Chapter One: The Last of Us

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any part, the characters and the HP universe all still belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Last I checked. * sighs in disappointment *

A/N: Welcome! This is my first crack at a full length story. Time travel with a twist! I tried to put my own spin on it though. Please let me know what you think! Also I apologise in advance if any translations are incorrect or in the wrong context, I don't speak any second languages, I just use Google Translate. But feel free to correct me, I welcome constructive criticism!

It's our only chance. Hermione filled her lungs with a deep, steadying breath before continuing in her gruelling task. The rune circle had to be painted with the blood of the person, in this case people, participating in the ritual. The circle was around seven feet in diameter, made up of hundreds of tiny, indecipherable markings carved into the cold stone floor. The ritual had required so much blood, that it had taken her weeks to collect the required amount, a little at a time, from both of them . Sweat dripped from her brow, leaving track marks in the dirt and grime that covered her face. She had been preparing for this for so long, but now that they were minutes away from accomplishing their goal, she felt no sense of relief or achievement. Only dread and pure fear. Her hands were shaking violently and she had to grit her teeth to force herself to proceed with the final few runes without making a mess of them.

It's our only chance.

But what if I fail?

It's our only chance. Our only choice.

Round and around the thoughts swam around her head, making her feel dizzy and weak. Or maybe that was the hunger? She was too tired to care.

"Hermione, stop. I can physically feel you worrying from over here, it's giving me a headache."

She looked up at the boy, and gave him a weak smile, before finally standing up to step back and examine her work.

"I'm sorry Harry, it's just, I've never done anything this complex before and-"

"I know" he said tensely, before running a grubby hand through his messier than usual hair, "but I have faith in you, you've never steered us wrong yet."

This last was said with what she thought was supposed to be a comforting smile, but came out as more of a pained grimace.

Hermione didn't blame him, she didn't know how to smile anymore either.

"Thank for saying that, but you know what's at stake here. If I get this wrong, then-"

Harry cut her off sharply, "If you get this wrong, we'll both be dead and then it won't matter. Either way, there's nothing left here for us"

Hermione nodded silently. He was right, they had to do this. Even death was far better than living in this hellish place, this living nightmare which held nothing but unending grief, pain, hunger and the knowledge that there would be no waking up from it.

She thought back to all those that they had lost. It started with Cedric. Then Sirius and Dumbledore, Mad-Eye and Fred and Tonks and Remus.

It only got worse after the battle. Riddle was gone, but his followers outnumbered theirs and they couldn't overcome the Death Eaters. Turns out they couldn't hide from them or outrun them either. IT took them two years to get everyone. Ron was the last Weasley to go, only two months ago.

Then it was Teddy. Hermione's stomach rolled in sickening waves thinking of the terrible fate of the once beautiful, chubby-cheeked baby boy and his doting grandmother.

That was it for Harry, he had done everything in his not inconsiderable power to keep them safe for two long years, and it still wasn't enough.

She watched his shoulders slump and the light dim from his eyes as he cradled the tiny body in his arms, and she knew that they had finally broken him. He no longer cared if he lived or died. In fact, he'd welcome it like an old friend, like his ancestor before him.

That was when she knew she had to do something, she had to get them out of this life.

She had to fix it.

Six Weeks Earlier

Sneaking into Hogwarts had been depressingly easy. None of the Death Eaters knew or cared about the secret entrance from the Hog's Head. None of them bothered with either place since they had killed the life inside and looted their remains.

Hermione had brought a reluctant Harry along for the ride. He didn't see what good it would do to come there now, but was unwilling to let her go alone so there he was. He almost instantly regretted his decision.

Walking through the corridors was like their own personal torture. Wandering through the crumbling remains of the first home Harry had ever known, and the first place that either of them had found a place to belong felt like another knife wound in their already bleeding chests.

Once they finally stood in the centre of the all too familiar circular office, Harry was amazed by how untouched it was there were papers still stacked neatly on the desk and a black the pensieve glowing gently on its stand in the corner, and a vast collection of books still filled the bookcases all around the place. If it weren't for the thick layer of dust covering everything, he could've almost believed that he was back in sixth year, ready to watch another fascinating, but ultimately useless, memory of an adolescent Tom Riddle.

Almost.

