UNTOUCHED
a story by Anette S
Disclaimer:
This is Jo's world. I just play with it, and promise to take really good care of its occupants. No money, just sleepless nights. Comments are much appreciated.
Author's note:
My search for a Beta is still ongoing. If anyone here has a suggestion of a great one, leave me a comment on the story or PM me.
As some of you might have noticed, I tend to switch from general narrative to a particular character's perspective. I always try to make it clear who it is that I am writing about and I hope you don't find it too tedious. Although I proof read each chapter, sometimes the situation may become a bit blurry. Stay with me until that issue is resolved with the help of a patient Beta. Oh, did I mention I need a Beta? Really badly? Possibly one with a britpicking talent?
Update: Oh the joys of having a Beta! And she felt really bad when she read this note! Awww… Anyways, this chapter has spent some time in her capable hands, and is a better read for it. Thank you Tzee!
Thank you so much for all your comments. It is such an encouragement to receive support after the very first chapter I posted. I will try to update this story two to three times a week until school starts. Later… well, we'll play it by ear, I guess.
Drop a comment after you read this, would you? Pretty please? This fic will stay a bit dark for a couple of chapters more, and them gradually go lighter, as our Heroine heals. I'm diving into troubled waters, but hope that the ride will be a rewarding one in the end.
Love, Anette
Chapter 1
Waiting to exhale
"Nymphadora Tonks, you have to sit down and stay still," the healer said and was met with a look that would kill a lesser man. Fortunately, Healer Jones was a man in his eighties, and had known Dora since she was a little girl.
"Don't call me that," she spat through gritted teeth but sat down on the hospital bed with an exasperated sigh.
"First, it's Lupin. Dora Lupin, if you would be so kind. And there is nothing wrong with me. I should be out there checking on…"
"Miss Granger, I know," the healer said unyieldingly. "But may I remind you that you are not a healer, and would thus be banned at the entrance? You would be more of a nuisance at this moment than a help, and I have to make sure you have been treated sufficiently well after that fight."
"Remus healed me! I was treated sufficiently well! Who gave you the idea that I would need to be checked on?"
The healer smiled. "Remus did."
She growled softly, but a small smile tugged at her lips nevertheless.
"The nerve of that man…" she mumbled as she let the healer run the diagnostic wand over her left shoulder.
Meanwhile, in the curiously unoccupied waiting room, Severus sat with his head in his hands, while Remus stood with his back propped up against the nearest wall next to the room Dora was being examined in.
"She is fine, you did a good job," Severus tried to comfort the obviously distressed man, lifting his eyes to Remus's worried gaze.
"I fear for her… I always fear. She is so often in the line of stray hexes, and it's…" Remus's words halt in his throat for a second, and there is a supportive tone in the shadowy eyes of his friend.
"I understand. I see you, you know. Both of you. It's… curious" Severus says calmly.
The definition of his marriage draws a smile onto Remus's face.
"Already throwing daggers at me? And here I thought we were making progress."
Severus shakes his head. The latent sarcasm in the werewolf's tone was nothing more than thinly veiled surprise, still, that out of all the men around him, it was Severus who had become his closest confidante.
"What? Declaring your marriage curious? I would consider it a compliment."
Remus's left eyebrow popped up and he felt the beginnings of a smile pulling at his face. He knows this trivial conversation is a farce for both of them, but he will make an effort. He must not worry about Dora now, she is receiving professional care, and Severus needs to focus on something other than Hermione.
"Explain, would you?" Remus pressed.
"First of all, you have made a conscious decision, as a couple, to invite me to live with you, in your home. That alone makes you a textbook example of curious behaviour, and it seems to be equally supported by both partners."
"An act of pure madness, I see your point. Please, do continue," Remus retorted.
Severus now felt his own thin mouth defy the gloominess of his soul, escaping and forming something resembling a smirk. For a year he was only capable of wearing a mask of seriousness and concentration on his face, broken in odd moments with a secret smile or two in the presence of Theodore Lupin.
"Well… there is the whole emancipation issue."
Remus couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Oh so you've noticed, have you?"
Severus shook his head in bemusement.
"I was born and raised in a muggle house, but the ways of the wizzarding world have become far more familiar. I have not seen a wizard and witch behave quite so…"
"… equally?" Remus offered.
"Precisely. I could not for the life of me imagine Arthur Weasley baking a cheesecake, or Molly preparing wood for the winter, and yet I have seen you and Dora do as much, and many more similarly unexpected things. You understand as much as I do that it is a great exception. But our world…" a sigh escaped him as his thoughts turned back to the young woman he held in his arms not half an hour ago "… doesn't work that way, and it's what makes you both quite, … curious."
It was babbling, they both understood, but found it necessary. Severus's words were a subtle introduction to the topic that had settled heavily on their minds.
