Envy

Part II of The Seven Deadly Death Eater Tales

by

AnneM 

Part 1 – Regret and Envy

Part II – Deceit and Rain



All Hermione Granger wanted were two weeks away - a fortnight alone, without her friends where she didn’t have to worry about the cares of their world - for a measly two weeks. It might have made her selfish, but if she had asked Harry or Ron, she was certain they’d have agreed that she deserved this time to herself. Everything was changing so fast in their world. Soon, Harry would have an impossible task presented to him, so this might be the last chance she had to do something for herself.

Therefore, Hermione Granger was going away to summer camp. Right before her fifth term ended this past June, Hermione’s Aunt Rose told her about a camp that she found for Hermione (and was offering to pay for), right outside of London. The camp was for gifted students who were interested in literature, arts, and humanities. Just the thought of whetting her literary appetite with something new for two whole weeks made Hermione tingle with excitement. Just the thought of leaving behind trouble and strife for two weeks made her giddy with glee.

She hated leaving Harry and Ron behind … Harry, who had just lost Sirius a week ago, and Ron, who was badly injured (along with Hermione) in a battle with Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. Both battle weary and scarred in their own way. Still, this might be her last chance for normalcy. No one knew what bleak future might await the Wizarding world. For that reason, she would go to her camp, have a splendid time, and never look back.

It was only for two weeks, after all. That was hardly a lifetime.

Kissing her mother and father goodbye at the train station, she traveled alone to the deserted countryside until she reached Camp Donne, named after the seventeenth century poet John Donne. The little camp, set in the woods, was everything she expected it to be and more! Little bungalows littered the hillside. There was a river far off in the distance that supposedly had a waterfall and caves with rock formations. There was a large forest with cavernous ravines and drop-offs. In the copse of trees and buildings, in the circle of the camp, was a watchtower, near the clearing of the woods, near the campfire area.

Hermione was assigned a bungalow by herself and she couldn’t believe her luck. After unpacking, she attended the orientation where everyone was informed that the rules were extremely lax. Classes included all art appreciation, English literature, poetry, American literature, Greek plays, Shakespeare, application of art, Greek history and folklore, and creative writing. She was so excited that she hardly knew which classes she wanted to take! How could she cram the whole itinerary into the two weeks she had here! It would be impossible, but she would try!

The camp had no real structure, and she found that the camp instructors didn’t care if the students flitted from one class to the next, tried one and then another, took as few as one, or as many as six or seven. While Hermione usually thrived on organization, in this instance, she was in summer camp heaven!

After signing up for as many classes as she could, she decided to take a walk, as classes wouldn’t officially start until tomorrow. There was still plenty of daylight left and no curfew. A gentle ran was falling, nothing more than a mist, with bouts of sunshine peeking out around the clouds. She slipped on a white sundress, a pair of sandals, and pulled her long hair back in a plait, because of the humidity. Grabbing a book and her wand, she set off toward the woods in the direction of the river. With each step, she felt a sort of elation, her spirits soaring higher as she traversed the rocky, forest path, her destination: the waterfall.

Continuing onward through the tall, primitive trees, which sheltered her from the mist of rain as well as from the sun and humidity, she followed a path along the stream, and listened for the sound of the roaring waterfall nearby. When she first heard it, it was almost as if it was calling out her name. She started walking faster toward the ‘voice’, feeling almost compelled to answer its call. When she reached the edge of the water, which was so blue it sparkled like sapphires, she removed the plait from her hair to let the now present sun soak into the long, brown strands.


That was when she knew the waterfall was close by. The water of the river circled around twigs, rocks, and reeds. Truly, a kinship was felt between Hermione and this place, almost the same feeling she felt when she discovered magic for the first time. She felt unequivocal exhilaration when the roar of the waterfall became louder. Like a child who could not contain her joy, she began to run along the pebbled path, lined with hollyhocks, laurel, foxglove, and flowers of undetermined origin. She felt the spray of water before she saw the giant, glorious waterfall before her. When she was close enough for the spray of the water to touch her face like kisses, she laughed out loud.

Hermione pursued the trail as it weaved its way along the stream to the waterfall. She walked down a rocky embankment, over a fallen tree, and onto a large boulder and suddenly there it was – in splendid detail - the magnificent waterfall. Massive, beautiful, bright, she was shocked at its magnitude.

The water frothed as it bounced off rocks. Holding onto high weeds on the embankment, she slipped on the muddy bank, the soles of her sandals having no traction, but she knew she had to get closer. The sounds of the waterfall muted every other sound in the forest. Her destination was clear - she had to go TO the waterfall.

She had no choice.

Stepping onto the rocks, the water splashed around her knees and the spray of the falls curtained her whole body as if she were showering. Walking upon the slippery, wet rocks, she found that she could slip right underneath the spray of water. Something forced her to continue her jaunt. Something told her she was seeing something that few had seldom seen. She felt almost as if she were suffocating on something unknown. Somehow, she reached the other side unscathed, so she dropped her book, slipped off her sandals, and even dropped her wand.

On the other side of the waterfall, she suddenly felt lightheaded, wearier than she had felt all day. She hadn’t been walking that long, the jaunt hadn’t been too strenuous, the golden sun hadn’t been too warm, the rain hadn’t been too taxing, so why was she so overwhelmingly tired?

Sweat beaded on her brow, curling her hair, sticking to her dress. Her fingers fumbled for the zipper of her dress. Pulling it downward, she let it pool around her feet, and without another thought she jumped into the liquid blue stream near the mouth of the waterfall, and she slipped under the water.



Severus saw the girl jump into the water, but the thing was, he didn’t know where she had come from. She wasn’t here a moment ago. He was sitting by the river, cataloging the plants he had just procured, when suddenly she appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t think she had Apparated, because he hadn’t heard the distinct ‘pop’ that was associated with Apparition, but still, she had to be a witch, because he had too many wards up for a measly Muggle to be able to merely walk into this area.

He ran over to the bank where he saw her dress, (goodness, did the girl have NO morals at all?), a book, her shoes, and A WAND! She was a witch. He waited for her head to pop back up out of the water, so she could explain to him just how she had breached his wards, and so he could give her a piece of his mind. And he waited. And waited. And waited.

His gaze lingered on the place where she had jumped in, though the water was now completely still. He looked back along the opposite shore, and toward the boulders and the waterfall. Was she alone? Had she wandered away from her family, or a boyfriend?