But there was a thick layer of dust, and the smell of neglect, and the hollow ache of hunger in his stomach and an identical one in his heart. He wanted to pretend, even for a moment , that nothing had changed.

But everything had changed. Harry swallowed hard, ignoring the painful lump in his throat and the sting behind his eyes as he tried to block out the horrors that threatened to overtake him.

While he was trapped in his musings, Hermione had made her way over to the thick, deep purple curtain behind the Headmaster's desk and pulled hard on the golden chord attached to one side, releasing a massive cloud of dust.

Harry's head shot up at the sound of a multitude of voices coughing and spluttering loudly, before one unpleasantly familiar voice cut harshly over the top of them all.

"Oh stop being ridiculous. You're all dead, you can't breathe never mind cough. Bloody drama queens."

The last part was muttered bitterly, by a surly, hook-nosed man with dark hair, still greasy even in his portrait.

"Oh, Professor Snape! I didn't know that you had a portrait here!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise.

"It wasn't by choice Miss Granger I assure you. Albus insisted. Now unless you require my presence I will be going now."

"Erm, well, no. We actually came to speak to Professor Dumbledore" she explained, searching the wall for his likeness.

Harry just shook his head, still uncomfortable around the man after learning of the nature of his affections for Lily.

The man nodded his head slightly in return, before turning around and exiting the frame, robes billowing behind him as much in death as they had in life,

The two teens looked at each other uncertainly then, unsure of what to do next. That was until they heard another, more welcome, voice sound out from the far left side of the room, from a frame Hermione was sure had been empty moments before.

"Ah, Harry. Miss Granger, I heard that you wished to speak with me? My apologies for keeping you waiting, I had just popped out for a spot of tea and croquet with the Fat Lady. How can I be of assistance?"

Harry stared back in disbelief, maybe not everything had changed after all then? Dumbledore was still the irrepressible oddball he had always been, and he wasn't sure whether to feel comforted or annoyed by that fact.

He settled on comforted, it wasn't truly Dumbledore after all, just an imprint. Less than the Riddle from the diary. It seemed fairly irrational to be angry at oil paint and varnish, after all.

Hermione, it appeared, did not agree.

"Oh you're sorry for being late. What an absolutely horrible crime. Sending children to their certain deaths is nothing in comparison!"

She laughed derisively then, looking more than a bit unhinged, and muttering under her breath. The portrait had the good grace to look ashamed at her words, if not a little taken aback that it was she who had spoken them.

"sorry for being late, of all the stupid, fucking insignificant-"

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed loudly in surprised at her choice of language, snapping her out of her angry ramblings.

"Oh. Yes. Right. Anyway Headmaster" she began with ice dripping from her tone, "I'm here about the instructions you left in the back of the Tales of Beedle the Bard." She said this blankly, without a hint of hesitation. This was not a question, it was a statement of fact.

The Headmaster went pale, a look as grave as Harry had ever seen him wear etched upon his face.

And that was really saying something, when one considers that he was already dead.

"Are you quite certain Miss Granger?" he asked sharply

"Of course I am." she scoffed, "I wouldn't risk coming back here if I wasn't"

"I need you to be specific. How bad have things gotten? It is rather difficult to get news as a portrait you know."

She chuckled darkly then "Yes I imagine it is. Not pleasant to be left in the dark is it Headmaster?"

He inclined his head in acknowledgement of her jibe.

Harry watched this whole byplay with discomfort. After everything they had gone through, he couldn't say that he disagreed with his friend, but it stilled seem wrong in some childishly innocent part of his brain to hear Hermione Granger talk to a teacher with such obvious disdain.

But then again, neither of them are the same people that they once were.

"Headmaster, I'm not sure what's going on here, but you have to help Hermione with whatever it is. There's nothing left to lose at this point. No point in holding anything back in reserve for later. We- the two of us I mean- are the only ones left"

He said this quietly, his head and shoulders slumped , as if dragged down by the weight of his unexpressed emotions.

The portrait looked stricken, a small tear running down its perfectly rendered cheek. For the first time in his life, words seemed to have failed him. When he finally did decide to speak it was only to speak one word.

"Ariana"

It must have been a password of some kind, as the second the word left his mouth the portrait began to swing forward, to reveal tiny hole in the wall that seemed to contain a single sheet of parchment.

