Another World

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was seeing in the mirror. It wasn’t herself, looking very rumpled and tired. It was Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and Harry and Ron. The latter two were staring at her with slightly relieved and somewhat smug smiles. She watched Harry move his mouth and grin at the headmaster who nodded slowly. Hermione narrowed her eyes as she realized that she could see them and not hear them and that they obviously could see her too.

“This is incredible!” she laughed aloud, tears springing to her eyes as she saw their faces. They were glad and hopeful tears.

“What the devil are you going on about?” asked Severus irately from the bathroom.

The door opened as she turned.

“You have to see this!” she said, striding toward him and grabbing him by the arm as she hauled him toward the mirror. “Look!” she told him, throwing an arm around his midsection as she pulled, not wanting him to stumble.

Severus was feeling momentarily annoyed by Hermione’s behavior, but that was forgotten as he saw colleagues and students in the mirror. He could not remember the last time he felt so elated and relieved. He laughed aloud and squeezed Hermione’s shoulders.

“You old devil! I should have known you’d find a way to get to us!” he laughed, wagging a finger at Professor Dumbledore.

The headmaster gestured to his ears and shook his head, looking very amused all the while.

“He can’t hear us,” said Hermione.

“Bother!” said Snape.

“They’re only laughing, dear. Not saying much at all,” said the mirror.

“Can you talk to them too?” asked Hermione excitedly.

“Of course. I am a magical looking glass, after all,” it said a bit primly.

“Tell them to get us out of here,” said Severus, who was beginning to calm down again.

They saw Albus and Minerva look at one another. Severus had known them both long enough to detect worry in those glances. Dumbledore’s lips moved.

“He said that they are working very diligently on the problem and inquires about the health of Remus Lupin and Ginny Weasley.”

“They’re fine,” said Hermione.

She could see the relief very plainly on the faces of McGonagall and Ron in particular.

“Remus! Ginny! Get in here right now!” Severus blasted into Hermione’s ear. She winced, but chuckled at the same time.

The people on the other side of the looking glass were laughing as the mirror had no doubt told them what happened.

The door squeaked open, and the pair practically ran as they entered the room. They looked very worried, although Ginny seemed to be blushing slightly too. Hermione beckoned them closer with her free arm.

“Take a look!” she encouraged.

“This is wonderful! I can see the headmaster and Minerva! And Harry and Ron as well. This is a pleasant surprise,” Remus laughed.

Ron and Ginny waved to one another with huge, matching grins plastered on their faces. Ginny could have sworn that there were tears in her older brother’s eyes. She watched Ron move his lips.

“He says that he is very glad to see that you’re all right, Ginny,” the mirror told her.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“Do you have a plan to get us out of here?” Remus asked.

“They have an incantation,” said the looking glass. “But they can only take one of you through each mirror. Oh, dear, that doesn’t sound good.”

“What?” asked Snape and Hermione.

“They can only take one of you through each looking glass.”

“But that shouldn’t be a problem. There are at least four mirrors within the wards,” said Remus.

“No, they mean special looking glasses, like me, enchanted by the Founders themselves to rescue students or professors or any hapless person inadvertently brought into the demon realm,” the mirror answered.

“How many are there?” questioned Severus, nervously tightening his grip upon Hermione again.

“I am the only one they know of for certain, but there should be four others in the castle, as one was broken. You see, the Founders didn’t want us to be used lightly or for visits between realms to occur for unsavory purposes,” said the mirror, interpreting for Dumbledore.

They were silent for a few moments. Then Hermione spoke.

“Severus, you should go. You’ve been hurt, and you are in need of medical attention. Remus and I can maintain the wards without you.”

“The hell I will! I won’t leave you here with possibly no chance of escape,” Severus objected, looking down at Hermione with a horrified expression on his face that he could not conceal.

Despite the gravity of the situation, her heart pounded as she realized that he was refusing to leave her in spite of the painful wounds he had received and the fear that he had confessed to feeling. But she earnestly wanted him to go to safety. She wanted to know that he would be all right.

“Severus ...” she began.

“No, none of us are leaving unless all of us can. Together or not at all. That’s the only way that we can all survive this mess,” said Remus, who wanted nothing more than to send his lovely Ginny back to the world where they belonged.

The mirror, obviously continuing to translate for the two groups, told them, “The headmaster says that none of you should give up hope. The search for the other mirrors is not over yet.”

“Good,” murmured Remus.

“And he wants to know how badly Professor Snape has been hurt.”

“Hardly more than a scratch!” assured Severus, looking into the concerned eyes of his friend and colleague.

“More like a dozen rather deep ones from a very large demon,” said Hermione with a little too much honesty. Snape glowered at her. “But he seems to be recovering,” she added.