How long could she hold her breath? Was she in trouble? Was she drowning? Severus quickly glanced back up toward the treetops as the sun painted them gold and yellow. He looked back at her discarded clothes, and then back at the place where she had jumped. The water was so still. Could she swim? He saw her when she jumped in, and she seemed to be about his age, 16 or 17, so surely she could swim…except, well, he couldn’t swim, could he?

The enormity of his predicament weighed heavy on him. Toss it all, he was going to have to save the bloody girl! He threw off his robes, kicked off his shoes, grabbed his wand and jumped into the water to save her.

Part III – Magic and Belief



The water was freezing cold, even in the middle of summer. The current of the waterfall beat down upon the water with just enough force to keep Hermione’s head under. She felt as if someone was hitting at her arms and legs, beating on them with a throbbing cadence. She knew how to swim, but for some reason she could do little more than let the power of the water take control of her body and force her under.

She felt the rocks and mud of the river’s floor under her feet and panicked. Her chest felt as if it was going to explode any moment, yet still she didn’t fight for her life. She had been fighting for her life since she was twelve years old, yet for some reason she was giving up and letting this water claim her life without so much as the slightest, feeblest resistance.

Thinking of her mother, father, and friends, the enormity of her plight weighed heavily upon her, as heavily as the water that anchored her to the muddy floor, and as heavy as the water that began to fill her lungs. She was deep in darkness, all alone, and she was going to die.

Tired, afraid, unable to fight, she was about to give up, closing her eyes to the last wavy rays of sunlight that danced upon the top of the water, when she felt someone claiming her life for her. A hand reached for her hair first, pulling on it hard, then for an arm, and then finally a pair of arms hankered around her waist, circling tight, pulling her upward easily, away from the mud and darkness, away from the fear and death, toward the air and sunlight above.

A man had hold of her. He pulled her to the top of the water, where they both floated for a moment. He seemed to struggle in the water, almost as if he couldn’t swim, so she knew not to struggle within his grasp. She wanted to offer him words of encouragement, but she was besieged with the urge to breath, her eyes barely opened, her chest still tight, choking and gasping for air, yet aware she had on only a thin cotton pair of knickers and bra.

Once he was able to get them to the embankment, he placed her on the grassy shore. Nude at the waist, in a pair of wet jeans, long dark hair sprinkling her face with water, he looked down upon her, his chest going up and down as he took in deep gulps of air. His hands on her shoulders, he looked at her with concern as he asked, “Are you mad?”

Still unable to breathe, let alone answer his insane question, she lay quietly. He pulled a wand from his wet pocket, performed a spell on her that she had never heard before, and suddenly it was as if someone had pulled all the water out of her lungs. In the process, she still had no air in them, so she gasped, and fear made her turn over to her side, her chest heaving profoundly.

He placed another reassuring hand on her shoulder and said in a gentler voice than before, “Easy now, take slow breaths, in and out, in and out.”

She closed her eyes and did as he commanded, breathing slowly, in and out. She tried to sort through everything that just occurred. She walked under a waterfall, then for some odd reason, she walked right into a river, didn’t even try to save herself, even though she knew how to swim. Thank goodness, this man, really, a boy no older than she, was there to save her. Furthermore, thank goodness he was a wizard.

She sat up and the first thing she saw was that her clothing, wand, and shoes were nearby. He looked quickly over his shoulders and saw them as well. “Yes, I know you’re a witch,” he said in haste. “What I don’t know is what in the world you’re doing here. How did you get here? This place is highly protected.”

Standing up, he shook his shaggy hair and then bent down to throw her dress to her. She caught it, but couldn’t help but stare up at him. Who was this boy? He seemed so familiar, yet she knew he didn’t go to her school.

“You’re a wizard?” she asked.

“I did use a wand to save your life, so excellent deduction skills. Ten points for the witch with the suicide wish,” he snarled, bending down again to pick up her wand. “And you’re a witch, so ten points more to me.” He threw her wand to her.

Her mind reeled in confusion at his words. No. It couldn’t be, but it had to be. The exact precision of his voice, his familiar demeanor and expression, his clipped tones, the way he said, ‘ten points for the witch, etc, etc’. She closed her eyes again and finally said, “I must be dreaming. This is all a dream, or a hallucination.”

“What are you going on and on about, witch?” he asked.

She tried to get up, but he was quick to get back down to his knees beside her, and he forced her back to her bottom. “Stay down. You almost drowned, for goodness sakes, and besides, you seem partially demented.”

“You don’t understand, there’s something terribly, terribly wrong here,” she began. “I, I have something very difficult to ask you. May I ask you a question?”

He rolled his eyes. “What?”

“What’s your name?”

“Oh, yes, that’s such a difficult thing to answer,” he said sarcastically. “Tell me your name first, and how you came to breach my wards. No one should even know of this place. It’s highly magical.”

“Fine,” she said, coming up on her knees beside him, and placing her dress over her trembling body in the process. She noticed that he watched her intently as she placed her dress over her shivering frame, and she knew she blushed, as did he for some reason. Once the dress was over her, she sat back down, crossed her legs, and said, “Of course you know I’m a witch. My name’s Hermione Granger, and I’m on summer holiday from Hogwarts, and I’m staying at the Muggle camp, Camp Donne, beyond the woods. I took a hike, and felt compelled to follow the path to the waterfall.”

“Compelled?” he echoed. “As in, you really wanted to see the waterfall, or actually compelled, as in someone used the Imperius on you?”

She was quiet for a moment and said, “Now that you mention it, I felt an actual compulsion. I HAD to find the waterfall, and once I did, I couldn’t help myself, I had to walk underneath it.”

“You didn’t walk under the waterfall,” he scoffed.

“I most certainly did,” she argued.

He looked back over toward the raging waterfall. “You would have died. So far, your story has no credence, and has more holes in it than a sieve. For one thing, there is no Muggle camp beyond the woods. If there were, I’d know about it. I’ve spent the last three summers near here at a potion’s camp, because I want to be a Potion’s Master someday, and believe me, there’s no Muggle camp called, Camp Dunne, near here.”

“I said ‘Camp Donne’, named after the English Poet, John Donne, 1572 to 1631, the father of Metaphysical poetry, who coined the phrase, ‘For whom the bells tolls’, although people always gets that wrong and credits it to…”

He interrupted her with, “Miss Granger?”

“Yes?”

“Do shut up.” He stood up and said, “Now, where was I? Oh yes ...” He began only to stop as he looked back down at her. She suddenly scooted far away from him, her hand over her mouth, and her eyes opened wide, full of fear. “What’s wrong with you now, you crazy girl?”

“You told me to shut up!” She stood up and pointed her wand at him.

