Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13980042.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Hermione_Granger, Severus_Snape, Albus_Dumbledore, Minerva_McGonagall,
      Harry_Potter, Draco_Malfoy, Neville_Longbottom, Ron_Weasley, Hestia_Jones
  Additional Tags:
      AU, Eventual_Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-15 Updated: 2018-03-30 Chapters: 4/? Words: 22881
****** Bearing Your Burden ******
by TheTitaniumSerpent
Summary
     When Harry Potter is dying from Nagini's bite at the outskirts of
     Godrick's Hollow and the war seems lost, Hermione Granger decides to
     use a spell to exchange his fate to hers. After the future is blown
     away, Hermione Potter is born to Lily and James Potter: the new
     Chosen One, with the clues to the future sleeping safely inside her
     mind.
Notes
     I own nothing: every character, place and spell belongs to J.K.
     Rowling. I'm just playing with them.
     Oh, hello there. This is my first weak attempt at fanfic. My first
     language is not English and I don't have a beta, so please forgive me
     for any errors and/ or discrepancies.
***** Chapter 1 *****
 
There is a countless amount of universes, all spiralling somewhere out there.
Destinies filled or unfulfilled, heroes standing over fallen foes in triumph;
and sometimes falling themselves, and all they hold precious falling with them,
after one rash and hasty decision.
This was one of those destinies. Once upon a time — not in the beginning of a
story nor in the end of one, but in the middle — were two young adults, dying.
One from a poison consuming him, the other by proxy, being the fallen hero's
best friend.
They knew they had failed and that everything they held dear was now falling
around them. They had been starving, running and hiding. They had seem so many
loved ones die in the past year, and had lost everything.
But this was in the middle of a story, and as stories go, the middle of the
story is an interesting place. There's room there, room for a new decision, a
new chance. When the boy you have learned to love as your brother lays dying by
your feet, rotting alive from the bite of a cursed serpent, there is need for
an act of courage and love. Perhaps, when the young hero blames himself for the
mistakes that occurred and wishes it had never been him in that place, there is
a book with a spell. The spell that would, if cast by two who loved each other
as siblings, not as lovers, change fates and destinies.
Perhaps, when all is lost, there is that one precious piece of love and magic,
chanted by a young woman over her dying brother-in-all-but-blood, willing to
carry his burden, to fill his sad fate.
Then there was a long, dark tunnel of swirling images changing as they were
dragged in, the feeling of falling, the sense of memories fading... and a
blinding white light that drowned everything.
 
*************************************
 
Albus Dumbledore, April 4th 1980
At the Hog's Head Inn, Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts school of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, was conducting an interview on Sybill Trelawney, who
had applied for the position of the new Professor of Divinations. The room was
comfortable, the seats soft and the fire in the hearth combined with Heating
Charms made the room very comfortable, but Albus was already missing his
chambers in the castle. He had also drank all too many cups of tea, and the
lemon drops were out. Trelawney's resume had seemed promising: she had
relations to true and known Seers, and had studied Divinations extensively. Her
gaudy robes were accentuated with dozens of charms, her neck weighted with a
dozen or more pendants and baubles. She seemed nervous and talked a bit
dramatically, clearly trying to impress. Suddenly the woman seemed to seize.
Her breath hitched, her eyes glazed over, and she spoke with a loud, strong
voice that did not resemble her normal voice at all.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those
who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies! And the Dark
Lord..." Trelawney wailed, her voice echoing far and wide. But then suddenly
there were two voices, not one, both citing almost simultaneously:
"...will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows
not!" But the other voice, stronger and louder, boomed:
"...will mark HER as his equal, but SHE will have power the Dark Lord knows
not!"
Trelawney slumped to the floor from her seat, gasping for breath. There was a
commotion just outside the room, and Dumbledore faintly heard a patron being
dragged away to be tossed out by his brother Aberforth, but Trelawney's
Prophecy was clearly not complete. She stood up once more, and continued:
"And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the
other survives! The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born
as the seventh month dies..." Trelawney fainted on the floor, slumping on the
rug. Dumbledore was too stunned to cast a Cushioning Charm, but she slumped
down rather than fell, and didn't seem injured.
As Dumbledore roused the woman with a quick spell, helped her up and signed her
paperwork for the new position, his mind was racing faster than the Hogwarts
Express on a downhill slope. The woman was clearly a true Seer: he would need
to protect her, so hiring her was a logical choice. There would be a child who
could defeat the dark lord, but it would take years before the child would be
old enough to defeat Tom Riddle, the self-appointed magical tyrant. People were
dying: the war was raging on, people targeted and murdered every day. If the
child would be born this year, Voldemort's reign would last years, and
protecting the promised child would be extremely difficult, if not impossible.
The case of the two simultaneous voices was almost as bad. Prophecies were
sometimes very vague, but this was, as far as Dumbledore knew, unheard of. He
would have to research into the matter. There were two young couples waiting
for their firstborn children, Dumbledore remembered: Frank and Alice Longbottom
and James and Lily Potter. Both couples had defied Voldemort several times.
Both babies were due at the end of July that year. But what about the gender of
the child? It couldn't mean that both children were chosen, could it? Or two
Chosen Ones, one of both genders? Both children couldn't be Chosen Ones, could
they?
Dumbledore shook his head, confused beyond measure and irritated as hell, and
departed back to the school. He would have to protect both of those couples and
make plans.
*************************************
 
July 31, 1980
Hermione Lily Potter was born to James and Lily Potter. She was their
firstborn, so loved by her parents. She did not resemble her father much at
all: she had her mother's green eyes but with tiny specks of honey brown and
bronze, the colour of whisky, those probably inherited from her hazel-eyed
father, although the colour was different. Her eyes were very gentle: not
filled with mischief like her father's or joy and laughter, like her mother's.
They had expected her to sport the Potter lineage's black hair or perhaps the
lovely auburn locks of her mother, but her hair was brown, though neither of
their families had ever, as far as they knew, sported that kind of shade of
hair, and it soon became apparent the hair would be very, very curly. When she
was born, there was something strange about her: some great feeling of sadness.
She cried a lot, big tears that wouldn't stop with feeding or even basic
nursery spells, but in two weeks it died down a little. She never laughed a
lot, even as a toddler. There was a feeling of something deeply thoughtful in
her soul, some deep contemplation, but she did occasionally smile just a bit
and when she did, she brought great joy to the hidden house in Godrick's
Hollow.
In another part of the country two Muggles, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, had already
settled to a new routine with their son, Harry John Granger. He had very large
and bucked front teeth and his eyes were a lovely shade of brown, much like his
mother's, but when he was feeling happy and mischievous, there was a green
tinge to them. He was a happy child, doted and loved. His mother read him a
bedtime story every evening. His parents would be very stunned when he would
display his first feats of accidental magic: but that would be years from now.
For now, Harry Granger slept soundly in his crib in a clean room, filled with
toys for him to play with when he'd be big enough to appreciate them.
 
*************************************
 
Minerva McGonagall, November 1st, 1981
 
As the Wizarding World celebrated the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort,
Professor Albus Dumbledore and Professor Minerva McGonagall walked down the
dark Privet Drive with a small bundle that had just been dropped by the half-
giant Hagrid. Professor McGonagall was especially worried: a child with such
magical capacity should not be growing up in a muggle neighbourhood, left in a
basket for her aunt and uncle to raise, but once Albus Dumbledore had set his
mind on something there was nothing to it.
The Halloween-decorated neighbourhood seemed nice enough, for a Muggle
neighbourhood anyway: the houses were tidy and orderly, gardens well-kept and
the streets tidy, although both the Albus and Minerva much more preferred the
colourful and jolly Wizarding areas and the impressive Hogwarts castle they
both had called their home for decades.
With a heavy heart they left the tiny baby girl on the stairs of a Muggle
house, kept warm by a Warming Charm. Orphaned just a few hours ago, the child
had cried itself to sleep on Hagrid's flying bike. Minerva McGonagall, a strict
teacher, held back her tears as she looked at the sleeping toddler with a
lighting bolt-shaped scar marring her forehead, partially obscured by her
short, brown hair. For just a brief moment the baby opened her green, brown-
speckled eyes and gazed deeply at them, before the little orphan drifted back
to sleep.
"This child has a great promise," Professor Dumbledore muttered, partially for
himself, "and I can sense so much love in her. Not just the love of her mother
and father, but the love of another person as well. Strange..." he trailed off,
deep in thought, as they walked away, leaving the slumbering child behind.
"Good luck, Hermione Potter".
*************************************
Severus Snape, August 1st 1991
Professor Severus Snape was sitting in a dark corner of the Headmaster's
office, his expression sour and unfriendly, and scowled angrily when Albus once
again tried to offer him a Sherbert Lemon. He did not want to be here: the name
of Potter brought back too many bad memories, and the child of Lily Evans and
James Potter was a continual reminder of his guilt: the death of his childhood
friend over a decade ago. For all these years Dumbledore had kept reminding him
of his mistake: when he had unwittingly caused the death of James and Lily by
turning the information of the Prophecy over to the Dark Lord. The now 11-year-
old brat would be arriving to the school in just a few short weeks. Snape took
a sip of his Ogden's Old Firewhisky.
"Hagrid delivered the girl her letter and took her shopping on Diagon Alley for
her school supplies," Albus stated. "He had some problems with her foster
parents, the Dursleys: apparently they did not want her to attend Hogwarts. It
seems they are very thoroughly Muggle, and they absolutely detest the idea of
magic. They seem to have treated her as a sort of a servant."
"I cannot imagine the child of James Bloody Potter acting as a servant!"
Severus hissed, setting down his glass on the aged mahogany desk in front of
him. "Her father was an arrogant, egotistical lazy bully and a swine, and his
brat would..."
"The girl is nothing like her father, Severus!" Albus interrupted. "From what
Arabella Figg, Daedalus Diggle and the other observers have told me, the child
is very much like her mother in behaviour, though not so much in appearance.
She is a very intelligent and talented child, Arabella says she is constantly
reading whenever she can, and not just fiction either. Hagrid told me she took
quite a while at Flourish and Blotts. A very kind and obedient child as well,"
Albus chuckled, "Hagrid told me he didn't have to drag her out of the book shop
or give a strict order to leave, but it was obvious that she liked nothing
quite as much. Her grades at Muggle school have been stellar."
"Lily was never one to adore books", Severus muttered, picking up his glass
again for a short sip of Firewhisky. His hands were shaking slightly, even
though he was Occluding heavily. Lily had been a very smart and a talented
student, especially at Charms and Potions, but when she did read, her reading
material was usually Muggle novels, and she had much more preferred chatting
about anything and everything. But it still hurt knowing the child had so much
of Lily inside of her. How much of James would he see in the brat? She would
attend his classes for the next few years if they both survived that long, and
he'd be forced to face his loss daily.
"I think you will like her, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, "She seems to be
not only academically driven but also friendly and kind. Hagrid told me he
found her chatting with young Draco Malfoy — Lucius's son — at Madam Malkin's
robes, and that she was curious but also very obedient and did whatever Hagrid
told her to. I know I am asking much of you, but the child is very important in
our upcoming battle. The Dark Lord... Tom... WILL rise again, and we need to
take care of her, train her and protect her. Severus... she has her mother's
eyes..."
Severus absolutely refused to cry. The guilt has palpable.
*************************************
 
Severus Snape, August 15th 1991
Albus had called a small meeting, including only some of the staff. The old
fool had brought the Philosopher's Stone to Hogwarts. Just in the nick of time,
of course: the Gringott's vault it had been stored in had been breached just
after Hagrid had picked up the Stone. The old poofter was still ahead of the
game, Severus thought.
"I have called you here because I intend to protect the Stone inside the
school," Dumbledore said. "There is no doubt that someone is trying to steal
it. Breaching a Gringott's vault takes immense skill and power, so we are
dealing with someone with power and possibly a great deal of influence. I have
cleared a hallway and some quarters, and I wish to protect the Stone with
obstacles set by each and one of you," Albus said, nodding to Hagrid, Quirinus
Quirrell, Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, Filius Flitwick, Rolanda Hooch and
Severus Snape. "I will speak to each one of you in turn, but I want you to
think of an obstacle or a puzzle you could set up to protect the Stone. We will
set up a labyrinth of sorts to protect it. Do not make them impossible, mind
you: make them difficult but not impossible. If something were to happen to any
one of us, the rest must still be able to reach the Stone if need be."
"Just us," Filius Flitwick asked, "and not all the members of the staff? Surely
Septima and Aurora, for example..."
"No, Filius, for the time being I wish to keep this matter in a very small
circle. It's not that I wouldn't trust the others, of course, but a secret
remains a secret longer if the amount of keepers is smaller."
The others nodded thoughtfully. Snape was already imagining a logical Potion
puzzle. That one would stop almost anyone. Wizards and Witches were prone to
use magic instead of logic.
The other professors left, but Severus remained seated lazily on his chair.
When the footsteps and chatter of the others had died down, he looked at the
Headmaster. "Really, Albus? What's your game? I am not an idiot. A labyrinth?
Sounds quite a bit like an bloody obstacle course, for Merlin's sakes!"
"I will need to test the girl, Severus. We do not know her yet: her strengths,
her weaknesses, her skills. Setting it up will take some time, but I already
know how to truly protect the Stone."
Severus sneered cynically. "She will fail, of that I am sure. She's a bloody
Potter, after all. That's all we need to know."
"I am not sure about that, Severus, but even a failure is a result. We need to
find out what she's capable of before we begin her training. We need to find
out about her character and skills."
Severus snorted cynically, tossing back his drink with a grimace.
*************************************
Severus Snape, September 1st 1991
 
