could have done against them. He had already denied these whispers before and it had not helped in the slightest, on the contrary. The gossip had become only more forceful the more he had tried to defend her.  

He wondered how she coped with the situation. It could not be easy for her, he supposed. She looked rather stressed and upset. And apparently she had been late for Herbology class this week, accompanied by Pettigrew. Now it was even said that she had been snogging him in the common room, but he did not believe a bit of that. The mere idea was just –

His train of thought was distracted by a loud clattering as Pettigrew knocked his jar of tulip bulbs off the edge of his table. A wave of laughter erupted the class at his unfortunate move. The tiny bulbous plants spread all over the dungeon floor. A couple of them even rolled under Severus and Lucius’ table.

Pettigrew got a few harsh words from Professor Figg for his clumsiness and was ordered to collect the roots.

“Without magic!” she snapped.

He had to walk halfway through the classroom to pick them up one by one, his ears burning with embarrassment under the comments and sniggering of the class. Even Pettigrew’s own house members were laughing, Severus noticed. But one could hardly blame them. It was truly hilarious. ‘What an oaf!’

Even Severus’ lips twitched at the sight. At least for some time he was dragged out of his brooding, nonetheless he felt almost a little sorry for the clumsy, round-faced boy, who hurried to clear the mess he had created.

When Pettigrew finally returned to his bench, Severus noticed Hermione giving her unhappy housemate a sympathetic smile. She was certainly kindhearted. Or was there more to the most recent rumours than he had believed thus far?    

His musings were put to an abrupt ending, when suddenly the smell of rotten eggs reached his nostrils. Startled Severus drew his gaze back towards their own potion. It was – yellow! This was not a good sign at all as it was supposed to be light-blue at this state of preparation. The foul smell increased with every second and tiny bubbles boiled up from the liquid and a thick, horribly foul smelling mist hovered over the cauldron.       

With hurried steps, Figg appeared at their table. “What’s this about, Mr. Snape?” she asked, scandalised. Her brows descended and converged on her forehead and her nose became a sharp, pointed shape that made her look all the more like a hawk.

“Turn down the flame! What are you waiting for, Mr Snape? I cannot understand where you have your thoughts today. I expect much better from you.”

She sounded truly angry now. With another glare, she snatched the ladle out of his hand and dipped it into the potion. Carefully she let the liquid drip back into the cauldron and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight of the little clumps that splattered into the turbid yellow brew.

“That potion is spoiled beyond repair. You will both prepare it again in the afternoon, Mr. Snape, Mr. Malfoy. But as the result of your team work is not sufficient, you will be working each on your own.”

The class gasped and Severus’ frown increased at that. He knew fairly well what that meant. If they were to prepare all ingredients for that potion alone and complete all the required working steps by themselves, it would probably take them all afternoon to get out of detention. With a sudden feeling of fury he glanced at Pettigrew.

He did not know how he had managed to smuggle whatever it was into their cauldron without anyone’s notice, but it must have been him. He was almost convinced of it. This mess had happened too soon afterwards to be mere coincidence.

With a heavy stab of disappointment he remembered the little smile Hermione had given Pettigrew as her housemate returned to his seat. It almost looked as if she had known that he had done something to their potion, which had turned into a bubbling mess of sulphur smelling goo only seconds afterwards. Had she known of his plan and had she enjoyed it? Maybe she had even instigated Pettigrew to do this? But why? What had he done to her that she wanted to get him in trouble? How could she be this mean to him, when she had appeared so nice only a week ago? Could he really have been so much mistaken in her? Maybe there was more to the most recent rumours than Severus had first thought.

OO

But Potions was not the only lesson that suffered because of Hermione’s worries. She had never expected to find anything getting so much to her that she would allow herself to get behind in her studies, but there she was.

She was trying her best of course, but she could not avoid musing over her unhappy crush on Severus Snape and more than once she had caught herself absentminded in class, staring sadly into the cloudy-grey sky outside.   

Today McGonagall had even given her detention, because it had taken three times to get her attention as she had stared into space at Transfiguration.

In the evening Hermione had curled herself up on the bed again. She fought very hard not to start crying.

Lily tried her best to comfort her friend once again. “Look, Géraldine,” she muttered soothingly. “It will all turn out at the finish. Not everyone believes the gossip. I’m sure Sirius will ask you to the ball any day now. He likes you a lot.”

“I don’t care at all about that stupid ball,” Hermione cried, “and I certainly don’t want to go with Sirius! And he doesn’t like me, Lily, he’s just too stubborn to give up, that’s all.”

“Well anyway,” Lily muttered, “it might cheer you up. Why not giving it a try? Or maybe you could go with Remus, you said that you like him, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sure, Lily, but not like that!” Hermione sighed.

“Hmm, I know, but still, you need to focus on other matters besides Snape.”

“Lily,” Hermione complained, “it’s been only a week since everything fell apart. How can you expect me to be all cheery and normal again?”

“And what exactly is ‘everything’ supposed to mean, Géraldine?” Lily objected with a frown. “I thought there was nothing between you?”

“No, of course not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him Lil!” Hermione muttered sadly. “I really thought he liked me, too.”

“Maybe it was just a funny fluke,” Lily tried to comfort her. “It could all turn out well in the end. Maybe you should just ask him what it’s all about and if he’s a crank then, you at least tried. How about that?”

“No, I don’t want to make it worse. I’ve no idea what went wrong, but if he really cared about me, he could just as well make a move to clear matters himself.”

“Hmm – yes, I can very well see that. Shall I ask him in your place?”

That startled Hermione so much that she sat bolt upright. “NO! No, please don’t do that Lily. How would that look?! I already messed it up badly enough.”

“Mmmm, are you sure that’s it? Maybe he really just wanted to get back at you for disarming him at the library that morning.”

“No,” Hermione objected vehemently. “No, it’s not like that Lily – you mustn’t say that,” she added more calmly. “He’d never do such a thing!” 

OO

A week later the weather had not improved one bit. Hogwarts was almost drowning beneath the heavy rain that poured down with furious blows and darkened the old sandstone walls with moisture.

Outdoor classes were extremely unpleasant now, especially Flying lessons. The heavy downpour of rain clouding their sight, their broomsticks slippery with wetness and the ground much too soaked to even think of the possibility to fall off made those classes a rather stressful experience.

The greenhouses were cold and windy and working in there was no fun at all, either. Hermione felt even more depressed after those classes, especially as the object of her misery was around at Flying lessons.

Luckily she was at least spared the unpleasantness today as Flying class was cancelled. Professor Wendy-Wings seemed to have caught a cold and had headed for the hospital wing to take some Pepper-up Potion, and Herbology was not on their schedule either. 

Nonetheless Hermione felt really sad. She was almost sure now that the gift could not have been from Severus. He had been so cold recently. The only thing strange in this was the fact that Sirius had not slipped one single comment or hint that the Sweet Hearts had been from him. But maybe he was just reluctant to make another move on her, since she had never brought it up. He was kind and friendly to her, but nothing more. Not that she wanted him to, but it was certainly a little weird. 

It was the third lesson of the day and Hermione was on her way up into the Arithmancy Tower. Remus was walking beside her and more than once she noticed his eyes resting on her.

They had just rounded a corner, when Remus suddenly slowed down and looked at her. “Erm Géraldine,” he started hesitatingly and she looked up in surprise at the irresolute tone of his voice. “I was just wondering – You haven’t a date for the ball yet, have you?”  

Hermione hesitated.

She had so much hoped to go with Severus, ever since Dumbledore had announced the feast, but for all it looked like, she could bury her hopes about that.

And going with Remus was probably much better than with Sirius, she reasoned. She feared that it would encourage Sirius to make another move on her, if she attended the ball with him. Maybe Remus was not the worst choice.

“Are you waiting for someone special to ask you, or – would you possibly go with me?”

“With you?” she asked a little confused. “Are you asking me out, Remus?”

“Just for the ball,” he added hastily. “I know it’s not me you want to go with, but as he hasn’t asked you so far, I thought – I just thought it might be nice – I thought you might possibly like to attend the ball with me instead.” He didn’t look sure of himself at this statement.

“Aren’t you afraid of the rumours?” Hermione asked rather sharply and almost immediately regretted her harshness. It wasn’t Remus’ fault that she was unhappy after all.

Remus looked at her with a strange expression on his face. “I don’t care a crab about the rumours, Géraldine,” he responded quite heatedly, then added in a calmer voice: “I know you aren’t involved with Peter in any way. And there’s nothing true about what they say about you and Snape, either. Is there!?”

Woefully, Hermione hung her head. “No,” she muttered, barely audibly, “there’s not.” 

In an affectionate gesture, Remus reached out to cup her cheek. “Don’t be so sad, Géraldine,” he muttered. “Everything will work out fine. They’ll get tired of it and leave you alone again. Just ignore them.”

“You probably aren’t aware of the lies Lucius is throwing around,” Hermione muttered bitterly, but Remus shook his head.

“I am, but I don’t believe a word of them.”

At the surprised expression that crossed her face, he continued softly: “But even if they were true – I would still be your friend, still care about you and still ask you to the ball.”

Hermione swallowed hard at that, but could not stop a single tear from running down her left cheek. “I can only repeat what I said to you on Christmas Morning, Remus,” she muttered, “you’re the best, dearest friend, anyone can imagine. You truly are.” 

Very carefully he wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. Slowly Hermione raised her head and just looked at him. Cinnamon-coloured eyes gazed into hazel ones for a couple of seconds.  

“I’d be happy to attend the ball with you Remus,” Hermione finally smiled.

“Honestly?” he beamed and looked more happy than she had ever seen him. Despite her relief at sparing herself an unpleasant conversation with Sirius now, Hermione felt a little bad for keeping Remus’ hopes high.

Neither of them noticed the pale, dark-haired boy staring at them from the turn in the corridor, before he turned to leave with a swish of his robe.

OO

Just as Hermione had expected, Lily was thrilled by the news.

“Oh Géraldine,” she started excitedly as soon as the other girl entered the common room in the evening. The boys were engaged in some business of their own by the fireplace.

“I heard about you and Remus. I’m so glad you finally got over Snape.” 

“What makes you think so, Lily?” Hermione asked, thunderstruck. But Lily did not even listen and started to tally the couples up on her fingers.

“Well, it’s Frank and Alice so far, you and Remus and James and me, but whom do we have for Siri? We need to find a date for him as well.”

“What about Peter?” Hermione interjected, slightly annoyed by her friend’s thoughtlessness.

“Huh, what?” Lily gasped, completely bewildered.

“No,” Hermione grinned despite her previous stab of anger, “not for Siri, you dimwit. But he needs a girl for the ball as well, or does he already have a date?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Lily frowned, then shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Anyway – listen, Siri is the more urgent case,” she declared. “As soon as he learns that you’re going with Remus, he’ll get even more sour, I can tell you.” She rolled her eyes in a dramatically gesture and then giggled. “Oh-dear – ”

“Come on Lily,” Hermione complained, “I really think we should try to get Peter a date as well. He’s too shy to ask anyone out. Isn’t there any nice girl you know? Preferably someone a little younger than us, who – ”

“Hmm yes, –” Lily muttered absentmindedly and it was quite obvious that she merely listened to Hermione’s words with one ear and then she suddenly beamed at her friend again. “Hah, I know! I’ll ask Alice if her sister already has a date. She’s two years younger than us and a Ravenclaw like her. Maybe she wants to go with Siri. We need to get him a girl to drag him out of his brooding.”   

Hermione just sighed.

OO

Severus was miserable.

He could not believe this was happening. He had been so sure that she cared about him, too. A whole month long they had met every morning at the library and they had gotten along so well with each other.

She had even told him her real name. Even now that he felt betrayed by her, he still missed her.

He missed her so badly. He had even considered asking her to just forget about the stupid hearts and be friends with him at least. He clearly wished for more, but if friendship were all he could get, he would not have hesitated to take it. Now he was not even sure if she would offer him that.

A whole week long Severus had struggled, then he had overcome his pride. He had supposed that it would be awkward being around her, now that she knew that he had a crush on her, but had thought it would be definitely better than the current situation. 

After he had come to this solution, he had felt a little better, but when he had entered the library the next morning, a nervous wreck, there had not been a sign of her. He had waited until the beginning of the first classes, had even skipped breakfast always hoping for her to show up, even for only a moment. Just to get or return some book, but she had not come.

He had waited for her every morning, for the whole week, desperate to talk to her, but she had never come.

He had even considered sending her an owl. The letter lay written and ready to be sent, hidden at the bottom of his trunk, but given the most recent news he was glad he had not sent it yet.

For all it looked like she was actually attending the ball with that damn Werewolf, who had almost eaten them.

He had seen the two of them in a corridor near the Arithmancy classroom. They had been standing by a window and had not noticed him. Lupin had caressed her cheek and Hermione – his Hermione – had smiled at Lupin and told him she would be happy to attend the ball with him. Chastened, Severus had hurried away without their notice, glad that he had been at least spared the embarrassment to be caught staring at them.

