Midnight drifted over Hogwarts castle and found five souls unable to sleep. Ron had crept over to Harry's room and the two boys sat upon Harry's bed talking quietly. They were both looking forward to returning home despite the shadow of Voldemort that waited for them. Ron missed his family and Harry who had only just recently learned of his godfather, wanted to return in the hopes of seeing Sirius Black again. Their enforced isolation from the students in this time was also getting on their nerves.

Hermione sat quietly in her room in a plush chair by the fireplace. There was an open book in her lap, but her attempt to read it had failed. As she stared into the flames she was able to re-awaken the feeling of Draco's embrace and the feather-light kiss upon her lips. She desperately wanted to yell at herself for such foolishness. Was she a mad thing to have pledged her friendship to a boy who might one day follow in his father's footsteps and turn into an evil monster capable of killing her?

She wanted to brush such dire thoughts from her head, but this was the reality of her world. Death Eaters and Voldemort. Draco's family was in the center of that evil, as were many of the parents whose children were in Slytherin House. She could well understand his desire to stay and that is where her heart beat tightly within her chest. Hermione wanted to go home because she loved her parents. She had to know that they were safe. Then again, would they not be safer without her presence?

In his room, Draco sat by the window looking out across the moonlit landscape of Hogwarts. Was it a coincidence that his window looked across the mountains toward Wiltshire, England where his family's home existed? He wondered what his great-grandparents were like that were living there now. His parents constantly drummed into his head that his family had much to be proud for, but he couldn't honestly say just what exactly it was they were proud of beyond their wealth and influence.

Draco did not miss his parents and he certainly had no love for any of the Slytherins. They were there to cater to his whims, not to be his friends. He could barely admit to himself that since going back in time and being forced to spend nearly every hour with Potter and Weasley that he'd discovered he liked them. And then there was Hermione. Draco did not question having broken down in front of the girl or having kissed her. He would certainly never, EVER allow anyone in his house to know about it, but the simple fact was, even before he'd known that she was Muggle born, he had found her fascinating. It was a fascination that he'd had to actively quell with insults and constant dirty and hateful looks. This was in no small part an act to both protect himself and her, for if his father ever were to discover that his son, his pureblood heir, liked a Mudblood girl, Lucius Malfoy would have Hermione killed and Draco would be beaten within an inch of his life.

No. Draco Malfoy did not want to return to the 20th century. His greatest fear was to be caught on the wrong side of the war, fighting in something he had no belief in and fighting for a madman who wouldn't think twice about wiping his existence from this earth. He wished in his heart that Professor Snape was unable to find them a way back home. He wanted a life here.

Severus Snape had vacated his quarters nearly an hour ago. An insomniac and a workaholic by nature, when sleep eluded him he chose to prowl the shadowed halls of the castle.

He was annoyed at the waste the day had been. He had hoped that Professor Grailing held some knowledge of the wild portal within the forbidden corridor, some trick up his sleeve. The forbidden corridor had been nothing but a small adventure that had wasted most of the day.

Then, there was Lyrica Arcahnum. Not since Lily Evans had he even dared to hope that someone worthy of his attention might feel the same way toward him. He was captivated by the woman and wished to pursue the mutual attraction. Yet, he was constantly drawn back to the fact that he had no right to even dream of the possibilities. Not when he had to do his best to find a way home.

With his robes billowing behind him and blending into the shadows, he strode purposefully down corridors, up and down staircases long familiar to him. He did not stop until his path took him to the gallery between the owlery and the Astronomy tower. Once near the middle, he stopped his walk and leaned against the open window as the wind blew around him. He did not pay attention as his long, black hair was blown across the bridge of his long nose.

Snape needed the cool wind to give him clarity. He was dreading the possible return to their present. Not that he'd looked at all forward to becoming the sole parent of his four students; that would have been cruel of Fate to saddle him with that responsibility. What awaited him in the year of 1994 was a life that had been slowly breaking him down.

His loyalty to Dumbledore and to the Order of the Phoenix was without question. He was protector of the Boy Who Lived and he was a spy who delicately juggled the whims of a madman with the needs of those who would one day destroy that madman. Snape generally could not sleep because of what he knew of his own future in the world terrified by Voldemort's shadow; death. If by some slim chance he were to survive, he would then be in hiding for the remainder of his cursed life. There were too many dreamers, those complacent thinkers that believed with the death of Voldemort all would be well and beautiful. Life after a war was picking up the pieces, dealing with years of fallout; that meant those loyal to Voldemort who had survived as well would be hunting traitors. Snape would someday be a traitor in their eyes.

Here, in 1898, there was freedom. There was also anonymity. With no one to know of his dark past he could become the man he had always wanted to be. There would be no ghosts to haunt his dreams. Here he would be free to love someone, to make a life and have a family.

Snape snorted as he pictured himself surrounded by a bunch of brats. Well, maybe the idea of a family was a bit much to consider. But being able to love someone... it was a dream he could never allow in the present.

No, Severus Snape did not want to return to the 20th century anymore than Draco did. He would, though. Just as Potter had a destiny to fulfill, so did Snape and he would not allow his own desires to get in the way of his destiny.