Just another Start-of-Term Feast, Snape told himself again and again, just
another year like all the others. If Albus was right, the Potter girl might be
the future saviour of the Wizarding World, but at this time she was just
another dunderhead to teach. Another thorn on his side. Nothing special at all.
A menace.
He watched through the curtain of his shoulder-length lank hair as the first
years were ushered in, trying to look as he usually did, not to betray any
emotion. One by one the new students were sorted into their houses: Gryffindor,
Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. For a while he wondered if the child would
be sorted into Gryffindor, as both of her parents were... perhaps in Ravenclaw,
if the information was correct about her interest in books? That was probably
too optimistic.
As the amount of students to be sorted grew smaller, he saw her. He stared at
her: yes, those green eyes. He remembered her mother, Lily, when she was her
age, and could remember the Sorting Ceremony. He could remember the
constricting pain when she was declared Gryffindor. Hermione Potter did not
look like her mother or father at all: he probably would not have recognized
her, if it wasn't for the lightening-shaped scar on her forehead and the green
in her eyes. But nothing in her behaviour suggested to James or Lily Potter.
She seemed... shy? A bit withdrawn? Severus frowned.
Her name was called in turn. "Hermione Potter!", Minerva announced, and the
voices in the hall rose for a while, to die down to a complete hush.
Speculation was wild and everyone waited, probably holding their breath. The
hat was silent for a long time, and then called "GRYFFINDOR!". The Gryffindor
table roared with applauds, and most of the teachers clapped as well. Minerva
looked smug. Of course she would. Bloody Gryffindors.
When the last student was Sorted, the Feast began and the food appeared. He
helped himself to a light meal, but mostly ended up pushing it around his plate
as the annoying Defence-instructor Quirrell stuttered and blabbered inanely
about vampires next to him, reeking of garlic. He had to keep an eye on the
Slytherin table, although the Prefects usually did their work properly — he saw
to that himself, personally — but felt his eyes wander to the Gryffindor table
again. He saw nothing of James Potter's looks in her. Her hair was especially
different. It was a bit strange: Potter had sported black hair, Lily's was
auburn, and neither of them had curly hair. And definitely not wildly curly
like that! He almost found the hair funny, such an unruly frizz. But by Merlin
how thin she was! The school robes probably covered the worst of it, but Snape
was an experienced spy and had seen her move when she was sorted: the girl was
malnourished and too small by far, with hollowed-out cheeks and absolutely no
baby fat, unlike her classmates. What on earth was Petunia Dursley thinking?
The girl was sitting next to a black-haired boy with round glasses and bucked
teeth and a red-haired boy, who was most definitely another Weasley. He had
missed their names, but there would be time to learn those later. The boy
looked a bit like James Potter, with the dark hair and the glasses, and with a
bang of irritation and jealousy he wondered if the boy would become Hermione
Potter's "James" in the future. Were the people around her the new Marauders?
Probably. Another thorn on his backside.
He had promised to protect Lily's daughter with his life, if necessary: he had
a debt to pay. Because of him Lily and James were dead and the child orphaned:
but seeing how little she resembled her father made it easier, although he
suspected she probably would have inherited Potter's manners and behaviour. She
was surrounded by Weasleys, which did not bode well: George and Fred Weasley's
pranks were never as hurtful and mean as the Marauders' pranks were, but would
she encourage them? She was talking with the sycophantic Percy Weasley,
apparently quite excited about something. Trust Percy Weasley to suck up to the
Chosen One.
Then he saw that the girl was looking straight at him. Had she sensed his
staring? For just a moment their eyes locked, and Snape narrowed his eyes.
Suddenly the girl flinched and her hand shot to her forehead, as if in pain.
The scar? She must have felt something in that cursed scar. But she had been
looking right at him. It couldn't react to him, could it? Or was it reacting to
something else? Some danger? The girl was in danger, he knew it, but was it
this close?
He averted his eyes and made sure he wouldn't be caught staring, but kept an
eye on her, and decided to do the same in the future. Severus hoped he'd be
able to slip away right after Dumbledore's welcoming speech, just to avoid the
annoying school song. It made his ears ache.
*************************************
Severus Snape, September 2nd 1991
 
Severus swept into his Potions classroom, his robes billowing dramatically
behind him and began his routine introduction to Gryffindor and Slytherin First
Year students. He loved the dramatic effects of his voice — and, of course, the
threats — on the students. He'd memorized the whole speech years ago, so it was
easy to speak while sizing up the classroom full of dunderheads he'd be forced
to teach.
He had already gotten to know the basics about the Slytherin half of the class.
His experience as Slytherin Head of House made it easier to identify potential
troublemakers immediately: when the trouble started it was just so much easier
to know who needed his stern, penetrating gaze and a prompt punishment. Draco
Malfoy was most definitely one. He sat in the front row, close to Hermione
Potter, although on the Slytherin side of the class. Next to Miss Potter sat
Neville Longbottom, another Gryffindor, and behind them Ronald Weasley, who was
turning out to be a ginger menace in the true and tried Weasley way, and the
buck-toothed and messy-haired Harry Granger, who was a Muggle-born. The four
Gryffindors and the Slytherin boy had become thick as thieves in the first
week, and Snape had suspected the school would be cursed with a next set of
Marauders, although with five members instead of the original four.
Snape snapped out of his thoughts as his gaze drew to the five. The students
were listening in rapt attention. Miss Potter was staring right at him, her
green eyes — strange, those light brown speckles in them were definitely not
from Lily — in rapt attention. "Miss Potter, what would I get if I added
powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?", he quizzed. To his
amazement, her answer was immediate... and long! By Merlin, she was practically
regurgitating her textbook back at him, word for word! He had to struggle to
keep his jaw from falling, and he abruptly cut her answer short, rudely and
without any encouragement.
The next question was aimed at the class in general, but the girl sat on the
edge of her seat, hand held as high as she could, almost straining to give an
answer. "Sit down, you insufferable little know-it-all", he snapped, and
regretted it immediately when her green eyes glazed in tears. She did not cry
or whimper and her cheeks remained dry, but she pressed down her head and her
wild hair covered her face from both sides. Draco Malfoy answered the question
correctly and earned five points to Slytherin, but it was obvious that the
entire Gryffindor half of the class was furious: Granger and Weasley almost
growled in outrage. The little chit was not, and it hurt more than he thought
it should have. The students would have to get used to his style of teaching:
obedience meant a lot in a subject as dangerous as his, and he hated
Gryffindors.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Severus Snape, October 31st 1991
Severus ground his teeth in pain as he dragged Quirrell down the flight of
stairs by the scruff of the man's neck. The man stuttered and attempted to
explain himself, but Snape was in no mood to listen to his excuses. The man had
let loose a mountain troll into the castle, for Merlin's sake, though he of
course denied everything. Severus had escorted his Slytherins to their common
room immediately when he heard a troll was about, and then dashed toward the
labyrinth entrance to make sure anyone wouldn't get to the Stone. He had
managed to pull Quirrell out from the room of the three-headed dog just in
time. The blasted dog had gotten a good bite out of his leg while Quirrrell had
escaped unscathed, but the troll was still at large, and Severus roared at
Quirrell to shut up. He dragged the man by the collar as he limped through the
corridors. He would need some essence of Dittany and bandages soon, and it
would still leave another scar. As if he needed more!
The troll's roars and terrible crashes could be heard at quite a distance.
Still dragging Quirrell behind him he encountered Minerva on the way and ran
toward the lavatories. The noise had stopped, but voices of students could be
heard from the girls' lavatory. A decent-sized mountain troll was lying prone
on the floor, apparently knocked out, with Harry Granger's wand up its nose,
apparently knocked out by a spell. Draco Malfoy, Harry Granger, Ronald Weasley,
Neville Longbottom and Hermione Potter were standing there, all obviously
rattled, dirty and in slight shock, but apparently victorious.
Hermione Potter stood up in front of everyone and took the blame for coming to
face the troll of her own accord while stating that the others had come to her
rescue, but she was a lousy liar. Snape narrowed his eyes at her, definitely
not impressed. The girl had obviously been crying for quite a while: her cheeks
were flushed, her hair even wilder than usual, eyes bloodshot and puffed, and
she wouldn't have come to a room with one single exit with a troll unless she
was a complete and utter idiot. Of course, considering that she was a Potter,
that would always be an option.
"How did you manage to knock out a mountain troll?" Minerva quipped at the
students. She was obviously furious. "Quirrell, secure it and take it away.
Dark beasts are your area anyway." Quirrell slunk down and stuttered nervously,
though Severus was convinced he was acting more nervous than he really was.
Minerva glared at Ronald Weasley, obviously waiting for an explanation from
someone.
"Um. Neville threw toilet brushes and paper rolls at it, Harry jumped on its
back and shoved his wand up its nose, I levitated the club with "Wingardium
Leviosa" and then Hermione and Draco blasted it with some hex. Stupi-
something, Professor", Ronald Weasley muttered.
"Stupefy?" Snape clipped, his eyes narrowing. "Stunners are not in the first
year curriculum, let alone so early in the year. It is advanced magic." He
aimed a piercing gaze at Draco, furious that one of his Slytherins had gotten
involved in something like this. "Where did you learn that spell, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Sir, I learned it from my father", the boy replied smugly, although Snape saw
he was partially bluffing: the boy wasn't as confident as he seemed to be.
Snape directed his gaze at Hermione. "And Miss Potter?" he said with a very
cold tone.
"Sir, I must have read it in a book", the girl mumbled, although very
uncertainly. The tone and phrasing were odd, to say the least: there were no
signs of lying, but she would remember if she really read it, wouldn't she?
Minerva did not question the matter any further, of course, favouring her
Gryffindor cubs like the protective lioness she was. She took off points from
the students for ignoring the orders to move to the dormitories, and then
ruined it all by awarding points for knocking out the troll. Snape seethed in
fury: as if the brats needed encouragement in breaking the rules!
"Sir?" The girl's voice sounded after him as he limped away along the corridor,
and he stopped and turned, raising his eyebrow. "Sir, your leg is bleeding,
you're hurt. Do you need help?" Hermione Potter asked. There was no malevolence
or suspicion in her voice: oddly, she sounded concerned. It was strange: no
student had ever worried about his well-being.
"Thank you for your concern: just a minor accident. I am fine. Return to your
dormitory, Miss Potter", he managed to reply as politely as the pain, concern
and weird feeling in his gut allowed him. The girl still looked worried but
obeyed his order, bidding him good night.
Strange. Snape shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Bandages and Dittany.
And he would need to keep a better eye on Quirrell, shake the man up a bit as
well.
 
*************************************
Severus Snape
In the following weeks the bond between the group of five "Second Marauders"
was growing solid. To his surprise Miss Potter, the centre of the new gang of
five, held authority over the boys: so far there had been no bullying or
pranks, unlike the original Marauders had done. She had, in fact, made attempts
to stop the first signs of bullying.
"Draco Malfoy, you will stop that at once!" Hermione Potter's voice had rang
from the Great Hall's rafters and walls. "You have NO RIGHT to call Harry a...
a Mudblood! That is a nasty, mean and hurtful name, and you will not use it!"
The conversation had died down quite a bit: even the staff was straining their
ears to hear her berate the Malfoy heir. After the incident with the troll Mr.
Malfoy had indeed solidified his friendship with Miss Potter's gang of
Gryffindors. His friendship with the Muggle-born Harry Granger was strained,
and he did not seem to get along with Ron Weasley at all, but got along better
with Neville Longbottom and Miss Potter and thus Granger, Weasley and Malfoy
tolerated each other. There were others too, flitting occasionally around the
group of five: she did not seem to exclude anyone, although the four boys
seemed to be closest to her, most likely drawn by her fame, but it was not
unusual for others to join in their group and converse freely.
Malfoy had looked abashed. Snape guessed Draco's father had ordered Draco to
befriend the young Potter heir, possibly hoping to gain influence. It was
possible that Draco was just acting, but outside curfew, when Draco was forced
to return to his dormitory, the group of five was rarely apart. It would be
interesting to see how long that friendship would last. Draco had been raised
to idolise his breeding and wealth, but his friendship with the mixed group
around Hermione Potter was apparently for his own benefit, though his parents
probably were not quite expecting these results.
 
*************************************
 
Inside the mind of Hermione Potter was Hermione Granger: quietly guiding,
guarding, dissolving into her new existence. This new body was almost identical
to her old one except for the eyes and her new purpose, her new destiny. She
was not afraid, the brave young Gryffindor. Hermione Potter was not a scared
little 11-year-old girl: she had lived for eighteen years and then another
eleven. The consciousness was mutual, although no conscious memories of
Hermione Granger came to the surface yet — there would be time for that later,
but as for now, the young girl's body would not yet be able to handle the
consciousness of a young adult. Like an echo of a memory something would
surface from time to time, usually unbidden. Hermione had a purpose and a goal,
and she was driven toward it like a hex seeking a target.
Inside Harry Granger's mind the 17-year old Harry James Potter healed and
slept. He had lived his previous life in pain, humiliation, trials and grief.
The new destiny gave him respite, and his life was finally good. He had allowed
his previous consciousness and memories to dissolve almost completely to enjoy
this new childhood. He was grateful and happy, and he let his old, wounded and
battered memories fade happily. Inside Harry Granger's mind Harry Potter sighed
contently, closed his eyes and... relaxed. This time it wasn't all up to him.
Profound love and gratitude reigned.
 