He still felt numb with shock at his revelation, but one thing he knew for sure. He would never forgive Lupin for having stolen the girl he loved. Never at all.

OO

In a loud rustling of feathers the owls swooped into the Great Hall and made all the students turn their heads up towards the enchanted ceiling that looked like the sky outside.

The birds seemed to enjoy the attention they got, and before they descended to their owners, flew an extra lap around the grey cloudy sky whose constant downpour of rain luckily did not reach the tables.

A snowy-white, female owl stood out against her fellows, by more than colour though. She separated out of the group as soon as she spotted the black-haired boy she belonged to. Actually she always searched for the red-head beside him, whose hair stuck out above the rest of the students, but luckily her master had no clue about that little trick. 

She had an important mission to accomplish and had no time for any nonsense. She had been told to deliver her message as soon as possible and she always took her duties seriously.  

A small roll of parchment was tied to her leg.

With loud clattering she landed amid the dishes and bowls on the breakfast table, right in front of her master. A couple of screams and angry shouts followed that rather clumsy touchdown.

“Hedwig!” her master gasped with a trace of annoyance as she knocked his milk jug over when folding her left wing. She hastily nibbled his hand to tell him it had been an accident, but he already focused on the little note that was tied to her leg. “Ron,” he gasped as soon as he enrolled the little piece of paper. “It’s from Snuffles!”

OO

Harry stared down at the little piece of parchment in his hands. It was the same he had sent to Sirius a few days before, but had a hastily scribbled note on its reverse.

“We need to send him another bunch of parchment,” Ron pointed out. “And for all it seems he has lost the pencil you sent him. What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

Both boys leaned forward. It was hardly possible to decipher the words, as the coal they were scribbled with, got almost completely smeared into the rain soaked parchment.

D i d n’t hav--nother p a rchm-nt, nor pen.

-ust wondered how things are going at Hog -rts and wh e-her Hermione was OK. Writ- soon.

Sn-fles

Both boys gasped at the alarming shortness and manner of the note.

But this was not the only surprise the day held for them. Breakfast was still in progress when they exited the Great Hall to head for Dumbledore’s office and see him about the strange letter concerning Hermione.

The sound of angry voices turned their attention towards a rain soaked wizard, who shook himself in a dog-like manner. Droplets of water spayed up in all directions at this. With an infuriated hiss Snape took a step out of his way and when the stranger’s hood fell back in the process of shaking, it was once again on Harry and Ron to gasp with surprise.

Wide-eyed they stared at the brown-haired man and their utterly annoyed Potions Professor, who brushed droplets of water from his sleeve.

“And – what – business would bring you to Hogwarts – Lupin?” he spat, fixing the other man with a deathly glare.

A/N: Thanks to everyone, who reviewed or encouraged me about the last chapter. It’s so good to get such nice feedback. I’m really happy that you enjoy this story!

Smiles, Serpentina  

Chapter Text

“Excuse me, Severus, I didn’t see you.” Remus Lupin turned to his former schoolmate and erstwhile colleague with an apologetic smile.

The one addressed did not look convinced at all, though. With an unwilling shake of his head Severus Snape repeated his question more sharply. “What are you doing at Hogwarts, Lupin!?”

“Didn’t the Ministry forbid you to be near the students?!” he added with venom and Harry and Ron held their breath at the impudence. 

“No, Severus, that’s not quite correct,” Lupin responded in his usual calm, controlled manner, but Harry noticed that his eyes had taken on a sad note at this insulting treatment.

“I’ve never been ordered to stay away from this castle and there’s hardly the need for such drastic measures, I might add. It’s just my teaching post I’ve been excluded from, since you so kindly – mentioned – my lycanthropy.”

“And what are you planning to do now? Get revenge on me for it?!” Snape glared at him.

“No,” Lupin remarked calmly. “I’m here to see the Headmaster about a serious matter. If you would kindly let me pass now, Severus?!”

OO

“The Headmaster is a busy man,” Severus said acidly to the Werewolf who had stolen Hermione from him. “He cannot waste his precious time on,” tauntingly slowly, he let his eyes wander down across his opponent’s worn old cloak and shoes, “the requests of an indigent pauper.”   

“It would pain me having to force my entry,” Lupin responded evenly, but much more sharply than Severus had ever heard him speak. His whole posture seemed to stretch, the expression on his face became dead serious and a flash of anger flickered in his hazel eyes that made them appear to be lit from the inside and shine with an almost – yellow glow. 

Unconsciously Severus took a step backwards at the sudden change in Lupin’s behaviour. For the first time since that dreadful night at the entrance to the tunnel, when he had almost eaten him and – Hermione – he felt a stab of fright at the sight of Lupin, from whom anger and power seemed to be radiating in sharp, hot waves now and who did not look as if he would take any further insult well. Though he remained polite and calm on the outside, it was quite obvious that this was not the best time to mess with the Werewolf. A vein at his right temple was throbbing and Severus almost expected him to grind his teeth and snap at him, which he luckily did not.

“As I said – Severus –” Lupin growled with dangerous stress on his name, “I’m here to see the Headmaster and I – will not – leave before I’ve done just that. And you’d do well to step out of my path now. Do I make myself clear?!”  

Severus backed further away, and fighting the urge to reach for his wand and hex the other man, he ground his teeth instead.

“Thank you, Severus,” Lupin nodded politely as he stepped onto the spot on which Severus had stood before. “I’m glad that we could solve the problem like this. And – if I were you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“What?” Severus snapped, feeling inferior and vulnerable against this inhuman, dark side of Lupin’s personality.

“Reaching for your wand. There’s no need to dramatise things.”

“Whatever,” Snape growled, feeling even worse that the Werewolf had sensed his mere impulse to reach for his wand.

Determined not to recoil, he drew himself up to his full height and fixed the other man with a death glare. “If you insist on talking to the Headmaster, go ahead, but I will accompany you.”

“I was on my way up there anyway,” he added stubbornly, sticking his chin out.

Lupin just nodded. “I don’t see a problem with that. In fact I’m quite sure this conversation might interest you as well.”

Wordlessly, they turned towards the stone Gargoyle that hid the stairs to Dumbledore’s office.  

Only then did Severus notice the two figures behind the pillar, who had been witnesses to his crushing defeat. “Potter!” he spat. “How dare you spy on a private conversation!?”

“We – were on our way to see Professor Dumbledore – and we – we couldn’t help –” Potter stuttered, completely shocked at the sudden detection.

An excited gasp from Lupin interrupted his excuses in mid sentence. “Harry!” he called out as he rushed towards the boys and grabbed him by the shoulders, “I need to talk to you!  Where’s Hermione?” he frowned, looking searchingly in both directions. “Why isn’t she with you? Is she all right?” there was a clear trace of panic in his voice.

“No,” Weasley stammered, thunderstruck, “she’s missing, she –”

“Missing?” Lupin gasped. “Oh my god, so it’s true? Isn’t it?”  

OO

Before Harry or Ron got the chance to answer, Snape had dashed forward, grabbed Lupin by the collar of his cloak and whirled him around so that his back hit the stone pillar. “What? Have! You! Done! To! Her?” he spat.

With no more than a single look at Snapes’ hands, Remus Lupin freed himself from his grip and turned his head. Following his gaze, Harry noticed that a couple of students had already exited the Great Hall and were now staring at them, wide-eyed and frightful.

“I suppose we had better discuss that matter up in the Headmaster’s office,” Remus suggested. 

OO

Up in the circular room Albus Dumbledore let his gaze wander across the four wizards who had assembled themselves in front of his desk.

“Well, that’s quite a surprise to have you four sitting in my office,” he began with a mild smile. “Kindly tell me, what is this emergency committee about?”

When none of them made any effort to speak Dumbledore creased his brows, not at all looking forward to what appeared to be turning into a complicated conversation. Then, suddenly all four of them started to explain at once.

“I was wondering about Hermione’s whereabouts –”

“…got a letter from Snuffles today, who asked if Herm – ”

“...might be a new way of contacting Miss Granger –”

“...whether Hermione was all right ..” was all he managed to understand out of the mess of information and the humour of the situation hit him.

“Ahh, so Miss Granger is the topic of discussion, I see,” he smiled. “Perhaps Remus as our guest should take the first part to explain then.”

With that he gestured encouragingly towards the one addressed.

OO

With a feeling of nervousness, Remus cleared his throat. “Thank you Headmaster. Well, as I said, I was wondering about Hermione’s whereabouts. You see,” he fumbled with the inside pocket of his cloak and placed the old, leather-bound photo-album in his lap. 

“I have been having strange dreams recently, in which a young woman –” At this a sharp, false laugh from Snape distracted him and Remus swallowed. He was very well aware of how this sounded, nonetheless he continued his explanation, determined not to give Snape the opportunity of seeing him blush. “A young woman – with the name ‘Géraldine Henshler’ attended Hogwarts along with my friends and me in our final year. This witch looked strikingly like Hermione and sometimes the things I dreamed about felt so much like a part of my real past that I … I began to doubt my mental health.”

At this another snort from Snape interrupted his explanation. Trying his best not to be affected by this, Remus continued: “I was really worried about losing my mind, until I dreamed about a day when Frank Longbottom took some photos at the pub. I took a look at my album in the morning and – And I –” he carefully turned the photo album around so the others could see the pictures upright, “…wanted to show you this.”

OO

Curiously Harry leaned forward. Ron’s head was so close that a few strands of his fierily red hair brushed across his cheek, blocking part of his view. Nonetheless he clearly recognised the interior of ‘The Three Broomsticks’ – he recognised the table even.

It was one of the cosier ones in the back of the pub, where he, Ron and Hermione preferred to sit.

In this picture, though, a couple of other Gryffindor students were seated around the familiar table. He had seen other pictures of his parents before, nonetheless he gulped with surprise at the sight of them, seated at the short end of the table, so close together that they were taking hardly more room than the space for one.

They looked very happy, he noted. His mum whispered something into his dad’s ear, whose hair was a funny length in Harry’s opinion. James smiled and whispered a response, nodding into the direction of the couple behind Lily’s back. But it was his mum glancing over her shoulder that led Harry’s gaze at the object of his parents’ interest.

A much younger, happier looking version of Professor Lupin, who tried to get the girl beside him to smile into the camera, by tickling her. And this girl, with her long, curly hair, who was wriggling to escape the teasing, was none other than the topic of their discussion. Hermione Granger.

Harry heard Ron gasping beside him, but could hardly blame him. It was the strangest sight to see their friend amid the teenage versions of his parents and their friends.

After this the revelation of a younger, healthier-looking Sirius and Peter Pettigrew’s younger self next to him, was not much of a surprise.

There were two more pictures on the page showing a similar scene. But at the bottom right-hand corner of the page, a square, picture-sized patch of lighter, pristine parchment revealed the existence of another, recently-removed photograph.  Briefly, Harry wondered what this fourth picture might have shown and if it had been removed for a purpose.

But there was something else that caught his eye. In all three photographs a dark-haired boy watched the scene from outside the window, a look of misery and jealousy on his face. He had never expected Snape to have ever been so human and he almost felt sympathy for him.

Uncertainly, Harry lifted his eyes to look at the man and met the all-too-familiar cold glare in his beetle-black eyes. Harry flinched at this elder version of Snape, who looked just as dark and spiteful as ever.

It was Dumbledore who broke the tension. “Well this picture proves our theories, Severus, doesn’t it?”

Severus Snape cleared his throat. “It has the appearance, yes,” he admitted shortly.

“What’s that supposed to mean, it proves your theories, sir?” Harry cut in, excitedly, his eyes accusingly fixing Dumbledore’s gaze. “So you knew all the time ‘when’ she was and haven’t told us?!”

“Harry,” the Headmaster tried to explain. “You see, we wanted to be sure before we –”

“So you knew she was with my mum and dad,” Harry cried out, an angry glitter in his emerald green eyes.

“But you didn’t bother telling me. And I trusted you! I supposed you to –”

“That’s enough, Mr. Potter!” Snape cut in sharply. “How dare you speak to the Headmaster like this!? Insufferable brat – ”

That did it. With an annoyed gasp, Harry jumped to his feet, the sound of his chair clattering to the floor pounded loud through the quietness of the room. “What do you know, how much we worried about her? You – you –”

“Yes, what is it, Potter?” Snape mocked, his dark eyes glittering threateningly. “Spit it out if you dare –”

Both of them were cut short by Dumbledore raising his hand. “Severus, Harry, please. There’s no need for personal grudges to complicate things.”  

His first attention went to Severus, whose chin was furiously stuck out and who fixed Harry with an angry, spiteful glare.

“Severus, I thank you for your attempt to speak up for me, but we mustn’t forget what a shock this revelation means to Mr. Potter, who really cares deeply for his friend. He has the right to be angry.”

