Hermione walked through the castle, the clicking of her shoes echoing through the deserted halls as she walked in the dim light. It was late, and she really shouldn’t have been wandering, but she couldn’t resist herself a trip to the library. There was a book there that she had been itching to get her hands on when she was back in her normal time, but didn’t have the permissions to get to it. Now that she was technically at the status of a professor, she didn’t need special permissions to check books out in the restricted section.

She walked slowly down the deserted halls, enjoying the moonlight outside. Just a few nights ago had been the full moon, so the grounds outside the windows were well lit in a silvery cast. She trailed her fingers absent-mindedly over the rough texture of the brick as she walked along, not really paying much attention to anything. Until she saw something moving on the grounds.

She stopped in her tracks and saw three dark figures moving through the shadows of the forbidden forest towards the castle. She strained her eyes to try to make out who they were and could barely make out that they were people, much less their faces.

Years of getting into trouble with Ron and Harry made her want to follow the figures and meet them down on the first floor to see what they were up to. But she knew that the first wizarding war was upon this time. It could very well be aurors the Dumbledore had stationed around the school.

She watched as the figures approached, it seemed to take them forever to cross the grounds. One was limping and the other was helping it along. The third’s robes billowed behind him as he crossed across the silvery grass.

Hermione blinked and her eyes narrowed. She knew that stride and those billowing robes anywhere. That was definitely Severus Snape. What was he doing out of the castle at this time of night? The other two she finally was able to deduce were Mulciber and Avery, two of Severus’ friends and future death eaters. That is, if they weren’t already. Severus was, so they probably were too, come to think of it. And if they were all together, injured, and sneaking into the castle late at night, Hermione was sure she knew where they had just come from.

She turned quickly and headed down the corridor, sprinting towards the changing staircases. She hurried down them, upsetting some of the portraits on her way down. Getting chided and hissed at as she rushed down the stairs, not caring enough to throw apologies behind her. She hurried down the corridor that led to the main entrance and stopped short, just behind the corner.

She heard the door creak open and the shuffle of footsteps before shutting it behind them. Hermione’s ears strained to hear the whispered conversation between the three boys, but she could pick out Severus’ deep baritone voice slip through the night straight away.

“He needs medical attention.”

“Is nuffing I can’ ‘andle. It’s jus a lil’ broken bone and a few scrapes, innit, Mulciber?”

There was an incoherent moan of pain. It took every ounce of self-control that Hermione had to not lose her cover and demand to tend to the boy. Even if he was a death eater. And Avery sounded like he was two sheets to the wind and in no condition to do any healing.

“Sides, you ‘erd wha’ da Dark Lord said,” Avery drunkenly slurred, “Not anover close call. Wouldn’t want anover slip up like da last time, eh, Snapey?”

Severus’ tone grew dark and slow, “You left me alone, and unconscious in the hall outside of the infirmary. There wasn’t much I could do about who found me, was there?”

Hermione flinched. She was the one who had found him the last time. But she had taken him into her own quarters and healed him there, its not like she had reported it to Pomfrey.

“Tha’ bitch saw your mark though. ‘N you know wha’ ‘appens to those who know who shouldn’t.” There was a wet “Kccch!” noise that Hermione saw could only assume was accompanied by Avery’s finger sliding across his throat, mimicking slitting it open.

Hermione’s hand flew to her neck and her heart raced. She shouldn’t be here. Her stomach had a sinking feeling that if they found her there, Avery’s reenactment of her death wouldn’t be an act.

“She can’t be killed, you fool!” Severus hissed. Hermione’s heart fluttered in relief. “Not yet, at least. She has information that I need and I am determined to get it.”

Hermione’s eyes that had fluttered shut in momentary relief, flew open again in panic. What did he mean? She didn’t have any information that he could possibly need! Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, but her feet felt like they were charmed to the floor.

She heard the footsteps start to shuffle towards her again and she ripped herself from her spot on the floor just in time, vanishing behind a tapestry in the shadows.

Snape stared at the spot she had just been in, his black eyes scanning the spot. His eyelids fluttered shut as he inhaled the scent of her perfume and when his eyes opened again, they were narrowed. Hermione’s breathing was shallow and barely audible as he scanned the corridor, almost like he knew she was there.

She felt his mind brush against hers and she immediately blocked him out, praying it was subtle enough for him to notice how shaken she was. She felt him linger on the edge of her mind, as if scanning it as well, making sure nothing was out of sorts. She cleared her head as much as possible, thinking about the book she was originally supposed to be on her way to get and kept her mind off the imminent danger that was only a few feet away from her.

She felt his mind slip out of hers and he turned slowly, his robes brushing gently around his ankles, and he turned to follow Avery and Mulciber down the hallway.

When their forms were eclipsed by the darkness of the corridor, Hermione finally dared to let a breath out. She peeked out from the tapestry and didn’t see him, so decided the coast was clear. She shakily stepped out from behind the tapestry and hurried in the opposite direction of the boys.

- - -

Hermione was distracted the next few days at the hospital wing and Pomfrey had taken notice. So much so, that she sent her to her rooms early that day to get some rest. Hermione was a jittery mess, knocking over ingredients, almost maiming a simple stitch on a second year boy’s brow, and spilling a valuable potion that Pomfrey could only get once a year because of its brew time.

To say she was a mess, was the understatement of the year. Hermione angrily pulled at a strand of her hair as she tried to focus on a book. Focusing was nearly impossible though. All she could think about was Severus. Was this how Harry felt all the time about Voldemort? Never knowing when and if he was planning on killing him?