*************************************
Albus Dumbledore
According to the staff room gossip young Miss Potter was extremely talented:
the Professors who had taught her sang her praise. The entire staff seemed
enamoured with her: she was quite shy, but also kind, immensely intelligent and
studious. She had displayed no traces of arrogance: she was, in fact, extremely
modest. She excelled in her school work, studying hard enough to rival the best
of Ravenclaws. Sprout was thrilled, Filus Flitwick was bursting with
excitement, Minerva was unbelievably smug, and Aurora Sinistra was beyond
elated. Quirrell stated — well, stammered — that the girl really did pay
attention in every class, and even Severus had to admit the chit was a
promising student, making progress way ahead of schedule, though it had taken
Albus several hours and four glasses of Ogden's finest as well as some patient
Legilimency to squirrel that piece of information out of him. Rolanda Hooch was
the only one who was not impressed: the girl was afraid of heights and was
terrible with a broomstick, which had surprised everyone, considering her late
father's proclivity to Quidditch.
Albus Dumbledore smiled and nodded in his thoughts: he had spent the last
decade worrying about the child and how she would turn up. Her living
arrangements had turned up to be less than ideal, but her character had turned
out to be more than perfect. Albus had already drawn several plans, some based
on the child turning out to be as reckless and impulsive as her father, others
on her being as popular but shallow like her mother, but the girl was actually
better than he had ever dared to hope. Albus now felt more than a little
optimistic about the future.
He had delivered Hermione the Cloak of Invisibility left by her father, and
while the girl had used it once to sneak into the library, she was not prone to
mischief and rule-breaking, unlike many of her friends, and she seemed to keep
the worst of their antics in check. Severus had been concerned about the
possibility of students sneaking into the Forbidden Forest, especially since
something or someone was also killing unicorns in the forest and drinking their
blood, but they had been obedient, although Miss Potter had, apparently, used
all of her powers of persuasion, influence and downright nagging to make her
band of mischief-makers behave, at least after the troll incident. Miss Potter
was setting a good example: her name held prestige, and many seemed to copy
her: the First Year students actually seemed to break less rules than any year
before them.
The labyrinth to protect the Stone was finally complete. He and Fawkes had
barely slept while the construction was incomplete, and he had charmed the
Mirror of Erised to be the final protection, depositing the Stone inside it.
Making sure Miss Potter knew where the labyrinth was had been very easy: after
the first announcement about the forbidden third floor corridor at the Sorting
Feast the staircases and the semi-sentient doors and hallways had quite soon
deposited the girl and her friends to the correct door just as he had
instructed them to do, so they now knew where the labyrinth — or what he
privately called "the test" and Severus "the bloody silly obstacle course" —
was. The hints that Hagrid had dropped for her about the three-headed dog had
also caught Hermione Potter's keen attention, and she had relatively quickly
pieced together the name of Nicolas Flamel — although he had to admit that
discovery could be credited to one of her friends and his chocolate frog cards
— and the Philosopher's Stone. She would have found the name anyway,
eventually, of that Albus was certain. This did speed up the discovery, though.
The children actually never knew how few secrets they actually had, with ghosts
and portraits keeping a keen eye on everything when the Professors could not.
They were now certain that Quirinus Quirrell was trying to get the stone, but
Severus was keeping an eye on him. Quirrell, a Ravenclaw, had always been one
to grasp for knowledge, which was probably why he sought out the Stone: he
would most likely wish to find out the secrets of the Stone's making, Albus had
mused. As far as either of them knew, Quirrell had no connections to Death
Eaters, and with Voldemort gone — at least for the time being — there wouldn't
be any new Death Eaters. Those who were left from the first war were in hiding.
Even if Quirrell did manage to get to the Mirror, he would not be able to reach
the Stone, and he was could always be stopped anyway. He'd never get out of the
castle with the Stone.
Then there was poor Severus. His sour demeanour and outward appearance had
managed to convince many in the group of five that Severus was a villain after
the Stone. The dog bite on his leg when he had stopped Quirrell from attempting
to get the Stone had inflamed their suspicions. Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley
were convinced of his villainy, as was Mr. Longbottom, who had learned to fear
Severus: the man was prone to berating his students in terrible ways, Albus had
to admit, although it also resulted in a minimal amount of nasty Potion-induced
accidents in the difficult field of study. With Snape's strict teaching method
the school hadn't had one single Potions lab death while he was teaching the
subject. It would be a pity if the girl would let three of her friends sway her
opinion so strongly, although Mr. Malfoy had defended Severus. Albus sighed.
Still, the situation could have been worse: Miss Potter had not, as far as he
knew, vilified to surly and ugly Potions Master: she was always polite and
respectful to every single one of her teachers.
Although in the future, when Voldemort would inevitably return, Severus might
be able to maintain his cover of master spy better, if there was an open
hostility between him and Miss Potter. Albus sighed. Both options had merit.
*************************************
Albus Dumbledore, May 1st 1992
 
Albus was walking with Severus from the Forbidden Forest toward the castle when
loud screams caught their attention. The First Year students were having a
flying lesson with Madam Hooch, but it was obvious somebody was in trouble.
Hermione Potter's broom was getting out of hand and was dashing toward the
castle's battlements. It was obvious the broom was being cursed: Albus
immediately began muttering a counter-curse, trying to hold the broom steady,
while Severus ran toward the students. The girl was high in the air and
screamed astride her bucking broom: Madam Hooch had already told them she was
obviously afraid of heights, and this was certainly not helping her. She was
hanging on for dear life.
Albus had soon managed to steady the broomstick somewhat with his powerful
counter-curse, but the girl was swaying and the broom was still bouncing and
bucking: her eyes closed and she toppled off her broom, falling limply toward
the ground. Severus managed to catch her before she hit the ground: she was
luckily not high enough to warrant the use of Cushioning Charm, but she could
have still gotten some broken bones had she dropped all the way.
"Severus, take her to the infirmary and have Poppy to make sure she is fine."
Albus ordered. The younger man nodded, holding Miss Potter on his arms. "Madam
Hooch, you might want to check the broomsticks to make sure they are not
cursed." He followed Severus to the infirmary. The girl regained her
consciousness on the way, but she seemed quite content to stay in Severus's
arms. She was shivering in horror.
As Poppy ran her diagnostic charms, Albus pulled Severus aside. "Someone was
definitely cursing that broomstick. It was lucky we got there: the broom would
have hit the wall at high speed, and she could have been injured severely. I
did not want to say this in front of Rolanda, but someone was casting a curse,
it wasn't on the broomstick. This was a deliberate attempt on her health."
"It must have been Quirrell. I did not see him, but I know the little bastard
is..."
"We have no proof, Severus. Until I have it, I cannot fire him, not without
alerting the board of governors, and if he is innocent and our suspicions
unfounded, our careers would be in jeopardy. It might just have been an older
and jealous student, someone from the later years, because the hex was
advanced. For now, we only know he was trying to see the Stone, and he is a
Ravenclaw: studying it would be natural for him, to satisfy his curiosity. Keep
an eye on him, Severus, and bring me any evidence when you have it: then I will
go to the board of governors..."
*************************************
 
Severus Snape, June 4th 1992
 
Dumbledore and Snape were observing the labyrinth through a spelled mirror in
the Headmaster's office. The portraits of the previous Headmasters were all
crowding into three frames directly behind the mirror to observe: they were
bickering, complaining about lack of space and view, shoving and pushing, and
occasionally one of them would fall or be shoved off into the next frame,
complaining bitterly before pushing back in by force. Dilys Derwent had already
made an unsuccessful albeit heartfelt attempt to give Phineas Nigellus Black a
black eye, and Armando Dippet had been publicly condemned as "too fat to fit
into this frame" and was grumbling and sulking.
The "test" for Hermione Potter had begun. Albus had announced he would be going
to London, which had provoked Quirrell to make his move into the labyrinth.
Miss Potter had gotten her group of friends to keep an eye on the entrance: the
clever girl had set spells that would alarm her if someone were to enter the
forbidden corridor, and usually one of her friends was keeping an eye
discreetly through their own Charmed pocket-sized mirror: an amazing feat for a
First Year student, although the image the mirror gave wasn't clear and only
showed a dark figure creeping in. Mr. Longbottom, who had been watching the
mirror at that time, had alerted the others: Miss Potter had given Mr. Granger
the task of finding either Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall or some
other teacher, and she, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley had entered
the labyrinth out of sheer desperation when no help had arrived. Minerva had
escorted the protesting Mr. Granger back to his dormitory, refusing to listen
to his tirade: she had her orders directly from the Headmaster, after all.
Albus was not worried: he had deemed Quirrell as a relatively harmless bloke,
although greedy, and the Mirror of Erised would not allow him the access to the
Stone, since the Stone could only be acquired if the one who wanted to handle
it would not wish to use it for his own gain. Snape was far more concerned: he
had confronted Quirrell several times, and something in the stuttering fool
wracked his nerves. He was certain Quirrell was guilty of both releasing the
Troll on Halloween and cursing Miss Potter's broom later.
The children managed to pass Fluffy, Hagrid's three-headed dog: since Hagrid
had slipped in the clue about Fluffy falling asleep with music, Miss Potter had
taken along her little fiddle, which she was able to play until they all had
managed to jump down into the labyrinth. Their fall was broken by Devil's
Snare: Mr. Longbottom, who had displayed some skill with plants for a First
Year student, had identified it immediately and although he was in panic, he'd
managed to gasp "Devil's Snare hates heat and light", causing both Mr. Malfoy
and Miss Potter to draw their wands and cast fire spells: Miss Potter used
Bluebell Flames while Mr. Malfoy cast a more basic "Incendio", and the plant
had recoiled immediately, dropping the children. Severus smirked: Pomona Sprout
would not be pleased with the treatment her precious plant had already
received. It had been an impressive specimen, after all.
The children now sped forward and reached the key-obstacle set by Filius and
Hooch: it didn't take them long to discover the appropriate key, and Mr. Malfoy
hopped on the broom and caught it with great skill: he definitely had it in him
to become the Seeker for Slytherin Quidditch team next year, Snape thought,
filing the bit of information in his mind for later. As they moved, the
children kept bickering: Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom both claimed that Snape
was the one after the Stone, while Mr. Malfoy claimed it wouldn't be Snape.
This surprised Snape: he had presumed that Lucius Malfoy would have told his
son about Snape's connection to the Death Eaters, but apparently Draco's judge
of character was based on his performance as Head of Slytherin House. Miss
Potter refused to believe it was Snape without further evidence, obviously due
to the fact that Professor Snape had saved her life when she fell off her
broom, but also stated that whoever had entered the labyrinth was not
Headmaster Dumbledore and thus was up to no good.
Minerva's chess board-obstacle was the next obstacle, and Mr. Weasley
demonstrated great strategic skills by sacrificing himself to allow the others
to go forward. Albus was concerned, but the boy seemed to be knocked out, not
permanently injured. Miss Potter left Mr. Longbottom to take care of him and
dashed forward with Mr. Malfoy, already concerned about the delay. The magical
chess board behind them repaired itself swiftly.
Luckily for them the Troll guard was still unconscious, knocked out by the same
man who who had delivered it there, though the children did not know that. The
DADA-instructor had known exactly how to bash the creature unconscious, so the
children passed uneventfully, although very carefully. They now faced Severus's
obstacle: the Potion puzzle. Quirrell had, surprisingly, passed this test: this
made Severus extremely concerned. The man was a Ravenclaw, true, but the man
had seemed like a bumbling idiot prone to use magic instead of his brains. And
these were children. Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter both had an aptitude in
Potions, but this was a test on logic beyond First Year skills.
And then he could do nothing but watch as Hermione Potter solved his puzzle in
mere minutes. His jaw dropped slack while the Headmaster snickered next to him.
Snape glared at him. Mr. Malfoy confirmed her findings by sniffing a couple of
the bottles she deemed safest. There was only enough forward-potion for one
person: Miss Potter took it and told Mr. Malfoy to take the backward-potion and
go help the others and find more teachers: it was obvious the person they were
pursuing was already here. She drank the Potion, Mr. Malfoy drowned the other,
and they were both whisked off.
As Miss Potter faced Quirrell, the two men watched, but when Quirrell revealed
his connection the Voldemort, they very shocked. "A Death Eater? Impossible..."
Albus gasped. Severus tensed, ready to sprint. The silly chit could be in grave
danger, and although there was a shortcut to the heart of the labyrinth and
past the obstacles, it would take a few minutes. But when Voldemort's voice
hissed in the chamber, Snape was running before the first whispering syllables
died away: he recognized the voice immediately, although it was distorted.
Blood and fear pounded in his veins: the saviour of the Wizarding World, Lily's
daughter, was a mere 12-year-old chit and currently standing against a
horrifying monster. He heard Albus running behind him as he cleared staircases
several steps at a time, running as fast as he could, his robes flaring behind
him.
As he arrived to the hidden doorway known to only him and Dumbledore he quickly
cast the spells that would allow him to pass, and rushed through before the
door had even opened fully. If the girl was still alive, he would cast himself
between her and The Dark Lord, if necessary: his duty had been to protect the
girl and he was failing.
He found the girl on the floor, unconscious but alive, Quirrell's badly burnt
corpse still grasped by Miss Potter: his face and hands had horrible blisters
and burns, many on his face and arm in the shape of her hands and fingers.
Whatever had transpired, it was clear that Voldemort had abandoned Quirrell's
vessel as Miss Potter's touch had burned him.
He quickly pulled Quirrell off from her, made sure the man was indeed dead, and
collected the child to his arms. She needed the infirmary and Poppy's care.
Albus arrived behind him, a little short of breath: the old wizard was not in
his prime or in top shape.
"This was too close, Albus, too damn close!", Severus snapped, as they made
their way to the infirmary. "We need to find out what happened in there. What
did she do? And where's the Stone?"
"I will probably use Legilimency when she wakes up to see the rest. Quirrell
did not have it, but she might: we need to check her pockets. It is also
possible she didn't take it, but I will make sure as soon as she's under
Poppy's care. As for the burns on poor Quirinus... I believe she was protected
by her mother's love, her final sacrifice. For now, Tom cannot physically touch
her."
Silence descended as the two men made their way, one carrying his burden, both
carrying the quilt of taking a risk that had been almost too big.
 
