Getting the Hang of Thursdays

Chapter 6 - Who Was Left?

By Hayseed

Day One Hundred Five

“Look, Harry,” Granger hissed as she set up her cauldron. “Just take it, all right?”

“Hermione--”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Granger, Potter, is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class?”

Looking down at his shoes, Potter just mumbled something that he did not catch. Granger, however, looked up at Severus forthrightly. “No, Professor Snape,” she said, sounding very nearly happy.

For a brief moment, he debated subtracting points. But he’d grown reluctant through the days -- through the todays -- to deduct points from Granger. Adding insult to injury, perhaps. It did not bear thought. Severus turned back to the board and resumed writing, ignoring the pair.

An hour and a half later, however, when Malfoy threw his mystery jar at Potter’s head, instead of merely ducking as he usually did, Potter twisted to the side, allowing the jar to pass over his left shoulder into Longbottom’s cauldron, and grabbed his knapsack, lobbing it into Malfoy’s face.

The Slytherin swore as it collided with his nose, and the knapsack fell, landing flat on its front on the ground. Granger’s eyes rounded and she leapt forward, digging into the bag. “You moron,” she shouted at Potter, turning it over and shaking out a handful of broken glass and sand. “You utter wanker!” In her fury, Granger actually ran her hands briefly through the pile that Severus was beginning to suspect had been a Time Turner five minutes ago.

“Erm... Professor?” he heard Longbottom’s tremulous voice ask ominously. “Professor Snape?”

Severus mentally cursed -- he’d forgotten about the exploding potion. Only turning halfway, he kept his eyes on Granger, still rummaging through the glass, the sand from the broken Time Turner sticking to her increasingly bloody hands. “No, no, no,” she moaned.

“Everybody, get out,” he said loudly, but it lacked his usual intensity. He knew the ending for this one.

Day One Hundred Ten

Someone was knocking on his office door. As it was during breakfast and Severus knew that Albus had never spoken with him at seven in the morning on Thursday the twenty-fifth before, it could only be one person. “Enter, Granger,” he said boredly.

Sticking her head around the door, she offered him a tentative smile. “How did you -- of course you knew who it was,” she told herself. “May I have a word, Professor?”

“I have not objected thus far,” he said, laying down his quill. “What is it, Miss Granger?”

“I was wondering,” she began, taking a seat before he could even offer it, “if you had to go someplace today where you knew you would be completely alone, where would it be?”

“Another tryst with Weasley, is it?” Severus asked nastily before he could help himself.

Granger just glared at him.

Perversely enjoying himself, he folded his arms over his chest and returned her glare. “Come, now, Miss Granger. I can hardly give you such sensitive information if I do not know to what use it will be put.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in helping me,” she retorted sullenly.

Severus remained silent.

“Oh, all right,” Granger exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m trying to keep the Time Turner from breaking, all right? I tried giving it to Harry, Ginny, Ron, even Neville. But every person I give it to breaks it somehow. And before that, I tried leaving it in my room, hidden in the common room, in the library, every place I could think of. But I’m fairly certain that didn’t work, as I’m here talking about it with you. So I’ve got to put it someplace that no one will happen across it and break it.”

“The Shrieking Shack,” he said without a second’s hesitation. “No one ever goes there, and I know for a fact that it’s within the time-loop.”

“How did you figure that out?” Granger asked curiously.

It was Severus’ turn to study his fingernails. “I went there one day, obviously,” he said in a haughty voice.

“Was that the day that you slapped a Portkey in my hand, perhaps?” she countered slyly.

Glancing up to see her wry, unrepentant grin, Severus tried and failed to keep his mouth shut. “But, you didn’t--”

“I thought it was a dream for the longest time,” she said, contemplative. “But I kept wondering, why would I dream that I was playing Exploding Snap with Professor Snape right before I fell through a window? I did fall through a window, didn’t I? It’s very hazy.”

“You did.” Severus considered it a great sacrifice on his part to tactfully omit that the reason she’d ‘fallen’ through a window was because Potter had hexed her through it.

They studied each other quietly for a long moment. “So... you’re certain about the Shack?” she eventually asked.

“As certain as I am about anything as of late,” he said, steadily enough.

“Thanks, Professor,” she said in a casual tone as she picked up her bag and left his office.

