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.