"So, the cup, the diadem, the ring, the locket. The diary will already have been destroyed, and he doesn't make the snake a Horcrux till after he comes back," Hermione says, quill flying across parchment. She doesn't need the list, but making them soothes her.

"And Potter," Severus says.

"And Harry." She writes his name on her list then looks up at the portrait. "You said there was an ingredient for the potion to remove the Horcrux that would be difficult to obtain."

"Yes."

"What ingredient?"

"Virgin's blood."

"But that's not difficult –" She stops, realizes. "Oh. We're not talking about the kind where the lady pricks her finger over the cauldron, then?"

"No."

"Right," she says, shuffling her papers. "Well, of the other Horcruxes, the only one that will be difficult to get is the cup."

"You've known how to brew Polyjuice for over a decade, I believe."

"Bellatrix will be in Azkaban. She couldn't just show up at Gringotts, even if we could get one of her hairs."

"Now I see why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw."

She ignores him and waits. She's learned that it's pointless to try to hurry him. He'll tell her what she wants to know eventually if she patiently sits through his snarkiness.

"Her sister has access to her vault, and I have access to Lucius and Narcissa's hair."

"Why Lucius?"

"Because you need someone who knows Narcissa to go with you and keep you from making stupid mistakes."

"I changed my mind. You are on the top ten list."

"Where do I rank?"

"Oh, maybe around six?"

"We need to talk about it, you know."

"It's my list. You don't get a say."

"Not about your list. About the only Horcrux we can't destroy with Fiendfyre or a basilisk fang."

"Don't forget the Sword of Gryffindor."

"Perish the thought," he says. "Now about the potion for Potter."

"I'll bring the book back with me and we'll brew it."

"We?"

"Your past self and I."

"And the difficult to obtain ingredient?"

"We'll get it sorted."

"I hope you don't expect my younger self to ravish some sixth year and then Obliviate her? I was a Death Eater, but there are limits to my depravity."

"Says the man who tried to make me Crucio him by getting me turned on." She claps her hand over her mouth, horrified. "Shit."

"You needn't be embarrassed. There's a connection between Dark magic and sexuality. It's one of the things that makes the Dark Arts so hard to resist, and that makes everyone susceptible."

"I've read something about that." But reading and experiencing were two different things. The unexpected jolt of arousal had come after his hexes had turned darker – not fully Dark, but definitely gray – and she had responded in kind. Arousal fueled her anger, which in turn fueled her lust, the two so tangled up she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, the blood roaring in her ears as they dueled. It had been intoxicating. She had never felt so alive, before or since. She finally understood why some witches and wizards succumbed to the Darkness.

"It doesn't always happen," Severus says. "I didn't think it would with you. I was only trying to make you angry, as I told you that day. I never imagined…"

"I couldn't believe you actually apologized. I didn't think you ever apologized for anything."

"I rarely apologize, it's true. But that…well, that was beyond the pale."

"Because even your depravity has limits," she smiles. Then, thoughtfully, she continues, "Before that I never thought arousal might be something to fear. In my mind, sex was all that nonsense that Lavender and Parvati would blather on about when I was trying to sleep. It was the clumsy, fumbling boys I'd catch pawing girls in alcoves when I was on patrol. I had no idea it was anything…like that."

"Which is why the Dark Arts calls out to it."

"What did it feel like, getting Marked? Malfoy won't talk about it."

"It hurt. Quite a lot. But there was pleasure along with the pain." He hesitates. "More pleasure than in the most intense orgasm. The kind of pleasure you spend the rest of your life chasing."

She absorbs this quietly for a few minutes. "I don't think I'll share that with the fourth years."

"No, that's NEWT level."

She smiles.

"Are you really going to let number six on your list harvest that ingredient?"

Her eyes fly to his painted ones.

"How did I know?"

"Yes."

"Because you'd be stewing and fretting and making lists otherwise. You wouldn't have told me cool as you please that we'd sort it."

She hopes she isn't blushing as much as it feels like she is.

"I'm sorry that you have to...do that."

"It's fine."

"I doubt it'll be fine with my godson. He's in love with you, you know."

"He feels about me the same way I feel about him."

"I've known him since he was in nappies, Hermione. I also know what unrequited love looks like." He makes a face. "Altogether too well."

"I won't hurt him."

"You won't be able to help it."

"If the law passes I'll marry him."

"You'll marry him because of the law. And he'll always know it."

"But there isn't going to be any law because there isn't going to be any war."

"Because you're going to go back in time and offer yourself as a virgin sacrifice to the dreaded bat of the dungeons?"

She laughs.

"We could always do it after we get back from Gringotts, while we're still Polyjuiced as Lucius and Narcissa," he says.

"You're a kinky bastard, aren't you? Or did you have a secret crush on your best friend's wife?"

"I was considering your pleasure," he says stiffly. "At least Lucius is handsome. Something I've never been accused of being."

"Like I'd let Lucius Malfoy anywhere near me," she snorts. "And what does it matter that he's handsome? Gilderoy Lockhart is handsome. Cormac McLaggen is handsome — and number five on the top ten list. I can do without handsome."

"Why does McLaggen make the list?"

"He was my date to a Slug Club party in sixth year and wouldn't stop trying to stick his slimy tongue down my throat. The memory still triggers my gag reflex." Then suddenly it hits her – not once but twice he's apologized for the situation or tried to give her an out. She always assumed he was as confident as he appeared, but… "Oh, Severus."

"What?"

"You're insecure."

"I am not insecure."

"You are. The fearsome Severus Snape is nervous about girls."

"Miss Granger…"

"Oh, it's Miss Granger again?" She grins wickedly. "You want to do teaching robes and school uniform after we're through playing Lord and Lady Malfoy?"

"Hermione," he warns in his best Professor Snape voice, but it's obviously lost its effect because she's still smiling.

"What are you going to do…give me detention?"

The absurdity of the situation finally overcomes his embarrassment and he smirks. "Just promise you won't torture my younger self like this. I don't think I could take it."

"Will your younger self, um…know what you're doing?"

"I was thirty-five years old in your fourth year. Of course I knew what I was doing." He pauses for a moment. "But you should go back in November, not at the beginning of the year."

"Why November?"

"I learned a new trick in October of that year." His voice practically drips with wicked promise. "Or, rather, I perfected one that I knew about in theory but hadn't quite mastered in practice."

Hermione blushes.

"Sauce for the goose."

"This part of the plan stays between us, right? If Albus ever finds out we're plotting my deflowering..."

"The horrid old coot won't stop cackling." His smile fades. "I just realized. This brilliant plan of yours has one glaring downside."

"What's that?"

"If I don't Avada him on the Astronomy Tower, we'll have Albus twinkling at us in your brave new world for who knows how many more years."

"Ugh."

"I know a potion you could slip him."

"I'm not doing this to become the next Dark Lady myself, you know."

"But what a Dark Lady you'd make. You're positively terrifying."

"Number four and climbing."

"But on the upside, if your plan succeeds you'll have Potter and Weasley to boss around, so you might leave me in peace."

"Or I might not."

After a moment he says, barely audibly, "I hope not."