More than six hours later, as Severus stood in Albus’ office and listened impassively to the announcement of Granger’s untimely death -- she’d skipped his class again -- their conversation played through his mind. As Minerva McGonagall openly wept and the other staff crowded around her in varying stages of comfort and/or grief, Severus bowed his head and excused himself from the office, one thought and one thought only circling his brain.

The Shrieking Shack.

Granger had put the Time Turner in the Shrieking Shack, where it shouldn’t -- couldn’t -- have been disturbed.

Maybe...

Severus did not walk, Severus ran to the Whomping Willow, searching the ground for a sufficiently long branch as he ran. A quick prod to the correct knot, and he was in, picking up speed as he dashed down the dark tunnel, not even bothering to light his wand.

The damned door was stuck, of course. Throwing all of his weight against it several times, he finally managed to push it open far enough to wriggle through.

He stood in the middle of a mess. It appeared as if some time during the day, one of the timbers in the ceiling had come unanchored and fallen to the floor, breaking many of the floorboards, shattering the window that had claimed Granger so many todays before, and wedging itself against the door leading to the secret passage, explaining why Severus had such difficulty entering the room.

Squinting at the floor, he saw a tell-tale pile of broken glass and sand lying next to a gold chain, sparkling in the afternoon sun.

Severus threw back his head and let out a long, wordless shout, frustrated beyond coherent speech.

“The Time Turner broke, didn’t it?” Granger asked once he’d stepped back to let her into his office.

“If I believed in a deity, I would swear that it was laughing at me,” he muttered by way of reply as they took their respective seats.

Granger’s smile was small and clearly suppressed. “Well... I had one last thought.”

“And that would be...?” he asked impatiently.

“I could give the Time Turner to you, sir.”

Throwing his hands in the air, Severus felt the look of horror spread across his face. “No,” he said quickly.

She looked puzzled but said nothing.

“Granger, I refuse to watch you die knowing that I’ve broken the Time Turner as well,” he elaborated.

“Well...” she drawled, tapping a finger on the arm of her chair. “Maybe we could... mind it together, sort of? Go someplace where we won’t be disturbed -- not the Shrieking Shack,” she said to his opening mouth, “as we know already that doesn’t seem to work very well. But some other place. And we just... wait?”

“For what?” he asked rhetorically. “Granger, I fail to see how this is any different from any other possible course.”

“Do you have something you’d rather be doing today?”

Severus sighed. “The Astronomy tower,” he replied.

Blinking rapidly, Granger looked as if she did not know whether to be confused or disgusted. “What?”

With another sigh, he gave her a long-suffering glare. “No, you idiot. We can go to the Astronomy tower. It’s fairly abandoned during the day.”

“Oh,” she said, now appearing extremely relieved -- Severus tried not to roll his eyes and mostly failed. “So, I’ll meet you there at, say, one-thirty?”

“As you wish, Miss Granger,” he said. After all, Potter had not been incorrect when he’d informed Granger that it was ‘a beautiful day’ in his occasional misguided attempts to lure her to the Quidditch pitch. In all fairness, he supposed as he watched Granger leave his office, Potter didn’t know that he was merrily leading her to a horrible death...

But then again, Severus had never allowed himself the luxury of fairness where Potter was concerned. Today was slightly different, though. Who knew what he would find himself doing before today was done?

Although... if he found himself actually cozying up to Potter at any point during any of this, Severus was fully prepared to kick back and welcome their impending nonexistence with a warm, loving embrace.

At any rate, nevertheless, the weather today was quite amenable, and Severus actually went up to the Astronomy tower a full hour earlier than the time he and Granger had agreed upon. He peeled the orange he’d taken out of the bowl at the lunch table earlier with a lazy sort of deliberation, gazing out at the horizon as his fingers went about their mindless work. Propped comfortably against the tower wall, Severus found himself quite enjoying the juxtaposition of the warm sunlight on his face and hands against the stones’ coolness seeping into his back.

He took a bite out of his last orange slice, slurping a bit as juice threatened to dribble down his chin -- Severus never, ever permitted himself the indignity of eating potentially messy foods unless he was safely alone -- and watched an owl skim the surface of the lake as it flew by. The owl was not delivering anything, of course -- not today -- only flying out of what Severus assumed was sheer enjoyment.

“You’re up here early, Professor,” an amused voice said from the doorway.