*************************************
Albus Dumbledore, June 7th, 1992
 
Albus was standing by Hermione's bedside when she woke up the second time:
Poppy Pomfrey had alerted him that Miss Potter was waking up. Albus explained
to the girl how the love of her late mother had protected her and why the late
professor Quirrell could not touch her skin because of it, and of how professor
Snape had found her and taken her to the infirmary.
"Your friends will soon be here to see you, but before I go, there's something
I would like to ask of you. I would like to use Legilimency on you, if you
would allow it. It involves me taking a peek into your mind, to see what you
remember about Voldemort. I won't do so without your permission but it would be
ever so helpful. It might be a little bit uncomfortable, and I do not wish to
do so without your consent, Miss Potter."
"Of course, sir. What do I need to do? Is there some spell I need to say? Do I
need my wand?" The girl was full of questions, as per usual. Her wild hair was
mussed from sleep and formed a large halo around her head.
"No, dear child," Albus chuckled. "Just lay back, relax and look into my eyes.
I will try to be careful."
The girl relaxed. Albus was taking a risk: the girl was still recovering, but
he needed to see those last moments with Voldemort, and the inaccuracy of the
Prophecy still bothered him. He walked closer, stared into her eyes and cast
the spell wandlessly and non-verbally.
He followed the memories about Voldemort and looked through her eyes into the
chamber. He saw her horror when Quirrell unwrapped the face of Voldemort from
within his turban, and then watched in wonder as the brave young girl ran
toward the Mirror of Erised and blocked Quirrell's path with her body, instead
of attempting to get the Stone.
"The Stone doesn't belong to you and I will not help you get it!", the girl
yelled, defying the Dark Lord even when she was filled with dread. "I have
already sent the others to get the Professors and they will be here any second,
and you will not get the Stone!", she shouted in defiance, and Quirrell,
controlled by Voldemort, lunged at her roaring with murderous rage, only to be
burned by her touch. Albus watched as they struggled in front of the Mirror,
and then saw her memory fade. He had deduced Quirrell's death correctly, but
never realised how bravely the girl had defied Voldemort and defend the Stone,
instead of trying to get it.
Then he followed the path of memories downward. He saw a brief flash of Lily
Potter's death, how she had jumped between her daughter and Voldemort and the
searing pain on Hermione's forehead as Voldemort screamed and toppled to ashes,
though these layers of memories were too deep for the girl to actually
remember. Dumbledore was a highly skilled Legilimens, but he realised it was
nothing short of a miracle that the girl had this layer of memories buried deep
inside her.
But then he realised there was more. A strong cord of memory attached to this
one, something extremely important. He took a mere moment to hesitate, and then
he followed it, and he looked...
There were three haggard, hungry and dirty young adults in a tent, hunting for
pieces of Voldemort's soul. He recognized Ronald Weasley, Harry Granger and
Hermione Potter. He saw Ronald Weasley die at the Ministry of Magic while
snatching a locket from a pink-clad woman, and he saw Harry Granger dying of a
serpent's bite in Godrick's Hollow. He felt Hermione's despair, and heard them:
"I'm so sorry. 'Mione." Harry muttered, gasping in pain. "It's my fault. I
should have listened to you. All those mistakes I made, and I've failed you and
everyone. And Dumbledore's plans have failed. We had too little, too late!"
Hermione looked down on the dying and suffering boy. Harry's skin was now
almost grey, not just an unhealthy pallor, and the horrid black curse
highlighted his veins. They had very little time.
"Oh Harry, don't speak like that. I wish I could take it all away. I wish... I
wish I could take all of your pain, all that you suffered through and..."
Hermione's voice trailed off.
"'Mione, I know you have an idea, you always have. Please..."
"I... I think... It's in one of the books I took from the Order's headquarters.
It's just a theory, but it was supposed to let two people switch fates. I
think... Harry, I think I can fix things. I will take your place."
Switching Fates-Spell, known in legends as "Bearing Your Brother's Burden".
Dumbledore was shocked. The girl — 'Hermione Granger!' his mind screamed
through the connection of Legilimency — had willingly taken another's place,
when all seemed lost. She had willingly given herself to being an orphan and
surrendered her family to her friend. The spell could not be cast without the
two being like siblings, either by blood or by affection, and could not be cast
for selfish reasons. It was a spell of legends.
"No! You can't do that! Not for me. You're like a sister, I can't do anything
without you. You've always made the right decisions. You could still make it."
"No, Harry James Potter, you listen to me," the girl hissed, "I need to do
this. WE need to do this. This is war, and it needs to be won. There's no other
way. We have to win."
He watched as Hermione Granger rummaged in a Charmed beaded bag and finally
cast an Accio for an ancient tome. She leafed through it as fast as she could.
Harry Potter was in so much pain he no longer had the willpower to fight her:
she went through the complicated spell and ritual fast, told him what to say
for his parts, and began casting. Her wand movements were precise, and she did
not stutter or hesitate: she was Gryffindor to the bone, brave Hermione about
to sacrifice her life for the good of the world. Harry was grinding his teeth
as he recited his parts, which were few: he held his wand as they let their
wands touch at the tip.
"...I will bear your burden, my brother..." Hermione chanted.
As Hermione did the final wand movements, both their wands shattered into
splinters, and a large vortex appeared by their side. It looked like a tunnel,
and images were flashing on its sides: past events, past memories, but they
were changing. She clung to her friend desperately, unable to cast a Finite
Incantatem. Harry had fallen unconscious, and Hermione screamed when the
currents pulled them both to the long, winding tunnel, images of past
fluttering by them both as they fell.
Dumbledore staggered back as he was pulled back from her mind. The girl had
fallen unconscious, but she was breathing normally and seemed to be in no pain.
Dumbledore sat down heavily, his mind reeling.
This explained everything. The Chosen One had been a boy, and he had made
mistakes which would contribute to their failure: it was easy to see from Harry
Granger's attitude that he would have reacted to everything very differently
than Hermione did. And Albus realised that his own plans had equally failed: he
either had kept the information from them too long or discovered it too late.
And pieces of Voldemort's soul? That would explain how Voldemort survived, and
they would need to be destroyed before they had any hope of defeating him.
Voldemort had obviously managed to return, though it was equally obvious to
Albus that he would never get the memory of how he did from the girl's mind
without killing her, at least not yet.
He needed help now. He would have to form the Order of the Phoenix again,
sooner than he had expected. But first he would wait until Miss Potter would
wake up and warn her of Voldemort and the danger her life would be in.
 
*************************************
Severus Snape, June 19th 1992
 
There was a knock on the door, and Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. There
was just the Leaving Feast and the awarding of the House Cup left of this term,
and then he'd be rid of the depressing dunderheads for the summer. Slytherin
would win the house cup this year, which had cheered him up him somewhat: the
amount he'd win from the staff's annual wager would definitely help. He would
use the House Cup winnings to buy himself something nice. The year had been
depressing: knowing he had again been classified as the nasty villain hurt
every year, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Knowing that some of the
brats in Miss Potter's little merry troupe of mischief-makers had also called
him a thief was insult upon injury. It was not like he needed the insults to
add to his depressingly lonely life, with a poor, half dilapidated home at
Spinner's End, and poor wages.
Another knock, and Severus huffed in exasperation. A student then: another
teacher would have already entered without his permission: Minerva and Albus
wouldn't have even knocked. "Enter", he clipped loudly. The door creaked ajar,
and Hermione Potter tiptoed in. She was obviously nervous. "Yes, Miss Potter.
Get on with it!" he snapped, annoyed and impatient.
"Professor," she said in a very small voice. She kept her gaze on the stone
floor of the dungeon. "I wanted to apologise. I let Harry and Ron and Neville
say those nasty things about you and listened without defending you even though
you saved my life and did nothing to earn those things. I will not let them say
those things again. And I never really thanked you properly for saving my life.
That's all. I'm sorry, Professor, and thank you."
If Severus hadn't been so strong in Occlumency, his jaw would have gaped open
in astonishment. In all his years of teaching not one student had apologised,
let alone thanked him. He knew he had promised to protect this child out of
obligation for her mother and for the future of the Wizarding World, but he had
never expected to get any gratitude for it. The chit's voice was sincere.
Gratitude from a student was a whole new experience: it was astounding.
"You are welcome, Miss Potter. I was merely doing my duty. But I thank you for
your words", he managed to get out, struggling to keep his voice from
crackling. The little girl smiled: she positively beamed at him. "Have a good
summer, Professor! I look forward to next lessons in the autumn!", she chirped
and bounced away, closing the door behind her.
Severus kept staring at the door for a very long time. Sincere gratitude. It
felt amazingly good. And then he knew he would keep the child safe. He would
train her, educate her and protect her. She had lost her parents, but he would
definitely try to rectify what he could. Not just because of obligation or duty
or for the "Greater Good", but because he wanted to.
 
*************************************
 
Severus Snape, June 20th 1992
The Great Hall was decorated in Slytherin colours, and Snape smirked smugly.
Slytherin was leading by 200 points for the House Cup. Even counting the bonus
wages from being the Slytherin Head of House and the minimal living expenses,
the betting pool money was definitely nice. He could afford a few new tomes for
his collection, and probably some new equipment for his private lab as well.
His smirk froze and then faded when Dumbledore began awarding extra points to
Gryffindor for their effort in solving the labyrith. Ten points to Harry
Granger for his speed in getting a teacher to help his classmates, 50 points to
Ronald Weasley for the game of Wizard's Chess, another 50 points to Longbottom
for rescuing everyone from the Devil's Snare, and finally 100 points to
Hermione Potter for use of logic and courage. The Gryffindors cheered.
Slytherin had lost by mere ten points. Minerva and Albus were smirking. Bloody
fucking Gryffindor bias...
"Excuse me, Headmaster Dumbledore!" someone was shouting. Suddenly everyone
fell silent. Hermione Potter was standing up and waving her hand like she did
in classes. "Sir, you forgot to give Draco Malfoy points as well." The girl was
blushing furiously. "We all got points for what we did, except Draco. He got
the flying key for us and without him, I mean, umm..." The girl's voice trailed
off, the whole school's attention on her. "It isn't fair if Draco doesn't get
points as well", she concluded in a very small voice that could only be heard
because of the absolute and utter silence in the hall. A pin dropping would
probably have sounded like a clatter in that room. Every eye turned from Miss
Potter to Dumbledore as Miss Potter slipped back to her seat. Her House Mates
looked at her, some just stunned, the others glaring at her furiously.
"Right, quite right," Dumbledore stuttered, clearly at a loss, but he could do
nothing to make Gryffindor win now. He'd have to give Mr. Malfoy the points,
and that he did: 50 points to Slytherin for Draco's skill with a broom, and the
House Cup awarded to Slytherin. But the expression on Dumbledore's face was the
ultimate victory for Snape. Hermione Potter had defeated the Headmaster in his
own game without even knowing it. Nothing was quite as sweet at that particular
moment. He would savor this moment for the rest of his existence with the
greatest joy. Perhaps he'd put the memory in a Pensieve to enjoy again at a
later date. Repeatedly.
He watched as his Slytherins cheered Draco, and then as Draco crossed the room
and shook hands with Hermione Potter, both children smiling. Hermione hugged
Draco, and everyone cheered, even some of the Gryffindors: a great gesture of
friendship across houses if there had ever been one.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Albus Dumbledore, July 10th 1992
 