After this his light-blue eyes focused on Harry, who still shook with rage. “As for you, Harry, I can very well imagine your disappointment in me, but you will certainly understand that we wanted to be sure before we gave any sort of information away. In fact, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape and I dreamed about Miss Granger’s presence in that time and recently Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout consulted me about a ‘weird suspicion’ as they called it. Like ourselves, they had dreamed about a student of the name ‘Géraldine Henshler’ whose presence altered their prior memories. As they weren’t informed of Miss Granger’s real problems back then, they couldn’t really bring these weird new ‘memories’ in contact with their old ones, but with Miss Granger missing and given the fact that the mysterious Miss Henshler looked so much like our Hermione, they didn’t hesitate to fill me in about their suspicions. And I’m almost positive that a couple of other colleagues like the Professors Flitwick and Binns will see me about just this topic sooner or later.”

At Harry’s blunt look he continued mildly, “It doesn’t happen every day that we find our past affected by a person we suppose to only exist in the present. It’s very strange and complicated for all of us. As far as I know something like this has never happened before. Miss Granger has been very lucky I might point out, to not harm herself by travelling that far in time. A Time-Turner isn’t made for a journey like that.” 

When Harry continued to angrily stare the edge of Dumbledore’s desk, the old wizard sighed deeply. “Why don’t you tell me what brought you up to my office this morning?”

Because of his anger, Harry did not respond to this straight away and Ron blurted out in his place: “It’s because of the letter he got from Si – Auuu – ”

With a sharp jab of his right elbow Harry silenced his friend. “I received a letter containing a strange request about Hermione’s well being this morning and – Maybe you better read it yourself,” he added with a tentative side-glance at the Potions Master.

With that he passed the note to Dumbledore, who read it carefully. “Hmmm –” the old man remarked, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “That’s another hint in the right direction, I suppose. What do you think of this, Remus?”

Like Dumbledore, Lupin read the note carefully. “Hmhm,” he nodded finally. “Yes, it has the appearance.”

Ignoring Snape’s outstretched hand he crumpled the parchment and threw it into the hearth, where it immediately lit up and burned to ashes.

“Would anyone be so kind to tell me what that letter was about?” Snape snapped in a new flash of fury.   

When none of the others made an attempt to explain he leaped to his feet and stormed out of the office, his black robes billowing behind him. 

Sadly, Dumbledore shook his head. “That wasn’t nice of you Remus,” he sighed. “I know you only did so out of concern about Sirius, but for Severus it can’t be easy to be left out like this. I really think we should fill him in about the matter.”

At these words a new argument broke free between the four wizards. 

OO

Severus Snape leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. The ginger tomcat in the chair beside him stretched itself with a heartfelt yawn and curled up again to slumber on. Once again Severus had spent a whole night in the library at his research. He was exhausted and worn out and morning was already creeping through the high windows in his back, but this time it had been worth the trouble. Around four in the morning he had discovered an ancient, well-worn recipe for a potion that might turn out to be useful. He could hardly recognize the tiny, narrow letters. In several places the ink had faded and if this had not been enough, it was written in Latin. 

Luckily he had taken it as an elective subject when he had studied Potions at Stonehenge. Nonetheless it was difficult.

So he was not at all pleased about the disturbance, when Remus Lupin of all people peered through the entrance door around dawn.

Seemingly oblivious to his angry glare, the Werewolf had the nerve to step closer and even sit down at the same table Severus was working at.

“Ah – I had a fairly good idea I would find you here,” Lupin smiled as if their earlier dispute had never happened.

“Is there anything troubling you?” Severus asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Besides the waxing moon, you mean?” Lupin taunted just as acidly as Severus, but became serious again the next second.

“I couldn’t sleep and spent the night searching my books for any hint of how to solve the problem.”

“Now, Lupin, don’t traumatise me. A Gryffindor mentioning reading and thinking in one sentence is a little too much to take at this early hour.”  

To the Potions Master’s dismay, Lupin did not respond to the challenge in his comment. He simply smiled inscrutably. “Well, not all Gryffindors are merely interested in outdoor activities, as you should have very well noticed by now.”

His eyes then wandered off towards the chair in which the ginger fur ball was softly purring at the sound of Severus’ voice.

“Oh, but that’s Crookshanks,” he stated with surprise. Severus’ head snapped up at that. “Who?” he asked bluntly.

“Hermione’s pet,” Lupin explained with a nod in the direction of the familiar. “She cares very much about him. Is he well?”

“Yes, yes, he is well,” Severus declared, a little taken aback. “I came across him in the halls the night after Miss Granger’s disappearance. And he insisted on following me around since,” he added, a little embarrassed.

A slight smile slipped across Lupin’s features. “That’s very kind of you, Severus. The poor fellow must be suffering to be parted from his Mistress.”

Severus did not really know how to respond. He was not used to having a decent conversation with Lupin and it did not feel like safe ground to him to speak of Hermione of all people.

“We get along quite well,” he remarked tensely after a couple of seconds.

Another enigmatic smile from Lupin made him feel extremely uncomfortable. “I’m sure she will be very pleased to hear that, when she gets back.”

Severus supposed his face must have shown his surprise as Lupin decided to explain his statement.

“Albus said, you also remember events of the past that involved her,” he began. Severus nodded carefully.

“If so, you probably remember the day the photos I showed to you earlier, were taken?”

Once again Severus nodded, still not sure where this conversation would lead. “Yes, it was the first Hogsmeade weekend after the Christmas break, and I had been talking to Herm – Miss Granger – before you lot came to disturb us.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Lupin smiled, “as I said, Frank Longbottom took these photographs with his new camera, after you left. But you probably know that as we all recognised your face at the window from outside.”

At Severus’ dark scowl he quickly continued: “But have you ever seen photographs that have been developed in a Hidden-Wish Potion?”

Severus’ head snapped up at these words. “The Hidden-Wish Potion brings out a person’s inner feelings and makes them act in the way they would want to, but don’t dare,” he quoted bluntly.

Lupin nodded. “Yes and it has exactly the same effect on any film exposed to it. The people in the picture act like they would have wanted to in the portrayed situation. So whatever the observer sees is not what has happened, but what everyone would have liked to do. For understandable reasons, this can become quite embarrassing for such people. That‘s why I removed the fourth photo from the Album earlier. For his birthday we gave Frank such a potion as a present and he developed one of the pictures with the Hidden-Wish essence for each of us. Well, anyway. This is mine. I thought you might want to have a look at it.”

“What am I supposed to see in there, Lupin?” Snape asked snidely. “You and Miss Granger snogging each other senseless?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Lupin gave back just as acidly. “What’s your problem? If these things are bothering you so much, why didn’t you ask her out, Severus?”

“I?” Severus gasped. “Why I? You did Lupin? How dare you tell me –”

“Take a look at the picture,” Lupin told him briskly.

Without any further word, he rushed out of the library, leaving Severus staring at the photograph in his hands.  

It was taken at ‘The Three Broomsticks’, like the others he had seen earlier that day; but in this picture, the subjects were not only moving as was usual in wizards’ photographs, they were also audibly speaking as soon as the observer’s attention focused on them.

The first thing Severus noticed was the constant whirr of murmuring and laughter that filled the old bar room, and the sound of rain pattering against the windows. It was like an extraordinarily vivid dream, or memory. It almost felt like being there.

His eyes took in the familiar details of the scene he had once witnessed from a different angle. Immediately his gaze settled on his own face outside the window, staring furiously through the glass.

Then all of a sudden, the boy briskly turned away and disappeared into the night.

The next thing Severus noticed was Pettigrew getting up from his seat and crossing the picture to join a group of laughing Hufflepuff girls at a table to the right. “Hello, it’s Miriam, isn’t it?” he addressed a pretty black-haired girl, who looked up at him in surprise. “You’re in my Transfiguration class, right?”

“Yes Peter, for seven years,” she smiled and her friends giggled at the statement. Miriam silenced them with a frown and turned towards Peter again. “We were just about to play a game of Exploding Snap. Wouldn’t you like to join us?” Pettigrew did not hesitate to take that offer, grinning happily across his whole round face.

‘Brilliant,’ Severus thought bitterly, ‘with the help of the Secret-Wish Potion even Pettigrew manages to get himself a girl; the only poor oaf who still runs alone through a rainy January’s night has to be you, my lad.’

Quite depressed, he focused his attention back onto the table, but did not find much difference in Evans and Potter, neither of whom was in any position to make any comments about the new situation as they seemed to be constantly joined at the lips.

A little apart from them a quite embarrassed-looking Hermione was seated between Black and Lupin. She seemed to feel completely out of place and was uncomfortably shifting in her seat. Given the fact that she was lost in a different time, Severus could not blame her for that. Suddenly Black’s hand disappeared under the table and a smug grin crept over his face. But it was Hermione’s reaction that truly troubled Severus. Her whole posture tensed from one second to the other and a mixture of embarrassment and anger reddened her cheeks. “Sirius!” she gasped furiously.

“What is it?” Black asked with an innocent twinkling in his eyes for which Severus felt the urge to strangle him, “Don’t you like that? You have such beautiful legs, Géraldine –”

A loud smacking sound was heard and Black held his left cheek, which had the clear imprint of Hermione’s hand on it. “How dare you paw me like that?” she hissed, her eyes blazing.

“But Géraldine,” Black stammered, clearly devastated by her reaction to his advances.

At this point Lupin cut in, telling Black off for being a total jerk to act like that – and Severus might have felt sympathy for the Werewolf-boy, had it not been for the fact that he reached for Hermione’s hand in the process.

“Don’t mind him so much, Géraldine,” Lupin whispered and leaned awfully close to her, “he can’t help being a jerk.”

At this comment, and Black’s snide response that Lupin ‘was the one to tell, when he was drooling over her himself’, Severus almost laughed out aloud as it was so hilarious to see the inseparable Marauders get at each other’s throats for saying what Severus had been thinking all the time. It was thoroughly amusing to watch this scene. Evans and Potter did not even look up from their snogging session.

But it was Hermione’s reaction that really did it for Severus. “Sirius, you’re a jerk,” she told him, before she turned her head to the boy to her left. “Thanks for being so understanding, Remus,” she whispered, squeezing Lupin’s hand gently, before she disappeared beneath the table and crawled out at the other side. “I need to go, I’m sorry.”

With that she whirled around to storm out of the door, but collided with the dark-haired boy, who had just entered the pub.

Severus gulped at the sight of his excited younger self, dreading what might come next, but Hermione seemed to have no such second thoughts. In one fluid movement she flung her arms around the boy’s neck and leaned her head against his chest. “Severus,” she laughed.  “I was just coming to look for you.”

“Hermione, I –” he heard himself mumble and much to his shock Severus witnessed Hermione covering his younger self’s mouth with a fierce kiss and as if that were not enough, she dragged him away into the dark, narrow nook by the coat rack. They were completely hidden from the older Severus’ view now, only Hermione’s giggling told of their presence and – current occupation.

“Hermione?! What? Hermione!!” his younger self’s shocked, but obviously quite happy exclamation could be heard from the nook, muffled by the cloaks around and her lips on his.

Then, completely unexpectedly, a light-grey pullover was hurled out of the coat rack and Severus gulped at the sight of the Slytherin house crest on it.

“Hermione!?!” his younger self gasped again and she giggled.   

OO

Back in the past matters were not going half as well for them. Nothing had changed between Hermione and Severus. They still did not talk to each other, nor seemed there to be any hope for a change in this.

The next morning’s Potions lesson, though, brought a surprise neither of them had been prepared for. It was the first class since Peter had smuggled the dung bomb into Severus’ and Lucius’ cauldron.

With a sickeningly pleased expression on her face, Figg let her gaze wander across to Hermione, who cowered miserably in her seat.

She then turned her attention towards the class again.

“As this is your final year at Hogwarts and almost all of you are doing quite well in this class,” Figg glared at poor Frank, who shrank into his seat under her dark scowl, “I have decided to give you the opportunity to brew and experience one of the more powerful concoctions. An essence which can’t be found in the extra section of your textbooks even. The Mind-Shifting Potion. I advise you to be very careful about whom you choose for your partner as this potion will allow them to take a look inside the darkest, most urgent and shameful worries and secrets of your mind and the deepest desire of your heart.”

At those words a tense silence settled over the students. Each of them wondering with whom they were to pair up.

Hermione could recognise more than one worried face around her. She sighed deeply. Under normal circumstances, she would have worked along with Severus, but he had not even looked at her so far.

Lily and James smiled at each other like maniacs. There was no chance that her friend would pair up with her for this task. A slight chill of panic started to build up in Hermione’s chest when she thought that this might give her partner, whoever it was, information about the future.

Remus occurred as the best choice to her. She already knew his darkest secret and had a fairly good idea of what his deepest wish might be. And he would certainly be the easiest to reassure about the things he might discover about the future.