Hermione gave a frustrated huff and pushed the book off her. She crossed her small room and picked up the little picture of her and the boys and a small smile pulled at her lips. She missed them terribly. All she wanted to do was talk to Harry about what was going on and joke with Ron and get after them about something mundane, but no. She was stuck in this time where none of them were technically even born yet. She looked at Crookshanks’ little mouse toy and missed him dearly as well. The little half kneazle was one of her best friends and she missed his fluffy butt nearly suffocating her in the morning. The looks of judgement he passed upon her when she told him of her woes was something she held dearly.

“Who are those?”

Hermione yelped in shock and spun around, her wand jabbing into the chest of Severus Snape. “Severus? What are you doing in here?” She yelled in outrage and shock.

He raised his hands in mock defense, “I just came by to see how you were doing. Pomfrey said you were out sick today. I thought maybe you could use some help.”

Hermione kept her wand firmly in his chest, “How did you get into my rooms?”

“They’re easier to get into once you’ve been on the inside of them.” His dark eyes glittered for a moment before he continued, “I honestly just wanted to make sure you were doing okay, Cresswell. No ulterior motives here.”

Hermione glared at him and slowly lowered her wand, “You always have and ulterior motive, Severus Snape.” She murmured.

Snape pouted in pretend hurt, “Ouch, that hurts, Cresswell.” Hermione turned back and quickly stuffed the picture under a book before he could examine it closer, “Who’s the picture of? A boyfriend?”

Hermione snorted, “Hardly, they were friends of mind in school.”

“I see. Well, how are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I’m a bit conflicted at the moment. Why?”

Severus tugged at the cuff of his sleeve and looked past her to the wall behind her, “Well, I wanted to know if you wanted to meet with me sometime to talk about the dream issue. I’ve been doing some research, and I thought it would be best if we talked about what we’ve each been experiencing so we know what we are dealing with. We may be able to control it, even, and replicate it together so that we can try to control it.”

Hermione nodded at his obvious zeal over what he had found. “I’ve been doing some research of my own, as well. I think meeting would be a good idea.” The thought of meeting Severus alone now made her nervous, but she tried to quell the anxious butterflies in her stomach, “Tomorrow night? Does that work for you?”

“Sure. Eight? I’ll meet you at the hospital wing.”

Hermione swallowed dryly, “Sounds like a plan.”

- - -

Hermione woke abruptly, pages sticking to her face that she had to peel away. The dim light of the library had been extinguished, leaving only her desk illuminated. Books splayed across the desk in a mess of pages and prints, stacked and strewn in every which way. She had fallen asleep doing research on the dreams. She couldn’t believe that the cranky librarian, Madame Pince, hadn’t waken her before closing the library.

She started shutting the tomes and letting them levitate themselves back to their spots on the bookshelves, walking up and down the rows of books. It was dark and she barely noticed something move beside her before she jumped and saw Severus, also putting away a stack of books.

“Severus? What are you doing here at this time of night?”

His lips quirked into a small smirk, his eyes never leaving the books, “I could ask you the same thing.”

His eyes snapped to hers and she felt her heart racing in its cage. “I-I’m of age and therefore allowed to be out whenever I chose to be. Its none of your concern-“

“Are you?”

Hermione was taken aback at the simple question. “What?”

“Are you of age? Because the more I get to know about you, Miss Cresswell, the less I feel like I know about you.” He sneered her name.

Hermione took a step back and he took a step towards her. She took another and another until her back was up against the bookshelf and he was towering over her. She clutched a book to her chest, the only thing between her and Severus’ bodies pressing together. Her head pounded and her jaw was tight like she had a migraine, but she pushed the pain aside, too scared to look away from his eyes.

He bent his head and for a moment Hermione thought he was either going to kiss her neck or suck it like the true bat of the dungeons Ron claimed him to be. Instead, he inhaled her scent, his eyes closing like he was trying to memorize it. He leaned back so that he was only inches from her face, “You heard me talking to my brothers the other night, didn’t you?”

Hermione felt like she couldn’t lie to him, almost like she was compelled to tell him the truth. She nodded, her eyes locked to his. “I did.”

“And are you scared of me now?” His breath tickled her skin as he talked, his face was so close to hers. She could smell mint on his breath and the woodsy scent of whatever cologne he used.

Hermione swallowed thickly, “A little.”

Severus lips twisted into a smirk, “Good. You should stay away from me, Cresswell.”

A surge of Gryffindor courage pulsed through her, “And what if I don’t want to? What if I know that deep down, you’re not a bad person, Severus? Would that ruin the façade you’ve worked so hard to create?” She stuck her jaw out in stubbornness.

Severus leaned in closely and whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin and sending a shiver down her spine as he murmured, “How do you know who I am?”

Hermione’s voice came out more breathy than she intended as she felt his hand trace down her side. Her grip like a vice on the book between them, “Because I know who you are, Severus. You are a great man. If Dumbledore trusts you, then I will trust you, as well.”

Hermione’s cheeks burned red when she felt his fingers trace her hip bone beneath her shirt, but just as soon as he was on her, he ripped away from her. “Dumbledore? What do you mean?”

“Well, you see, in time-“ Hermione’s hand flew to her mouth to make her stop talking, Why was she so compelled to tell him everything? She shook her head and slipped from around him. She fled from the stacks before Severus could pull her back in and heard him saying her name.

“Cresswell!”

“Miss Cresswell!”

“Miss Cresswell! Wake up!”

Hermione was startled awake, papers stuck to her face as she jerked awake. She blinked blearily up at Madame Pince who was staring disapprovingly down at her, “I-I’m sorry, Madame Pince. I must’ve lost track of time.”

Pince harrumphed at her, “It would appear so. Head to your rooms, Miss Cresswell, the library is closed.”

Hermione scrambled to grab her things before heading out of the library. She needed to get these dreams sorted out with Severus before she said too much in them and she doomed them all.