Albus had a very busy summer. He chose members for the new Order of the
Phoenix, first the people who still survived from the first order: Severus,
Emmeline Vance, Rubeus Hagrid, Daedalus Diggle, Sturgis Podmore, Mundungus
Fletcher, Arabella Figg and Elphias Doge, as well as some new ones, like
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hestia Jones, Molly and Arthur Weasley. Remus Lupin,
Minerva and Aberforth, of course. It took a while to find Remus: the poor
werewolf had had a hard time of both unemployment and doing menial jobs for
petty cash to scrape something to eat, all the while haunted by the loss of his
best friends and being ostracised by the Wizarding World whenever someone found
out about his lycanthropy. Albus claimed the Order would pay him for his work
and fished out the money from his own vault: the man deserved better, but he
would be too proud to accept charity, and Albus was not above small lies. For
the first time in years Remus would be able to afford unused robes and proper
food daily.
Albus would also have called in Alastor Moody, but the man had been called
overseas to deal with some dark Wizards in New York: the Auror was improving
the training of American Aurors by huge strides, although without a doubt many
of them would be quite traumatized by the experience. Alastor would be back in
a few years with his new apprentice Nymphadora Tonks, who also might be a
decent recruit, if she was well and truly trained by Alastor. Albus had owled
the man beforehand and got an affirmative reply, but unfortunately Alastor's
contract didn't allow him to return to Britain immediately. Alastor's letter
contained so many swear words that it was surprising it hadn't spontaneously
combusted.
Albus had purchased a magical property for the Order in Remus' name and hidden
it under the Fidelius charm, placing himself as the Secret Keeper. It had
plenty of rooms, enough for some Order members to live and work in. Remus Lupin
became the only steady inhabitant, while the others would probably drift in and
out as work progressed. Remus was very happy with the arrangement: the house
was in good order, although it might become a bit cramped at some point, but it
was clean and free of curses and pests, and he would keep the house clean and
in order: the safe house had no house-elf.
A few weeks after the start of summer holiday Albus went to visit Severus at
Spinner's End, Severus' home. The house was bleary, dusty, dark and filled with
books and brewing equipment. Severus Snape was a recluse: he hated socialising
and opted to brooding alone, brewing and reading when he wasn't at the school.
It was obvious he wasn't eating properly: the man was always thin but he tended
to loose even more weight during summers. Knowing Severus and his habits,
Dumbledore flicked his wand at the brown paper bag he had fished out of his
pocket: the house-elves had prepared a nice meal, which grew in size and spread
itself on the table at Albus' non-verbal spell. The kitchen was small and the
table and the chairs in poor condition, the chairs creaked and the table
wobbled a bit: Albus silently cast a quick Reparo on the table: he didn't fancy
getting their lunch on the floor. He hid the gesture from Severus, knowing that
the proud man would be embarrassed by it if he noticed. As they sat down to
dine, Dumbledore told Severus about the new Order of the Phoenix and invited
him as a member.
"Why, Albus? Why now? The Dark Lord was in Quirrell but the girl banished him.
Why do you need the Order now?" Snape asked.
"I have some information we need to keep between the two of us, at least for
the time being, but yes, we do need the Order now, though this is sooner than I
had anticipated as well. I will first need to ask you this: when you heard the
prophecy and relayed it to Tom, did either of you pay attention to the two
voices in one part of the prophecy?"
"One voice calling the child 'she' and the other as 'he'?” Secverus replied,
picking at his food. “I did. He thought it was because the child hadn't been
born yet so it was unclear if his enemy would be a boy or a girl. I thought it
was strange: the prophecy should have known."
"I have wondered about that for years, Severus, until the end of spring term,
when Hermione Potter was in the infirmary recovering. I used Legilimency on her
to see her memories of the fight she had with Tom, and I was surprised to find
she had other memories as well. Older memories. It was Lily's death, though she
doesn't consciously remember it."
Severus closed his eyes in obvious pain. Dumbledore felt a bang of sympathy.
While Severus was still a young man by Wizarding standards, he had lived his
life in pain, guilt and regret. Albus had to admit he had used it: he felt he
needed Severus as a spy and to protect the child, although he also trusted his
loyalty. "As I said, she doesn't consciously remember it but it's there, under
a deep layer of her mind. But there was more, Severus. Another layer of
memory... from before her birth."
Albus watched as Severus sat up straight and his eyes grew wider, then narrowed
suspiciously. "Have you finally lost your mind, Albus? The earliest memory
might have been traumatic enough to imprint, but what you are suggesting is...
do you need a Healer?"
"I'm not old enough to be senile, Severus. No. There was a clear link. I
followed it deeper into her mind: I took quite a risk, although I admit I
really shouldn't have, but I had no idea before I began. The girl we call
Hermione Potter was once called Hermione Granger, and her classmate Harry
Granger was born Harry Potter: the male Chosen One. But he had made mistakes
and he was dying, and we had lost the war. There is a spell that allows two
siblings to change destinies. It can be cast by either siblings or two people
who are like siblings to one another: apparently Hermione and Harry loved each
other like siblings and thus the spell worked for them, allowing Harry to be
born as Harry Granger, while we now have Hermione Potter."
"So Miss Potter is not actually the Chosen One? Mr. Granger does look a lot
like James Potter. Or are they siblings?" Severus asked after a moment of
silence.
"No, she definitely is the Chosen One, and I just said they were not siblings
in blood, just spirit, which seems to have been enough for the spell to work.
She took up Harry Potter's destiny from the birth. Hence the second voice in
the prophecy; the louder one. They are biologically their parents' offspring,
so Hermione is by blood the daughter of James and Lily Potter, though at least
Hermione doesn't much resemble her parents, and I would say that Harry Granger
indeed is almost the spitting image of James Potter, like you said, except for
the teeth, while Hermione has green eyes like Lily did. But there was something
extremely important inside her mind, Severus: a way we can help her destroy
Tom, possibly before he can come back. I found the reason why he has been able
to linger, why he did not die. And that is the reason I'm bringing back the
Order."
Snape said nothing, clearly waiting. Albus leaned back on his creaking, rickety
chair and steepled his fingers.
"It seems that before he was defeated by Hermione Tom had split his soul into
pieces and hidden the pieces into objects, which he then hid to various places.
I know there are several of them, though I did not catch how many or where they
were. I only caught information on one. They called them 'Horcrux'. They had
already destroyed two, but I didn't catch which ones they were and how they did
it and had a third one in their possession, though I don't know why they had
not destroyed it."
Snape tensed in his chair, his thin lips almost disappearing and his eyes
narrowed. "Horcrux. I know of them. Shite, Albus, that's extremely dark.
Creating one requires a cold-blooded murder, and to split your soul in several
pieces? Merlin..."
"The advantage is that I now know at least something about what we need to
search for. With any luck we might be able to destroy the Horcruxes before he
actually manages to return in full power. He has no body yet: he is dangerous
but not as powerful as he would be if he had a body. This is the main reason I
am re-establishing the Order of the Phoenix. I am going to set up groups to
hunt for the Horcruxes, to study how to handle them safely and to destroy them.
I saw from Miss Potters's memory that the... last time, in the future that she
wiped away by changing fates... I either did not discover the information soon
enough or did not disclose it soon enough, which left three young people alone
searching for the items. I want them found and destroyed before Tom manages to
return, if at all possible."
"If we manage that, the Dark Lord will be destroyed. He won't be able to linger
after we destroy them, I believe.” Severus replied. “You're right, the Order
can hunt them, if you trust all the members. I'll remind you of Sirius Black
though: you thought you could trust him as well and he sold the Potters to the
Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord's followers find out we're looking for them,
they'll hide them even more carefully, and I doubt they'll be easy to find even
without them knowing, so the members will have to be carefully selected.”
There was a pregnant pause as Albus considered Sirius Black: the Headmaster was
clearly feeling guilty about trusting Black, though nobody — not even Severus —
could have anticipated Black turning against his best friend James. Severus
felt his mind wander a while. “Wait, why did you say three teenagers hunting
for them, not five? What about the rest of her little merry little band of
miscreants?"
"Just three. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Mr. Weasley had
gotten killed quite recently, and the two others were mourning him: I do not
know where the rest were. They might have gotten killed earlier or maybe their
friendship had fallen out, though the latter sounds more unlikely, considering
how strong the bond between the five seems to be right now. Another advantage
is that Hermione Potter is a whole different character than Harry Granger... or
Harry Potter would have been. From what I observed, he was — and still is —
prone to hasty conclusions and reckless actions, while Hermione actually
considers her actions and seems much more logically driven. She is also highly
talented and intelligent. The spell she cast to change fates was extremely
complex, especially since she learned it from a book, not from a Master."
Severus shook his head. "I'm not sure I believe all this, Albus. This sounds
completely absurd."
"Why don't you come with me back to the Castle. I'll show you the memory in the
Pensieve. You might spot something I have missed. I'm finished with the food
anyway." Albus flicked his wand, Vanishing the leftovers of their meal.
"Usually I'd tell you to sod off, since I'm on holiday, but I want to see
this", Snape said bluntly, getting up. "I'll Summon my travelling cloak."
*************************************
Snape straightened his back from the Pensieve with a haunted expression on his
face. "I still have hard time believing this, Albus."
"I have watched this memory several times now. It's amazing but I have no doubt
it's also true. Would you like a spot of tea to calm the nerves? I myself
needed several cups and a sip of Calming Draught the first time."
Severus nodded absentmindedly. "How is the whole thing even possible? I've
never heard of a spell like that."
Albus called his house-elf for tea: the elf disappeared with a curt nod and a
crack. "Yes, the spell exists: I've never read the actual spell myself, but
it's referenced in two of the more obscure books of familial magic. It's not
something to be taken lightly: the intent must be pure and without a selfish
strain, determination without a doubt, and the wand movements and incantations
flawless: and as you saw, it's a complex spell to cast, accompanied by the
ritual. I sincerely doubt that any other Witch or a Wizard with less than 50
years of experience could have cast a spell that complex as flawlessly as she
did. She also must have known that she would be condemning herself to loose her
parents and some of her essence, and quite possibly her life."
Severus sat down heavily. His head was buzzing. The situation was unnerving and
precarious as it was, but this was a complication, and Severus Snape hated
complications.
"They looked to be in their late teens, wouldn't you say?" Albus asked.
"I concur. Between sixteen and eighteen, I should say. So we have a few years
until the situation escalates to a full-out war. It's not ideal, but at least
it gives us time to prepare."
"Normally I would agree, but that future may never come to pass now. We will
not know how much she will change the future as Hermione Potter: her reactions
are, after all, very different than Harry Granger's reactions would have been.
We don't even know how much she has already changed the future, the moment we
now live in. I believe it's an advantage for us though, Severus, more than just
giving us the information about the Horcruxes. And as I said: if we manage to
destroy the Horcruxes before Tom returns, there will be no war. Perhaps the
Prophecy merely meant that she'll destroy the last Horcrux."
Albus sipped his tea in silence and popped a Sherbert Lemon into his mouth.
Snape did not bother to urge the Headmaster to go on, and the two men sat in
contemplative silence for a while. They'd known each other for years, and the
silences were not uncomfortable between them. An owl delivered some mail to his
office, but Albus gave it a mere cursory glance to see that it was a missive
from the Board of Governors, and filed it for later.
"Severus, how good is she in brewing?" he finally asked.
For a brief moment Severus looked confused. "Well, she is surprisingly
talented. She's annoying and desperate to prove herself, but she follows the
instructions perfectly. She regurgitates textbook answers back and her essays
are ridiculously long, but in practical brewing she did not make a single
mistake last year. Why?" Severus would never admit such a thing to a student of
his if the said student wasn't a Slytherin, but he was honest with the
Headmaster.
"Because Minerva and Filius told me she learns every single Charm and
Transfiguration from just one example. They only need to show her the spell or
give written advice. She did not need practice, not once, she did not make a
single botched attempt at any Charm or Transfiguration during the year. Not
one. Sometimes she began the movements or recited the incantation before they
had the chance to tell her. It seems to me like her education — from her
earlier life, you see — is somewhere inside her mind. It's not conscious, I
think, but the information comes up from her memory. Minerva and Filius had
already given her several Second Year assignments just to make sure she isn't
too bored. She enjoys research and works admirably hard, and that combined with
the skills she has inside her deepest layers just waiting to pop up... Severus,
when Hermione Granger chose to switch her destiny to that of Hermione Potter,
she was somewhere between the ages of 16 to 18. While she is now physically 11
years old, in the deepest level of her mind she has the capabilities and
understanding of a young adult. We are not dealing with a regular child here,
Severus. And that is a huge advantage and a great risk."
"I fail to see a risk. Educating her will be easy, and we might be able to push
her forward, ahead of everyone else, with very little effort. Unless she
exhausts her magical capabilities with spells and hexes she's not mature enough
to handle yet, of course?"
Albus nodded. "That, and it's also a matter of human mind and her capability to
stand the strain. If she were to remember her previous life, I believe she
would experience all that trauma in a very short time. She would also have
double memories from much of her two lives, and the trauma that girl would have
suffered through her life would without a doubt overwhelm her mind, possibly
destroying it for good. We cannot afford to loose her, Severus. We know of her
sacrifice and we know her secret: it must be buried within us, at least for
now. If you guard anything with Occlumency, guard this secret: she is the
single most valuable person on this country, and we cannot risk loosing her
mind." Albus sighed.
"Are you going to try Legilimency again? And the Order needs to know, I think."
"I'm afraid of using Legilimency on her again, so the answer would be no. I
would not have done so had I known of her... previous life. This will be
difficult, Severus. We have a young adult in the body of a child. She may not
be conscious yet, but what if she becomes aware? The shock itself might kill
her. And the changes between her mental and physical capabilities? No, I'd
prefer she's older before I try Legilimency again. We already know a lot. And
while I'm going to tell the Order about the Horcruxes, we are going to keep the
information about Hermione Granger and Harry Potter to ourselves, at least for
now. One of them might let something slip, and the results could be
catastrophic."
"True, I concur. While I would trust some of them, it doesn't take a strong
Legilimens to barrel past their defences, and the Dark Lord has faithful
followers, even now. And some of the Order members can't really help control
their tongues: one of them might let something slip in front of Miss Potter.
Perhaps later, but right now, I agree: she's at risk."
Albus nodded. "I'm going to schedule a meeting for the Order soon: I'll Floo
you with the date. Here's the paper with the location of the new safe house:
I'm the Secret Keeper, and you know what to do. The others know where it is,
I'll have to Side-along you there the first time. Now, would you care for a
Sherbert Lemon? We might as well go through your syllabus and budget, if you're
done with those..."
*************************************
Arabella Figg, August 3rd 1992
Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore Apparated to Privet Drive and Disillusioned.
They walked to Arabella Figg's house and knocked. When she opened, they greeted
her, walked in and shed the Disillusionment Charms in her foyer. Several of
Mrs. Figg's half-Kneazles lay in various poses of relaxation all around the
house, and one wove itself through their feet, attempting to trip Snape. The
house was carefully constructed to look like the home of a typical elderly
spinster: lace and floral patterns, lots of pictures of people who were
supposed to be her relatives but really were not. Nothing magical visible,
every piece of magic hidden carefully under layers of Wards, all done by
Professor Dumbledore and adjusted to work and show only for Arabella Figg
herself.
Arabella Figg was one of the people tasked with keeping an eye on Hermione
Potter: her closest guard during her holiday time, as it were. She was a Squib
and a very talented spy despite her advanced age, taking the advantage of her
half-Kneazles and her status as an apparently innocent, halfway barmy widower
with a fetish for cats. She was very clever and hid it extremely well. Right
now Mrs. Figg was nervous. For 11 years she had sent her reports on the Potter
girl but had never called for a meeting with Professor Dumbledore, not once:
Dumbledore called for you, not the other way around. The little old woman was
actually twirling her fingers and hands: she was too agitated to contain these
reaction, and right now she had no reason to.
"Professor Dumbledore, the girl is in obvious trouble at her home", she finally
started, after serving the men tea (which Snape tasted and then refused to
touch again), and cookies (Albus munched on them happily, while Severus
declined to even touch them). "She has always been thin, but she came back this
spring looking much better and healthier. Not fat, mind you, but not as starved
as she had been. When I saw her a couple of weeks later, she had lost it all
and then some. Headmaster, that girl is starving! Her cousin is like a little
whale, but that girl is drowning in her clothes. She's hitting her puberty, and
she will be in trouble soon: I think she will always be a small and tiny little
thing, but such starvation on a growing girl might have disastrous consequences
in later life. And I don't know what happened there, but right now there are
iron bars in her windows. One of my pets climbed up and said the girl is
incarcerated in her room: the door is bolted, and she's allowed outside once a
day to bathe. Professor, that poor girl is in serious trouble!"
"Dear Mrs. Figg, she might have broken a few house rules..." Dumbledore tried,
although without much determination. Neither of them had prepared for something
like this.
"The bars were installed just a few days ago, but Professor, she's just turned
12! Bars on her windows are ridiculous, no matter what she might have done. And
there's more. That disgusting cousin of hers, Dudley, has some nasty friends. I
overheard them just last week: one of them was suggesting they'd strip
Hermione, that they'd take off her pants. They were suggesting humiliating her:
it's only going to get worse. Keeping her here will risk her getting assaulted,
Headmaster. This is going too far!" Arabella Figg, usually a quiet woman, was
radiating indignation. "She has to be removed from that house! It is too
dangerous."
Dumbledore sighed. "I was hoping it would not come to this, but perhaps it is
for the best we remove her from the Dursley home. Her blood relatives would
have protected her, but I was hoping they would grow to love her and care for
her. It seems I was wrong: Petunia Dursley is so different from her sister. And
I must admit this gives us the advantage of furthering her training during the
summers and keeping a better eye on her, though we will have to protect her at
all times. Very well. I will take her as my personal ward and move her, at
least for now, to the Order safe house. Come, Severus. I think it's best we
take her now, before anything worse happens."
Arabella sighed in relief. She had grown to adore the girl, but her living
conditions were becoming intolerable, and the thought of the girl getting
assaulted, perhaps even raped by her cousin's insipid friends was frightening.
The Dursley house was no place for a young girl. Arabella knew she'd see the
girl in the Order's safe house. She'd be safer there.
*************************************
Severus Snape, August 3rd 1992
The sight of the poor little chit had Severus almost in tears. Petunia Dursley
had opened the door and gasped out of sheer shock and outrage at the sight of
the two robed Wizards — and at the sight of Severus, especially. "YOU!" she had
cried. "You are that horrible little boy! Get out of my house, you freak!" she
had gasped and attempted to slam the door at their faces. But nobody slammed
the door in the face of Albus Dumbledore, least of all a Muggle mistreating one
of his prized pupils. Certain words had been exchanged, and Mrs. Dursley, now
relieved she'd be soon rid of her young and unwanted relative, led the men to
the bolted and barred bedroom door on the second floor. The sight of that poor
child was shocking.
The room was well organized and very tidy, although nothing there was new and
unused. The furniture was worn and scarce: a partially broken bed with
threadbare sheets and blankets, a desk and a rickety single chair with no
padding. In a house that was furnished with good and proper middle-class
furniture the differences between her bedroom and the other rooms was glaringly
obvious. Her snowy owl was perched on the back of the chair, the little
carrying cage in the corner of the room, and it looked bored: it probably
hadn't had the chance to fly for weeks. The room had only two books aside the
school books, although at school she was a voracious reader: the books had been
torn on purpose, and then carefully repaired using tape. She had an old plush
cat with one eye, but no other toys. The girl was from one of the wealthiest
Wizarding families in Britain and Severus knew that the Dursley family was paid
monthly for her upbringing: yet she seemed to live in poverty inside a middle-
class house.
The child was wearing a worn jumper and a pair of hugely oversized trousers
that looked faded and had a hole somewhere in the middle of her leg. They were
obviously meant for a child several sizes larger. The trousers were secured
with a very worn belt, and she looked like a mouse in the skin of an elephant.
Her cheeks were drawn in, and her whole body thin: it was obvious the child had
not been properly fed. Severus felt horrible. He remembered his own childhood
all too clearly, even though this house was in a nice neighbourhood, it was
clean and the foster parents clearly would have had enough money to care for
her properly, unlike his own parents. Somehow that made things even worse.
The look on Albus' face was thunderous. He turned to Petunia Dursley and cast
Legilimency without a wand. After a short silence he pulled back. "Feeding the
child table scraps? Making her live in a closet for eleven years? Beatings and
punishments? ENOUGH!" Albus bellowed, and Petunia cowered before him. "I am
taking this child from you right now. It is obvious you care not a Knut for
her. You will sign the documents that I will send by owl today. I am adopting
her and taking her as my personal ward, and if she chooses to ever see you
again, it will be her own choice." Albus turned to the girl. The child was
looking directly at him, disbelief clear in her eyes, and Albus spoke softly at
her. "We will pack all of your things, Miss Potter, and you will come live with
us. We will take you to a better home, dear child."
The girl's eyes were brimming with tears. Dumbledore looked quite touched as he
petted her wild hair and comforted her, though he girl had initially flinched
from touch, obviously unaccustomed to anyone touching her without meaning to
harm or discipline her. "There there, dear girl. No need for tears. We will
help you pack all of your belongings. Then we'll take you to your new home for
the rest of the summer, and see what a fun holiday we can make for you, shall
we?" The girl nodded, her eyes still swimming with tears, and Albus offered her
a handkerchief. "Thank you, Sir! Thank you!" The girl also turned to Severus
and thanked him, much to his own astonishment.
The girl was soon done packing. She had her school trunk and her owl, but
outside her school supplies and her uniform her personal belongings consisted
of one pair of jeans (still sopping wet from laundry, but Albus dried them with
a quick Charm), two jumpers, one coat, three pieces of beige panties, one pair
of trainers, the plush cat and the two books. All the rest of her clothes
belonged to her cousin: they were too big, frayed and worn. They knew that
there was more than enough of money in the Potter vault at Gringott's to buy a
manor, but the girl was obviously not used to having anything and she quite
probably didn't know how to use money on herself, not had she had the chance to
do so.
After the girl had packed everything into her school trunk, Albus shrunk it and
placed it into his coat pocket. Severus picked up the owl cage with the owl now
securely inside it, and the three of them left without so much as a word to
Mrs. Dursley. Albus was obviously furious. "We will take Miss Potter to the
Order safe house first. I think Emmeline or Minerva should take her shopping
for some new clothes first, she needs more than she has. I will pay for her
shopping until she has time to get some money from Gringott's, but we'll leave
that for later. I will send the adoption documents to be signed, although
perhaps it will be more prudent to send a Wizarding lawyer to deliver them and
to make sure everything goes smoothly. Hmm, the Dursleys have received a
generous monthly allowance for her care. I wonder when they'll realise they
loose the monthly cheque." Albus gave a small chuckle, though he was obviously
still quite furious.
*************************************
Minerva McGonagall, August 7th 1992
Minerva sat around the table at the meeting of the newly established Order of
the Phoenix. All the members were present except for Alastor Moody, who was
currently somewhere in New York, and Hestia Jones, who had taken the shift to
watch over Miss Potter. Hestia would take her for a walk: she had express
instructions to not let go of Hermione's hand and to Disapparate to a safe
location at the smallest sign of trouble. Hermione also had a Port Key with her
for emergencies. They'd be keeping to a populated Muggle area anyway, but Albus
was being careful with his young charge.
Minerva greeted her fellow Order members. She knew them all beforehand, of
course: she hadn't met many of them in several years, while others were
colleagues. She had been surprised by Albus' decision to bring back the Order:
Voldemort had been gone for over a decade.
Minerva was pleased that young Hermione had been taken away from her relatives.
Albus had summarised quickly the conditions she had been living in: even
Severus had disapproved of them, and the girl was terribly thin. Her wardrobe
had consisted of the few Muggle clothes and her school uniform and robes:
Minerva had transfigured her some new clothes for now, starting with
comfortable home attires, pyjamas and bathrobes as well as new slippers and
shoes: it was faster and easier than taking her shopping. The girl would also
need fattening up.
Albus had called the meeting to order. Albus summarised the events of
Voldemort's attempt at the Sorcerer's Stone from the spring to those who had
only heard rumours, and how he had thwarted by Hermione and banished from
Quirrell's body.
"The reason I have called to Order back," Albus continued, "is that we have
received new information from a very reliable source. We now know why Tom did
not die when the first war ended. While we know Quirrell was killing unicorns
and drinking their blood, Tom only used that trick when he was inside Quirrel's
body. But before he was defeated by Hermione Potter over a decade ago, he had
managed to create several dark objects called 'Horcrux'."
The Order members looked at each other uncertainly: Only Severus seemed to know
what Albus was talking about and did not seem surprised. Severus never really
showed any emotions, but Minerva thought it was quite likely that he was the
source of this new information: as a spy he had his contacts among the Death
Eaters, after all.
"Horcruxes are terrible objects that are created by... well, I won't go there.
Tom Riddle split his soul into several pieces and hid the pieces inside these
objects, which he has apparently hidden. We do not know how many there are: we
know very few things, I'll give the details later. As long as one single of
these items remains, Tom cannot truly be killed. We need to figure out how many
of them there are, where they are and how to destroy them. To achieve this I'm
going to split the Order into several smaller groups according to your personal
talents and positions, and the groups will work on tasks that I assign. I
normally would not give out this information, but I believe time is of the
essence: if we destroy these objects before Tom manages to return in full force
he'll never be able to come back. If we do not... I fear we will be facing
another war, possibly worse than the previous one.”
“I will do my part, Albus, as much as I can, though my duties as Deputy will
take quite a lot of energy.” Minerva said. “Might I suggest I research the
subject in the Restricted Section at Hogwarts? I have full access and if I do
the research, it'll be a lot less conspicuous than someone outside the school
spending time in the library? You-know-who may not have a body now, but I
suspect he has the eyes and ears of his followers everywhere.” Minerva could
not make herself say Voldemort's name out loud, though Albus often said that
the fear of a name only increased the fear of the thing itself.
“Yes, Minerva, I would have suggested that myself.” Albus smiled. “I suggest
you and Severus research the library, and I will search the Headmaster's
private library in my office. I, however, suggest you deliver all promising
books to a group lead by Remus: his group's main focus would be on how to
destroy these objects: they are most likely protected by various strong Curses
and will not be easy to destroy safely. The second group, lead by Molly, will
talk to the people who knew Tom Riddle before the war. Molly, you have a great
skill in making people talk. Use it: I will give you some pointers to people
you can start with, but you know your business. Through those people you might
gain insight on what these objects might be and where they might be hidden.
Arthur and Kingsley, you have access to the Ministry of Magic: I want you to be
very careful, but see if there's anything in the Ministry archives. Severus,
you have your old contacts among the Death Eaters: do not compromise your
position but keep an eye out.”
“Later, when we begin to find the objects, I will reorganize the groups to find
and destroy the objects, but for now, we'll go with these.”
“What about the Horcrux you know, Albus?” Sturgis Podmore asked.
“It's a locket. I believe I recognized the design: it would have belonged to
Salazar Slytherin,” Albus replied, forming the picture of a locket into the air
above the table with a flick of his wand. “Its current whereabouts are unknown.
I want everyone to keep an eye out on this item: Mundungus, I know you're
involved in handling various items of value,” Albus smirked and his eyes
twinkled, while Mundungus squirmed a bit on his chair, “and I want you to make
inquiries on it. On second thought, the other objects, or at least some of
them, might be Slytherin relics as well: Remus, I want someone in your group to
research on them.”
“And remember: these are very Dark objects, so be extremely careful if and when
handling them. Best not to touch them by hand. We might also research on how to
handle and transport them safely to be destroyed.”
Minerva looked around at her fellow Order members and felt a sense of
belonging. Their jaws were set in determination: Albus had them all swear a
Wand Oath to protect what they had learned today from anyone outside the Order
of the Phoenix: not one of them refused.
Minerva felt dread and anxiety mixed with optimism. She remembered the last war
all too well: now the next war was hanging over their heads like an axe, and
young and innocent Hermione Potter was standing smack in the middle of it. She
was too young, too sweet: she'd become her favourite student, with her thirst
for knowledge and the almost inhumane speed of learning. Minerva had brought
new assignments of Hermione: if she kept up this speed, she might have
completed assignments for the Third Year and perhaps some of her Fourth by the
end of the Second Year at Hogwarts.
Yes, the war was looming ahead, but they had Albus Dumbledore and they had
Hermione Potter: with two such wonderful talents they were unlikely to loose
the war. But Minerva looked at her fellow Order members, and she felt a twinge
of sadness, fear for their lives: how many would they loose this time? Would
she, herself, die?
Minerva McGonagall sighed as she picked up her wand, stood up and recited her
Wand Oath: “I, Minerva McGonagall, swear my allegiance...”
*************************************
Life in the Order safe house had soon settled to a new routine. Miss Potter
became a great favourite in the house. She was given a nice room of her own,
and Minerva Transfigured her some nice furniture. Emmeline Vance took her
shopping, and the two returned with a load of bags and packages, which
contained plenty of new clothes, linen for her room, a lot of new books and
quite a load of sweets, chocolates and cakes, which Miss Potter shared
generously with everyone. She was far from greedy and selfish and clearly
wanted to please everyone. Gratitude was obvious in her every gesture.
The Dursleys had indeed been been punishing her: for some reason a house-elf
had tried to prevent her from going to school. It had wrought quite a havoc in
her home, slamming a plate of dessert into the head to a party guest, though
nobody knew why an elf — he had called himself 'Dobby' — would do such a thing.
It was extremely peculiar and unnerving. The Dursleys had refused to believe
she did not do the magic herself, and she did have a few bruises from being
shaken about. The incarceration was part of her punishment.
In the first week she was a bit guarded, obviously afraid that she might be
sent back to the Dursley family, but as time went by, she became happier. She
already knew how to cook, and she enjoyed making food for the Order members:
the Dursleys had had her cooking since she was very young, and had always
berated her for every small mistake, so she was actually quite skilled. She
kept her room spotless without prompting and went for long walks with Remus
Lupin on his 'safe days', though never close to full moon. Diggle would show
her his miniature fireworks, and Vance took her to the beach for a swim several
times when the weather permitted. They made sure she had plenty of books to
read, and they celebrated her 12th birthday belatedly, after it turned out she
had gotten nothing for her birthday: there was a veritable feast and a large
cake made by Molly Weasley to top it all, and members were all invited. Vance
and Minerva took her to the British Museum as a present: some amused
expressions were seen when she turned out to prefer a museum tour to a day in
an amusement park, which had also been presented as an option.
The two women also took her to shop for school supplies at Diagon Alley,
setting the day with other families to that she could spend the shopping day
with her friends Harry Granger, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Draco
Malfoy. Ron's younger sister Ginevra Weasley would also be attending the school
this year, and Hermione seemed to instantly like her. Draco's father had been
quite obnoxious toward the Weasley family, though he had made attempts to
flatter Hermione, much to his son's obvious embarrassment. Hermione had been
polite, although obviously not very impressed, and then less than amused when
Lucius Malfoy had insulted the poverty of the Weasley family and looked at the
Muggle-born Harry Granger with obvious disdain. Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy
were definitely not the best of friends, but they had gotten along decently
enough during the first year: their experiences with the Troll and the
labyrinth had created a tentative bond, though the two still quarrelled from
time to time. The Weasleys and the Malfoys had a family feud decades back, so a
tentative truce of 'getting along' was better than a full-out brawl.
At Diagon Alley they had also met the future Defence-instructor Gilderoy
Lockhart, who had tried to flatter Hermione: unlike most other females she
hadn't been impressed. She had read some of his books, but as she later
remarked — very maturely in Severus' opinion — the man acted like a pompous
prat and boasted too much. Albus had defended the man in a good-natured way,
remarking that Lockhart's experience would make him a good instructor and bring
prestige to the school, but though she did not comment further, Hermione had
seemed sceptical.
Molly and Arthur Weasley had adored her and invited her to stay at the Burrows
for a couple of days, but the girl was obviously delighted to return to the
Order's house: the bustle of the Burrows was obviously too much for her, and
she gladly returned to her studies and the quiet evenings of tea and reading.
She seemed to prefer the company of her elders, shyly commenting on the
childish antics of her peers when asked. Minerva was giving her reading
assignments and private tutorials at Transfigurations, Filius did the same at
Charms, and she was progressing well. Remus taught her about all manner of dark
and dangerous creatures and how to encounter them, and the three were obviously
very impressed with her capacity for learning and her willingness to spend hour
upon hour engrossed in books and testing spells. Severus had taken upon himself
to teach her spells and protections from Defence Against the Dark Arts and was
enjoying it: he had applied to the Defence position for years, and now he was
able to teach the subject and brew Potions as well. The girl was a quick study.
The girl would share tea, scones and cakes with any one of them, with Severus
Snape as well, which surprised most of the Order members. She soon learned to
tolerate his occasionally moody behaviour, and for the first time in his life
he actually enjoyed teaching a student. The other members of the Order were
astonished when they first found the sour Potions Master sharing tea, chocolate
cake and scones with a pupil, or both of them contently reading books in the
little library in companionable silence.
As the summer progressed and the next term came closer, it became apparent that
while she might be a bit bossy, she also had an almost insatiable thirst for
learning; she was generous, kind, gentle and loyal. If Severus hadn't known
about Hermione's past life as Hermione Granger, he would have wondered where
the personality traits came from: while she was emotional, she was not reckless
like James Potter, and while Lily had been kind, she was never as loyal and
forgiving as Hermione was. Whatever the biological traits and bonds from the
Potters were, they apparently did not affect her personality. Harry Granger,
meanwhile, seemed to contain James Potter's arrogance, rashness and ability to
get himself into trouble. Severus shuddered at the thought of having a child
like Harry Granger as "The Chosen One".
*************************************
Severus Snape, August 25th 1992
Severus had been dropping some new books to the Order's safe house for Remus'
group. The next term would soon commence: he'd been quite busy between ordering
new supplies for Potions classes, brewing a stock of Pepper-up, Skele-Gro,
Blood-Replenishing Potion and Bruise Salve for the school's infirmary and
researching for books for the Order. The shipment of Potion supplies would
arrive tomorrow: then there would be three, perhaps four days worth arranging
the supplies and shelving them.
Severus had just passed the library door on his way to the kitchens when he
heard Lupin mention the names of Lily and James Potter. He froze to listen: the
library door was ajar but the people inside made no indication they'd heard
him: Severus always walked quietly, a skill honed to near perfection after
years of dodging bullies at school and, in the following years, spying on
dangerous people in dangerous places.
Lupin was regaling some of his school memories, but his descriptions of Lily
Evans and James Potter seemed quite far-fetched: he made them sound like
saints. His description of their appearance was spot-on: Potter with his black
hair that stuck to every direction and his hazel eyes and constant grin, and
Lily's stunning beauty, but Lupin made James sound like a loveable little
prankster without a mean bone on his body and all noble and good intent: Lily
sounded like a perfect angel, but Severus also clearly remembered her jealous
streak, her vanity and her ability to bear a grudge, not to mention her
ambition. Her name still made Severus sad, much sadder than James Potter's: she
might have one day become a great Potioneer or a specialist in Charms perhaps,
but her life had been cut short by Voldemort, and, to some extent by Severus,
although unwittingly.
Remus was currently talking about some of James Potter's pranks. Severus heard
Hermione Potter's voice and clinks of dishes: they were apparently taking tea.
Severus recognized the prank: he'd been the victim that day. Potter, Black,
Lupin and Pettigrew had stolen some Swelling Solution and poured it on his
feet, making his feet swell so much they had ripped his shoes. Severus felt an
angry blush creep over his cheeks: they had been his only shoes, and no charm
had been able to repair them properly. He had had to walk with wet feet for
weeks. Lupin was careful not to mention the victim's name, he noticed.
“But that's terrible!” Miss Potter shrieked. “That was cruel and ugly and
horrible.” Severus heard Lupin cough up some crumbs: Miss Potter's reaction had
apparently shocked him.
“Well, he... he wasn't an innocent victim, Hermione. He was quite nasty and
gave as good as he got,” Lupin attempted to defend himself and his old friends.
“No, that's just... you can't do that, not to anyone. I'm sorry you did that. I
wish my father hadn't done that to someone. Please... don't tell me more. I'd
rather not know.” Hermione sounded distressed and sad. Lupin had the decency to
shut his mouth for a while.
“So... I heard you went after a troll in your First Year? That sounds quite
like something we might have done,” Lupin finally said.
“I really didn't,” Miss Potter confessed, “I was in the lavatory when the troll
came in. I'd been crying, you see, and then the boys came looking for me and we
knocked it out together. I took the blame so they wouldn't get in trouble, you
see?”
“That's very noble, and worthy of Gryffindor indeed. Why were you crying?”
“Ronald Weasley called me a nightmare. He said the only reason I have any
friends is because I'm famous, because of this,” Miss Potter said, probably
indicating to her scar, though Severus couldn't see it, “so I wanted to be
alone and cry. Only then the troll came...”
“That was a nasty thing to say, and that is definitely not true, Hermione. You
are not a nightmare, and you do have friends, don't you? From what I heard
you're friends with even that Weasley boy, and some others as well? Did he
apologise?”
“No. But I forgave him anyway. And they all came for me and we worked
together.”
“That's right. And that's what real friends do: they might fight but they also
can forgive. My frfiends and I would quite often fight and quarrel, but we
always forgave each other, in the end. That's true friendship for you. And
you're a good friend to forgive without an apology, Hermione: nothing close to
a nightmare. Now let's finish up our tea and then we'll talk more about some
Dark creatures and spells.”
Severus crept away silently, deep in thought. Lily had never forgiven him for
calling her a Mudblood: yet Miss Potter had been called a nightmare and had
forgiven without an apology. Would Hermione Potter have forgiven him for the
same slur, had she been in the same place as Lily Potter had? Or had Lily
simply used the fight as an excuse to rid herself of a poor, ugly Manc-boy in
favour of her wealthier, more popular friends?
*************************************
There was a day when Hermione saw Severus Snape as a man, not as a teacher.
They had spent the day in discussion about different spells and potions. The
discussion had taken several hours, and they took their evening tea together.
Then professor Snape had gotten up, taken off his teaching robes, and stretched
his arms and back, before prowling to the other side of the room. He had spoken
about Potions and told her about an amusing encounter at a conference in Prague
some years ago: he smirked a bit, a small, lopsided grin.
His body was lithe, his movements fluid and graceful. He moved with the grace
of a panther and the sight hit Hermione like a Bludger to the gut. She felt
dazed.
She looked at him again. His nose might have been too big and crooked for
common tastes, his skin sallow, his hair greasy and lanky, his teeth were
crooked and yellow and his lips thin, but she just saw... him. He was a man. He
might have been almost 20 years her senior, but none of that mattered.
And then she had fallen for him, just like that.
He had said something while she was just staring at his face like a complete
berk. Oh Merlin...
"I'm sorry Sir, could you repeat that? I was miles off..."
Inside Hermione Potter's mind the part that was Hermione Granger smirked. This
was a wiser and smarter crush than the one she had had on Gilderoy Lockhart,
the blasted fraud. in her first life. Granger remembered how Snape had
presumably murdered Albus Dumbledore with an Avada Kedavra, but she was
intelligent enough to know that something wasn't right about that: her logic
and instinct both told her there was something off in that scenario, and
Granger's assessment of the Potions Master through the innocent eyes on
Hermione Potter was quickly proving her point: Severus Snape was no evil
traitor. Her money would be on either the Imperius curse or some plot by
Dumbledore: the old man hadn't even attempted to defend himself, by Merlin's
blood! Harry had always drawn hasty conclusions and refused to listen to
reasoning.
The school would begin soon. Hermione knew that her body was growing older, but
it was still too young for her to remember Granger. The time would come soon,
though, she could feel it.
*************************************
Severus Snape, August 28th 1992
Severus had spent an evening in the safe house's library, babysitting Hermione
while the rest of the Order was too busy. He learned he didn't really mind that
much. Miss Potter had helped him restock the shelves in the school Potions lab
for the last two days: the work was much faster with a helper, and he now had
an extra day and a half of spare time, and a new book to read. Miss Potter was
an easy child to care for: one only needed to give her a book and she'd be
quiet for hours in the end, and the questions she asked — and by Merlin she was
sometimes full of questions! — were quite intelligent.
The girl had been reading an advanced book about Charms: she could not test
them outside the school, but it didn't seem to bother her too much. She had
nodded off an hour and a half ago, and was sleeping on a sofa with her hand on
the book she'd been reading.
Suddenly she moved in her sleep, and Severus turned to look at her. Her eyes
opened in her sleep, and for just a short while the eyes were brown: a lovely
shade of whisky Severus had seen in the Pensieve memory. The eyes seemed
unfocused, and then they closed again, the girl mumbled something and continued
to sleep.
Severus sat and pondered. He was sure that the brown eyes indicated Hermione
Granger's presence.
Perhaps the Granger-part had surfaced in her sleep. He'd have to talk to Albus
about this.
When Severus woke her up fifteen minutes later and sent her to bed, her eyes
with bleary but back to the familiar shade of green with brown speckles. She
yawned and bade him good night, but gave no indication that anything would be
out of the ordinary.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Hestia Jones, September 1st, 1992
 