If she only did not end up with Sirius, she thought frantically. She certainly doubted that he might take the news about his future very well, neither would he like to find out how deeply she cared about Severus.

At that thought all the blood drained from her face and she sent a nervous glance in her secret love’s direction. His dark eyes looked straight into hers. He must have been staring at her for some time.

With a sharp snarl, Figg drew their attention back towards her, but Hermione could hardly believe her ears at the Potions Mistress’ next words.

“I see everyone has paired up, that’s fine. But in one case I can’t accept your choices, I’m afraid. Given the unlucky development your last teamwork took, I can’t allow you to work alongside each other this time. This potion asks for precise work and I don’t want to risk my classroom by another accident. Mr. Malfoy you better pair up with Mr. Nott today and Mr. Snape, why not work along with Miss Henshler again? The outcome of your previous partnership was rather pleasant.”

OO

Severus was more than uncomfortable about this arrangement, but had no choice other than to follow the order.

He briefly wondered if Figg had paired him up with a Gryffindor student because she did not want to risk him ‘exchanging minds' with Lucius, whom most people expected be involved with the dark side. She might be a really beastly teacher, but Severus had no doubts that she belonged to the light and would not want to endanger him by the possibility that Lucius might read his true feelings about serving the Dark Lord.

On the other hand she might be simply enjoying the thought of embarrassing her least favourite student, which was clearly the case.

He need not look at Hermione to tell that she was just as uncomfortable about this arrangement as he was.

Under the curious stare of their classmates, who were of course aware of the gossip around them, Severus rose from his seat and took his cauldron and working materials to the Gryffindor side.

Like the first time he had done this, he felt every eye in the room staring at him, but today no silently mouthed ‘Hi’, was exchanged between him and Hermione.

She did not even look up, just shifted uncomfortably in her seat when he sat down beside her, and he carefully avoided accidentally touching her.

Without a single glance at each other they started to prepare the tasks Figg listed on the board. They only spoke when it was unavoidable and never looked at each other, and a silent fury about her stupid over-reaction to his little gift filled in for his misery and made him grind his teeth. ‘Who did she think she was, for treating him like this?’ 

But all the time Severus was working in awkward silence next to her, he tortured himself with thoughts of what her reaction would be once she had taken a look inside his heart.

OO

Finally, after what seemed to be ages, the essence was finished and there was nothing else to do. They could not defer the dreaded moment any longer. Slowly and hesitatingly, Hermione lifted her head to look at Severus. His dark eyes were wide with fear, she noted, before he hastily drew his gaze away.

He was avoiding her, she realised – and a sudden rush of anger filled her heart and filled in for the misery and desperation of the previous weeks. How dare he treat her like this? What had she done that was so horrible that he could not even stand the sight of her anymore?

But this was neither time nor place to muse on these matters. They each held a small test tube of crystal clear liquid in their hands, ready to accomplish the last working step.

It was an awkward moment, as neither had the chance to focus on any other task anymore. They were bound to deal with each other now, but neither dared to take the first step.

When Hermione lifted her head to look at him again, Severus looked just as scared and unhappy as she felt. She could not help but give him a scared little smile that mirrored her own worries.

Slowly he lifted his left hand and brought it to the side of her ear and for a split second Hermione had the bizarre impression that he wanted to cup her cheek. Her eyes widened with surprise and a pain, a tightness filled her chest that made it difficult to breathe. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that she was sorry for whatever she had done to hurt him. The next second, though, she gasped at the feel of a single hair being ripped from her scalp.

“I’m sorry,” Severus muttered hastily and threw the hair into his test tube. With a soft hissing noise the hair melted into the potion and turned it into a caramel-coloured, creamy substance.

As soon as Hermione had recovered from her first surprise, she reached for one of Severus’ raven-black strands.

Carefully, so not to hurt him, she separated a single hair and tugged it out. “I’m sorry,” she mimicked his former apology and a wide grin slipped across her face.

Startled but glad, Severus returned the smile and watched as she added his hair to the liquid in her test tube. With a likewise hiss it dissolved as soon as it made contact with the potion. Essence of Severus’ inner soul was blood-red, Hermione noted.

“Are you ready?” he whispered hoarsely and she merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

With a last glance into each other’s eyes they raised their test tubes to their lips and tilted their heads back.

A/N: I hope you had fun reading this. :) Lots of thanks for commenting/leaving a kudo.

Smiles, Serpentina

Chapter Text

Determinedly Hermione swallowed the thick blood-red potion in one go. It smelled entirely neutral, but tasted pleasantly of strawberries and pepper.

Warm and smoothly it passed its way down her throat and caused a wave of heath to well up inside her. Warmth spread through all of her body and the sound of her own rushing heartbeat pondered loudly in her ears.

The blood rushed like molten fire through her vessels. She could sense it running its way along the bigger and smaller arteries, could feel its perfusion into the finest, tiniest capillary even. Her head – her whole being felt as light as a feather all of a sudden – as if she were able to levitate her body without the help of a broom.

Her head started spinning – the Potions classroom with its rows of dark-wood tables and the faces of her fellow students around blurred into an unreal scene, like sunlight caught in the blear of an early morning’s mist, or the clouded vision of someone feverish.

There was no other sound to her ears than that of her steadily quickening heartbeat and the blood floss pondering trough the capillaries of her ears. She felt a slight film sweat appear on her forehead and briefly wondered if this was a normal reaction to the potion. Her vision of the room became more and more unfocused as blood-red mist seemed to enclose her from the edges of her visible angle until she could not see anything else but Severus’ pale, frightened face.

His intense beetle-black eyes full of sadness and unspoken troubles – they absorbed her gaze like endless dark tunnels – their velvety blackness capturing her every thought and feeling.

Nothing else seemed to exist – nothing and no one else mattered – nothing at all.

She could see his pupils widening more than she had ever deemed it possible – there was only the smallest rest of black irises left around them – they became a passageway through which she felt him invading her own thoughts – and – at the same time – she seemed to be dragged away into some far distant land – was taken away by a stream of emotion into the deepest, most secret corners of his mind.

OO

It was dark in there. Dark – and quiet. Yet – not completely dark – but almost.

Hermione blinked several times to bring the vague, dark greyish shapes around into focus.

This was some kind of room she was in – some wide, dim hallway.

She turned around in wonder. Her feet made soft scrapping noises on the thick ancient stone plates.

She blinked again as if this could drive the darkness and shadows back and in a way she did succeed. After her eyes had adjusted to the dim atmosphere she realised that this was indeed some kind of vast hallway – or dome.

It somehow reminded her of a very old, beautiful but deserted church. Massive stone pillars, ending in tremendous lancet arches reached up high above her head, while the ceiling was hidden in darkness.

She shivered at the thought how well this place suited Severus’ intellect.

A vast room, the inner nature of someone who was not at all ‘narrow-minded’, but could swing up to great highs, that’s outcome was still hidden in the shadows above. Different paths to travel – various choices – and yet, she knew which way he would choose, knew what kind of a bitter, gruesome person he would become – in her time.

The foreboding of gloom was already lurking in every corner, behind each pillar – closing her in – pointing out Severus’ path into the gathering darkness.

Very faint, spare light still fell in through a huge round picture window to her right. Due to its size there should have been much more light inhere, but whatever was out there – night seemed to enclose quickly on the hall that was Severus’ mind – and on her within – and an icy cold seemed to creep out of the vast room’s bare stonewalls.

Shivering, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and tilted her head back to contemplate the circular window.

It was built of green, red, yellow, blue and some clear fragments that constantly shifted like a gigantic kaleidoscope. But not only did the fragments switch their places, they also varied in number so that the window’s movements changed the room’s atmosphere from dreamlike, or rather sad blue, over frightening ghostly green and sunny yellow to deep ruby-red, depending on which colour had the majority.

Since there was only a very little amount of light that hit the window, the current atmosphere was somewhat mysterious and dreamlike.

Carefully watching her every step Hermione rounded the whole vast hall, tilting her head back to catch a glance at the ceiling. The rough outlines of figures in long, flowing robes made her immediately think of the magnificent frescos and murals she’d seen on some churches ceilings before, only that these figures above were neither cherubs nor chubby-faced, curly-haired angels surrounded by a puffy couple of fluffy white clouds, but the unfocussed, vague outlines of dark clad frames, who seemed to be restlessly – and somewhat threatening – gliding along, their faces masked by darkness. These shadows seemed to be hovering above her like the foreboding of the terrors that she knew lay ahead in Severus life.

After she had reached the point from which she had started, Hermione finally realised there was no door inhere – no escape – and the only window was way too high above her head to take a glance outside.

Right now the place was still sparely lit by the light of the fading sun, but darkness seemed to reach for her from out of every corner and the shadows around deepened quickly.

On a bright day this hall must be barthed in impulses of light, floating in through the window’s circle of colours, but since darkness fell so quickly at the time being, the room was crammed by no other colours than those of the pale yellow and grey sand stone and the fade reflection of the window’s fragments on the floor.

Finally her eyes settled on the only objects inhere. A large table was placed in midst the hall.

It was of old, partly cracked and scorched dark wood and so long that both of its ends seemed to disappear into darkness. Stepping closer, Hermione recognised that a long row of various shaped flasks and bottles was placed atop this table and that a cauldron rested in front of it on a three-legged iron stand. 

After a brief moment of consideration Hermione drew her conclusions quickly. She would have to – brew – her way into Severus’ memories as it seemed.

But where to begin? She could hardly inspect all these flasks in the short time she was allowed to stay in here.

Thoughtfully she strode along the long row of flasks, unsure of which one to choose. All of them were labelled with little signs telling date and place of the memory.

A smile crept across Hermione’s face as she reached out for one of the first at the left end of the line.

It was a small bulged bottle containing a pale sky-blue liquid, which sparkled faintly as she held it against the light. She could recognise Severus’ neat high-angled handwriting on the label.

-Somewhere in between 1963-64- it read.

An old memory it was. Fascinated, Hermione blew off the layer of dust covering it. Carefully she pulled out the stopper to test the scent. The bottle felt cold against her hand and smelled of – ice. Of hoarfrost on an early winter’s day.

After a moment of hesitation she cautiously filled a few droplets into the crystal clear liquor which already filled the cauldron’s bottom and pointed her wand at it to light a fire beneath.

“Incendio,” Hermione muttered and the sound of her whispering echoed through the vast, quiet hall.

She waited, holding her breath, but nothing happened – first.

Then, when she was already dreading she had not been right about her expectations, bluish grey steam began to rise from the cauldron… and the …voice… of …a very small… child filled …the air...

It drifted …in to her from somewhere out of this… bluish grey mist of memories, …which seemed to be all around her, invaded her… mind …and soul and made her feel… sadness …and misery... It seemed to come …from out of some far away distance, out of different time and space, but quickly… grew nearer… and more real the more… the cloud of sky-blue steam around her cleared.

When she looked round herself, blinking against the change of light, she found that she was no longer in the dim hallway, but in an almost dark room with thick blue carpeting. For all it appeared it was a bedroom, or rather some kind of nursery of an erstwhile epoch.

It was of undoubtedly noble design, filled with valuable furnishings of dark walnut wood, but contained nothing of the cosiness a room like this should hold.

The heavy, likewise blue curtains of the two high windows in front of her were drawn shut so that the only light, currently illuminating the furnishings, fell in from the corridor.

Heavy, dark walnut wood in stern, almost threatening design. As little light there was, it deepened the outlines of the carvings and gave them a dark, sinister appearance.

There were few things personal in here. A small pile of children’s robes was neatly placed atop the single chair to her right, obviously prepared for next morning.

A box with wooden puppets was positioned in front of one of the windows and Hermione could vaguely recognise a group of some more bewitched figures as they moved towards the edge of the table between the windows. One by one a wooden Unicorn, a Centaur and some Hippogriffs jumped over the edge to settle to sleep amongst their companions. Close by a locomotive wooden dragon was placed, that could be pulled along on a string so that its feet would clang to the floor with each turn of the wheels.

That – was all.

The walls were kept in lighter shades of blue than the carpet, but their thin, vertical stripes gave a very stern appearance as well. The effect was only increased by a row of, dark-wood framed pictures which showed scenes of Wizarding fairy tales. Dragons mostly, breathing fire against their opponent, presenting long, razor-sharp teeth, furiously spreading and batting their wings. In one picture a group of Centaurs with long, sharp lances surrounded one of the beasts and tried to keep it in control, but their chances did not seem high. Another picture showed  a tiny, fragile looking boat in mid troubled, up-spraying water, clutched in the orange-white tentacles of a giant Squid and a single wizard, who bravely stood up to the attacker rising his wand despite the situation’s hopelessness.

All in all not the cosiest of decorations, but rather scenes of a nightmare. A very Wizarding nightmare to be precise. 

To her left, right besides the door a high, massive wardrobe was towering, its shadow elongated in a threatening way. Shuddering, Hermione turned around.