Since the moment they accepted the possibility Hermione's magic could have been seriously depleted, they knew, even if they saved her, her life would change drastically. To lose one's magic at an adult age was considered an abomination unlike any other, and it was an extremely odd occurrence in the times before the war.
The wizarding rules of life depended on simple rituals, all firmly connected with one's magical signature and touch. It ran far deeper than the common use of housekeeping spells or traditional notions of duties befitting a man or a woman. To be without magic signified being severed from that unspoken thread of society's rituals, being an outcast, even though no one dared to say it out loud.
"Severus," Remus walked over and sat down next to him, asking him seriously "do you really believe she will be shunned if her magic doesn't return?"
Severus fixed his eyes on the row of tattered plastic chairs leaning against the opposite wall.
"I could never shun her."
Remus barked a small laugh.
"Of course, but what about the others?"
"Potter won't, he was raised a muggle. Her closest friends will be put to test. Lovegood, Longbottom, Weasley. I hope the first two have enough between their ears to stand by her. It's only Weasley that I doubt."
Remus would have loved to disagree with Severus, but he carried an equal doubt regarding Ron. The Weasley's were a loving bunch, but they have never been faced with such a change in any of their friends and family. Even with Bill being bitten, it was a lesser change than this one could be. He had to wonder how the young witch would rebuild her life without magic and perhaps without one of her closest friends.
Dora sauntered out of the examination room wearing a shoulder brace and a scowl. Remus was on his feet and by her side in a heartbeat.
"It's not broken, before you ask, and I told David repeatedly that this is completely unnecessary," Tonks explained in a flurry of words.
"I am sure it is necessary. My healing spells are not as strong as yours," Remus said, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and removing some of her scowl with it. He turned to the healer that had followed just after Dora.
"Any permanent damage?"
"Nothing to worry yourself with my boy," Healer Jones said amiably. "I distinctly remember a far more serious break young Dora here came to me with at the tender age of ten. This should heal well within a couple of days. She has her potions prescription, but should refrain from any activity with that arm. That means no chasing after lawbreaking wizards."
Ah. That would explain the scowl etched into her brow.
"You're on sick leave?" Remus asked her and she begrudgingly nodded. He felt the laugh rolling out of his lungs and before he could stop it, it burst out and bounced off the sterile waiting room walls.
She pierced him with a glare that threatened to become a 'You're sleeping in the library' look.
Remus composed himself and hugged her tenderly. "I am sorry my dear, I am not laughing at you. I'm just happy this is more for show than anything else," he said pointing to her brace. His eyes, although still shining from the impromptu burst of mirth, betrayed his worry.
The frown slid from her face and she brought her palm to gently cup his cheek. "You shouldn't worry so much. I am the resilient kind, you know," she said gently.
"It doesn't stop me from worrying," he replied softly, taking her uninjured hand from its place on his cheek and cupping it in both of his'.
"Any news?" Dora asked, turning to Severus, but letting her husband hold her hand for a few moments longer.
Severus shook his head.
"They said it will take a while for them to run more conclusive diagnostics. They're keeping her unconscious for now. Checking for spell damage…" he paused and added more quietly "… and any sign of magic."
Dora looked from Severus to Remus, and he just shrugged his shoulders.
"Did you call Harry?" she asked them.
"I have," nodded Severus. "Only Potter, and with good advice that he should come alone. I sincerely hope he will follow it, although I highly doubt it."
No sooner did the words leave his mouth than the first pops sounded in the main hall.
"Is it true? Is she alive?" the shout was heard and a moment later Harry Potter, in a what was obviously a hastily tugged-on pair of jeans and shirt barged in, closely followed by half of the Weasley family and his own wife.
"And here comes the cavalry," Severus grumbled as he stood firm to face the barrage of questions.
"Where is she?" Ron was next to repeat the pointless question. Ginny, Molly and Arthur followed.
Before Severus had a chance to growl at any of them, the firm voice of Auror Tonks calmed the buzzing of voices. There was not much of the familiar warmth and patience in the words of Dora Lupin as she slid comfortably into her business mode.
"Calm down each and every one of you. It has been a long day and we are all on the last of our nerves."
"Tonks, please," Harry says, his patience abandoned.
"How wonderful. Now he is all set to run to her rescue." Severus's voice carries from behind Dora, his smirk more bitter than usually and laced with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
"She is alive." Dora's words carry over the nervous chatter the newly arrived wizards and witches can't seem to stop at present.
The sentence, coming from her mouth as a final confirmation makes Ron finally lose it, and he staggers to the nearest chair.
"We found her, checked the vitals, and transported her here. She is being examined for physical as well as magical damage. She is still, as far as we know, unconscious. I can't tell you more."
