He just winked at me! Professor Snape just winked at me! Hermione was hardly aware that, in her shock, her brain had reverted to addressing Snape by his formal title. However, despite her racing mind (and racing heart) she did her utmost to keep her face blank as smooth, as Snape had advised. There was a faint tickle in her chest, and that tickle felt a heck of a lot like hope “ hope that there was a way out of this mess in one piece. And maybe, she thought further, maybe, even with the Horcrux, too.
Snape was standing before her and Fiora, who had a similarly dazed expression on her face. His wand was pointed steadily at them, and he was murmuring softly to himself. His eyes were as impermeable as two tiny oil wells. Hermione couldn’t quite reconcile that Snape really had given her a sign of collusion mere moments before. What about his incessant, petty grudge against Harry? And not just Harry! Ron and I have put up with a lot from Snape simply by being Harry’s best friends! She was remembering times that she’d suffered deep embarrassment because of her former Potions professor, not the least of which were being called a “know-it-all” in front of all of her classmates and being taunted about her teeth when Malfoy’s spell against Harry went awry during fourth year. And Dumbledore…Snape killed him. But why? Hermione tried to still her thoughts “ something told her that an answer was forthcoming. More importantly, she needed to be ready, ready for whatever was coming next.
Snape was gripping his wand tightly, still muttering under his breath, and beckoning them forward with his long, thin fingers. He was backing slowly towards the single chair in the oubliettium, drawing them forward. That must be the exit! He’s getting us out of here…but where is he taking us? And to whom? Hermione’s heart thumped crazily against her ribcage, as she edged dreamily forward, towards the chair.
When she and Fiora got close enough, Snape pointed his wand at them. Hermione felt her feet lift gently off the ground. She was being pulled, tugged towards Snape much like a metal shaving would be pulled toward a powerful magnet. Snape seated himself on the chair, and grabbed each she and Fiora roughly with his hands. Hermione felt the hackles rise on the back of her neck. Her stomach rolled mutinously. Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen very soon. Be ready, be ready…she cautioned herself.
Hermione managed to peek at him through her half-opened eyes and tangled hair. Snape was gazing at her again, still speaking under his breath. A hard glint came into his dark, haunted eyes and she felt the smallest amount of added pressure from his hand on her arm. He’s warning me “ get ready, Hermione, get ready “ and before she could think of anything else “ two things happened.
She suddenly felt the slim, solid, reassuring weight of her wand in the back pocket of her filthy jeans. No sooner had she joyfully registered this fact than she realized she was moving - the world began spinning violently. All she saw were two faces “ Snape’s, long and homely, surrounded by stringy black hair, eyes blazing; and Fiora’s, her eyes still dreamy and distant, her yellow hair a fluffy cloud whipping around her head.
The world stopped whirling at the precise moment Hermione thought her stomach could take no more. She crashed painfully onto rocky ground, Fiora tumbling on top of her. Hermione reached a shaky hand behind her, extracted her wand from her pocket. Before she could push herself up, Fiora was already on her feet, wand in hand, pointing it at Snape’s long nose.
“What is this Severus? Where are we?”
Snape rolled his eyes, grabbed Fiora’s slim wrist. “There’s no time for theatrics, Fiora, though I do know you enjoy them. You and the girl have to take the Horcrux and go, don’t you see? There’s very little time before we are missed! If we are found now, there will be nothing I’ll be able to do for any of us. We’ll be as good as dead.” Snape released Fiora’s arm and shoved her carelessly backwards, but she managed to remain upright. There seemed to be more than anger in his expression as he glared at her, but Hermione couldn’t tell what.
Hermione was still in shock, stunned literally to silence. Fiora was helping her to her feet. Snape…on our side? Snape…risking his life to save us? Snape…giving us back the Horcrux? But “
“You killed Dumbledore?” Hermione’s doubt turned the statement into a question. Snape, who was rummaging around in his cloak, spun towards her. Hermione flinched at his chilly gaze but didn’t lower her eyes. The curiosity that was deeply ingrained in her nature won out over Snape’s ability to intimidate her. He had a familiar blue box in his hand. He handed it without a word to Fiora, who was also staring at him, fascinated.