The wall in her back had a voluminous chest of drawings placed to it and next to this... She gasped.

A small, black-haired boy in a long white night-gown sat in a cross-legged position on top a likewise walnut-wood bed, his hands tightly grabbing the blankets.

It took Hermione a few seconds to recognise the child. He could not be any older than three, she supposed, probably not even that. For some reason he seemed to be highly upset. The familiar black eyes appeared huge in the small, frightened face.

“Mother, can’t I come along – with you,” he pleaded.

“Of course not! Be sensible, Severus,” a female voice told him, sternly. 

Surprised, Hermione turned her head towards the speaker. It was only then that she noticed the tall, slender silhouette of a woman in the doorway, whose long raven-black hair was wound into an elegant knot.

“I told you that your father and I have to attend that meeting. It’s important. You can come along and play with Lucius next weekend, but not today. Children aren’t supposed to be up this late. Now be a good boy and lay down to sleep.”

For a moment, it looked as if Severus meant to complain as a very troubled expression crossed his face. Then, very reluctantly, his hands let go of the comforter.

Hermione could hear the rustling of the woman’s clothes, as she passed by her. She even dreaded the hem of the witches long, black robes might brush against her ankle, when she came close to the spot Hermione stood in, but never felt the contact, nor did the woman see her.

Harry had been right. One could not be noticed exploring the memories of another, could not interfere, but was dammed to just watch and listen.

Therefore Hermione observed how little Severus crawled under the covers as his mother told him. His face wore an unhappy look that quickly changed to crying when the woman bent down to quickly tug him in, before she turned to leave.

“Mother,” he sobbed. “Don’t go – away – p-please…”

“Severus!” the witch turned in the doorway, “The answer is ‘No’. Do you hear that? I won’t take you to the Malfoys at this hour. It’s late. Lucius will have to sleep now and so have you, I might add.”

“I know… but Mother, don’t leave… it’s so …dark. I’m … so afraid,” the little boy wailed.

“Nonsense,” the black-haired witch told him with an annoyed undertone. “Be quiet now, Severus. Bonny is downstairs. There’s no reason to be afraid. I need to go now. We don’t want to be late.”

The door was shut and the room was suddenly – dark.

Hermione had never felt darkness so frightening before. Shadows were all around her, reached for her out of every corner, their long, icy fingers brushing her senses, clenching her heart, invading her thoughts... Breathing became incredibly hard all of a sudden.

It was too dark to even recognise the shape of the cot from where the ragged, uneven sound of crying told her of Severus’ misery. She was pretty much sure that the irrational fear she felt was what the little boy experienced right then.

Despite her fear, Hermione felt a rush of anger towards Severus’ mother, as well as an intense wave of affection and pity with the upset, frightened little boy that he was in this memory. Now she actually regretted the fact that she could not intervene. She craved to pick the upset child out of his bed to comfort and soothe him.

Sod the rules of Time-Travelling. This was different, wasn’t it? It wouldn’t affect the present – or future – in any way, if she consoled Severus’ childhood self – in a memory – would it?

But then, it might be a good thing that she was unable to interfere. It would have probably frightened him even more to find some unknown person in his bedroom in the dark of night who reached for him out of the shadows. Hermione had never sensed the darkness so intensely. But then she had never seen it though a three years old Severus’ eyes before.

Grudgingly, she cowered in the darkness of his bedroom… until, after …what seemed like an incredible long time …the crying… slowly ebbed …away… and her vision cleared again.

This must have been when Severus had fallen asleep she supposed.

Hermione blinked a few times to clear her thoughts.

OO

She was once again in the dim, vast hallway, but the light around had changed. Like a kaleidoscope the glass fragments in the circular window shifted into new positions, drawing a new kind of pattern across the floor.

The current majority was held by a very pale, icy blue, adding a note of sadness and anguish to the room and maybe there also was a note of defeat she sensed in it.

So this had been one of Severus’ first memories. How sad that it had to be the cold-hearted rejection of his mother.

With a sigh, Hermione turned back towards the long table. The next bottle a few memories apart from the first, brought her to - The Malfoys’ Manor, in July 1968 –

Now …that the… basic essence …was already… heated the …steam rose more… soon …when she poured… some …amount of the ‘Malfoy-Potion’ into the cauldron.

And soon afterwards… she found herself in a vast park on a sunny afternoon. A pale-blond and a dark- haird boy around seven were gliding across the park’s neatly cut lawn on their broomsticks. Toy brooms they were, not lifting their owners any higher than a few inches above the ground. Hermione had seen similar ones at the Quidditch World Cup, she remembered.

The pale, blond boy, who resembled Draco Malfoy to a great deal, wore a smug grin on his face. “Hey Severus,” he stated. “Guess what? I know where the real brooms are kept! Shall we give it a try?”

“No, I don’t think we should, Lucius,” the black-haired boy answered, tentatively, but his friend urged him on.

“Oh come. Just because we shouldn’t doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun!”

A feeling of uncomfortabness struck Hermione and even before Severus finally agreed, she could tell that this was just bound to go SO wrong.

With a very bad feeling in her guts she followed the two boys as they sneaked up the steps to the terraces and slipped through the wide open double-door wings into the small salon. After carefully glancing into both directions, they crossed the dim Entrance Hall’s black marble floor and little Lucius lead the way through a long corridor with burgundies carpeting and – to Hermione’s horror – right into a broom-closed.   

She followed closely, reliving all this as a silent, unnoticed witness. And though her feet did not even make any noise on the marble floor – which was odd – she carefully watched her every step, literally on tiptoes.

All the way Severus was reasoning to better not do this and Hermione could clearly feel his inner struggling. Curiosity, excitement, some fear – and a – very- bad conscience.

“Lucius,” he whispered, nervously, as the other boy picked a magnificent broom with a shiny ebony stick out of its haltering on the wall. “Lucius, wait! I really think we shouldn’t…” His heartbeat seemed to be pounding in his ears and so did Hermione’s.  

Just when she thought Severus might actually leave, the blonde boy turned his head, fixing his companion with a smug grin that was all so familiar to Hermione. “Ha, you know what, Severus? If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re a coward,” he taunted. 

Severus’ head snapped up at that, “I’m NOT!!” he complained vehemently. “I just don’t think…”

“Coward!” the other boy taunted in an annoying sing-sang voice. “I knew it! Nott and Lestrange will be so pissed that they lost the bet.”

Severus’ face darkened at those words. “You bet on me?” he asked angrily.

His companion merely nodded with glee.

“What about?” Severus demanded to know, glaring at the blonde boy.

“Whether you’d have the guts to ride a real broom, or not. But –”  He fixed Severus with an arrogant stare out of his icy-blue eyes, “They most obviously overestimated you. How is it Sevy-ly? Want to go and play with the girls instead?” he sneered and nodded into the direction of the corridor’s window, from where they could observe Mellon McNair, Zahra Zabini  and Grace Goyle who played ‘Potions brewing’ beneath a large ash tree.

That did it.

In a furious rush of actions Severus grabbed the discussed broom and dragged it along with him – outside towards the terraces.

Lucius followed, at his heels, looking definitely surprised, but almost sickening pleased having manipulated the other boy into what he wanted him to do. 

Hermione felt the intense urge to wring the brat’s neck. Once they reached the double doors, things seemed to happen all at once. As soon as the other boys in the grounds caught sight of the broom, they were surrounded by Lestrange, Nott and the rest of the ‘gang’, who excitedly cheered Severus on.

Hermione felt, Severus grow aware of the shapes of his parents and some other adults in the distance, but right now he was too angry to care. He was burning with rage, hurt pride and the desperate longing to prove himself and – Hermione was dragged along. Despite her better knowledge she followed the boys down the terraces and into the park. Severus’ hands were clutching the broom’s polished ebony stick tightly. She could still sense his undeniable discomfort, but – there was no chance to duck out now.

Before Lucius could throw any further insult at him, Severus had mounted the broom and kicked off the ground.

Beside him, Hermione’s timeless, non-solid shape was moving upwards without her doing, followed him like an invisible shadow as he shakingly gathered up speed and height…

Within seconds matters got out of control; the broom spiralled upwards, too rush and forcefully for Severus’ rough, untrained magic to handle. Sky and earth seemed to turn flip-flops round him and Hermione and next thing she felt Severus grow aware of was lying on the grass – panting from the hard contact his back had made with the ground, his wrist aching like hell – and an innocent sounding voice above him.

“It isn’t my fault father! We just wanted to have a look at the brooms, but Severus… He said he’d show us how to ride - I tried to stop him, but – he wouldn’t listen!” Lucius hurried to assure the angry very Malfoy-ish looking blonde man, who bent forward. Much to Hermione’s anger the rest of the group nodded in unison.

Severus, too proud to admit that he had been led on, clenched his teeth in grim silence, while his own father examined his sprained wrist.

“I…” his traitorous companion began once again…

“Enough of that Lucius,” the stern voice of Lucretius Malfoy cut him off, “go up to your rooms now and prepare yourself for dinner. Your friend will be taken care of.”

Hermione sensed all the bitterness along with the pain as Severus’ father magically fixed the injuries, telling him how ashamed he felt for his misbehaviour. She noted his mother in a few feet’s distance, wearing a scandalised expression on her face and Patricia Parkinson, consolingly patting her arm. “That’s boys, my dear, no need to be ashamed.”

To Hermione’s troubled mind all the observant faces seemed to blur into a cloud of misery. It was extraordinary difficult, but all the more important NOT to cry, she noted, biting her lip. Confused, hurt and angry she accompanied Severus, who was sent to clean himself up at the house as well, followed by the murmur and whispering of the other children. Ideas of strangling Lucius were running wild in her head once again.   

They had already crossed the terraces, when all of a sudden a girl’s voice echoed after them. “Severus,” she called and the addressed stopped in the doorway. “Yes, what is it?” he asked, harshly.

“Are you all right?”

Turning around, Hermione looked right into the compassionate brown eyes of seven years old, auburn-haired Mellon McNair. “I know, Lucius tricked you into this. You should tell them, Severus.”

Unfortunately …Hermione was unable to… catch the answer.   

Slowly the vision…. of the Malfoy park and Mellon McNair’s worried… face faded …along with the anger and embarrassment, Severus felt.

The next bottle was a larger one, filled with bright yellow liquid. Hermione checked on the label.

 – August the 13th 1971 –

Slowly and carefully she poured a few drops of its contents into the softly bubbling cauldron. A cloud of yellowish vapour enclosed …her this time and once… the steam cleared, Hermione found herself facing …images of Severus receiving his Hogwarts letter, observed, how he was taken to Diagon Alley by his father, meeting Lucius and his parents at the Leaky Cauldron and watched how the two boys received their Hogwarts equipment and she also got a glance at Nossy as a kitten. Lucius picked a tawny owl instead, which he named ‘Nuntius’. The messenger.

The images whirled around in a haze, short undefined glances of Madam Malkins ordering the boys to climb onto a pair of foot chairs, Mr. Olivander handing them several wands to test. And in the evening, when a blood-red sun declined beneath the treetops, Hermione saw Severus smuggling his new pet into his bed.

She smiled at the sound of Nossy’s excited purring and Severus’ half muffled voice as he told him what he had heard and read of Hogwarts. Then the steam finally cleared again… A happy memory, for… a change.

Fascinated Hermione reached for the next bottle, a tall slim flask, with a liquid so blue that it was almost black – as ink. 

- September 1s t  1971 –

The familiar scarlet-red Hogwarts Express was leaving Kings’ Cross Station on a sunny morning. Lucius and Severus hung out of its window, waving at their parents. For once, both of their faces expressed the same, joy and excitement.

It was very easy for Hermione to get dragged along by the excitement and anticipation of this memory. Severus’ unrest to see all the things he had read in ‘Hogwarts A History’ with his own eyes was well familiar to her. Like back in her first year she felt agitation to see her wildest fantasies of the magical castle proved and find out whether Hogwarts was anyway as marvellous as she had imagined it from what she had read.  

Without any warning the floor seemed to sway beneath her feet and Hermione’s head spun in a haze.

The scenery changed once again and beguiled she relived Severus’ first view of Hogwarts, towering on the bolder atop the lake. She saw him and the other first years enter the never changing Great Hall for their Sorting and felt his stress and nervousness, as McGonagall called him forward.

Hermione was more than a little surprised by the choice the old Sorting Hat made for Severus, though. ‘Ah, it’s a Snape! I quite well remember your father and aunt and their fath… but what’s this? Well, that’s some surprise! I’m quite sure that Ravenclaw would be the best choice for you. How is it, lad, ready to break with the family tradition?’

“No please! I need to be in Slytherin!!” young Severus pleaded frantically. His thoughts echoed aloud in Hermione’s mind. ‘I mustn’t be anywhere else but in Slytherin…’

‘Ah- so not ready, then,” the Hat almost sounded disappointed. “Well, as you wish…”

At that the… vision faded and the… royal-blue light surrounding Hermione, changed to a poisonous green as another degree …of light was lost to the hallway.

