Madame Pomfrey whizzed about the hospital wing, Hermione following silently behind, reciting to her the importance of checking everything before leaving for the night. You never knew what students could do to themselves in the night, you know. You had to be ready to receive the entire quidditch team, if needed.

Which is precisely what it had been like just a few hours before. The hospital wing was packed with players and their friends hovering closely over them when a set of cursed broom sticks went haywire, chucking the players from their spindly handles hundreds of feet in the air. Students plummeted to the ground, Hermione and some of the other teachers breaking their falls best they could.

What was worse, they had no idea who would have cursed the brooms. Hermione had a sinking feeling she knew. Every day the daily prophet highlighted more and more witches and wizards disappearing, as if plucked from thin air. There was a restlessness amongst the students that she had noticed too. Parents had started pulling their children from Hogwarts, claiming it to be unsafe. This broomstick incident was no different. More ammo for their arsenal.

While she didn’t want to admit it, most of the upperclassmen in Slytherin she knew would be or currently were serving the Dark Lord. She knew they would be wreaking havoc to dismantle Dumbledore’s safe façade he had around the school. The more separated and scared people became, the easier they were to control.

She knew that not all death eaters were Slytherins, though. She thought of Peter Pettigrew, probably joking around with James as she stood there right now. Hermione shuddered at the thought. It was a sad, sobering memory of why she was here. She needed to focus on her studies so that she could get through this time and back to her own. Even though someone continued to pull her off track.

She shook the thought of Severus towering over her from her mind and continued on her rounds. Just a few hours ago, the students in the infirmary were lying in the very same beds, covered in their own blood, limbs sticking out at awkward angles. Now, they lay in bed, fast asleep. She wished she could return to her rooms and do the same, since today had been such a trying one. Unfortunately, she had detention duty with Severus and Remus tonight, which she had to push back because of the high demand at the infirmary.

She cast a diagnostic spell over James Potter, his dark lashes resting on his sun-kissed cheeks. He looked just like an older version of Harry here. She almost wanted to give in to the urge to pretend it was her best friend for just a moment, to comfort herself. But she shook the absurd notion from her mind. Harry wasn’t even a thought at this point in time. He was living out his life along with her in another time right now, though. That thought did comfort her.

From what she had read of time travel in the library, there were different paths of time that she was living, but they all coexisted along with each other. So if something happened in one timeline, it would ripple throughout the rest. Which is why it was so important she kept things the way they were supposed to be. She thought of it as rows of bricks that are stacked on top of each other, when something is in the way of one brick and it gets laid down at an angle, it will affect every layer after that. Causing a ripple, if you will. The same was true with time travel, the less ripples created, the better.

However, what Dumbledore had said to her last night bothered her. It seemed like there had to have been some sort of disturbance to make a mental connection between her and Severus. She knew she hadn’t done anything so far to make a connection like that, and she doubted he had the magical ability to do that. She needed to find out if he was experiencing the same dreams as she was, or if this was all just one big coincidence. She was hoping for the latter, but the realist in her knew it was the first.

She finished checking on the players and lowered the lights in the infirmary before shutting the doors and warding them before walking down the hall to the room she used for brewing her bigger projects.

She had several cauldrons simmering with potions that needed to stay like that for a long time before their next steps were taken. It was quite a bit warmer in the small room than in the open, airy hospital wing. She fanned herself and was silently thankful that her curly hair was hidden under a glamour, otherwise it would surely get frizzy in the thick air.

She heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Remus slip through the door. He looked awful, his skin was sallow and his eyes had dark circles surrounding them. His clothes looked more ragged than normal and she noticed he had a couple tears that needed mending. He quickly took a seat at one of the stools, not making eye contact with her. He was hunched over, tired looking.

“Good evening, Mr. Lupin.” She said in a small voice, giving him a worried look but covering it with a smile.