“You doubt it, Ms. Granger? You doubt the one topic of conversation that has not waned for a single second on the lips and in the ears of everyone in the wizarding world for the past two months? Or do you doubt that I have the power to kill one of the greatest wizards who ever lived?” Snape leaned in, very close to her. He seemed to be divining the answer from her widened eyes. “I never really admired your way of handling yourself, Ms. Granger - you lack subtlety. However, I have always thought that you were far too intelligent to think that everything is always what it seems on the surface. I am “ glad - to be proven correct.”
Hermione was trying to catch her breath after this admission “ and backhanded compliment “ from a man she’d always viewed with fear and, if she admitted it to herself, faint disgust. Before she could find her voice, Fiora spoke.
“What are you saying, Severus?” Hermione could see Fiora’s small frame trembling. “That this was all set up, all along? That Dumbledore told you to kill him? That you’re “ what? Playing double agent, that you have been all this time?” Hermione realized that Fiora wasn’t shaking from fear or shock, but repressed anger. “You may be able to trick a former student, Severus, but you’ve forgotten the other half of your audience “ I remember you from Hogwarts, skulking around, looking down at anyone who came from a Muggle family. As if you were Pureblood yourself, what a joke! And then right after graduation, the company you kept when we were all working in London “ Nott, Lucius Malfoy and that snooty blond cousin of Sirius’ that he married “”
“Fiora, as much as I enjoy having my loyalty impugned, we have no time for this now!” Snape hissed, his voice quiet but hard with fury. “As for thinking that you know me because we were students together, that you can spew off all of these ‘facts’ about me, especially considering the company you kept “” Hermione could see that Snape wanted to defend himself against Fiora’s rant, and wondered why it was so important to him. He fancies her…but before Hermione could clarify that thought, Snape continued.
“I suppose to expect a single word of thanks from either of you would be expecting a word too much,” he sneered. “However, you should know that I’ve turned the Horcrux temporarily into a Portkey “ not the safest proposition considering the object, but it’ll get you where you need to go. It’s going to transport you in “” he checked his pocket watch, glanced at the moon riding high in the sky, “-in about nine minutes. It will take you a turnip field about five kilometers from Arthur Weasley’s house. Tell Arthur “ tell him that I will be in touch with him before the week is out, by owl post. The correspondence will not have any traceable marks on it. Tell him he will have to use the ‘Scriptoureous’ incantation and only he will be able to do so. You should also tell him he has a leak in the Order, although I don’t know whom.”
“This is insane! You actually expect us to trust you? You! A murderer and a liar and a “”
“Fine! Be my guest! Stay here, by all means, Fiora, get yourself and the girl killed. Worse than killed, actually. The girl’s valuable to the Dark Lord because she’s close to Potter, she’ll have information he’ll want. Feel free to stay here, and watch her be tortured by the Cruciatus Curse! Is that what you want? Is it? Is it?” Snape was inches from Fiora, and there was a look of desperation on his face that Hermione had never seen before. And suddenly, she believed him.
“He’s telling the truth, Fiora,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t really understand it all yet, but he’s not lying.” Hermione was thinking back six years, to a time when she’d set Snape’s robes on fire. She had thought he was trying to kill Harry “ when in fact, he had been protecting him.
“Hermione, you simply don’t understand what this man is capable of and I “”
“No, Fiora, actually I do. I just remembered. That’s why I am taking a leap of faith,” Hermione interjected, staring hard at Snape. His face was as impenetrable and cold as always, but his eyes flitted away in what Hermione thought was embarrassment. Embarrassment at being recognized doing something honorable, and good. Who convinced you that you were such a terrible man, Professor? She thought this, but didn’t have the guts to say it out loud.
Snape cleared his throat, looked at his watch again. “You have one minute. Miss Granger, I suggest you take hold of that Horcrux right now.”