He pointed his wand right back at her. “Well, you were droning on and on, like some know-it-all, when I was talking. I was trying to prove my point about why I knew you were lying, but you were trying to prove how smart you were, instead. I know who John Donne was, I just misheard you before, that’s all, so there was no reason for you to tell me his biography!”

“But … but … What’s your name!” she yelled, her wand still pointing steady at him.

“I’ll tell you in a moment after I finish telling you why I know you’re lying!” he maintained. “And put that wand down before you hurt someone. You probably don’t even know how to use that thing. Where did you find it? You can’t be a witch, as I was about to say, because you look to be around my age, but I know you don’t go to Hogwarts, because I’d see you there, if you did.”

“Something tells me you do see me there,” she said more to herself than to him.

“What?” he asked.

“Please, what’s your name?” she almost moaned.

“In a moment. I have a point to make,” he persevered. “I was also going to say that you couldn’t know magic or you’d have saved yourself.”

“But I didn’t have my wand!” she whined.

“Stupid thing on your part, wouldn’t you say? If you were a witch, surely you wouldn’t have gone into the water without it, COMPELLED or not,” he snapped, holding his wand out toward her. She stepped away from him and accidentally stepped upon a batch of small flowers. His hands went out toward her and he yelled, “Stop it, you’re smashing all the specimens that I collected this morning, you stupid girl!”

“Stop calling me stupid!” she hissed, but he paid her no mind. He reached out, took her wand in his free hand and pushed her aside. Holding both her wand and his in his right hand, he knelt down to the small heap of weeds and flowers on the ground, and under his breath said, “If that stupid Muggle ruined my whole day’s work, she’ll wished I had let her drowned.” Standing back up, he turned to face her and asked, “Now, let’s start with the basics, if that’s not too hard for your simple brain. What’s your REAL name, how did you get here, and who gave you this wand?”

Hermione stomped her foot in frustration and insisted, “Apparently, you were always like this, weren’t you, Severus Snape?”

He looked so geniuely taken aback that she knew his name that she almost felt badly for shocking him like that. Then she rushed up to him, pointed her finger hard into his chest and said, “Listen here, you overgrown troll, my name really is Hermione Granger, as if I’d make something like that up. It’s the summer of 1996! I’m a witch! You’re a wizard. Your name is Severus Snape, as if you’d make something like THAT up! I don’t know what year it is in your time, but I gather it’s much earlier to you, probably in the 1970’s! I think that waterfall is some sort of time-travel portal, and I gather I was drawn to it because of a vial of potion that you and I both drank right before school ended in June.”

His eyes were still wide with wonder, so she continued, her finger still poking his bare chest.

“You ARE a Potion Master in my time, a pompous arse one, at that. I am staying at a Muggle Camp called Camp Donne, and I did walk under a waterfall, which I did feel compelled to follow, and most importantly, and you’d better never forget this one, I AM NOT STUPID!”

Then she took both their wands in her hand and using her wand, pointed it at a nearby bush, and blew it to a hundred tiny bits.

Hermione threw his wand to the ground and said, “You told me if I took the potion I made from page 254, the Invidia Encontra potion, it would wipe away some feeling of envy that I felt, but the only thing I feel right now is extreme and utter anger, so thanks a whole lot, Professor Snape!”

She huffed away in frustration, and once she was back over near the waterfall, she tried to Disapparate away, but she couldn’t. Then she started to walk back on the rocks, to walk back underneath it, toward the other side of the shore, but she felt an arm snake around her middle, pulling her back, pulling her close to him.

Out of breath, from her tirade and frustration, she pushed the arm away from her, turning to face the only person it could be. “What do you want?” she asked.

“Are you going to try to kill yourself again?” he asked with as much snarl as he could.

“I’m going to try to get back to camp!” she huffed.

“Oh, to 1996 you mean?” He laughed at that.

She pushed him, because she felt like it, and because he was getting on her last nerve. Nevertheless, apparently she pushed him a bit too hard, because they were standing too close to the edge of the waterfall, so he slipped on the rocks, and fell right into the water.

He bobbed under and then back up, then he held onto a rock. “You stupid girl! Help me back up.”

“I’m not saving you!” she declared.

“I saved you!” he argued.

“That’s your problem,” she pointed out. “Now, why can’t I Disapparate away from here?”

“As if I would tell you even if I knew! Are you seriously going to leave me hanging onto a rock, with the current beating down on me, and the waterfall ready to crash upon me, knowing I can’t swim, and knowing that my wand is on the shore, when I risked my life to save you?” he shouted over the roar of the water.

She stared at him and said, “Maybe I saved your life the first time I lived this time, and it was my biggest regret or something, and the potion I drank was meant to bring me back to this time, to make me relive it, so I could NOT save you this time. Have a nice time drowning!”

“You stupid girl, that potion doesn’t work like that!” he bellowed. “If there’s one thing you’re most envious of, or one thing you’re most desirous of, that someone else has, it stops that feeling, and means that you no longer feel lacking of it, or deprived of it, because it’s replaced with something else!”

“Talk about droning on and on, trying to sound like a know-it-all!” she seethed, adding, “And STOP CALLING ME STUPID!” She took her wand and pointed it at him, but instead of saving him, he sunk to the bottom like a rock. She would wait a few moments and then she would save him.

Really, she would.

Part IV – Truth and Smiles

With a weary sigh, Hermione waited for the young Severus Snape to reappear above the water’s surface. While she waited, she grasped for understanding of what was happening to her. She was either having a delusional dream, brought on by a head injury from her near drowning, and none of this was real, or else the waterfall really was a portal to another time, and she was drawn to it because of her potion.

On the other hand, there could be a third reason. She might have died and gone to hell.

No - she wasn’t that bad of a person - so she probably wouldn’t go to hell if she died, so she probably didn’t drown.

“What are you doing, you little fool?” the young Severus asked with a deep breath, clutching the side of the bank with his hands, holding onto rocks and reeds for dear life.

“I’m pondering the existence of heaven and hell,” Hermione said with a smile, while gazing down upon his face. She knew he’d pop back up eventually. Goodness, this was real. This was really a young Severus Snape before her. Holding out her hand, she offered it to him, but he only sneered at her and pulled himself out of the water with what remained of his strength.

Stumbling to the ground, he began to breathe rapidly, taking in deep gulps of air. Finally, he mumbled, “The stupid, little deranged girl was going to let me drown.”

Hermione bent at the waist and peered down at his face. With a controlled voice she said, “This is the last time I’ll say this, but you really must stop calling me stupid. And I swear I wouldn’t have let you drown.”