“As are you, Granger,” he replied, hurriedly finishing his slice of orange and resisting the urge to lick his fingers -- that certainly would not do. “We agreed upon one-thirty, if I remember correctly.”

“Apparently, we are both morbidly punctual people,” she said, approaching him with a smile on her face.

Severus was not exactly in the mood to engage in a verbal sparring match. “Where is it, Miss Granger?”

By way of reply, she simply reached into the collar of her robes, smile disappearing. The Time Turner dangled on the gold chain around her neck, looking oddly innocuous. Severus regarded it as he would a live nuclear bomb. “What do you think we should do with it?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“Keep it in sight, I guess,” he said with a small shrug.

A peculiar expression flitted across Granger’s face, and she quickly lifted the chain over her head and laid the Time Turner down on the top of the tower wall, which was about level with her chest. It rolled slightly as she let the chain drop to the stones.

Severus frowned. “Do you think that wise? We are trying to keep it intact, after all.”

Another smile came and went almost before he could discern its presence. “We still have an hour and a half, almost, Professor.”

“So it breaks at the same time you...?”

“I think so,” she answered, mercifully filling the awkward silence as he trailed off. “I don’t know if it has to happen that way, but there does seem to be a pattern. It’s not like I can go ask Terry or Ginny or any of the other people I left the blasted thing with what time they broke it on the day I died.”

He looked at the Time Turner for a moment -- mostly to avoid meeting Granger’s steady gaze -- and then pushed himself to a standing position, hooking the chain with a couple of fingers on his right hand and pulling it away from the ledge. “Perhaps, Miss Granger, we shouldn’t test this particular theory today.”

The girl just shrugged and slouched down to the floor, rummaging briefly in her pockets for a bit and coming up with a dog-eared book, obviously ready to ignore him. He raised an eyebrow at the cover of her book -- the title was not readable from this distance, but the art clearly featured a shirtless man with rippling muscles and long, flowing (flowing!) hair, cradling a buxom... well, vixen in his arms. Granger shot him a glare, daring him to say anything. “I found it in the common room two todays ago. And I’ve run out of other things to read that aren’t thousand page textbooks.”

“I didn’t ask,” he said, placidly enough. Scanning their space, Severus saw an old telescope bolted to the wall about five feet away from where Granger was sitting, probably for demonstrations in Astronomy classes. He figured it was as good a place as any and hung the Time Turner’s chain on one of the screws holding it to the wall. Satisfied with himself, he sat down once more, beside the Time Turner, and decided to mimic Granger. A quick search through his pockets, however, revealed that he was not equipped for it. Severus mentally swore -- wand, broken quill, and that same damned pack of Exploding Snap cards.

I have got to start thinking these things through more clearly, he thought ruefully as he gave the cards a quick shuffle. Granger looked up at the sound, and he was fairly certain that he saw her hide a smile, but she said nothing, instead returning to her book, and he decided not to press the issue.

Severus dealt out a game of solitaire and stared down at the cards thoughtfully, partially in an effort to make a move but mostly thinking about nothing. A move became apparent suddenly, and he shifted the cards around appropriately but soon fell still once more.

“You know...” Granger said quietly after a rather lengthy pause, “those cards do explode after a while, when they’re out of their holder, at any rate. You might want to finish up.”

He shot her a withering glower. “Granger, if I wanted your help, I would ask for it.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, laughter evident in her tone.

“Five points from Gryffindor.”

Granger laid her book on her knee and gave him an impossibly bright smile. “I’ve noticed lately that you don’t take points with nearly the frightening regularity that you used to. Can it be that Professor Snape has tired of tormenting his students?”

Shuffling a couple of cards around, he did not even look up at her. “Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

“Apparently not.” There was a rustle that he took to mean that Granger was returning to her reading.

Another rustle not five minutes later probably signified that she had put her book to the side again. “Professor Snape?”

With an interrogative grunt, he flipped over the top card in his hand, trying to see if he could fit it into the array on the board. Sighing, he dropped it on the discard pile.

“Will you take more points if I ask you a question?”

“Will you be quiet if I answer it?” he countered, turning over another card and scanning his layout.

She still sounded halfway amused. “It’s not that sort of question.”

Discard. “What sort is it, then?”

