Making sure the boy who lives, actually does...

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Chapter 25: Professor Snape is back to the future…
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The swirling mass of color faded as Snape fell to his knees. His stomach lurched after his journey, and he assumed it was because the potion had been growing stale. He stood shakily after a mo, hi, his dark eyes looking around at the foyer.

It was silent now, probably far past curfew and that suited him just fine. He wanted to be alone at the moment, to collect his thoughts and so forth. His shoes echoed against the stone floor, and he pulled to the side of the large room, encasing himself in the shadows should anyone happen along him.

This was a bad idea.

Moving to the familiar trophy case, the large House Cup shone brilliantly in the center of it. Two narrowed eyes moved to read the date on the last inscription. Ten years into the future. He'd done it after all.

"I'm actually here."

It was then that Snape felt his heart pounding painfully fast, as if his inner excitement would somehow leak out into the open. He attributed it all to the fact that he would possibly be seeing Hermione in a matter of moments.

He hadn't really had a solid plan when coming back into the future. He'd merely believed that in arriving back here, it would trigger something in him. Something that would give him an idea of what he should do. He was muddled up, that was for sure. He also wanted to see what Jane looked like, in real life.

He was never really good with children. What made Hermione even think about having children with him in the future? He'd shown no fatherly attributes, aside from severe punishment to wrong doers. What could have brought this on? In truth; How could Miss Granger have fallen in love with him?

Suddenly a sound echoed down the hall, and Snape in a matter of urgent worry suddenly drew his cloak around him as he rushed off behind a large pillar near the far side of the foyer. His eyes drew to the hallways opening as a familiar voice floated out, soon accompanied by two figures he recognized immediately.

The Future Hermione stalked out of the hall's opening, her dark eyes flashing in irritation. Snape gaped a full moment as he looked to her, seeing she appeared much different than when he'd last encountered her. Her dark hair was haphazardly shorn above her shoulders, her body a bit rounder since he'd last seen her and she was wearing the most unflattering robes.

She was though -to Snape's inner delight- wearing a small wedding ring...not exactly the type he could see himself giving to her, but a wedding ring nonetheless. His eyes traveled up her face, seeing the still pursed mouth and fairly lineless face. But it was her eyes that worried him. They seemed quite dimmed.

Suddenly, before he could do anything more from his place in the shadows, a tall figure emitted from the hallway and Snape felt his blood boiling.

Weasley.

It was Weasley looking more and more like his father Arthur. Ten years had done little to improve the boy's already wilting looks. Already a small bald patch was forming at the back of his head, surely due to his hereditity. His body was still lank, his movements still clumsy. Snape's fingertips dug into the pillar he was standing behind, his teeth grinding.

"Not now Ron."

Snape felt his chest tightening the moment she spoke. Watching her was one thing, but actually hearing her voice made the situation all the more real. Snape watched seething, as The Future Weasley stretched out his hand and drew closer to the Future Hermione.

"C'mon luv..." The Future Ron was insisting in a low whine, giving the Future Hermione a tight pinch on the bottom as he followed after her. "If not now, when?"

"I don't know." Hermione said gently, brushing Ron's hand from her bottom quickly. "Another time. I'm just tired and I have classes tomorrow."

"Yeah." Ron said with a sudden frown, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Of course you do."

"Oh don't get like that." Hermione implored softly, looking haggardly to the redhead. "I'm just too tired tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

"Maybe tomorrow." Ron imitated her in a high pitch, giving her a look of irritation. "That's what you always say Hermione, and tomorrow never comes."

Snape was watching aghast at the event unfolding in front of him. What exactly were they doing, or arguing about at this time of night? Where was he? He should be defending Hermione's honor.

"Have you been drinking?"

"And what if I have?" Ron chortled lowly.

"Just go to bed Ron." Hermione said angrily, drawing to the trophy case, her back to Ron. Her shoulders were slumped, and Snape could see the small tears forming at the corners of her eyes. His stomach wobbled.

"Some wife you turned out to be." Ron scoffed rudely, refusing to acknowledge her tears. "I should have left you to become some old spinster."

* * *

Back in the past…or rather, present, Hermione and Ron stood in precisely the same spot they would be ten years from now, waiting for Harry. They had been talking complacently of what was to come, and what their futures would hold...but Ron had become rather distracted at the sight of the House Cup in it's perch in the trophy case. His light eyes reflected in the glass, and Hermione watched absently as her friend practically drooled over it.