“Professor McGonagall wants you to be sure that you are taking care of yourself,” said the looking glass.

“Tell her ...” Snape began to say, but looking down at Hermione he changed his mind and in a softer voice said, “Tell Minerva that I am being taken care of quite well. Thank you very much.”

Minerva raised her eyebrows and looked at Hermione and Severus more closely, noticing that they had their arms around each other.

“Indeed,” said the mirror, echoing Professor McGonagall.

Harry and Ron both looked rather surprised as they realized what the mirror and McGonagall were saying.

“The headmaster says that they must get back to work and that they will contact you periodically to keep you all well informed and apprised of their progress. He also warns the four of you not to attempt anything risky and to keep your chins up until they can get you out of there.”

“Thank him for us,” said Remus.

“I did,” said the mirror as the four people on the other side of the looking glass waved to them and walked away.



“They’ll find the other mirrors. It’s only a matter of time,” shrugged Remus as the looking glass on the wall showed only their own reflections again. The overtly affectionate smile that he gave Ginny caused Severus to roll his eyes, slightly nauseated.

“Isn’t it time for you to take your potion and go curl up by the fire?” asked Severus, who was not so optimistic as the werewolf.

“I do believe that the time is drawing nigh,” said Remus, chuckling.

“Can I come with you?” asked Ginny.

“I trust you can fill the goblet yourself,” said Severus as Remus looked at him.

“Fine,” agreed Remus with a confident nod.

Severus shivered as he watched Ginny slip her hand into Remus’s as they walked out of the bedroom.

“Still disturbs you, hmm?” asked Hermione with a chuckle, guiding Severus back to bed.

“And it appears to be getting worse,” snorted Severus, allowing her to tuck the blankets around him and adjust the pillow behind him.

“I think it’s rather cute,” said Hermione.

“So cute that it’s sickening.”

“Severus! I didn’t think you knew the word.”

“Sickening?”

“No, cute!” she laughed, sitting down by his side.

He snorted and then seemed to grow more serious. It was nice, he admitted to himself, hearing her laugh and speak so freely. She seemed happy for the first time since this adventure had begun. Hermione was so lovely when she was happy and smiling. He smiled, but it was a sorrowful smile as he wondered what would become of her in their still desperate situation.

She furrowed her brow in confusion as she watched his facial expression change. It was like watching a strange internal argument that was being played out silently upon his face, only his changing expressions giving his thoughts away.

“I would love to know what you’re thinking right now,” she told him.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Severus?”

“What if they don’t find enough mirrors? Who will stay behind in the end, Hermione?” he questioned.

Hermione shuddered at the thought of one or more of them trapped in the demon world forever and shook her head.

“It won’t happen. The headmaster won’t let it and neither would Remus,” she said softly, looking down at her hands where they were clasped in her lap.

Severus reached and brushed a honey brown lock of hair away from her face. She clasped his hand and held it to her cheek, closing her eyes as tears sprang unbidden into them. As he felt the tears upon his hand, he drew Hermione closer and kissed the top of her head. His heart ached as she wept. She did not weep for herself or even for Remus and Ginny. He knew that she was weeping for him.

“Hermione ...”

“Oh, just shut up,” she sniffed, burying her face in his robes. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Severus just blinked and stroked her back with a gentleness he did not know he possessed.

“If you start up about remaining behind or something rotten like that, I swear ... by Merlin’s Beard that I’ll hex you or ... or something,” she told him.

“Hermione Granger! Stop that crying this minute. I wasn’t going to say any such thing.”

She looked up at him and said, “No? Well, you were thinking it!”

“How do you know what I was thinking?” he asked. “I could have been thinking about any number of things. I could have been thinking about stunning Lupin or Miss Weasley and leaving them behind for all you know.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“But I could have been considering it,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re impossible!” she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

“Well if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black!”

Hermione managed to smile again and said, “I’m flattered that you think we’re so much alike.”

“That isn’t what I meant at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe we are a bit,” he admitted. “Stubborn, clever, and better with ideas than with other people.”

“I’m just a little ... headstrong. You are a very disagreeable man. There is a difference,” she corrected.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her characterization of him.

“Disagreeable am I?”

“Not that I mind it so much, but other people ...”

“To hell with other people then.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” she said reproachfully. A smile was tugging at her lips.

“What I meant was that as long as you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter so much to me,” he said, looking her in the eye as he made his feelings known.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

They looked at each other for a long moment before Hermione slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled him closer, close enough to kiss him. She knew that doing so was one of those things that she would either regret for the rest of her natural life or not regret for an instant. And she had to know which.

His eyes widened in surprise as she kissed him, but only a moment was lost as Severus drew her into his arms and passionately enveloped her lips in his own. Only in his wildest dreams, the more recent ones anyhow, had anything like this ever happened. Hermione’s kiss grew more and more fervent almost as though they were each trying to rival the passion of the other.