Hestia smiled as she lead Hermione Potter through London. They were running a
bit late: so many members of the new Order of the Phoenix had arrived to wish
her a happy school year. Hermione would be missed, Hestia mused: she was such a
lovely, considerate and mature child for her age.
Hestia smiled as they walked and chatted amicably. Hermione was extremely
excited about her studies, and the members of the Order often joked that it was
harder to make Hermione relax and have fun like the other children did than to
make her study. Hestia herself had spent as much of her time with Hermione as
possible, and had grown very attached to the girl. During her school years
Hestia had gotten injured in an accident in Defence against the Dark Arts-
class: a stray Hex had caused internal damage, and she'd never been able to
have a child of her own: in a way Hermione was now filling that place inside
her, a daughter she could love and pamper.
“I heard you singing in the bath this morning,” Hestia said, smiling. Hermione
blushed. “Remus and Daedalus were there as well, and we all thought you have
such a lovely voice. Have you thought of singing as a hobby?”
“No,” the girl replied. “There's the Hogwart's school song but that's just...”
Hermione grimaced and Hestia laughed. “The Sorting Hat sings, of course, but
all the hobbies at school seem to involve studies or Quidditch. I do like to
sing.”
“I take it you have never had any lessons?” Hestia asked.
For some reason an odd image rose before Hermione's mind: a small woman with
short brown hair and a green dress was seated in front of a piano. The woman
was singing softly and playing a tune: her voice was soft and melodious, and
for a while Hermione felt inexplicably sad. Then the image was just... gone,
and Hermione Potter shook her head. “No, never.”
“Would you like to? I used to sing a bit when I was younger. I could ask
Professor Dumbledore if he would allow me to give you singing lessons during
weekends. I know how you tend to get drawn into your studies: it's good to have
hobbies as well.”
Hermione nodded enthusiastically and beamed at her. Hestia's heart fluttered:
the poor orphan needed all the joy she could get.
They were now approaching the Platform 9¾. Everyone had already gone through
and the train's departure was only about five minutes away. Hestia helped
Hermione push her trolley as they approached the entrance at a brisk pace...
only to be thrown back by the wall, as if the entrance wasn't there. Hermione's
cart made a terrible sound as it fell, the girl shouted in fright, and
Hermione's owl Hedwig fluttered in panic as her cage tipped over. Hermione
immediately scooted over to secure the cage, soothing Hedwig and making sure
the bird wasn't injured.
Hestia immediately caught a hold of Hermione's hand with one hand, told her to
keep a hold on Hedwig, and Apparated them to the safe house. She pushed the
girl inside, immediately Disapparated back to the platform, took a hold on
Hermione's luggage and returned to the safe house, panting in exhaustion, just
as Remus appeared with his eyes wide in shock.
“Aren't you supposed to be in the train? It's almost eleven,” Remus asked.
“Something went wrong, and I took the security measures,” Hestia replied,
shoving the heavy luggage to Remus. “I don't know if someone intended to attack
us, but the Platform entry closed and didn't allow us entrance. I instantly
brought her here, then went back for the luggage. We're unharmed and I saw no
attacker, but I didn't dare take a chance.”
“Well done,” Remus said, lowering Hermione's trunk on the floor. “We'll have to
Apparate her to the school. The train has already left. I think we should take
a couple of others along, just as far as the school gates: Diggle and Vance are
still here, and I can send a Patronus for more. Shacklebolt perhaps.”
They finally decided that four escorts were enough. While Hestia called for
Emmeline and Daedalus to accompany them, Remus sent his Patronus to the school
to alert Dumbledore of what happened and ask for a house-elf to accompany a
Professor to the gates for Hermione's trunk. Hermione looked a little pale at
the prospect of yet another side-along Apparition for the day, but did not
protest: Remus passed her a piece of chocolate before picking up her heavy
trunk and spinning, then disappearing with a loud crack. Emmeline went next
with Hermione's owl, then Hestia with Hermione and Daedaus came last, all
landing at the gates of Hogwarts.
Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape approached them at a brisk pace: Hermione
squealed with delight and ran to hug her Potions Professor, then spinning to
embrace the Headmaster in turn. Albus chuckled and Severus looked quite
flabbergasted for a while before schooling his expression to the usual blank,
cold stare, which did not seem to phase Hermione one bit.
“What exactly happened?” Dumbledore queried, as two elves took Hermione's trunk
and Hedwig's cage and disappeared with them. “Why isn't she in the train?”
“The entrance to the platform didn't open, Albus”, Hestia explained, “and I
didn't stick around to find out why. I took Hermione back to the safe house,
then went back for her luggage. The train had already departed either way, and
we decided it was safest to bring her here immediately, with an escort.”
“Well done, all of you,” Albus beamed with his eyes twinkling, though his
expression was serious. “I will launch a subtle investigation on the platform.
Whoever or whatever it was, the magic would have been strong to counter the
gate's enchantment. You were not attacked, I take it?”
“No, I noticed no attackers. The gateway just wouldn't open. It might have been
some innocent fault in magic, perhaps an accident, but I took no chances with
her: I decided to take her immediately away from all the risks.”
“Indeed, well done,” Albus affirmed. “Severus, will you please escort Miss
Potter to her dormitory, so she can settle down?” Hermione turned to hug all of
her escorts, quickly saying her farewells while Snape waited impatiently. It
was obvious they'd all miss her: Daedalus and Remus had tears in their eyes.
“Professor Dumbledore, before I go, might I ask if I would be allowed to give
Hermione singing lessons on weekends?” Hestia asked.
“Singing lessons?” Dumbledore asked, wrinkling his forehead.
“Yes. She has a lovely voice, and she doesn't appreciate Quidditch, but a young
girl needs a hobby in addition to academic endeavours. Perhaps two hours every
Saturday or Sunday, as long as she wishes to continue? I myself used to sing,
and I could use the Room of Requirement to train her.”
“Would you like to learn to sing, Hermione?” the Headmaster asked the girl.
Hermione practically beamed at him.
“Yes, Sir! It'd be lovely!”
“Well then,” Albus smiled at them all, “if Miss Jones can spare the time, I
have no problems with this at all. What do you say, between one and three on
Sunday afternoons?”
“That sounds excellent, Professor”, Hestia replied, and Hermione nodded
enthusiastically. Hestia drew her into a hug and bade her farewell until next
week, before the girl followed the Potions Master toward the school, and Hestia
Disapparated to the Order's safe house again.
 