He turned over on his back, his arms flopping to his sides. Staring up at the bright sunshine he said, “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” she asked, suddenly amused. He only continued to stare up at her.

“Fine. I’ll try to explain. When you were an adult, you drank a potion I made, causing all of this to happen, that’s what you did to deserve this,” she relayed, plopping down on her knees beside him on the wet ground by the river’s edge. “Now, do you want me to try to explain to you my theory as to HOW this is happening?”

With sarcasm and scorn he said, “Please, do, I’m waiting anxiously.” Turning to his side, he placed an arm under his head and waited.

She began to explain. Starting with the fact that she was from 1996 and that she went to Hogwarts, she repeated to him that last term, she made a potion called ‘Invidia Encontra’, and according to her Potion’s book, the potion was supposed to take away a person’s biggest cause of envy or regret. She thought she did something wrong with it, because it turned out the wrong color, but that didn’t stop her Potion’s professor, (which would be him) from drinking some. Suddenly afterwards, he began to ask her if she believed in fate, and destiny, and then he asked her what she knew about parallel times.

Oh, and he told her to shut up when she prattled on and on, trying to show how much she knew.

She told the young man that she drank the potion the same day, recalling it was a rainy afternoon, but nothing really happened to her at the time. She forgot about it completely until this very moment.

She concluded with, “All of this must be related to the fact that we both drank that potion. You drank it, and of course, the events of this summer, whatever they might have been, were already apparent to you as an adult Severus. I drank it, and the events have yet to happen for me. I still believe the waterfall has to be a conduit, or a time portal of sorts. I haven’t reasoned it out yet, but I will.”

He stared at her, and then he looked at his watch. “Do you realize that you’ve been talking for fifty-two minutes straight? I’m not even certain you took a breath in between words.”

Folding her arms in front of her chest, she stared at him with her best haughty glare.

“I mean, my hair’s dry, and my jeans are almost dry, and I didn’t even use a drying spell on them,” he continued. “I just waited until you were done with your exceptionally long speech. You literally went on and on and on and on.” He made a funny motion with one hand.

She stood up and looked down at him with her mouth a tight line, her eyes blazing.

He stood up. “And you didn’t even ask me what I thought. You didn’t ask me if I believed you, or if I thought your theory had merit, or if I had a theory on the matter. No, you just kept talking as if it were the unmitigated truth. Frankly, I still doubt that you’re even a witch. You probably know someone who’s a witch or wizard, and you’ve made up this wild story, but I won’t have it. You’re interfering with my experiments, and I won’t have it. I mean, of all the gall ….”

He got no further. She pushed him back into the water and then she ran for the waterfall’s edge. She didn’t care if any of this was true or not. She didn’t like Severus Snape in 1996, and she didn’t like him now, whatever year it was.

Assessing the best way to get across the underside of the falls, she stood at the edge of the river, when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and saw an angry, (though still young) Severus Snape approaching.

“Why you stupid, little, interfering female!” he goaded, reaching for her.

With a flick of her wand, she cast a silent spell toward him. She not only disarmed him of his wand, but she threw him up in the air, where he then landed on the ground with a thump. Once again, he found himself staring up into the bright sunshine, taking shallow breaths, all of the air knocked from his lungs.

Her face appeared above him, her long brown, curly hair like a curtain, framing her face. It dawned on him that she was very pretty, even if she was demented. She had long eyelashes that framed lovely, brown eyes with gold flecks. There were a splattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, with a stray one or two on her chin and forehead. Still, her hair caught his attention the most. It was wild and long and framed her face with a halo of bronze fire, as streaks of the afternoon sun played in the background.

With a smile, she calmly said, “I warned you not to call me stupid again, didn’t I? I won’t take further retribution, seeing how you’re already on the ground, but don’t say I didn’t warn you in the future. Furthermore, I hope that convinced you that I’m truly a witch. Now, goodbye and good riddance. I don’t know what source of envy this potion was supposed to wash away for me, but all it’s done so far is irritate me, like a bad rash.”

Severus got up slowly, every bone and muscle in his body protesting as he did. He watched as she walked back over to the waterfall. She stared at the roaring water, pointed her wand at it, said a spell, and the water finally parted. She walked right through, on top of the rocks, but before she disappeared, she turned back and looked at him.

She looked sad for some reason, yet resigned.

What did she expect? Her story was preposterous! Her explanation made no sense. The story of a future HIM taking a potion that drew her to his time was… well… unwarranted. That simply wasn’t the way that potion worked! Severus should know. He was going to be a Potion Master some day! He went back over to his specimens, some of them crushed from her trampling on them, and he started working again. Still, his mind began to wander to the small, pretty girl with the curly brown hair and bright, brown eyes.

While she was telling him her story, she fascinated him. She was so animated. Her eyes lit up, and her arms moved all around. She bounced with excitement. The truth was, he didn’t want to interrupt her, because he liked watching her speak.

She seemed brave, and fearless. She was probably a bloody Gryffindor, Merlin help him!

Sitting back by his cauldron, Severus thought of how she felt in his arms when he was in the water with her. She was small, but well proportioned. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss her – not that he would want to - for anyone could see she was delusional and a hellion as well. Moreover, he didn’t even like her. Not one bit.

And frankly, she wasn’t that pretty, was she? Not nearly as pretty as Lily. Well, maybe she was as pretty as she was, but not as sweet, and probably not as kind.

Funny, he hadn’t thought of Lily since the wild girl jumped into the river. How odd. He started the day thinking of nothing but her, but then this ‘Hermione’ girl showed up and he forgot all about Lily.

How could he forget about his Lily?

Severus pulled his shirt over his bare chest and slipped his shoes on his feet. Gathering his belongings, he decided it was time to go for the day. He was too distracted to continue. He’d come back tomorrow, and hope that this girl never showed her face again.

Instead of waiting for the next day, Severus went back to his special spot by the side of the river that night. The waterfall was especially loud, as it had rained earlier that evening. It was already late, almost twilight, the sky a deep lavender, bleeding into a royal blue colour. Looking around, he told himself that he came back solely for the purpose of collecting some Deadly Nightshade, because it only came out after dark.

He didn’t come back because he hoped the girl would be here. He didn’t.

He looked over to the spot by the water where the girl was earlier. He thought of her all the rest of the day. He took a nap after dinner and woke up with an erection, caused by dreaming of her. How absurd. Sighing, he strolled over to the waterfall and lifted his wand arm, as if he was compelled, (wasn’t that the word the girl had used?) and he parted the waterfall, like a curtain, just as she had.

The water parted.