Hermione reached out to grab it slowly, reverently, before placing it inside the back cover of the battered old book of fairytales and then placing it inside her ever-present beaded bag. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief and then moved the portrait back into place.

"Thank you." she said simply.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger. Now you have the ritual, there are a few matters that we must discuss urgently. First and foremost, being the when. Now I have looked at all of the angles and I feel that the best course- Wait! Where are you going?"

The Headmaster and Harry wore identical looks of shock as Hermione headed for the door, not caring to hear the end of the sentence.

"Miss Granger it really is vitally important that you listen to what I have to say. There is a delicate balance one which must be maintained."

"No. I will not listen to you " she said, steel running through her voice now.

Hermione had turned around cold hard fury marring her usually pretty features and turning them into stone.

"Not anymore" she continued, "I believed in you before, we both did. We did every. single. fucking. Life-threatening, traumatising, horrific thing that you asked of us. And where has it gotten us? Starvation, deprivation, cold, pain. Everyone we love, hell, everyone we know, is dead. And it hasn't stopped. More people are dying every day, and they die without hope, or justice. And that is just the tip of the iceberg of what's going on out there."

Harry was crying now, hot fat tears spurting down his cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably. Two years worth of unshed tears making their escape while Hermione systematically and completely tore down the man who was partly to blame for the burdens his life had placed upon him.

"Snape lied for you and spied for you. Harry died for you. Good men and women lost their lives because they believed in your so called plans. But I see you Albus Dumbledore" She spat, voice cutting through the silence of the room like a hot knife "Your 'plans' are nothing more than manipulations, and your loyal followers only pawns in the fight for your 'Greater Good'. Well I'm through with it. I'm through with you." She looked at Harry, sitting in a ball on the floor underneath the portrait now, her expression softening slightly.

"He's done with you too." She said quietly, helping him off the cold, hard floor and heading towards the door. "I'm never letting you near him ever again. Boys are not weapons" She locked eyes with Snape then, who had returned to his portrait at some point during her tirade. Her tone was firm, with an air of finality to it. She walked quickly and quietly out of the room then, arm around Harry's waist to support him, she never looked back or waited for a reply.

If she had, she may have been stunned to see A dark haired man staring at her for the first time with a fierce expression of approval and a hint that was, unmistakably, admiration

********************************

Back to Now

"You're right Harry, there's nothing here for us. Let's do this."

Remembering how angry, how righteous, how desperate and miserable she had felt that day and every moment since, her resolve was returned to her.

Harry nodded stiffly at her, trying to keep his composure in tact. That lasted for all of ten seconds before he rushed towards her, gathered her in his arms and hugged her for dear life.

"Listen, even if this works I know that there's no way of knowing where we'll end up, or who we'll be. It could be a very long time until we see each other and I just need you to know that love you. You're my best friend, nothing can change that. Not time or space or death. Trust me I would know." He said with a laugh. A real laugh. The first one since Teddy. She knew then that he didn't really expect this to work, he expected to die.

She did too, in all honesty, but his sheer joy at the prospect made her depressed.

"I love you too. I'll miss you. I hope that wherever we end up, we get there together, but if we don't, please remember that you're never alone. That you are my family always."

She squeezed his right hand tightly with her left and tried hopelessly to get his hair to stay flat with the other. She let him go and stepped back to glare at the chaotic black mop on top of his head as if it had done her some personal affront just by existing.

"Dear god I hope you have better hair. In fact- I hope that we both do!" she muttered mutinously, blowing a stray curl away from her face, making him laugh again,

They held hands once again as they stepped inside the ritual circle, lighting the candles around the outer edge with their wands wordlessly as they did so, sealing them in. The runes around them started to glow a bright, hot orange, and the ambient magic of the forest started to permeate the air around them. It pulsed and thrashed about the circle wildly, angry at whoever had summoned it, it pressed down upon the two young magicals like a physical presence, forcing them to their knees, demanding they explain themselves. Simply put, the amount of power here was suffocating.

It was necessary, however. The amount of power required for this type of ritual was immense. Far more than two teens could achieve alone. That's why they had decided from the offset that Hogwarts was the only place in Britain that they would stand a chance of making this work. The old castle was steeped in magic, hundreds of years worth soaked up within is walls.

"Harry it's time! Do you remember The wand movements?"