“The kind that’s generally intended to initiate a conversation.” He heard something -- her book, presumably -- fall to the floor with a soft thumping noise.

“Miss Granger, in case you hadn’t noticed, we really don’t have anything to talk about.” Another discard -- he had the feeling that he was going to lose this game. If he hadn’t been fairly certain Granger was watching him, he probably would have cheated a card or two out of the facedown piles on the board.

As she shifted position slightly, her robes rasped against the stones of the wall behind her back. “We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

“Our current conversation is but a single step away from exchanging inanities concerning the weather, Granger. And before you ask, yes, it is a positively lovely day, and yes, the sunshine is quite enjoyable,” he said in a deadpan voice, idly using the card he was preparing to discard to scratch his chin. Maybe she wouldn’t notice if he just slid one of those out from under...

“Professor, I really wouldn’t do that with those if I were you...”

Scowling, he threw the final card on his discard pile. “Blast it, girl, ask your damned question, would you?”

There was a slight pause -- Severus could hear Granger inhaling. “When you’re not teaching, what do you spend today doing?”

“That, Miss Granger,” he replied, scooping the cards up in preparation to shuffle them, “is none of your business.”

She did not speak, and Severus continued to shuffle.

Finally, the silence became unbearable and he gave a little huff, dealing another game of solitaire. “I read,” he eventually said. “I mark my third years’ essays. And I also spend a fair amount of the day agonizing.”

“You mark essays?” she asked. “Every day?”

“Pretty much.” This hand looked much more promising.

Granger sounded very nearly horrified. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he said defensively, turning over the top card on one of the stacks on the board. “Maybe it’s because I plan on giving them back to the miscreants who produced them one day, and I don’t want to be caught unawares.”

“I doubt it, sir,” she said in a dubious voice.

Finally, Severus looked up. “And why not, pray tell?”

“That sounds entirely too optimistic to be true,” she said smugly, giving him a self-satisfied look. Unwilling to beleaguer the point, he turned back to his game. “Did you just slip out an extra card when you flipped that one over?”

Deftly, he palmed it. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied suspiciously.

“Five points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable goody-two-shoes,” he said, turning over his palmed card. Damn -- it wasn’t the one he was looking for. Severus threw it on the discard pile and sighed.

“What time is it?” she asked suddenly.

“Forget your watch?”

She shot him a dark look. “Forgive me if I shy away from the notion of counting down to my own demise, Professor.”

“Two o’clock,” he replied shortly, not meeting her eyes.

“You’re overdue, you know,” Granger told him in a mild voice.

Blinking, he wondered what on Earth she could mean by that. “What?”

“Your cards,” she explained. “You’re--”

It could not have happened in a more timely fashion if Granger had planned it. Suddenly, as she spoke, the cards on the floor, in his hands exploded. “God-damn it,” he swore, holding his singed hands away from his body.

“I told you.” Was Granger laughing at him?

Severus examined his reddened hands carefully. “It’s not funny, Granger.”

“Of course not, sir,” she replied, voice trembling with concealed laughter. She was laughing at him. Or, trying to, at least. “Not even a bit.”

“I do not appreciate being patronized, Miss Granger.” He regarded her with a baleful eye that did not appear to detract from her mirth in the slightest.

Finally, after many beats of silence, the corners of her mouth ceased twitching.

“Miss Granger--”

The girl held up a hand. “No, don’t,” she interrupted, “else I’ll start laughing again.”

“Your sense of humor is pathetic,” he told her, still glowering.

Coughing briefly, Granger just gave him a weak smile. “I believe, Professor, that you were explaining how you’re spending eternity grading essays in the hopes that all will magically be well tomorrow.”

“Well...” Severus drawled, “it is a magical school, after all.”

Granger gaped at him. “Did you just...?”

“You have just confirmed my suspicions, Granger. That was what we commonly refer to as ‘a joke.’” It was his turn to smirk.

“I know that,” she retorted, nose in the air. “I beg your pardon, Professor -- you merely took me by surprise.”

His smirk was threatening to become a genuine smile. “I will try to remember, Granger, that humor may be used to unsettle you to great effect.”

“Only the once,” she said. “I’ll be ready for it in the future. What time is it now?”

Severus recoiled slightly at the non sequitur. “Erm, ten minutes past.”