All of a sudden the… sound of – laughter – startled her and she almost… dropped the bottle she’d picked next. Hastily, she put it back in its place, but the laughter still rung in her ears. Severus’ laughter, so much she recognised. But where, when, or why he was laughing she didn’t know.   

Maybe it was the potion’s effect clearing, Hermione assumed. She hastily skipped some bottles before she would run out of time and miss the memories she was so curious about.

In 1976 she got a few short glimpses on Lily and the others, mostly Sirius and James playing tricks and pranks on Severus and Lucius as well as them taking revenge.

But she did not dwell long on those memories, but hurried further down the timeline – and finally found what she was looking for.

–1977 December 2ed –

A bright shining, glimmering liquid… restlessly moving and shifting…like quicksilver. And soon after she’d poured… some droplets into the cauldron, she was enclosed by a cloud of light-grey… smoke.

A breathless gasp escaped her throat as she spotted herself in Figg’s classroom, but this time she noted Severus’ struggling whether or not to talk to her. She relived his confusion at her startled reaction to him, his sudden rage as Lucius’ nasty comments and a warm feeling rose inside her chest at the thought that – at least then, he had not appreciated the other boy’s picking on her.

Completely captivated, Hermione rushed through the next couple of memories.

She relived the Whomping Willow incident from Severus’ point of view, his surprise when he had realised that she had indeed come to save him. Her throat tightened as she watched him and herself in a tangled mess in the snow, rolling out of the deathly blows of the furious branches and Remus’ pernicious teeth. 

Her reasoning and emotions were a mess. She could not even tell where her mind and feelings ended and where Severus’ began. Her heart almost burst with shock as she discovered the long gash on his cheek inside the blood smeared mirror above the sink, her – his -  vision clouded by fear and the hot water vapour – she sensed all of his panic to become what Lupin was, now – as well as his worries about her well-being, the nagging feeling of guilt that he had left her all alone in the dark.

Then the ruby-red vision of the blood- and vapour-smeared mirror changed into that of the library’s corridor on Christmas, when she had checked on his wound. Breathlessly, Hermione experienced his torment of emotion and the contradicting feelings he had about her.

And there was something else she noticed.

She could not tell exactly when it had started, but it had to have been around the time when she had explored Severus’ memory of their duelling at the library. Or was it the day he had been watching her and Lily Ice-skating on the lake at Hogsmeade? She did not know, but every time the memories’ fogginess cleared there was another degree of light added to the hallway now, like the first, very faint rays of sunlight braking though a tight blanket of clouds. More and more yellow fragments appeared in the window, adding a warm, sunny note to the surroundings, lightening the mood, spreading the feeling of… sensations of… happiness and ... hope…

Sunlight, infiltrating the vast hall’s every corner, illuminating the cracks and splits on the old table, brightening the reflections in the verity of sparkling potion flasks, brining out the beauty of colours within each single bottle of memories. As if Severus’ view of life had somewhat become clearer, more aspirant – and much happier…

Surely it was a coincidence, or wasn’t it? Could it really be that it was her, who had this effect on him? She did not really dare to believe it, for if it was true the consequence was just – stunning.

Hermione kept opening bottles and flasks and one after another the fragments of memories captivated her.

She was herself, a silent, unnoticed witness to Severus’ memories, yet knowing – feeling – reliving his emotions at every single moment displayed to her. She was feeling, thinking and acting like him – accompanied him at all these memories.

Like Severus she was shaken with rage at Sirius, who tried to force his kiss on her at the Astronomy tower on Sylvester.

Like Severus she leaned into the hug she gave him. It was all the same mess of emotions and a very similar way of feeling at ease with the world, she had felt back then, the same shy, awkward and incredibly intense happiness, only that it was sort of odd to feel like being him and herself all at the same time and to somehow experience that very first embrace they had shared from both their points of views. To witness herself hugging him and yet feel what he had felt that instant knowing it was so similar to her own memory of the moment. 

With the next flask’s potion she grew aware of Severus’ desperate longing to kiss her on the morning of New Year, up there atop the hill by the snow-covered lake – his uncertainty and nervousness. All the things that – had she only known them back then – would have given her the conviction she had lacked to take matters into her own hands.

With trembling fingertips, Hermione reached for the next bottle. She had to know. But there was so little time left… the effects of the potion had to wear off any moment now… if she only managed to come across the one bottle that would tell her what had gone wrong…So far nothing amongst the discoveries she had made explained Severus’ sudden change of behaviour. He seemed to be just as taken with her as she was with him.  

Could it really be… that he cared for her as much as she did? Could it all have been one big misunderstanding?

The memory of the last Hogsmeade weekend brought the final clearance.

It was true.

At Honeydukes Hermione found an incredibly nervous, but happy Severus picking the fateful gift that had caused all the troubles. Stunned she relived their meeting at the bookshop and later chatting at The Three Broomsticks. She now grew aware of Severus’ inner struggling to give her the little Valentine gift right away, watched him finally slip it into the pocket of her cloak as he placed it on the coat rack. She learned of all his hesitation to take the opportunity and ask her to the ball and like him she could have screamed with frustration, when Lily and the rest of her friends had disturbed their cosy little sit in.

Full of sadness she realised that he had watched her and her friends from outside, whishing to just go back in and tell her of his feelings. If she only had left to head back for the castle when she had longed to be there – with him... She would have found out that Severus was not sitting inside the library’s bay window as she had presumed, but lingered right outside the inn’s window, watching her longingly out of the dark.

If only she had she left back then… Severus, noticing her leaving, would have probably headed for the doorway to meet her and they would have had the chance to talk, or maybe walk back together to the castle, all alone in the dark… Would Severus have taken her hand, like James had reached for Lily’s back in December, Hermione wondered. Maybe he would. Maybe not, but maybe, yes – maybe all the past weeks’ misery could have been spared.

Realising the horrible misunderstanding at the library the following morning just added to her despair. So Severus had anxiously waited for her reaction to his display of affection and she, tied up in her own uncertainty, had spoiled it all. From his point of view her defensive way of actions and her tongue-tiedness could only be interpretated as uncomfortableness.  

So he thought she had rejected him.

And Hermione found out about something else she had been wondering about. She finally got to know what the mysterious letter was about that Severus had received the day after – the misunderstanding. She remembered Severus growing all pale and worried, leaving the Great Hall in a hurry. She had left as well, but had stumbled about Peter weeping in the Transfiguration Classroom instead.

Within his memory she learned what else had happened at that time. Severus, there while, had headed up to the owlery, a place most likely to be deserted on a rainy Januaries morning. With trembling fingertips he’d unfolded the piece of parchment with his father’s seal on it, knowing that it was unlikely to contain good news. Had Lucius told his or even Severus’ father about Severus and his interest in the ‘Mudblood’? He was completely terrified that his open display of – well at least liking for her – might have put her in danger. How stupid of him not to think of his family. He had been so perfectly happy and carefree in her presence that he hadn’t cared about people’s attitude. Maybe she was just right not to put up with him.

Pushing those fateful thoughts around in his mind, Severus was almost relieved to find it just a reminder to practice the spells of significance and study hard to prepare himself to meet some important friends of the family the upcoming fall.

When the steam cleared this time, Hermione found her vision still blurred. This was partly because of the tears she had not even noticed she was shedding before – but also and that was much more disturbing – because of the darkness that was once again deepening on the place.

The miserable memory of finding her and Remus hugging by the window on their way to the Arithmancy classroom and the news of her accepting his invitation to the Valentines Ball only added to that effect.

 Hermione did not think she could bear it any longer.

Shouldn’t the time long be over by now, she wondered as she turned round herself to search for the way to lead her back to herself – but like before –there was none.

The only thing she craved to know before leaving this frightful place was whether or not Severus still cared for her.

If there were only a way to experience the inner nature of his soul to find out about his most recent dreads or desires, she wished. But there was hardly any chance, was there?

Having barely finished that thought, Hermione literally stumbled over something on the floor – the ‘sub-part’ of Severus’ hall of consciousness – which made a loud clattering sound. Since it was too dark to recognise a real thing, Hermione kneeled down and very cautiously started to search the shadowy floor. Her fingertips brushed across the icy coolness of the spongy old stone plates until they found the one, no two objects, causing her struggling.

When she brought them up to the light, they turned out to be a pair of small wooden boxes, looking entirely the same from the outside. ‘Wishes’ and ‘Worries’ their labels read and Hermione felt a shudder of fright to see her earlier request answered so precisely. What kind of magic was this that bound them so strongly? Was Severus’ subconscious opening up to her just because she had asked for it? It somehow deemed to her that he had waited – craved – for her to do just that.

Frightening it was…

Thoughtfully Hermione contemplated the boxes for quite a while. In her current state of vulnerability and being as upset as she was right now she did not at all feel consent to face Severus’ worst fears amid a dark, frightening hallway which left no escape of whatever she might find. Therefore she carefully placed the worrisome box atop the table and turned towards the other instead.

Taking in a deep breath to ensure herself of the rightfulness of her actions, she opened the top of the box containing Severus’ desires and peered inside.

It was empty – empty except for some amount of a strange golden-glimmering powder.

Was this some kind of mental or emotional Flow Powder?

A sharp pain struck her. Was his deepest longing that she might leave him alone? Did he wish for her to leave his mind, his thoughts? Did he want to clear his memories off her existence? Or was she once again lost in misinterpretation? 

Frowning Hermione scanned the surroundings once again, expecting that she was supposed to travel out of here by Floo Powder, but – she turned round herself once more, relief washing over her – there was no chimney. So there was only one solution to this…

After a moment of hesitation, she added a small amount of the glimmering powder to the potion and suddenly found herself swept off her feet –

It was a sensation so intense that it was almost physically painful. She wondered if it had been a mistake to add some amount of the powder to the potion. Her heartbeat increased to a frequency that could not be kept up for long and the sound of her own breathing filled her ears.

Thinking became incredible hard and she actually felt afraid.

Hopefully, she supposed, it was just different because it was no real memory but a dream, or rather a fantasy, she was dragged into, but her head started spinning so badly that she had to close her eyes against the dizziness.

She gasped; maybe closing her eyes had not been the best of ideas. It only made her more aware of the tumult of feelings she was captured in.

While she was still wondering whether or not to dare opening her eyes again, the sensation of another person’s breath brushed across her face and the soft odor of Severus filed the air.

Severus was with her. He had somehow found his way into this place, into this hall that was nowhere but inside his own mind. She had no idea how this was possible, but he had.

Nonetheless there was something odd about the sensation. In the very moment before their faces came to contact with each other, their breaths already mingling, Hermione meant to smell herself in the little space there was left between them and – she realised this scent coming from where Severus was supposed to be.

Nonetheless the moment was too valuable, too precious to be spoiled by any kind of reasonable thoughts. Therefore Hermione just leaned forward to bring her lips into contact with his. 

Kissing Severus felt different from anything she had ever imagined it to be. It felt just so right and yet nothing made any sense at all.

It was odd in a very different way than the memory of hugging him before.

Deep inside she knew that she was still herself, Hermione, but in this – fantasy – she was not a mere witness to the happenings, but rather a part of him. She was Severus. It did not make any sense indeed, but she felt being ‘inside’ of his being – somehow – and the feelings and emotions that welled up inside her, that filled her mind, body and soul, were not just her own, but firstly and most thoroughly his and the intensity of emotion she sensed made her cheeks flush.

He loved her.

He loved her with a passion and intensity that left her stunned and breathless.

With a feeling of incredible bliss and happiness Hermione leaned forward and returned the kiss, with all the longing she felt. It did not matter that it felt like kissing herself somehow, that she felt some strands of her very own curly hair brush across her cheek as she leaned towards the very being she expected to be him. 

From out of this mysterious space inside Severus’ mind it felt just right to her. It felt perfect and exciting to feel her own body’s softness pressing against her. To feel her own, Hermione’s hands tingled in those sleek black strands that – strangely enough - surrounded her head now.

It was so incredibly odd and yet, she did not want this sensation, this fantasy, or dream to end. Not ever!

OO

Just as sudden as it had captured her, the experience ended, though. Her vision cleared and she was all alone – was herself – again, standing confused and lost in mid the hallway of Severus’ mind.

The room around was lightening again, more soundly than it ever had before and in an odd, irrational way all colours seemed to mingle.

Bewildered, Hermione turned around to face the table of memories again. At first sight nothing had changed at all. But – when her gaze fell on the opposite wall, she suddenly blinked with surprise.

A doorway had appeared ahead of her. In a place where nothing but bare stones had been only a few moments before, was now a way out. A way forward.

It somewhat resembled the library’s heavy double folders door. Hurriedly, Hermione crossed the distance, the echo of her footsteps sounding hollow through in the vast room. She was not sure if it was wise to leave this hall at all, but she was too curious too thrilled by her most recent detection of Severus’ feelings for her to just ignore the possibility.