Hermione could feel his heart beating wildly under her hand that rested upon his chest. She reached toward the top button of his robes, but he caught her hand and moaned what sounded like ‘no’ into her mouth. She slipped her hand downward again, content to feel his heartbeat and his lips upon hers, knowing that he was hardly well enough for anything more.

He only pulled away when he was breathless and seeing stars. He ran a hand through her hair and smiled at her with tears in his eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had kissed him like that. It had been back in the days when his arms were both white and unmarred by any symbol of darkness. After that there had only been conquests. No love, no affection given or taken. Nothing real or genuine.

Hermione closed his eyes and began to kiss away the tears. He shook with silently sobs as she did so. Hushing him between kisses, she tenderly brushed his raven hair from his face. He had never seemed so beautiful as he did lying there with his eyes closed and all the hardness and shrewd cunning washed from his face. She kissed the bridge of his nose and felt his arms around her waist.

“Hermione ...” he said in a trembling voice.

“Yes?”

“I never expected ...”

“I know. Not in a place like this.”

“You can read my mind,” he said, opening his eyes.

“We’re a lot alike, remember?”

“I remember.”

He released her and managed an uncertain smile. Hermione realized that she liked that smile a lot and the man it belonged to as well.

“Promise me, Hermione, that when we get out of here, it won’t be like it was before, that we won’t go back to that.”

Those words were very nearly a declaration of love coming from Severus Snape.

“I promise, Severus, that what we have found here, will leave with us,” she said, chuckling.

“Fair enough,” he said as she began kissing him again.

Regret was the furthest thing from her mind.



Albus and Minerva strode from the dungeons and into the main corridors of the castle. It had done them both good to see that the missing members of the school seemed to be only a little worse for wear. Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he chuckled. If he had known the being thrown together like that would put Miss Granger and Severus on such good terms, he might have consider arranging something like that sooner, not that he wished Snape any hardship or pain, but he had never seen the man happier than when Hermione dragged him toward the looking glass. And Remus and Ginny had looked to be getting on together nicely as well.

Albus chuckled again and shook his head. It was an unexpected turn of events. He had expected to find a group of intensely frightened people on the other side of the mirror, but with the exception of injured Severus, they seemed to be handling themselves ideally.

“What are you laughing at, Albus! This situation is still very serious!” protested Professor McGonagall who had been listening to him chuckle as they walked.

She had been very pleased to see that her students were doing sufficiently well in their predicament. She was quite proud of Hermione Granger in particular. It required some special mettle to be able to stand up to Professor Snape and to deal with him effectively. Hermione had that in spades, it seemed.

Glancing at Albus and trying to keep at bay the blush that threatened to rise into her cheeks, she thought of the headmaster and herself when she had been only a bit younger than Miss Granger. Minerva had treated her transfigurations' professor’s cuts and bruises after the capture of Grindelwald as she waited for him to decide the Dark Wizard’s fate. Albus Dumbledore had been very powerful, very formidable even then.

But in those long past days as he had sat, wand in one hand and the other resting on his knee, watching the stunned and bound form of their enemy, Minerva had looked into the slightly haunted eyes of her mentor and teacher, whom she held in high esteem and yet for whom she felt also a desperate longing. She couldn’t remember his exact words, something about imprisoning foul things with other things of the same nature. Minerva had glanced at Grindelwald’s broken wand and nodded as she shivered. The battle had been horrific. She had said something to Albus about his bravery. And he had smiled at her. Then she had kissed him.

“Was I laughing, Minerva? I must watch that. People really will think I’m a barmy old codger, won’t they?” he said, chuckling again.

“Why didn’t you mention that only one person could come through each mirror?” she inquired suddenly.

“I didn’t? It must have slipped my mind, though I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to worry anyone unnecessarily. No need to do anything like that,” Albus told her. “Besides, only half the castle has been searched so far. The other gateway mirrors will turn up sooner or later,” he added.

“I hope you’re right, Albus. I would hate to think that we could only rescue one of them,” said Professor McGonagall.

“You heard Remus. I don’t think any of them would leave their companions to face the horrors of that world alone.”

“You’re right about that, Albus,” she sighed.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron had left the dungeons and were checking the corridor near the library where a few mirrors were set in forgotten niches and recesses along the hallway. Their spirits had risen when they had found the magical mirror in Professor Snape’s private rooms. They had half expected Snape to blast them both from the other side of the looking glass for having the audacity to enter his rooms, but instead the professor had laughed. Harry couldn’t remember ever seeing him do so. The evil potions’ master had been standing there with his arm around Hermione and laughing. It was all so very strange.