"I sure hope we win the House Cup this year." Ron said wistfully, looking to it with adoration as Hermione held in a giggle, recalling the inscriptions of it ten years into the future. If she was correct, they would be winning the house cup this year.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that Ron." She said knowingly as she looked to the case. They were quiet a moment, and in this silence Hermione’s mind went to hours beforehand. Suddenly recalling what had happened earlier on in the day with Snape, fresh tears had sprung into her eyes, and without her knowing, slipped down her warm cheeks.

"What's wrong Hermione?" Ron suddenly inquired, looking to Hermione in sudden panic. Why was she crying? Was it something of the future? Or was it something else? Or someone. His teeth ground together at the knowledge that it was probably precisely whom he was thinking of. The bastard git.

"I was just thinking..." Hermione said softly, tracing her forefinger along the glass of the case, feeling it's smooth texture under her touch, trying desperately not to openly sob. She wiped her face hurriedly, taking a deep breath before turning to her companion.

"What if I'm alone forever, Ron?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm just so certain I’m going to be alone forever." Hermione suddenly said firmly with a small tremble of her lips, her despair taking over all reason. "I'll die alone."

"Why would you say that?" Ron insisted, pulling her into a half embrace, looking embarrassedly around to see if anyone was noticing them. Thankfully no one was. Hermione was sobbing a bit now, burying her face in the crook of Ron's shoulder.

"No one is ever going to want me Ron. I'll die a spinster."

"Now now," Ron hushed, patting her softly on the back. "None of that. Hermione, you're still young...you've got plenty of time to worry about that sort of thing."

"No I don't." Hermione insisted with a small whimper. "The one person I actually loved rejected me. What makes you think it won't happen all over again some other time? With some other man?"

Ron looked to Hermione in utter shock, seeing as she buried her face in his shoulder once more, her tears wetting his neck slightly. It was a shock to see Hermione Granger worried about such a trivial matter.

He attributed it all to her Snape encounter this morning, obviously it had thrown her into hysterics. She wasn't thinking properly. Worst of all, he found he was rather enjoying all this time with her. Holding her like this without her droning on about them just being friends. Time could change things couldn't it? Why wouldn't she want to marry him a while down the road?

His heart jumped at the thought. Hermione as his wife. He'd always been the sort of man who envisioned himself married with a smart, sweet woman like Hermione...perhaps sitting by the fire with children all around them. Would she want children? Probably.

He could make her forget Snape if he had the chance.

"I'll make you a promise." Ron suddenly said with a small smile, trying to coax her out of her rotten mood. "If neither of us are married by the time were twenty eight..we'll marry each other."

Hermione looked up to Ron, slightly amused at his proposition. "Why twenty eight?"

"Seemed like a good number."

She smiled. "Are you quite serious?"

"Am I ever anything but?"

Her tears having now dried up, Hermione relented, gi Ron Ron her hand to shake tentatively. "Mister Weasley," Hermione said with a small smile, shaking his hand emphatically.

"You have yourself a deal."

* * *

Wife? Snape's stomach dropped further and he clutched the pillar for dear life. This was all wrong. She's supposed to be married to me. Snape was seeing red as the Future Ron continued boorishly, looking to the Future Hermione's back.

"Everyone told me you'd never be a proper wife." Ron insisted on telling, "'She'll never settle down and do the cooking.' They said. 'She'll always be off at work or at the Library'. They said. And I didn't believe them. I told them you'd be the perfect wife. You were smart and sweet...but I wasn't counting on one thing..." Ron teased, waiting for a response.

"Ron, please." Hermione pleaded softly, wiping her tears from her face. "Enough now."

"You're horrid in the sack!" Ron finished with amused glee as he began pacing around the foyer in a drunken stupor. "Our wedding night was like some bloody nightmare. It's your fault we don't have any kids you know. Don't you enjoy anything but your bloody books?"

That was the final straw. Snape was about to exit from his hiding place to throttle the bastard Weasley boy -damn the consequences- when all of a sudden the conversation took an unexpected turn for the better.

"Listen here Ronald," Hermione said impassionedly, turning to face him. Her eyes were wild and her entire body was practically shaking. "You want to know why we don't have children? Because I can't stand the thought of having children with you. The thought of actually sharing in creating another human life with you repulses me."