He glanced up at her quickly before becoming very invested in picking at his nails, “Evening, Miss. Cresswell.”

Hermione watched as he looked everywhere but at her, growing more worried by the moment. “Remus, are-are you okay?” She asked quietly.

He gave her a great sigh and his expression was pained. He seemed to think about what he wanted to say for a long time before opening his mouth to speak, then closing it. Then, as he opened it again, the door opened and he whipped around to see Severus striding through the darkened room.

Hermione glanced up at him and saw his robes billowed dramatically in this time the same as they did in hers. She sighed, knowing she would get nothing from Lupin now, and took a step away from Lupin.

Severus’ lip turned up in a snarl of disgust as she saw how close she had been to Remus and he glared at her. He swept over to the stool opposite Remus and perched stiffly upon it.

Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself before looking at the two wizards in front of her, “You both know why you’re here, so I don’t need to go over the seriousness of your actions, I presume?” they both gave her looks of displeasure before side-eyeing each other. Hermione nodded, “Right. So, I thought we could brew some bone replenishing potions tonight, seeing as the quidditch teams ran us nearly dry today.” Hermione flicked her wand at the board and her swooping script appeared with the instructions for the potion. “This room is rather small, so we will be working in tight quarters, I’m afraid. I’ve been told you’re both extremely gifted in potions so this should be a rather easy task for you, but if you have any questions, I’m here to help.”

“What time do we get to leave?” Snape’s voice drawled, clearly unimpressed by her intentions for the night.

Hermione’s face flushed with frustration at his sarcasm, but cleared her throat and pressed on, “I suppose when the potion is finished, you may leave. Until then, you’re stuck with me.” Her lip curled up with the glare she got at the last sentence.

Remus jumped up and started quickly assembling his ingredients. Snape seemed to want to stay as far away as possible from the Gryffindor, so he busied himself with getting his cauldron ready. Hermione joined Remus with getting her ingredients. When they both returned to the table, Hermione set half of the bottles and ingredients she had carried next to Severus, who eyed her suspiciously.

“What was that for?” He murmured while continuing to scrub at his cauldron.

“We are all getting the same things, I may as well grab some for you too.” She felt his eyes on her and could tell they were narrowed in confusion. She continued preparing her cauldron and he tore his eyes away from her and focused them back on his own work.

Remus scrubbed at his cauldron and was the first one to start working on his potion. He added the ingredients quickly, seeming to want to hurry the process along as quickly as possible. Hermione watched as he quickly sliced through the root of asphodel, adding it to his already simmering pot.

She glanced over at Severus who was crushing baneberry, the red juice staining the wooden surface below. He flicked his wand at it and the juice formed a little sphere in the air and he slowly levitated it down into his cauldron.

To say Hermione was a little intimidated was an understatement. She had two of the best professors she had sharing a work table with her. She knew that she had been through more schooling at this point than they had, but still, two of the students of their time were making potions along side her. She wanted to watch them work and not even focus on her potion. She knew that wasn’t an option, though.

She quickly got to work on her potion, letting the memory of Snape teaching her how to brew this very potion the first time flood her mind. She had copied his instructions on the board and not the one that came from Advanced Potion Making like she normally would follow. She had noticed early on that if she followed Snape’s instructions, the potions tended to take less time and worked better than the outcome from the book’s instructions. But that was no surprise. Snape was a renowed potioneer. He had come up with several potions and spells himself, there was no question that he was gifted. Some of which, he had come up with during his time at Hogwarts.

Lupin, on the other hand, was extremely gifted but had the detriment of extreme prejudice against him. While he tried to become published for the inventions he had come up with, he was rejected due to his status as a werewolf. People didn’t want to work with someone so dangerous. He had explained this all to her while she was studying with him over the fall. He was jealous of Snape’s success, but there was nothing he could do about it. This thought enraged her at the time and made her angry on Lupin’s behalf.