He nodded resolutely, with a determined glint in his emerald green eyes . Hermione tried to borrow some confidence from her best friend, but her hands had started to shake anew.

It's our only chance.

She repeated this like a mantra as she begun silently waving and twirling her wand around in a series of complex manoeuvrers, while Harry mirrored her exactly as they faced each other in the middle of the circle, power still swirling around them.

She steadied herself once more and together they began to chant:

"Morgana, Hecate, Circe, Nimue, Cassandra, Emrys, invocabo te mutata fatum tempore motisunt, accipere hoc munus, de nove vitae dare nobis"

Twice more they chanted, Their voices increasing in volume until they were practically screaming to be heard above the gathering wind as the air around them pressed down still harder upon them . In unison they reached for the knife they each carried in their belts for this very occasion, lifting them up to their necks, hands shaking with fear and adrenaline as they drew them across their own throats, painting hideous red smiles . They slumped to the ground as one, their life's blood soaking into the floor as they lay coughing, sputtering dying,

Until everything went black, and they knew no more.

*********************************************************

St Mungo's Hospital, London, 31st July 1959

"Orion will you stop your incessant fussing I am fine!" A woman snapped nastily, managing to sound haughty even through her obvious exhaustion. A dark haired man shuffled hastily away from her bedside.

"As should you be, more than fine, in fact" Another female voice interrupted, sounding just as superior and unpleasant, "You should be proud to carry on the name and the legacy of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black"

Walburga Black hummed politely in agreement, too tired to do anything more.

"And what an heir he shall be Wally!" exclaimed the man imperiously, clearly extremely enamoured with his new son. "What shall we name him?" he asked, giving that honour to his wife.

She smiled a rare smile as she declared, "He will be called Cepheus. Cepheus Pollux Black" before she promptly

"A good, strong name for a strong boy" said the second woman , nodding as she rocked the not quite asleep child back and forth gently.

"Yes, clearly he has the look of a Black about him, and those eyes, have you ever seen anything like it on a babe so young? The young ladies won't stand a chance!" He chuckled merrily.

The woman stared down at her grandson lovingly, mesmerised by his emerald green orbs staring back at her with half lidded eyes. She quite agreed with Orion's assessment, the were quite stunning.

And so very distinctive too.

Spinners End, Cokeworth, England, 9th January 1960

"Come on love, that's it, just one more. You're doing so well, I can see the baby's head now... And another really big push... There we are! You did it! That's it little love."

A dark haired woman lay crying and utterly worn out on a blood stained mattress in a modestly appointed home, she had just had the most tiring night of her life and had noone around to help her. Her husband certainly wasn't. Probably out drinking all the housekeeping money again, The woman looked terrible. She was too pale, too thin, and had finger mark bruises all over her arms and one massive one her neck that stood out starkly against her unnatural pallor.

Maude Overstreet, midwife for over thirty years, felt sorry for the woman. She knew that this would be a pattern that would continue for a long time to come, she had seen too many cases like this one before. As was a woman's lot in life, she supposed.

Oh well, best not to get involved, she sighed sadly, cleaning and wrapping the mewling baby in front of her in a blanket. She wished them a silent good luck as she handed the little boy over to his mother.

"Here, little one, go have a cuddle with your mum and sister" she cooed, as she gathered her equipment up into her aluminium carry case.

"They are beautiful babies, and look at her with all them curls! Got any names in mind?" she inquired, always interested to hear the weird and wonderful creations parents could come up with. They had a pool going back at the hospital to see who could find the strangest. Bloomin' Betty Andrews had won three times in a row now!

"Severus" Eileen said softly, staring tenderly at her new son, "And Hermione" she said, just as reverently. She stared at the two babies in disbelief, crying for a different reason now. She didn't quite know how something so hateful and ugly as her marriage, could create something so wonderful and pure. She was overflowing with love for her two new children, and vowed silently to do the best that she could for them from that moment.

"Right, er, lovely" Maude responded, before taking her leave. She rushed off to see if she could catch Betty before her shift ended, she was sure she had this one in the bag. She was already thinking of the new shoes she would buy with her winnings. Severus and Hermione Snape, thank you very much indeed!

A/N: So, that's chapter one! I haven't had it beta'd or anything so it may be riddled with errors, if it is, feel free to point them out. Please let me know what you think, is it terrible, do you want to see more?

Thanks,

SJ