"What did you just say?" Ron inquired lightly, his tone suggesting he had been imagining things. Surely she couldn't be saying the things that she was.

"Why would I want a child to grow up with a father who's a drunken Quidditch instructor?" Hermione continued furiously.

"Now hold on just a minute." Ron said shakily.

"And you want to know why I'm horrid in the sack?" Hermione continued angrily, her face turning red with anger as she ignored his pleas. "Because of you! And do you want to know why Ron?" At this she stopped, letting the full weight of her words smash him.

"I've had much better and you just can't compare."

The Weasley boy was white with fury, his left eye twitching. "You've had better?" he intoned darkly as if the thought was sickly laughable. "Well....I think we all know who you're referring to then. You're long lost love. The man who could NEVER love you back. Is that who? The man who you threw yourself at and didn't reciprocate?"

Snape knew exactly whom he was referring to and he felt his mind whirring. Hermione had fallen silent, her dark eyes on the floor.

"Perhaps you were horrid in the sack with him too." Ron finished smirking, "Poor naive Hermione, the eternal virgin, wishing, praying that someday Professor S-"

"Mister Weasley. Miss Granger."

Snape's dark eyes tore to the other side of the room where another familiar figure was stalking over to the pair. The two of them stopped talking immediately as their gazes locked on the man gliding over to them.

"Good Lord." Snape muttered under his breath, looking to the tall figure. "It's me."

Future Snape was a few feet from Ron and Hermione when he began speaking to them, talking as if they were two students caught out after curfew. Snape watched, seeing that his older self looked undoubtedly haggard. Streaks of white were showing at his temples and his posture was still rigid, though he looked a bit on the thin side. Snape looked to see his aged face, his dark eyes were sorrowful, yet still held that cutting quality.

"I heard quite the commotion from my classroom," Snape said silkily aloof, looking to Ron exclusively. "Quite a disruption for uom aom are trying to do work."

"We're sorry Profes-"

"It's almost midnight." Ron complained boorishly interrupting Hermione, looking to his watch a few times. "I bet you weren't even working you bloody bat...probably just roaming the halls looking for an excuse to be a prick."

"Ron." Hermione warned, her cheeks flushing at his rudeness.

"Perhaps, Mister Weasley..." Future Snape drawled, refusing to call him by his name. "You should retire to your chambers. Miss Granger and I have much to discuss about the classes tomorrow."

They stood facing one another angrily, their eyes locked on one another before Ron shook his head, giving Hermione a disgusted look behind him.

"She's Mrs. Weasley and you know it." Ron fumed. Giving Hermione one last look of fury he made a throaty sound of displeasure and headed back to their chambers refusing to look back at them.

Suddenly they were alone, and Snape still hidden behind the pillar, could feel the tension. There was an open air of uncomfortable silence in which Future Snape merely gazed at Hermione, not speaking and barely moving.

"He's not normally like that." Hermione finally said softly, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks, wanting to make peace. "We just came back from this dinner and he had a bit too much to drink..." she offered a quick smile, "He's always been sort of a lightweight."

"Indeed." Future Snape muttered softly. Again silence enveloped them, and still Snape's eyes didn't move from Hermione's face. Evidently they didn't speak much with one another.

Say something! Snape willed his future self, feeling entirely helpless. He waited for Hermione to leave, to bid his future self goodnight and rush off to her chambers. But she did not. Undoubtedly wanting to postpone seeing Weasley as long as she could. He could see in her eyes she was searching for a reason to talk to him.

"What did you want to speak with me about?" Hermione finally said gently, her eyes resting on Snape's chest. "Is there a problem with the class scheduling?"

"No."

Snape's voice was low, laced with something formidable. Hermione looked up to his eyes, her cheeks turning a violent pink. She was shifting from foot to foot, now rather unsettled as well as on edge.

"Then why did-."

"Why do you stay with him?" Snape interrupted. "He's obviously no good for you."

Hermione was silent a moment, her dark eyes filling with tears. "Because I'm pregnant."

Both Snape's looked alarmed, and confused.

"I thought I overheard-"

"I was lying." Hermione finished in a low voice that wasn't her own. Her spirit and will had been broken. "I can't leave him now...it wouldn't be fair."