It wasn’t fair that people judged him so harshly. But she understood that judgement all too well, being a muggle-born. She had to deal with pure-bloods underestimating and looking down on her all the time, but she was sure that wouldn’t result in anything like what Lupin was experiencing.

Some time later, she caught herself staring at Snape’s long fingers sweeping over the ingredients. His hands deftly cut through the boomslang, skinning it and leaving the remains until he flicked his wand and they disappeared. His hands seemed to gracefully dance across the table, making short work of the potion.

However, Lupin was the first to finish. He quickly bottled his potion and cleaned his cauldron. Hermione watched as he worked like a mad man to get out of the small classroom. She was sure he had changed last night and that’s why he was so eager to be gone. He was probably extremely tired since he didn’t get to sleep as a wolf or a human.

Hermione thanked him and wished him a goodnight before he hurried out of the small room, leaving her and Severus to work on the last part of the potion. She inspected Remus’ potion as hers simmered for five minutes and compared his slightly duller ruby color to her own. He would have done better if he hadn’t been in such a rush, but this would do fine for the hospital wing’s use.

She looked over at Severus’ cauldron and wanted to throw up in disgust at his perfectly shimmering ruby red potion. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he still caught the look. His face turned smug at her jealous look and he gave the pot a little stir with just the motion of his finger, wandlessly and wordlessly.

“How-?”

Snape smirked at her, “You diced your baneberry instead of crushing and juicing it. Rookie mistake, Cresswell.”

Hermione sneered at him, “That was never in your instructions.”

“I didn’t write them, did I?”

“Yes you d-“ Hermione bit her tongue, eyes wide. “I guess not. I wrote them.”

“You probably follow the book to the letter, don’t you?”

Hermione’s voice raised an octave, “No! I know better than to do that.”

Snape chuckled at her as he bottled his potion up. “Sure you do.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and started bottling up her own potion, “Oh, push off, Severus!” She said in an exasperated tone.

His eyes locked with hers, glinting in the dim light of the small room. “Do you really mean that?”

Hermione sucked in a breath as she felt like she had been hit in the chest with a bat. She knew that look. He said the exact same thing to her the other night in her dream. She felt the brush of his mind against hers and she immediately blocked him out of her head.

Snape smirked at her and turned to continue cleaning up his things like nothing happened. Hermione was stunned. She stared at him as he cleaned up. “Can I help you with something, Acacia, or are you enraptured with my beauty?” Snape said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Do you remember how to get into my rooms?” Hermione asked him. This was her test. In her dream, he said he remembered how to get past her wards because it was easier to get through once you had been on the inside of them.

Snape smirked at her but kept his eyes on his cauldron, “Is this some sort of invitation?”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, “No! I just want to know.” She sniffed.

“Why do you ask?” Severus’ eyes met hers.

Hermione floundered for an excuse before she settled on just telling him the truth, “I’ve been having these strange dreams. I’m not really sure why. But they always involve…you.”

Severus’ lips quirked, “You’re dreaming of me?”

Hermione’s eyes threatened to roll out of her head, “Oh, never mind!” She huffed and turned back to her own work.

She felt his hand grasp her upper arm and turn her, “Look, I’m sorry.” Snape’s face sobered and he looked down at his feet, his left hand pulled at the cuff of his robes nervously. “To be honest, I have been having some dreams of my own, and I don’t know what they mean. Maybe we could…work together and figure them out.”

Hermione was stunned by his sudden change from snarky and overly-confident to honest and sincere. She looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the cuffs of his robes. “I would like that, Severus.”

They finished cleaning up, Snape returned to his normal sarcastic self, making Hermione crack up a few times. She was beginning to like this side of Severus. She wondered what happened to it to make him the man she knew, but then she remembered his dark mark.

There was nothing she could do to prevent him from taking it, but maybe she could convince him to see things differently in the short time she had here. After all, something made him change his mind and side with Dumbledore eventually, right?