Excited and a little frightened, she pressed down the handle and pushed the door open, but when she finally stepped through, she gasped at what she saw…

Chapter Text

After careful consideration Severus was sure to be dead.

He had to be.

Just – if he really was – was it normal for his head to still be spinning from the potion’s after effect?

And why was he thinking at all?

Well that was something he had to toy with. He tried to concentrate harder, tried to remember what had happened since he had swallowed the brewery.

At first he had felt just a little odd, confused, heated up and shaky. The room’s noise had funnily drifted far off and back close and Hermione’s face had shifted out of and into focus several times.

Then a thick, almost blinding bright mist, that seemed to glow from the inside, had enclosed him, had clouded his vision and had befogged his thoughts and reasoning.

He had suddenly felt fear, he remembered, he had been wondering whether the potion had somehow turned out to be toxic and if he was now – dying.

The alertness had only increased when he had not been able to move in any other way but in slow motion while his body had mysteriously moved upwards.

But he had not passed through the ceiling, had not glanced down onto the tables, the heads of his fellow students, the castle, the clouds…

There had not been any tunnel with a bright light on its end either. And not a trace of any kind of past happenings.

Wasn’t that what dying was supposed to be like? Well, maybe people were wrong. Who could tell for sure, really? Maybe he should have paid more attention to the girly-ghost in the loo two floors above the Entrance Hall.

He had not seen anything but whiteness all around. His feet hovering just a few inches above the ground as it felt, he had drifted further into the mist, every noise from the classroom had become very faint, distant and – irrelevant – and from that moment on Severus had truly feared to be doomed.

He had just hoped Hermione would not have taken her dose by then. When Professor Figg and the class would finally realise, hopefully at least Hermione would be save. He was just stunned at how much regret he felt at the idea of never seeing her again.

Even now that the blinding whiteness was gone, the light was still there.

Slowly Severus shook his head to clear his vision. Relieved he noticed that he was able to move at normal speed again. His feet had solid contact to the floor and caused a sound at each step he took. So much for reality to return.

So, if he was not dead after all, where the heck was he?

Blinking against the light, Severus turned around to give his surroundings a closer look. The windows to his left looked familiar in shape and pattern. High lancet arcs they were, reaching from floor to ceiling. Currently their lower wings were opened widely to give the mild air outside access to the room.

A room that was strangely familiar. It was a nice, sunny place – a place he knew – a place that very much resembled the Hogwarts’ library!

For a moment Severus was disappointed despite the fact that he felt a great amount of relief to be definitely – alive.

So he had spoiled the potion. Oh what a shame! Figg would not be pleased at all!

His next thought was where Hermione might have reappeared and another surprisingly strong amount of worry captured him at the idea that she might have been harmed in the process. If the potion had turned out so very wrong, she might just as well be cut off on the rooftop or down the deepest dungeon that had been shut down for years – or decades. This idea left him eager to look for her in spite of their trouble.

He had almost reached the large double-folders-door when he realised that it was probably best if he talked to Madam Pince to apologise for bluntly apperating into her property, first.

Turning around, Severus expected to face the stern, displeased face of the librettist, but the desk was empty – deserted as it seemed. There was no one around – no one at all.

Everything looked just as usual and still – different.

The high bookshelves were packed with hundreds and thousands of different sized volumes, but yet, there was some difference. He could not quite lay a finger on it, but this was not the library he knew.

Or was it?

To prove himself paranoid, he looked for the book he had read the day before. It should be right over there in the second row to the right. He would soon enough know if he was imagining things.

But even while on his way, Severus realised how strange everything was. None of the volumes he saw looked familiar. Not a single one. He neither knew any of their titles, nor had he ever seen the labelling. There were countless notes, concerning dates, names and places on each book.

All of the volumes appeared to be handwritten. They were seemingly original scripts rather than the familiar books he was looking for.

In the place were he supposed ‘Plenty-Powerful-Potions’ to be, he found a middle-sized book with ink-blue covers instead. A date was written across its back – Potions class, January the 10’th of 1978 –

Severus paused, taking in a sharp breath as he recognised Hermione’s handwriting.

Left from this volume there was a small, notebook-sized book labelled – Flashes of January the 9’th in 1978, nothing important – while to the right a flat, yellow book, labelled – Sirius being a prick on January the 11’th in 1978, nothing unusual – caught his interest.

So he was right after all. The potion had worked out perfectly fine.

This was Hermione’s mind, the store of her memories, the very place containing the chapters of her life.

Despite the tension Severus’ lips curled into a smile. He should have known. Of course her mind would be organised like a library. What – ever – else?!

Briefly he wondered what his own mind might look like and which memories Hermione would explore during her stay. With a feeling of uneasiness, he dismissed the thought, as quickly as it had occurred. This was nothing he wanted to dwell on about right now. He could try to figure out how to cope with the embarrassment of his unreturned feelings revealed later.

For now he was determent to gather as much information about what made her tick - so to say. He hoped to understand why she had acted so strangely ever since he had dared to give her a glimpse of his feelings...

His steps echoed hollow through the deserted room with its endless rows of bookshelves. Light floated in through the high, lancet windows. It was a warm, pleasant place. Not unlike the Hogwarts library, it was an almost identical copy even – except for the fact that every single book in here was a handwritten manuscript.

Hermione had written all these chapters of her life – and he would have to literally read her mind now.

One by one, Severus passed the long rows of shelves in wonder, unsure and hesitant of what to do, but finally decided that he had no choice but to open and read the single books to find out.

Still fighting against his issues to do what felt like intruding on her privacy, he suddenly had the impression of hearing someone muttering a spell.

It was – her – he realised with shock and whirled around to face her, but where he had expected her to be was just the door, nothing else…

Nonetheless her voice was all around him.

‘Incendio’, she muttered and it was as real and vivid as if she were there, in the same room with him –and yet – different.

Confused, Severus whirled around once again glancing over his shoulder almost convinced to see her by the entrance door now - but there was no one.

No one at all.

Nonetheless he could hear her voice plain and clear. It was all around him, it was – he gasped – inside his head.

He listened, tensely waiting for the weird sensation to return. It did not. After a few minutes he relaxed enough to focus onto the task at hand once again.

Well then, so she had saved her memories and knowledge in a – mental library – his lips switched. How very – suitable!

Giving the various huge tomes and smaller volumes a curious look, Severus realised that she had obviously made some differences according to the importance and detail of her memories. The single storages did not take an equal amount of space. Their appearance differed in size, in number of pages, colour as well as in material of their covers.

Some volumes looked thread and well-thumped, containing memories of importance to her – which she had obviously looked up and run through several times – while others were covered by a slight film of dust and looked somewhat unaffected as if she had not touched them since the day of their creation.

As the books were in chronological order as it seemed, Severus decided to start from the beginning and pick out whichever titles would catch his eye. It would be the best way to get an impression of her personal ‘character development’.

Following this plan he moved backwards along the timeline and everything went just fine – until he reached the 2’nd of December in 1977 – the day she had arrived at Hogwarts.

Before that date - and he really looked everywhere, including atop and beneath the ledge – there was no, absolutely no further book.

Where her former memories should have been stored were meters and meters of bare, completely empty shelves instead.

Severus bit his lip. Was this the reason for her secretiveness? Did she suffer from a bad kind of memory loss that did not allow her to recall anything but her name? Was it possible that she had been obliviated even?

But why? And by whom? And why was she so afraid to tell anyone? Was she ashamed, he wondered. But what for? It was hardly her fault she could not remember, was it? Why hadn’t she trusted him enough to tell him? Had she been afraid, he might be repelled by her state of ‘defectiveness’?

Suddenly he faltered. Had she seen – or done – anything so horrible that she had been obliviated to forget? An ice-cold fear clenched his heart at that thought. Was she possibly in danger?

She had been sent away from whatever place was her home. Why so, if it would have been so much easier for her to regain her memories in a place she was familiar with?

Or was this the effect of a fortuity? Had she been cut off from the place and the people she knew by accident? It might explain her sadness on Sylvester’s Eve and her desperation on New Year’s morning, when she had told him that she just couldn’t tell him anything about her past. Was it because she did not know it herself?

A wave of sympathy captured him at the thought how lost and afraid she must be. Poor Hermione! She had to be so scared.

But why hadn’t she used her real name, if she remembered it? Was it a piece of memory that had returned during her stay so that she’d had to make up a name in the beginning? But no, Dumbledore knew, she had said and he made her promise not to tell anyone. There must be more to it! Much more.

Maybe she was on the run, hiding from someone… Possibly even from the Dark Lord himself!?

Maybe she had found out about something she should not have known – ever? About the identity of one of The Dark Lord’s followers possibly… and was now… a threat that had to be taken care of?

Uncomfortably aware of the fact that people like his own parents might be ordered to capture her that he himself might have traced her down in a few months of time – if he had not met her – Severus dismissed the thought as quickly as possible. No! He would NOT torture himself with thoughts like that!

His head still squirming in confusion Severus walked round the empty bookshelf and into the next row of ledges. He was not entirely sure what he expected to find over here. A few dislocated fractures of pictures and emotions, maybe – the rough, vague outlines of an erstwhile memory.

Or flashes of the accident that had caused her current state of amnesia. He was prepared for many things – but what he saw did not make any sense at all.

The books in this section were likewise neatly placed in chronological order, only that the dates could not be correct since all of them were dated to a time twenty years ahead!

Was it possible that she was perhaps – a seer, he wondered.

Were all these books about the future prophesies she had made, or visions she’d had of future days?

Whatever this was about, she certainly had more than one problem!

Poor Hermione. There must be more damage to her brain than a ‘plain’ memory loss. Maybe he could find something in those books that she believed to be her past that could help him to understand her and let him figure out how he could help her rearranging her sense of time.

Well, there was only one way to find out. With a very bad feeling and as cautiously as he could manage, Severus picked one of the books, which was labelled –An evening with Miri in August 1986 – at the left end of the shelf out and started to read:

It was a sunny afternoon in late August and the sunbeams’ reddish glow that danced across the garden trees contradicted strongly to the enlarging shadows on the dry grass, when I crawled out of my little ‘cave’ beneath the elderberry bushes, where I’d spend all afternoon, reading ‘Five fall into Adventure’.

Shielding my eyes against the sun, I watched a swarm of gnats dancing in mid air, foreboding another day as bright and sunny as the passing one. I smiled, rubbing my skin where a stirring nettle must have brushed across the bare skin of my knee...

An intense itching sensation drew Severus’ attention away from the lines of crawly, untrained handwriting. Quite unconsciously he started to rub the spot were the stirring-nettle seemed to have brushed against the inner part of his right knee, but froze in mid movement. Last time he’d checked there had hardly been any stirring-nettles at the library, neither magical nor real. Nor had he been crawling around beneath any shrubs, wearing short trousers since he had turned twelve. Cautiously he glanced around, blinking in wonder.

He was no longer inside the vast room filled with books. He wasn’t even at Hogwarts, nor in any place he knew. He was inside the very same garden he had just read about! And like the little girl whose scribbling had led him here he was crawling on hands and knees beneath a group of elderberry bushes.

This was not what he had expected to find when he had prepared himself to explore the memories of ‘Hermione-whose-last-name-wasn’t-Henshler’.

To his utter confusion, ‘she-who-didn’t-want-to-be-named’ did not pay any attention to his sudden appearance in her timeless hideout. She merely crawled back into her little green cave of bushes and picked up that mysterious book about someone falling into adventure, ignoring him thoroughly. She was very young in this memory, a child, but doubtlessly Hermione.

Slowly and carefully avoiding the stirring nettles, Severus withdrew from this very memory.

Once he did return to the library he hurried to pick up a new book to learn more abut Hermione’s time-twisting memories.

The burgundy covered journal he chose brought him to:

All Hallows Eve 1986

As much as I had hoped for it, the weather just wouldn’t improve. Since I’d caught a cold, mum refused to let me go outside if it kept raining on. Therefore I remained sitting in the window-seat of my bedroom all afternoon, pressing my face against the window glass. I didn’t switch the lights on, so I’d have a better view at the darkening street. Within the last half an hour the rain had lessened. But it just wouldn’t stop completely.

Though it wasn’t exactly a downpour, one couldn’t deny it was raining. It really was a pity. The only thing to cheer me up was the prospect of meeting Miriam. I was looking very much forward to spend the evening with her, while Mummy and Dad were at the Phillips’ for dinner. She’d promised she’d prepare a pumpkin lantern with me to be placed at the front steps. And maybe I could persuade her to take me for a short stroll later this evening. If only…

Once again Severus was amazed at how thoroughly he got sucked into the memory. He actually was inside that very room she described.

The comfortably nursery was only lit by the soft orange light of the street lamp below.

It was so dim Severus could merely recognise vague outlines of the furniture.