What would happen if he walked through? Would he be in the future, in her time? How silly. How stupid. Of course not. He lowered his wand and the water came back together in a sudden rush. He turned to walk back over to the clearing, and that was when he saw her.

She was standing there on the hillside, on his side of the river. She offered him a most spectacular view, with the setting sun over the hillside, the elongated shadows from the setting sun causing her hair and skin to glow orange and deep russet yellow. A sudden gust of wind blew that hair over her face, and she lifted her hand to remove it.

Calling down to him, she said, “I came back after dinner tonight, to apologize, but you weren’t here.”

He remained silent.

“So I took a walk up over that hillside. I needed to think about some things.”

Still, he remained passionately silent.

She smiled and revealed, “Secretly I think I was trying to find your camp, but I found that I couldn’t leave this little clearing. It must have something to do with the magic of the potion, or the waterfall, or something.”

More silence from Severus.

“I won’t impede on your solitude any longer,” she continued, “I only waited in case you returned, and I know you don’t believe me, but I swear, everything I told you was the truth. I came back tonight to leave you a note, but now that you’re here, I can just tell you instead.” She walked down to the bottom of the hill, as he crossed over to the edge of the water.

Still, he didn’t say a word.

“I’ll leave now,” she finished. “Goodbye, Severus. I hope someday I come to find out why this happened. Perhaps when I get back to school, in my time, the adult you will be able to explain it to me, but I doubt it. You’ve never really liked me.” She turned to go.

He called out, “Then I’m a fool.” He winced. He finally spoke and all he could say was, ‘then I’m a fool’? He was a damn fool.

Hermione stepped around the side of the riverbed, where there was a small footbridge. Placing one hesitant foot upon the weathered, brown boards, she stepped down and walked across it until she stood in the middle. The last shaft of sunlight from the day seemed to shine right down upon her.

The wind blew again, fanning her white dress around her legs. Severus walked to the bridge, meeting her in the middle, aware that the girl expelled a soft, whispering breath as he came near. He offered, “Seriously, I’m sorry for not believing you. There’s no other explanation. You have to be telling the truth.”

She swallowed, the action forcing him to look at her neck, then back up to her face. She didn’t respond.

He found himself reaching for her, his hand going to her arm, his fingers skimming down her soft skin until his hand held hers. She shivered. He closed his eyes and inhaled. She smelled like jasmine. He loved the smell of jasmine. “And I hope we’ll find out why this is happening… together.”

She still didn’t say a word to his response. Instead, she reached a hand up and placed it on his chest. He found it hard to breathe again, and this time it wasn’t because he was drowning or because he was knocked on his arse, but because she was near.

Deciding he had nothing else to lose, he finished with, “And I think you’re very pretty.”

Finally, she spoke. “Thank you. I think you’re pretty, too.”

He laughed at that. Maybe he still thought she was a bit delusional.

Part V – Here and Now




The next day, Hermione attended classes and lectures in the morning at Camp Donne, and she also went back through the waterfall as soon as she had a free period. Arriving in the clearing, there was no sign of a young Severus Snape. Hermione had no clue if he would ever reappear, and she knew she couldn’t leave the confines of this magical area near the waterfall, the hillside and the small woods, so she couldn’t find him. Still, she was curious and intrigued about him…about the magic of waterfall…about the potion she took, and how it might influence her.

Oh how she wished he would appear! She needed to know why this was happening. Although the young Severus didn’t seem to know why it was happening any better than she did. He didn’t even seem to believe her. He didn’t even seem to like her any better than the older Snape liked her. That thought gave her a heavy feeling in the middle of her chest.

She had an hour before lunch, so she decided to collect some specimens for Snape. She knew that some of the flowers and plants that he collected yesterday were ruined by her (and him) so perhaps if she found some more for him and placed them near the rocky area where she first found him working, he would appear later and at least know she had been here.

For thirty minutes she collected wildflowers and rare plants, putting them in the billow of her dress as she pulled up the hem to make a makeshift carrier. She had worn the same white dress because it was the only dress she had brought, and because for some odd reason she wanted to look pretty for him.

With the tall elm, oak and fir trees casting shadows all around her, and the only sounds coming from the waterfall and the hum of insects buzzing around her, she worked in otherwise steady silence, taking the plants for his potions to the flat rocky area where he had his cauldron the other day, then walking back toward the woods.

Reaching the wooded area for the fourth time, hands empty but dirty, sweat upon her brow, breath slightly laboured, she stopped when she thought she spied someone by one of the tall trees. Shaking her head and closing her eyes for a moment, she stepped closer and looked again, but the person she thought she saw was gone. It must have been a shadow.

She bent down, reached out a hand to pick out an especially rare plant needed in potion making when she saw the light that was on the plant flicker away, replaced by shadow. She raised her head, gasped, and fell back on her backside, holding in the cry of terror that almost rose up in her throat.

It was he. It was the young Severus Snape. He had returned.

She sat up, realizing she was staring at him, but then again, he was staring at her as well. Then to her surprise, he leaned down and snatched up the rare plant that she was about to pick a moment before. “I’ve been looking for this for days,” he said softly.

As he spoke her fear ebbed away, and it was replaced with something else, although she wasn’t sure what that was. He asked, “Why did you come back?”

“I wanted to collect the specimens that I ruined for you,” she said, although that wasn’t the only reason. “I didn’t think I’d see you. I really should get back to camp. It’s time for lunch.”

“Will they miss you?” His words were quiet, but well spoken, yet he looked at the ground instead of at her face. “Because if not, I brought enough lunch that you can share mine,” he looked up, “if you want.”

Then without warning he reached down and took her hand and pulled her up. Keeping her hand in his, they walked toward the clearing, toward the river and waterfall.

That first day they ate lunch together but didn’t talk about the potion, the waterfall’s magic, why she was here, why she knew so much about him, or anything like that. Instead they ate and talked about his interest in potion making, and her interest in Muggle literature and poetry. He asked her a little about her friends and family, and she did the same.

By the time lunch was over she felt full but happy. She also felt tied up in knots, her emotions knotted and tied tightly around her, and despite the fact that it had been a good afternoon, she felt weary and slightly sad for some reason. Why wasn’t the potion working the way it was supposed to work? What envious thing, or regret, was supposed to be lifted from her? She would truly like to know, and she would like to ask this young man, but she dare not ruin the tentative friendship that they had started this afternoon.

For she noticed how he studied her when she talked, his gaze spanning her face, her body, then back again. They sat so close their shoulders and arms sometimes touched, and when he would talk, she was taken aback by the deep timbre of his voice. When he talked of his passion for potion making, and then about his unhappy home life, she found her heart going out for him, and several times she wanted to reach out and touch him, but she dare not.