As though reading his mind, Ron asked, “What do you suppose was the matter with Snape? Hermione said he had been hurt and all, but he looked, well, happy to me, except when she told Dumbledore about him being injured.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“And?”

“They’ve been trapped in there for sometime now. Maybe it’s getting to them... mentally. I mean Hermione was looking at him like ...”

“Ew! Harry! I know, I know. But Ginny was all right.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. She can’t smile like that if something’s bothering her or if something is wrong. She just can’t.”

Harry smiled and nodded. Ginny was smiling when they saw her and that smile could not have been fake.

“Strange things happen in desperate situations,” Harry shrugged. “Maybe they all reached an understanding.”

“You know, Harry, that’s nice thought, Snape being able to get along with three Gryffindors,” mused Ron as they tested another looking glass. “Maybe he won’t take away so many points when they come back. That would be very nice, don’t you think?”

“If they come back, you mean,” said Harry, growing frustrated with their nearly fruitless search.

“What do you mean ‘if’, Harry? It is only a matter of time before we track down those mirrors,” said Ron stubbornly.

“The Founders created them a thousand years ago. One has been broken. What if the others ...”

“I see your point, but we can’t give up on them yet. I’m sure the Founders put protection spells and stuff on the mirrors. I bet one of them breaking was only a fluke or something.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Harry as they made their way down the corridor.

Minerva McGonagall walked away from the hearth in her apartment in Gryffindor Tower. She had just spoken with Molly Weasley, informing her that her daughter seemed to be just fine and that the matter of bringing her and the others home was being attended to with all possible diligence. Molly was quite relieved to hear that. Minerva wished that she could have given her more. She wished that the four of them were already safe, but that was something that might be days away, depending upon the success or failure of the search for the mirrors.

She had just finished checking the mirrors in her own apartment for the second time. If one was located in the rooms of the Slytherin head of house, why not one in the Gryffindor equivalent? But it just wasn’t so simple. Minerva had not expected it to be, but no stone was to be left unturned in the quest to bring Ginny, Hermione, Remus, and Severus home again.

Minerva sighed softly, walking from mirror to mirror, as she remembered what happened after Dumbledore and herself had brought Grindelwald back to the castle during the dark hours of the evening on the last day of April during her sixth year. It had been her wand the kept him under the Mobilicorpus spell as they took him to the dungeons of Hogwarts. In both the past and present she shuddered as she remembered the dangerous look in Grindelwald’s eyes and his distracted mumbling. He had gone mad near the end of his reign of terror, but his was still a force to be reckoned with.

A young and handsome Ministry Auror named Alastor Moody had been waiting for them in the most secluded part of the dungeons with Professor Reynard Krohn, the head of Slytherin house and potions’ professor. Krohn, a towering man with blond hair that obscured his eyes from view, had loomed over a bubbling cauldron, adding ingredients and paying no attention to anything but his craft. Albus had instructed her to put Grindelwald in the corner of the room farthest from the Auror and the professor while he had a discussion with his colleagues. She had done exactly as he had asked, guarding the mad wizard until Albus returned.

He had laid a hand on her shoulder. She knew that he could feel her trembling beneath her dirty, blood besmirched school robes. The day and night had been long and horrific. She had only endured one other that compared in her entire life, the night when the Potters had been killed. Albus’s eyes were sad as he looked at her, sad and knowing. She did not lower the wand she had pointed at Grindelwald, an incoherently mumbling form bound by magical cords. She wanted to continue to be strong and brave for Albus. She wanted him to be proud of her. Minerva didn’t know that he was already incredibly proud of her and would be for as long as they lived.

“Professor Krohn is almost ready to begin. I would like you to leave now, Minerva,” he said in a low voice in her ear.

“Why?”

“You’ve seen so much. I want to protect you from witnessing this at least.”

“You’re going to kill him,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.

“No, we are going to send him into the Founder’s prison world.”

She had gasped. She had been unable to stop herself. In those days records of the demons’ imprisonment were still kept in the history books. They had been removed later to decrease the likelihood that students would experiment with methods of taking things in or out of that realm. It had worked for half a century.

“It is the punishment that has been agreed upon. It is for the best,” Albus told her.

“I understand.”

“Then return to your dormitory, Minerva. You have been a great help tonight. I am grateful for your assistance.”

“Thank you, Albus,” she had said, finally lowering her wand.

As she left the dungeons, McGonagall could hear the cries of Grindelwald as he realized what was to become of him, and she had run the rest of the distance to Gryffindor Tower.

Her mind returned to the task at hand as she gave the mirror in the bath two sharp taps. There was no magical mirror in the chambers of the Gryffindor head of house. It was time to move her search elsewhere, perhaps to the classrooms or the other offices.

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