To his amazement he was seated in the window-seat alongside the little girl, whose memory he shared once again, without her even noticing him.

Like little Hermione, teenage Severus pressed his hands to the window to peer outside into the dark. The nearby street-lamp seemed endangered to drown in the damp and somewhat misty air. Nonetheless Severus could see the opposite house – a dark-green Art Nouveau villa, with a curved iron-fence that opened to a narrow gateway, surrounded by shrubs and trees whose bright red, yellow and orange leaves shone even through the misty dusk. Lime trees were lining the street. Their bare, wet branches and trunks stood out against the hazes of mist. And a bunch of moist yellowish leaves covered the asphalt.

A group of children was hopping about in the street below, laughing and yelling excitedly at one another. Nearly all of them had their faces painted and were dressed in funny cloths.

They were dressed in odd, stiff looking bright yellow, red and orange robes and funny boots that seemed to repel the rain. Just one little girl was dressed properly in what seemed like some foreign kind of wizards robes. Her pointed hat in hands, she was hoping off and about, refusing to take the stiff orange robes her mother was offering her.

Just then, a woman’s voice was calling from downstairs that Miriam had arrived.

With yell of excitement little Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed out of the room to welcome her friend, a pretty, black-haired girl in her late twenties.

Severus felt a stab of envy, when he grew aware of these childhood memories. So she too had been left with some kind of nanny. But how different it was from his own experiences...

Once again Severus returned to the library of memories to search for a new book of Hermione’s stores. And one by one her own handwriting led him into each single memory, but soon blurred in front of his eyes and gave him access to how she remembered the various incidents.

He had part in how she’d felt about odd things happening to her at Primary school. It got him a faint idea of how difficult it must be for a Muggleborn witch to get along with all these unexplainable things happening to her. What a horrid idea not to know about ones own magic and face the nonacceptance and rejection in her fellow students’ and teachers’!

In one memory she sat on one of the chairs in front of the Primary school’s Headmistresses office door and watched the small particles of dust floating in the trace of sunlight that fell through the window at the headwall.

To pass the time Hermione counted the chessboard mosaic on the floor, but he could easily sense her distress. She was very afraid. Once again all the pieces of chalk had been soaking wet or broken when the teacher had picked a classmate in her place, in spite of Hermione’s desperate attempts to do the task, while the only whole and dry piece left had been found in her pocket. And once again she was going to face a detention because of it.

No longer questing the dates of a future past, Severus grabbed more books from the shelves, determined to find out about Hermione as much as possible in the time he was to spend inside her mind. He sensed her great pleasure and relief, when she received her Hogwarts letter in Summer 1991 as it was an explanation for all the weirdness that had been happening to her in her life so far.

He watched her at her Sorting.

‘Hm, a smart one, indeed!’ The old hat’s voice sounded thoughtful. ‘Add studious, my dear – a real gain for the righteous honoured house of Ravenclaw. But there’s also courage and a great deal of stubbornness and the unhealthy but persistent habit of getting yourself in trouble as hard as you might try to avoid it. No, dear, I think it’s best for you to get settled into:’ “GRYFFINDOR!”

Severus flinched at the memory of the Sorting Hat’s voice ringing in his own head. Merlin! His parents might have strangled him had he experienced that little dialogue on his own sorting.

Hermione did not seem to mind its choice in the slightest, though. Beaming brightly she jumped off the stool and hurried to join her new housemates.

She was so happy that Severus could not help but be glad for her, even if she joined the Gryffindor table.

He did not even bother to wonder about the date anymore, so much was he captivated by his explorations of her ‘past’.

A large, well thumped tome with a bright red cover led him to - All Hallows Eve 1991-

I knew I was being stupid. Hiding out in a to-to-toilet like this, crying about something some stupid, crude person like Ron We-we- weeasley had said. I knew I shouldn’t have bo-bothered, but I had put so many hopes in this new schoooool, I thought I had finally resolved the mi-mi-mystery why no one had liked me back at Primary school. And all my glorious theories cr-cru-cumbled into n-n-nothing. It upset me and it stung…

Severus winked, wondering which wood-headed Weasley would wind her up so wholly, she would wrap up in a toilet – worrying and weeping.

The splitting of wood and the chattering of porcelain sinks made Severus snap out of his thoughts. When he turned around, he came to face the most terrifying creature he hd ever seen. A full grown Mountain Troll headed his way, its raw, deathly club that had just shattered the sinks, risen to attack.

Paralysed with fright Severus jumped backwards, out of the monster’s reach, but found there was not much space left to back away. It was even now that he realised that the Troll could not see him since he was exploring a memory and that it was Hermione’s frightened cowering form it was heading for. She had tried to hide beneath the sink in the far corner of the room. Her piercing, terrified scream tore at his heart.

He was at his feet before he even realised it. Up and about to interfere - Mountain Troll be damned; only to find he bloody couldn’t!”

Then – suddenly – there was the image of a boy – James – though she called him ‘Harry’ and a red-head bursting into the room. Both of their faces expressed the same terror Severus felt but in contrast to him they were able to interfere. Brave-heartedly they dashed forward into what Severus supposed to be their certain and unavoidable undoing.

The read-head yelled something to distract the Troll and threw a piece of metal from the demolished sinks in its direction, while his James-ish companion hurried across the room to drag a petrified Hermione out of her hiding place. Even if he had not been unable to interact Severus would have stood rooted to the spot, gawking at the scenery in utter terror.

The two boys fought the beast in a way that left him no other choice but admire their bravery. Together they actually managed to knock their inhuman opponent unconscious. With a deafening sound the massive body crumpled to the floor, were it remained unmoving.

Only then Severus released the breath he had been holding. He had barely time to cast a worried glance in Hermione’s direction when voices and hurried steps approached from the corridor. The sounds of fighting had not remained unnoticed as it seemed.

The very next second McGonagall and – a dark and evil tempered man in his mid-thirties – appeared at the scenery. After a shocked glance at the unconscious beast the two adults started lecturing the boys.

There was some bothersome moment of preferment though that Severus did not dare to dwell on.

Mysteriously Hermione’s next memory led him into:

-The logical riddle, in June 1991-

I still remember the shock, when that purple fire sprang up as soon we’d stepped over the threshold. It blocked our way back, just as the black flickering fire in the opposite doorway stopped us from leaving. Fear welled up inside me as I realised that we were trapped.

I felt the waves of panic radiating from Harry, just as heath was radiating from the fire. Only then I noted a roll of parchment next to the flasks. This must be some kind of – instructions. I picked up the paper and read:

‘Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you will find,

One amongst us seven will let you move ahead

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Three amongst our number hold only nettle wine,

Two of us are killers, waiting hidden in the line,

Choose unless you wish to stay here for evermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side,

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.`

Once she had ended Severus let out the breath he had been holding.

This was worse than he would have expected. Doubtfully he viewed a table with seven bottles in front of them and could not help but frown at their sight.

Whoever had made that riddle up had to be a freaking maniac. How on earth were they supposed to get out of this – ever?

James-Harry seemed to share his worries as his face expressed the very same shock that Severus felt at the prospect to actually choose.

But when he sent a worried glance at Hermione, she did not look bothered at all. On the contrary, she looked – pleased – thrilled even.

“This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle,” she called, sounding impressed. “A lot of the greatest wizards don’t have an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here forever.”

“But so will we, won’t we?” James-Harry asked. His voice sounded far less enthusiastic than Hermione’s and Severus could only agree with him. They were doomed.

”Of course not,” Hermione said.

And within the next couple of minutes Severus watched amazed how she solved the bizzare riddle. He could follow her train of thoughts. It was amazing how she put everything together – figured it out. And at her young age, it was – he was very proud of her.

There while James-Harry and little Hermione were frantically discussing their plans how to handle the current situation. For all it seemed Harry-James wanted her to drink the potion that would allow her to head back through the purple fire and Severus could only agree with that.

Wherever they had come from, it was probably better than this. Hermione was not thrilled at all, but her uncombed friend finally convinced her to get back and get Ron – the red-headed Weasley, Severus concluded – the one she had been crying over on Halloween, who had knocked out the Mountain Troll – and grab brooms from the flying-key room to get past Fluffy – whoever that was – and out of the trapdoor. He advised her to send Hedwig – probably a friend of hers – to Dumbledore. At that Severus smiled, finally a name he knew, but the boy’s very next comment spoiled it all.

“I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him, really.”

His face fell, expressing surprise and utter confusion. Snape??? What the heck was going on?

But it was Hermione’s response that truly shocked him. “But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”

James- no – Harry said something about having been lucky once and stated that he might get off again, but Severus did not really care.

‘Snape’ was supposed to be with You-know-W-V-oldemort and they were about to keep him off. Did that mean that he would really join The Circle and serve the Dark Lord, then? Was this, why she did not want anything to do with him anymore? He frowned. If it were true and she’d had a vision about him joining the Dark Lord it had to be in the future! So why was she at such a young age in it? It did not make any sense at all.

Unable to solve the question Severus dropped the book and jumped forward to grab another one.

Beside himself with confusion, angst and curiosity, he nearly dropped the book once again, though. Nonetheless Hermione’s magic did enclose him over again…

Soon enough he witnessed her brewing Polyjuice Potion in the shut down girls’ bathroom on the second floor and could not hold on himself, when she grudgingly acknowledged that she had turned into a catlike being, with claws and a tail and had all of her face covered in fur.

After all the built up tension this vision of her cheered him up and before he realised it, he had laughed out aloud at the sight of her whiskers and nervously switching tail.

As delightful as this memory might be it did not lead him anywhere near the answer.

Therefore Severus reluctantly replaced the cat-girl book, moving further down the row.

He watched her in class, whispering instructions to Frank – or wasn’t it him – to prevent him from blowing up his cauldron – over again... Well, it must be Frank then, Severus decided with a grin, before he moved on towards the next book – the next memory – to reveal her secrets to him…

He cringed at the realisation that the dark, spiteful man, addressing her as an insufferable know-it-all was indeed him…

When a thirteen years old Hermione stepped out of McGonagall’s office, her cheeks bright with delight at the glorious prospect to finally manage handling two classes at the same time, Severus viewed the tiny hour-glass on the fragile silver chain in her hands suspiciously – but when he was circling round the rooftops of Hogwarts alongside her and Harry on a sentenced Hippogriff to change a likewise doomed Sirius Black’s fate, realisation hit him like - Hogwarts Express…

Before he had any time to recover, though, Severus already witnessed himself, the red and the uncombed talking about Voldemort. The one they called ‘Harry’ was lying in a hospital-bed. Whether he was injured or just badly shocked, Severus could not tell. It did not matter that much as the sight of the man he considered he had once to be or been, rolled up his left sleeve to reveal the ugly, mark marring his forearm.

He caught a few glimpses of Hermione as she looked now, wearing a head girl badge.

Finally, on an early summers morning – he literally bumped into - himself - before every fragment of sight – blood- on the stairs – the time-turner – fractured – blurred into a whirl of colours…

The soft creaking noise of the library’s heavy folders door made Severus look up from Hermione’s memories. Hesitatingly, almost fearfully, he turned around. And gasped…

It was the last thing he’d expected to see, but there she stood, surrounded by soft golden sunlight, smiling at him with –fondness– in her eyes.

“Hermione,” he stammered, moving ahead.

“Severus,” he heard her muttering inside – his – head.

Pinching his eyes shut in confusion, he did not know what was real anymore. This was all so very odd. It felt so real, but yet, how could it be?

No longer bothering with these thoughts, Severus stepped forward, reaching out to her – Hermione - whose whole beautiful face lit with a genuine smile. She crossed the short distance between them and threw both of her arms around him.

He quickly responded, pulling her close, no longer questioning any of these weird things happening to him – but just acceped them as weird and impossible as they might occur.

The next moment they were kissing, which was – heavenly…

Something felt strange, yet. It was only now Severus realised he was experiencing the breathtakingly sweet and heartfelt kiss from her point of view.

But just when he decided that it did not matter at all as long as she just kissed him, he grew aware of some nasty sniggering around them. So much for reality to return...

OO

Slowly Hermione grew aware of the classroom around her. She was seated on the edge of her seat leaning so much forward she had surely been falling hadn’t it been for the person she was leaning into and the pair of arms wrapped around her as tightly as if they were afraid to ever let go.

Despite these new realisations she could still feel the sweetness of the kiss she had been experiencing only a moment before.

She realised that she was 'back in her right mind again' and she also realised that what was causing their class mates to snigger was the fact that she was still kissing – him, ‘whose cheeks flushed pink’.

Eyes wide and oddly bright, he stared at her and unable to get a room Hermione ignored the tumult of voices, laughter and noise around them just staring back at him. Vaguely she grew aware of the bell ringing.

Hogwarts was back.

Hogwarts in its 1970s.

From out of nowhere her hand found itself enwrapped in Severus’: “We need to talk,” he demanded, severely.