.

Severus spied her while he was hiding in the woods. She was prettier than he first thought yesterday, and he thought she was very pretty yesterday. She seemed to be collecting plants and flowers and other specimens that he had collected (and she had ruined) yesterday. That was unnecessary. Yet – that was rather nice of her. He wasn’t used to people being nice to him.

From his space behind the tree he continued to watch the girl and he realized that she had to be telling the truth about the potion and how she knew him. However, that didn’t mean that he was going to ask her any questions about the future. He knew how dangerous things like that could be. No, it would be better if they merely dealt with the here and now.

Nevertheless, why was she here? Was it truly to make him forget his biggest regret, or to stop feeling the deep-seated feeling of envy that he felt every day in of his life? Not just regarding the fact that Lily Evans didn’t love him, but also because his home life wasn’t what he wanted, he didn’t have as much money as most of the other Slytherins, or the fact that even though he was smart and did well in school, most of the students made fun of him or teased him.

How could one little slip of a girl from the future do all of that?

Finally he decided to show himself to her. He asked her to stay and share his lunch. He figured she would say no, but to his surprise she said yes. He pulled her to her feet and kept her hand in his until they made their way to the area near the riverbed. Neither of them remarked on the action, although he felt odd, yet empowered by it.

They ate in silence at first, but then she started talking about her parents and her friends and her passion for Muggle literature and how much fun she was going to have at camp during the next two weeks.

Severus felt calmer and more relaxed, so he began to talk about his passion for potion making. He told her a little bit about his family… not much, just the basics, pureblood mother, no siblings, etc, etc.

He realized that she seemed to be staring at him a lot during lunch. He felt guarded and uneasy, hot and bothered. He stared at her too, but it was because he wasn’t used to being this close to such a pretty girl, especially a pretty girl who seemed so intelligent. There was always Lily, but they weren’t really friends any longer. Funny, that was first time he thought of Lily all day.

When they finished lunch, he rose from the ground first and found that a bit clumsily he reached down his hand just as he had earlier in the woods, and took hers to help her from the ground. It was as if he didn’t give her a choice. She smiled at him as he helped her to stand. That smile was disarming. It turned his insides to jam.

He asked her if she wanted to see the top of the waterfall and she nodded. Keeping her hand in his, they started the climb up the hill toward the top of the cliff. He stayed in the front of the trail, holding her hand, her in the rear. She nearly slipped once on the wet rocks. He quickly turned and wrapped both arms around her and said, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she said, breathlessly.

Merlin, but he wanted to kiss her right there and then, but he didn’t. Turning, her hand in his once more, they continued their trek up to the top of the cliffs, and not once did he think of the fact that she was supposedly from the future. The whole world faded away from him - colourless, meaningless - because he had her near. Right now was all that mattered. Holding her hand was all that mattered. The present was all that mattered. The rest of it was empty and gone… the present was here and it was almost more than he could bear.

Finally they reached the top, and the sky was crystal blue, the sun bright, the water falling over the limestone and flat earth, falling away to nothingness. Severus took his free hand and held it up to his eyes and looked out at world before them. Was this his world or hers? Perhaps it was theirs.

She gasped, not in fear, but in awe, and she pulled her hand from his grasp to look out at the scenery before her. She said, “It’s so beautiful up here. It’s as if we’re at the top of the world. It’s as if there’s nothing else but this. Nothing else matters.”

He stared at her, shocked that she was thinking the same thing as him. He thought SHE was beautiful. She stepped closer to the edge of the large cliff where they stood and he automatically reached out his arm and snaked it around her waist. Standing behind her, with his warm breath upon her cheek, he said, “I was just wondering if this part of the forest, the valley, the other mountain over there, the cliff, the sky, is part of my world or yours.”

She didn’t answer. Looking upon her face he saw that she had closed her eyes. He wanted to kiss her, so he turned her in his arms, kept one arm around her waist, and brought his other hand up to her face to cup her cheek. With that she opened her eyes and stared at him.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” she said softly.

“I don’t either,” he confessed, his fingers drifting down her cheek to her neck, only to come back up to frame her face once more.

With her arms around his neck, she admitted, “In my time I don’t like you at all.”

He laughed and said, “I can see that. I’m not that likeable.”

“Also, I really want to know why this is happening, and how it’s happening, but right now, I don’t care, and that’s unusual for me, too,” she explained, placing her head in the crook between his throat and his chest.

He embraced her tightly, then one of his hands moved up and down her spine while they other one tangled in her hair. He felt as if he was anchoring her not only to the cliff, but also to him. The sun faded away and a steady rain started to fall. He knew they should start back down the cliff, because it would be trickier in the rain, but he didn’t want to lose this moment.

“This isn’t like me either,” he told her, whispering right in her ear, “but I’m not sure any of that matters. Maybe that’s the reason for the potion. Perhaps we aren’t to question it. Perhaps we should just enjoy the time we have together.”

She looked up at him, blinking away raindrops as they splattered on her eyes, cheeks and nose. He could wait no longer, so he bent his head, placed his lips on her. He thought she held her breath, and he knew she shivered just as a giant raindrop landed on his nose and dropped down to hers.

His lips met hers. There was a sweet awe when their lips first met. He brushed his lips against hers softly, then more demanding, and his hands moved, her hands moved, and he pulled her closer. Their tongues, pulses, heartbeats, and bodies met in a calamitous rhythm that was foreign to Severus, yet reverent and right.

He made a hoarse noise in the back of his throat, then moaned, trying to pull her closer, even though she was as close as a person could be without being a part of another person. Pleasure burned in every cell and ion in his body. He clutched her face, pulled away, looked at her swollen lips, her surprised eyes, and then placed his mouth back upon hers to kiss her again.

Neither noticed that the short rain shower had stopped when they finally pulled away from each other. However, they stopped kissing, smiled at the same time, and then walked in silence down the same path, now muddy and slick, back to the woods and then to the clearing near the lake and the waterfall. The entire time he held her hand and thought of nothing but that kiss.

When they reached the glade he dropped her hand. She looked up at the sky and said, “It must be almost dinner time now. I really have to go. I missed all of the afternoon lectures and activities.”

“Will you come back tonight?” he asked.

She shook her head no.

He felt a terrible pang of regret deep in his chest, but then she said, “But I’ll be back tomorrow, around lunch time. I’ll bring the lunch this time. See you then!” Then she reached up, gave him a short and chaste kiss on his lips and she ran back toward the portal through the waterfall.