There was an awful silence and Snape sincerely believed that his older counterpart was merely going to nod, bid her goodnight and stalk off in his usually brusque fashion. But he did not. He stood surveying the girl, looking to her with sudden compassionate pain.

"You foolish girl." Future Snape whispered lowly, his voice choked for some reason and holding none of its usual harshness. Hermione however didn't see it this way and looked to him defiantly.

"Foolish girl?" She echoed venomously, "Perhaps I am foolish Professor. I fooled myself into thinking you loved me. I fooled myself into thinking that I loved Ron..."

Her words were coming out shaky now, the tears slowly forming in her glassy eyes. "So I suppose you're right Professor. I am just the stupid, bothersome, annoying, foolish little girl you've known and hated for so long."

Future Snape was regarding Future Hermione softly, his eyes losing that harsh look to them as the tears slipped down her cheeks. Evidently she was embarrassed at crying in front of him and went to brush off the torrent of tears cascading down her face, wanting to shy from him.

Without warning however, Future Snape -i obv obviously bold move- had reached out his own hand, his lean fingers coming to rest on her cheek as he gently wiped the tears from her cheek, slowly, inching across her face until it was dry. When the last of her tears were gone, he cupped her cheek with his pale hand, stroking it absently with his thumb.

"I never hated you Hermione."

All the while Future Hermione had been silent, watching him as he went though the movements, not saying anything. Now her eyes became glossy once more, her eyes falling shut slowly as she leaned into his hand. Future Snape was fairly stoic, drinking in her features as she did so. It was as if in that singular moment and sentence he'd said it all.

Snape watched all of this with a heavy heart, his own eyes feeling rather overly moist. Rubbing them absently he watched the two figures in a rather strange sort of embrace.

Slowly Future Snape slid his hand downward as if he were hypnotized, letting his hand rest on the side of her neck lightly. He watched her a moment as finally his face descended down to meet hers. Her eyes were still firmly shut, and when his lips pressed lightly against her own, they flew open in surprise. Yet she did not pull away.

Snape from behind the pillar watched in mute shock, his own stomach doing the strangest of flips. It was strange to watch all of this. Strange to see himself kissing Hermione. Strange and wonderful.

Future Snape's mouth pressed more firmly against Hermione's lips, the kiss deepening as Hermione's warm brown eyes fell shut once more. Slowly her arms came to wrap around her former Professor's shoulders, pulling his lips more tightly against her own.

Future Snape's hands were around her waist then, pulling her into his mouth, allowing the safe trespassing of their tongues to start, tasting one another desperately, their mouths slowly building to a needy rate, their soft sighs of pleasure turning into gentle groans of pleasure. It was as if they were both hungrily coming back to one another when suddenly Hermione pulled away.

"No." she said hoarsely, turning her face to the side. "No this is wrong. I'm married."

Her eyes drew up to Snape's heavy lidded ones, their mouths pursed and pinked from their roughly bestowed kisses. His hands were still around her, and she made no move to run from him. Without a word he pulled her to him, letting her cheeks rest on his chest as he balanced his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes the moment he had.

Hermione was still wrapped in his embrace, her eyes showing the utter confusion she was feeling. Snape wasn't in her mind of course, and he refused to read it at this moment. But he could tell she was torn, wanting to stay with him, but ultimately knowing it could never work.

"I have to go." she finally muttered, extracting herself from Snape's tight embrace. He reluctantly released her, watching as she wiped her eyes once more and prepared to go back to her chambers.

"No." Future Snape suddenly burst firmly, his eyes blinking furiously a moment as he grasped her arm in one fluid movement. She was crying openly herself, listening to him speak. "Don't leave me, Hermione."

Snape knew exactly what he meant by the words, and judging by Hermione's hearenchenching sentiment, she did as well. But he knew in her eyes what the answer was going to be. She turned, seeing the pain in Snape's eyes.

"Why now?" she asked quietly, "Why not ten years ago?"

Snape was silent a moment, his eyes zigzagging all across her face before he answered, his head dropping a bit. "I don't know." His hand dropped from her arm, and she looked to him softly.

"Severus...it's just..." She said, coating his name with the affection she felt so deeply for him. She searched for the words she wanted, but seemed she could find nothing suitable, and instead offered him the only ones she could as he gazed at her.

"...You're ten years too late."
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author's notes: Thanks tons for the reviews, I’m dead chuffed’re ’re enjoying the story so far. Cheers. holden