*************************************
Severus Snape, September 10th 1992
Severus noticed that over the summer Draco Malfoy had changed quite a bit. He
had been a smug and spoiled little brat with a bit of a mean streak, especially
when someone outside Hermione's closest circle was concerned. He still was one,
but there was a new joy to him now. He had happily greeted his Gryffindor
friends, even the Muggle-born Harry Granger and Ron Weasley, though the
animosity between the Weasleys and the Malfoys traditionally stretched decades
back. He had joined the Slytherin Quidditch team as their seeker, but could
also almost daily be found racing against Granger, the Gryffindor team's new
Seeker: the boys would zip and zoom in the air above the castle grounds, their
happy laughter echoing off the trees and battlements. They would play friendly
matches: Ron, Fred and George Weasley would constantly join the game up in the
air, while Neville Longbottom and Hermione Potter remained on the ground,
either studying or conversing while watching their friends let out steam.
New people had gravitated to the group: the First Years Ginevra Weasley from
Gryffindor and Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw were quite often present. Hermione
would coach them all in their studies in her bossy manner: she could sometimes
even be caught haranguing the older Weasley brothers, Fred and George.
Hermione's grades were stellar, though she progressed much faster than anyone
in her year.
But when Hermione Potter and Draco Malfoy appeared side by side on the door of
his office, Snape realised just how big the change in Draco was.
“Professor Snape, Hermione told me about the house-elf that caused problems at
her home during the summer,” Mr Malfoy explained, “and I recognized the name.
If she remembers it correctly and the elf was called Dobby, then it's one of my
father's house-elves.”
Severus sat up even straighter than usual. “Do you know what a Malfoy house-elf
would warn Miss Potter about, Mr Malfoy?” he asked.
“I don't know, Sir. It doesn't sound like something my father would have
ordered, and Hermione told me that the elf said it was working on its own,”
replied Draco, frowning. “My father knows I'm Hermione's friend. He told me to
be her friend but he speaks about her in.. I don't like it, Sir, and I once
told him so. He... got pretty angry at me, Sir, and hasn't spoken to me much at
all since then.”
“I suggest you do not mention this to your father, Mr Malfoy,” Severus slowly
said. “or he will punish the elf and probably distance you further from
himself. You need to get along with your parents.”
“Would you like me to ask Dobby myself when I get home the next time, Sir?”
Severus nodded slowly. “Perhaps, if you can get the the elf to trust you,
though there is a risk your father may react badly to your friendship with Miss
Potter. I will consider this and return to the matter. Was there something
else?”
“Yes, Sir”, Miss Potter replied. “The first was, well, it's Professor Lockhart.
Did you know he's a terrible teacher?”
“Miss Potter, it is inappropriate for a student to make remarks on their
Professors' skills. Be that as it may... has there been some incident?”
Miss Potter blushed. “Not as such, Sir, but he gave us a pop quiz about his
personal preferences and likes, with questions such as 'What is Gilderoy
Lockhart's favourite colour?' that had nothing to do with Defence Against the
Dark Arts. And he released a flock of Cornish Pixies and when he couldn't
contain them, he ran away.”
“Hermione used the Freezing Charm on them so we could collect them. They lifted
Neville by his ears,” Draco said, smirking, and Hermione elbowed him fiercely
with a scowl that made Draco's amused expression disappear as he continued,
“Hermione needs to fight the Dark Lord at some point, doesn't she? And it would
be important for her to learn to defend herself, so Defence should be her main
focus, shouldn't it? But we've been thinking she doesn't learn much at all from
Lockhart.”
“Professor Lockhart, Draco,” Miss Potter corrected her friend.
“Yes, yes, Professor Lockhart” Draco drawled with a bored expression worthy of
the Malfoy legacy, rolling his eyes.
“Well, I will take the matter up with the Headmaster, but you must remember
that the Headmaster selects the teachers and it is not up to the students to
question their Professors,” Severus stated, fixing a firm gaze on his students,
though on the inside he felt like grinning widely. Of course the students would
notice what an ass Lockhart really was; especially these two, cleverest in
their houses.
“Now you two best be off to dinner,” he said in a strict voice that usually
made his students scramble away immediately, but only made these two grin
happily at him as they walked away.
Severus leaned back in his chair. He had to admit to himself that he was glad
Miss Potter was such an intelligent child: he still had to treat all his
Gryffindor students harshly, dole out punishments and take away House Points,
but knowing that in private the girl did not bear a grudge was calming.
 