At his words, Fiora dubiously opened the blue box. The Horcrux was glowing redly, now permanently the ornate cup it had always been. The two women gazed at each other in the scarlet light, then each placed a tentative finger on its golden rim.
Hermione reached her other hand out, grasped Snape’s robe. She felt him recoil involuntarily. “Thank you, Professor. Thank you for saving our lives.” His face softened slightly and she released his sleeve not a moment too soon. The next instant, Hermione was yanked forward, and the world once again began to spin. The only thought left in her mind was of the Burrow, and getting there as soon as she could.
* * *
“It’s just over this hill, I recognize the big maple!” Hermione gleefully gasped as she caught sight of the stately old tree that dominated the Burrow’s backyard. They had landed with a crash in Snape’s turnip field, as he’d promised, but the five kilometers had felt more like fifty to their exhausted minds and bodies.
Fiora nodded weakly. “I sure hope you’re right.” She shifted the blue box containing the Horcrux in her arms.
“I am. The Burrow is one of my favorite places in the world,” despite her exhaustion and confusion, Hermione couldn’t keep the grin off her face.
Fiora caught a bit of her excitement and smiled tiredly back at her. “Arthur was always going on about what a good cook his wife is. I sure hope he wasn’t entirely blinded by bias in that department.”
Hermione burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh. “No, he wasn’t. Mrs Weasley really is one of the best cooks I’ve ever met.” She paused as they crested the final hill to the backyard. Hermione had wondered the entire walk whether or not anyone would be at the Burrow. She appreciated that her disappearance, and Fiora’s, were bound to cause a stir. And she had no idea what Harry and Ron had found at Lupin and Tonk’s flat in Paris…
But there was a dim, lone light burning through the Burrow’s kitchen window. And then she saw the familiar, enormous shape sitting guard on the back porch.
“Eh! Who goes there in the middle of the night? Show yehselves!” Hagrid had jumped to his feet, pink “umbrella” in hand.
“Hagrid!” Hermione replied, dashing forward. “It’s me! Hermione! And Fiora, too, we’ve just-” but before she could continue, she was lifted off of her feet into muscle-crushing hug, Hagrid’s large tears splashing onto her head.
“Hermione! Yeh don’ know what we’ve all ben goin’ through, not knowin’ where you two had gotten to. Boy, yeh both are a sight for sore eyes, says I,” Hagrid released her unceremoniously, and she wobbled on her feet. Hagrid had scooped Fiora, who let out a sound somewhere between a giggle and a gasp, up in a bear hug.
“Hagrid? Is anyone else here?” Hermione asked.
“Yeh better believe it. Molly, Fred and Ginny. Harry “ and Ron too. I tell yeh, Hermione, neither of those boys have gotten a lick of sleep since yeh disappeared, and the whole lot of ‘em managed to rescue Tonks too. I think Ron’s knocked out across the kitchen table, actually. Yeh better get in there and wake ‘im up,” Hagrid’s eyes twinkled a little, and not just with tears.
Hermione opened the kitchen door and stepped inside. The safe, warm smells of old, polished wood and roasted chicken dinner enveloped her like a blanket. And there he was. Way too tall and big and unwieldy, sprawled snoring across the wooden planks of the table. His copper hair falling across his eyes, which looked bruised with exhaustion.
She walked over to him, stroked his flushed, freckled cheek. She couldn’t help it. The minute she touched him, the tears overflowed. She didn’t bother to brush them away.
“I love you, Ronald Weasley,” she whispered into his ear. His eyes popped open.
“Hermione?” He croaked. He grabbed her hand, held it. He stared blearily up at her. “Are you a dream? Or are you real?”
“Real,” she managed through her tears. “Really real.” He stood up, and she could see he was crying too. He seemed unable to say anything else, but he gathered her in his arms. And for a few minutes, words were completely unnecessary. They both had everything they needed.
The Time is Now by Hermione816
Chapter Notes: Remember the pickle that Hermione and Fiora were in? Well, go back a few chapters, and re-read then! Anyway, what's up with Snape? Is he good? Is he bad? And, well, let's just say there's a reunion in this chapter as well. Enjoy!