And he still felt the terrible feeling of regret and envy of her leaving. Surely this wasn’t the reason she came… so he could feel terrible every time she left? Tonight he would look into the potion that both supposedly took and he would find out the purported cause and effect of the potion. He would also see if there was an antidote to the potion - just incase they needed to take it - not that he thought that they would.

Part VI – Remembering and Forgetting

Each morning after Hermione woke she would dress and then walk through the woods, find the path to the waterfall, cross over to the other side, with a single mission in mind. To find him, to find Severus Snape.

Everyday she found herself here on the other side with him, spending time with him. Sometimes she would help him collect ‘his specimens’ and sometimes they would merely talk and argue about magic and theories. Sometimes she spent only an hour or two with him; sometimes she spent the majority of her day here. She came to Camp Donne this summer to learn, have freedom from the fear of impending war, and to find herself. Yet instead, in the two weeks that she had been here she found him.

Something strange was happening to Hermione. For the first time in her young life, she felt a sort of awareness, an awakening. It was almost as if every molecule of her body was being rearranged and then put back together again. And it was all because last spring she decided to make a potion that no one else made, and then she walked through a waterfall. It was as her Professor, the elder Professor Snape said, ‘fate was a fickle thing’, for fate led her to his place and time, and she didn’t know what to do now that her time here was almost over.

Her two weeks would be over in two days and she didn’t know what that meant to their relationship. Every time she tried to talk to him about it, he would deftly change the subject, which meant that he either didn’t know either, or didn’t care.

She cared more than she could fathom and now that it was almost over she didn’t know how she was going to go back to her normal life. How was she going to go back to seeing the adult ‘Snape’ everyday, after this? She was always very careful not to reveal anything of the future to him, and he was just as careful not to tell her too much about his past, or his present, such as it was, which she found odd and telling.

Still, she would have to say that she had learned more about magic, potions, plants and herself, this week from being with the teenage Severus than she would have learned if she had attended all of her lectures and planned activities that the camp offered.

He rarely show any blatantly romantic overtures toward her beyond the first kiss they shared, yet a mere touch of his hand on hers as they reached for the same plant, or the brush of his shoulder next to hers as they would cross a treacherous potion of a stream together, would send shivers down her spine. She got butterflies in her stomach whenever he was near. The awkwardness that surrounded him she found endearing, and whenever he blushed or stepped away from her, she found utterly charming.

She was falling in love with him. It was that simple. She always thought she loved Ronald. She used to have those sorts of feelings whenever he was near, but she hadn’t felt them for him in a very long time. But now, with the young Severus Snape, she couldn’t help but to feel them again, yet more intensely than before, and it was wrong.

She knew it was wrong.

It was wrong because she was going to have to leave this place, this time, this anomaly and travel back to her time in a mere two days and leave him behind. When she went back to school in the fall she would see him again, but he would be the adult Snape – Professor Snape – who never really cared for her.

It was enough to make her cry.

Therefore, on her second to last day at camp she made the now familiar trek toward the falls with a note in her hand, a note that told him goodbye, a note that explained to him how much he meant to her. A note that said she loved him. A note that told him that even though they would both remember this summer, although through different eyes and times, it would mean more to her than she would ever be able to express.

It said goodbye to him in a way that she would never be able to say in person.

She knew it was better this way. It was better to do this indirectly because only yesterday he had asked her a few oblique questions about her time and about himself as an adult. She evaded the questions, of course, but she couldn’t evade the heartbreak that was sure to ensue if she continued to see him like this.

This had to end.

Note in hand, she came out under the waterfall to his side, his time, his reality, wearing her one and only white cotton dress, to find that he was not yet there. Good, it would be easier that way, even though deep down inside she had hoped he might be there.

She walked over toward the river where their first meeting took place and gazed out upon the rushing dark water and she felt a numbness creep up her body. It started in her toes and spread throughout each limb, then into her chest and head. She didn’t know how she would carry on without him. She didn’t know how she would say goodbye. She didn’t know how she would see him in the future, and remember the past without her heart breaking.

Turning, she walked over to the cove of trees where he usually set up his campfire for his potions and she placed the small white envelope on the ground, then she turned to leave. Walking back toward the clearing to the path that led to the waterfall she heard him.

“Where are you going?”

That familiar baritone reverberated throughout her body and she stopped, but she couldn’t turn around. She would, however, answer him. “I’m leaving.”

“So I see. May I ask why? You still have two days left of camp; at least, that was my impression.”

She turned slowly and saw that he had her note held fast in his right fist, crumpled tightly, not yet read.

“I might leave early,” she lied.

Not saying a word, he held out his free hand. She looked down at his long, elegant fingers… fingers that had brushed back strands of her hair, touched her cheek, and held her hand countless other times throughout the last two weeks. Without another thought she placed her hand inside his. His hand was warm as it encased hers. He turned and started walking. She looked down at the forest floor, glancing at the dappled rays of sunshine coming through the boughs of the tree limbs, painting shadows and lights on the ground. Concentrating on the path, and on the heat of his hand on hers, and on his breathing, she continued walking. She didn’t know where he was taking her, but still she followed him, her fingers cold although the air was humid and warm.

They walked across the wooden bridge, stopping on the largest boulder that overlooked the edge of the rolling river, and just for one moment her heart stopped, and she forgot that she had come to tell him goodbye.

He dropped her hand and turned to face her. “You know, it’s dawned on me that we’ve never really discussed the ramifications of all of this.” He was so close to her that she could reach out and touch him if she wanted to – and she did want to – yet she kept her hands to herself.

He apparently decided that HE would touch her instead. With a steady hand he reached up and skimmed his fingers down her face to her jaw, then feathery soft down her arm, reaching again to capture her hand.

“I thought of all of that. It’s in my note. I’ll go back and take the antidote to the potion, the one you told me about, and you should do the same, although I’m not certain if taking the antidote before you take the potion, which in essences is that you’ll be doing, will work or not,” she rambled onward, staring into his copper-brown gaze, feeling woozy and lightheaded from his nearness and his touch.

He took the hand that was in his, while stuffing the note that was in his other hand in his jeans pocket, and then he opened her fingers with his free hand, while cradling her hand gently in his. Her eyes never left his face, and she noticed a satisfying smile upon his lips as he placed a small round stone, bright blue, highly polished, in the middle of her hand.

“This is to remember me by,” he said, while his eyes roamed her face.

She shook her head even as she withdrew her hand. “No. Didn’t you hear me? Read my note. We must forget each other, not remember each other. The only thing we should ever remember about each other is that I’m your student and you’re my professor. I don’t want to forget you, but we must. It’s for the best.”