*************************************
Severus Snape, October 9th 1992
Severus was delivering Lupin his dosage of Wolfsbane Potion. The Headmaster
paid for the Potion ingredients. Severus detested the extra duty of brewing for
the old member of the Marauders, but as Dumbledore said, the risks of not
brewing the Wolfsbane were far too great, and the Order of the Phoenix needed
Remus Lupin. Severus hated the duty, especially when he had to deliver the
goblet in person and listen to his former nemesis try and engage in mindless
small-talk.
“I told Hermione about Lily and James. My memories of them, you know, back from
school. How they were and such. Have you...?”
“No.”
“She needs to know them better, Severus. You were Lily's best friend for years
before that... that day.”
“That's not going to happen. I heard you talk about them once, Lupin. You made
them sound like blasted saints of the highest order.”
“They're dead, Severus, and Hermione is their daughter. It's not good to talk
ill of the dead. I know the things that they... that we... did to you were
disgusting, but it's in the past. And you don't need to talk about James,
really. You could talk about just Lily. There's nothing really bad to say about
her.”
“Really, Lupin?” Severus asked. “Is your memory really that selective? Don't
you really remember...” he stopped.
“Well, I know you were in love with her once. We all were at one point or
another, I think,” Lupin said quietly, looking down into his goblet.
“I do remember. I also remember she used it to her advantage and she was never
nice about it, either. Don't you remember the incident with Pettigrew?”
Lupin drained his goblet and grimaced horribly at the foul taste of the Potion
before handing it back to Severus. “I think it's best we leave the subject to
rest,” he quickly said, “Thank you for the Potion. And the books. The bag over
there is done, we don't need those any more.”
“Yes. I'll send tomorrow's dosage with a house-elf,” Severus said, taking his
leave.
Unpleasant memories rolled in his mind as he picked up the book bag and made it
to the Floo. The Pettigrew incident hadn't crossed his mind in years until he'd
overheard Lupin describe Lily to Hermione in such an unrealistic way.
Lily Evans had been beautiful, true, and at least half the boys in the school
had been infatuated with her. Severus' obsession had been a hard one, but it
never profited him in any way: he was too ugly for Lily, too homely with his
yellow crooked teeth, sallow skin, his spider-like gait (before he'd grown up
and learned to control his long limbs), his beak-like nose, greasy hair and
black eyes.
Lily Evans had been very affectionate. She'd slept around quite a bit: Severus
had been bitter when she slept with the Marauders, each and every one of them:
the handsome and rich Sirius Black and James Potter were no big surprises and
Remus Lupin was intelligent enough to merit Lily's advances, but she'd even
slept with Peter Pettigrew, though she'd later spread nasty gossip about the
boy: it had been Pettigrew's first time, apparently, and the gossip about him
had spread around all the Houses, including Slytherin, within two days: Lily
had spared no scorn for his apparently deplorable performance. At that point
Severus hadn't been surprised: it was more surprising that Pettigrew hadn't
anticipated it.
Evans had been quite attached to Sirius Black as well: after Lily and James
Potter had died, sold out by their Secret Keeper by Sirius Black, the rumours
suggested that Sirius felt betrayed and slighted: that Sirius had considered
proposing to Lily — or had proposed, only to be turned down — in favour of his
best friend James, and that although he'd been Potter's Best Man and Godfather
to their child, he'd harboured a grudge for Lily's choice.
Evans had used her charms for her profit like the toughest Slytherin: she'd
even slept with Avery, Mulciber and Rabastan LeStrange, for Merlin's sakes.
Never with Severus though: he'd tried to kiss her, once, and Lily had backed
away with such an expression of disgust that it had broken his heart. She'd
told about it, and later that week the Marauders had cornered him, used a spell
of his own creation — the Levicorpus — to hang him upside down, and had taken
off his pants. When Lily had stepped in and told Potter off, Severus had seen
the scorn and pity in the eyes on his fellow students: the gangly and odious
Severus Snape hanging upside down in his dirty and threadbare underpants,
knowing that not even Lily Evans wanted to kiss him... Severus had called her a
Mudblood, thus severing their friendship forever.
He'd tried to apologise, of course: profusely, repeatedly, and to no avail.
Lily Evans had joined the Marauders in bullying, pushing Severus to join the
Dark Lord's forces. She'd dated James Potter more seriously in their final
year, and Severus and she never had reconciled.
He'd paid for the one word for decades: oh how much he had paid. A career in
teaching that he detested just so he could serve the Dark Lord and perhaps one
day protect the child of his former nemesis and his first crush: a life without
any affections or love.
No woman had ever wanted Severus Snape; no woman had even touched him
willingly. He'd never kissed a woman: he'd never had sex, not even with a
prostitute though they were readily available at Knockturn Alley. He'd
considered it part of his punishment. He feigned impotence when the Dark Lord
commanded rape of Muggles and Muggle-Borns at his Dark Revels: the Dark Lord
had tested him, of course, but Severus had guessed it and brewed a Potion that
induced complete impotence for a day. He'd been left alone, and the Dark Lord
had appreciated him for his cunning and cold calculations, his skills with
brewing rather than the frenzied bouts of rape and bloodied gore that most
other Death Eaters preferred.
And the guilt was ever present. He had lost his friend, his best friend for
several years, because of one stupid mistake. He'd loved her for a very long
time: though these days, when he felt his heart, he felt a lingering affection
for a good childhood friend, the loss of a promising life and the guilt for it
pressed him harshly.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!