In unison, both he and Granger fell silent and turned to look at the Time Turner, still innocently sparkling in the sunlight. “Are you afraid, sir?” he heard her whisper, watching the thing twist gently as a breeze caught it.

He did not want to lie, but neither did he want to admit to such a weakness. In the end, Severus chose not to reply.

“Because I am,” she said, eyes fixed on the hypnotically swinging Time Turner.

“We still have twenty minutes,” he told her, not unkindly.

“Will you...” Granger began, finally pulling her gaze away from the small hourglass-shaped pendant with visible effort. “Will you please put that thing away, sir?”

Severus felt his hand twitch as he unlooped the chain from its makeshift hook, trying to keep his movements as casual as he could. “Where do you want me to put it, Miss Granger?”

“I don’t care,” she said. “Anywhere but there. I don’t want to look at it.”

He almost put it in his pocket -- caught his hand before it could reach its destination and forcibly pulled it away. Scanning their surroundings, Severus eventually settled for merely crossing the tower and sitting it on the floor opposite Granger. Mercifully, a shadow fell across that particular space, obscuring the sparkle and rendering the Time Turner nearly invisible as he laid it down. She would be hard-pressed to see it from here. “Is this sufficient?”

With a little shrug, she seemed to almost shrink into her wall. “Professor...”

Approaching her, Severus saw that her pupils were overly dilated and the blood was draining from her face. The girl was clearly terrified.

He’d never paid any particular attention to her in this moment before -- had always deliberately ignored her. Consequently, this was the first time that he looked into her eyes and saw the terrible knowledge they held.

So this was what someone who knew that they were about to die looked like.

Forcing himself to crouch down beside her, Severus put a hand on her arm. “Granger...”

“I always wonder,” she began in a dry whisper. “I wonder what it’s going to be this time. If it’s not the potion, or a hex gone awry, or something.” Her chin tilted upward and she stared at the sky. “Maybe there’s an owl carrying a rock heading straight for me right this instant. Or maybe Peeves is going to come up here and blast me off the tower. Or maybe -- ouch!” she cried suddenly, right in his ear.

Severus jumped. “What is it?”

“My leg...” she said in a faint voice, pulling her robe up to reveal a calf. “Something... oh, no...” she muttered as she reached down and plucked at something with two fingers. “Oh, no...” It was more of a whimper now.

Glancing at her hand, Severus saw a twisting creature with black and yellow stripes. “It’s just a bee, Miss Granger,” he said in an effort to soothe her.

“Professor...” she said hoarsely. “I’m allergic to bee stings.”

“Allergic?” he echoed, feeling the weak hope that had flared in his chest flicker and die. “Of course you’re allergic...” he muttered.

Granger crushed the squirming insect in between her fingers. “It’s not as if I can... help it... sir...” she wheezed, breaths becoming distinctly labored.

“Do you want me to run and fetch Poppy?” he asked, knowing her response even as he asked.

“One... stupider questions...” she managed between gasps. “... time is it?”

Grim, Severus just shook his head, clutching at her hand as her head lolled on his shoulder. As gently as he could, he eased Granger onto the floor. A bee, he thought hysterically. A doubly cursed, shouldn’t-matter-a-damn bee!

Granger made an alarming choking sound and jerked in his loose embrace.

“Fight it, Granger,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “You can fight it. It’s only a stupid little bug bite!”

Even as she battled to breathe, she offered him a faint smile. “... time turner,” she said nearly inaudibly, lips turning an unsettling shade of blue.

“No, Granger,” Severus pushed, pressing his thumbs to her temples. “You’re going to check the damned Time Turner yourself.”

Her eyes rolled, but he was fairly certain it was involuntary. “Must... be... time,” she puffed.

As her body went slack in his arms, Severus resisted the urge to pummel it, shouting for her to wake up. It was irrational and futile and he knew it. It was two thirty-four.

The Time Turner.

She’d wanted him to...

Blindly, Severus stood, keeping his gaze averted from Granger’s body. Where was the blasted thing? Taking one step forward -- away from her -- and then another, he struggled to remember. He’d put it on the other side of...

Crunch.

Frozen, he glanced down and saw the crushed remains of the Time Turner under his left heel.

Dropping to his knees, Severus grabbed a handful of the broken thing, heedless of the glass shards embedding themselves into his palm, and began to laugh hysterically.