Reaching back for her hand slowly, almost hesitantly, he took her hand again, placed the stone in her palm, and closed her hand around it. “To remember me, even if you forget.” Then he smiled a sad, vulnerable smile.

The heaviness that had been in her heart eased away at that response, replaced with hope and warmth, even as she turned away to wipe a tear from her eye. “I wish I had something to give to you,” she said suddenly, realizing that she didn’t. “I want to leave you something to show you how much these last two weeks have meant to me, how much you’ve meant to me. I’ve fallen… I’ve… Well… I love you, Severus Snape.”

He seemed overwhelmed by her admission, his mouth open, and his eyes wide. Then, smiling, he said, “You don’t need to give me anything other than that, because with those words, you’ve given me more than you’ve ever realize. I love you, too.” He started to rip open the envelope in his grasp.

“Please,” she begged, “read that later, after I’ve left.”

He nodded and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Yes. Well, if we are meant to forget each other, then we must make sure we take the antidote to the Invidia Encontra potion. Do you recall the ingredients? Will you be able to brew it on your own? Shall I make some for you before you leave?”

She smiled. “You doubt my ability to make such a simple potion?”

“Well…” He smiled. “If I say yes, you are sure to thrash me solidly, so no, I doubt nothing.”

“That’s right,” she said, trying hard to smile, even though there was a giant lump in her throat.

“Take the antidote as soon as you get home,” he urged. “You should forget about this as soon as you’re able.” He kicked at a rock on the large boulder with the toe of his trainer and it went into the river.

“I shall.” She held out her hand. “Well, goodbye, Severus. It was so very nice to really get to know you.” She started to walk across the large boulder when he said, “Wait!”

Instead of waiting, she let out a sigh, and then she stopped by the edge of the boulder, and did something she never intended to do. She pulled her white cotton dress right over her head. The dress lay in a puddle by her feet and she was completely naked underneath except for a pair of knickers. She pulled her knickers down and kicked off her sandals and then paused for only a moment before she dove off the side of the boulder into the river before her.

Holding her breath as long as she could she swam underwater, kicking down, down, down, until she felt as if her lungs were about to burst. Only when she began to see little stars in her eyes and her chest began to burn did she kick off the mud floor of the bottom of the river back up to the top of the water.

Breaking free to the air of the surface, the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Severus. He had jumped in and was swimming toward her. She swam toward the large stone boulder, anchoring herself to it with one arm, swallowing hard as she saw his jeans, t-shirt and trainers beside her clothing.

Suddenly feeling happy and light, she turned around as he came closer, his hands upon her waist. She laughed, through back her head, and decided that if she was going to forget loving him, then what did any of this matter anyway?

His black hair shimmered with wet, beads of water dancing upon his upper body, and she felt shy and aware that they were both naked, so she moved from his arms and swam away from him, knowing he would follow.

They swam around each other, pushing pulling, laughing, dunking, floating, gliding, floating. Both were breathless as they swam up the river toward the waterfall. Soon, they were under the mist, the falls beating gently down upon them. They hid in a little notch in the stones as the thunderous, rushing water beat all around them, spraying water everywhere, too loud for words, although words weren’t necessary.

Underneath the falls he took her face in his hands, leaned closer, and parted her lips with his, drinking from the well of her mouth. Her arms went tighter around his arms, and she shook from fear, and from the cold icy spray of the water.

With open mouth kisses, he covered her face, neck and chest. Her hair. Her shoulders. His hands held her hands in his, and he began to swim toward the shore with her, pulling her, even as he continued his wild, passionate kisses.

She was never afraid. The entire time, she was never afraid. She was thankful for the feel of his body on hers, the way her breasts felt against his chest, and his thighs felt against her legs. The way his skin rubbed against hers. She wanted him. She wanted this. She wanted to remember him forever. Before she went back to the real world, she wanted to be with him and to remember him, like this… just like this.

After they made love, they lay on their dry cloths on top of the boulder, and she held the little blue stone in her hand. She finally spoke. “I still haven’t given you anything to remember me by, not that it matters, if we’re to take the antidote to forget.”

He was holding her to his chest, with his body behind hers. She looked over her shoulder and she said, “We’re going to take the antidote, aren’t we?”

He sat up, took his wand out of his pocket that was in his jeans behind him and said, “Well, no, I don’t think that’s really necessary, do you?”

She suddenly grabbed her dress and placed it in front of her. “Whatever do you mean?”

He stood and pulled on his jeans, so she stood and pulled on her dress, even though she didn’t understand. “I don’t think there’s any reason for me to forget. Do you? I mean, what harm is there for me to remember you? Remembering something from my past can’t possibly change my future, can it? Likewise, from what you’ve told me, I must already remember this incident, for you told me that the adult me urged you to drink the potion you made, didn’t he?”

“Ah…yes, but, it can still change the future, I’m sure it can,” she began to argue. “We discussed this last week, when you told me about the antidote. We said we’d both take it.”

“Well now I don’t think either of us has to take it,” he said, pulling her to him and holding her close.

With her cheek on his chest she whispered, “But even if you don’t think it’s harmful for you to remember this incident, it might be detrimental for me.”

“On that I agree, but the antidote won’t be necessary.” He continued to hold her close, even as she started to cry. “I find that I don’t want to forget you. It serves no purpose. You’ve helped me realize that the feelings of envy that I’ve felt almost all my life were worthless, and I don’t want to feel them ever again. You’ve taught me that I was worth loving, Hermione Granger. I find that I don’t want to forget that. I won’t ever forget it. You, however, have to, I’m afraid.” He took his wand and held it out in front of him and said, “Obliviate.”


Hermione found herself beside a waterfall, her dress half unbuttoned, her hair a mess, the day half gone, and she had no clue how she had gotten there. In her fist she was holding a polished blue stone with no clue how it got there. It was raining, only slightly, but she felt cold and confused as she stood up to walked back to Camp Donne. Feeling weary and disoriented, she wasn’t sure what was real and what was a dream. Although there were two days left of the camp, she left early, telling her parents she felt under the weather.

When fall came and school started back she found that she felt different about her Potion’s Professor, and she didn’t know why. She felt almost sympathetic toward him, and she also found that she began to dream about him, and began to have romantic notions of him, envisioning him as a young man. She also felt as if he ‘acted’ differently toward her, but she was never completely sure if she imagined it or not.

And for the rest of her life, every time it rained, she would think of Professor Snape, and she would remember the summer she went to Camp Donne and she would think of the two as one… and for some reason it always made her smile, even though it made her sad.

THE END