Harry seemed bewildered.
"Can't tell me more? Are you serious? We all thought she was dead, and you can't even tell me where she was? How you found her?"
"Not all of us gave up on her, Potter," Severus cut in, keeping his voice as quiet and sharp as possible, "and yes, Auror Tonks is serious. This is a major case and the details of it will not be revealed to anyone at this hour."
Harry's eyes burn into Severus accusingly, but a cold glare back from the dark man makes the boy who lived turn his gaze away.
Molly has in the meantime found a seat next to her youngest son, and her hand is resting in comfort on his shoulder.
Ginny is leaning on her father, resembling more a little girl than a young Mrs Potter at the moment.
The soft buzzing of silencing spells placed on the emergency ward entrance only serves to heighten the vastly present feelings of inadequacy and failure among the present few.
"Severus, this is a high profile Ministry case. Surely some detail will be revealed," Arthur's voice of reason finally breaks the palpable tension.
He doesn't intend to reveal anything to anyone, but he is silenced unfortunately by the words of his friend.
"Arthur," Remus steps in looking pointedly at Severus "you are right. There will be some general detail revealed, but we can't tell you much at this moment. We can," he sends another look of warning to Severus "tell you that she was in captivity for a long time at the same place where we found her. We are not sure if she had been held somewhere else before, but the last half of the year she spent there. It was a secluded farm house, highly protected by repellent charms and dark spells. It was practically invisible on the wizarding maps, and we can say it was a stroke of luck and the death eater's lack of attention of renewing the charms in a timely fashion that finally led us there. She was held by three of the runaway Death Eaters, we do believe them to be the last three the Ministry has been searching for. Two are dead, and one has been detained."
He lowers his eyes as well as his voice. For a couple of long moments the only sounds filling the silence are the incessant ticking of the old hospital clock and the drone of Muffliato farther back.
"She is alive, but she has been through hell and back. Tortured in all ways imaginable." He pauses, drawing his fingers through his matted ash-blond hair in a gesture of pure exhaustion. For a moment he looks so old.
"I can't tell you more about her condition, we are all waiting for the team of Healers to give us a report. We are still here in the official capacity."
His eyes meet Arthur's.
"I have already told you too much, and I trust you can keep it to yourself. We do not want the press knowing about her rescue for as long as possible."
The crowd gathered around Lupin listened intensely to his every word, as the calm-voiced wizard did a stellar job of processing a night from Hell into cold facts.
"All we can do is sit and wait for the Healers to arrive," Dora said as she herself took a seat and pulled Remus beside her.
Severus chose the opposite wall and stood silently brooding and observing the crowd. His thoughts ran frenetically over the events of last year. With agitation he recalled the moments of near capture, and how the tossers slipped through their fingers. He remembered the shriek of Molly Weasley as the hand on the family clock carrying Hermione's face fell off the post. He can still hear the infantile cries of Ron Weasley as he lamented the death of his 'girlfriend', and Harry's desolate expression as he desperately searched the confirmation of the truth in his eyes.
Harry's eyes find Severus's now, and there is a realization in them, as shame floods the younger man's features. He gave up too quickly. His head falls in disgrace and tears sting his eyes. He failed her. They all failed her.
Severus observes the boy who he protected for the worse part of his life, and as Harry stands up and walks over to Severus, he is not surprised. He expects it, probably knowing Harry better than even the boy himself is aware of. He motions to a more secluded area in the waiting room, and Harry silently follows.
"Severus…" Harry starts quietly; his voice laden with guilt.
"Don't," Severus stops him before he can dive headlong into self pity.
"I let her down. We all have…"
"I said don't. She is alive, and that alone is a miracle."
Harry's gaze lifts to the older man's.
"Tell me."
Severus shakes his head.
"You don't want to know."
"I do. I have to know. They…" he glances hastily to the still seated Weasley's "… perhaps they can't stomach whatever it is that you are not telling us, but you must… tell me. Tell me Severus, please."
There is such misguided strength in his tone that Severus almost feels sorry to inflict upon the boy so much added pain. But there is also that irritating self assurance that he is the "chosen one", and that, even after the war, he is stronger and more capable to stomach the cruelties of life.
"Harry, no," Severus says once more, but it's useless. He knows he won't back away now.
"What did they do to her?" Harry whispers tersely, his eyes unyielding as he holds Severus's scowl.
"Raped," Severus spits in harsh vindictiveness "brutally and repeatedly."
He fixes his eyes on Harry, and finds his green eyes locked in blind vengeance.
"Beaten," he continues, and his jaw clenches as he says the word.
He shuts his eyes.
Harry prepares for more.
"Crucio-ed." The word barely slips off Severus's lips, and Harry's hands clench into fists. "Probably imperio-ed as well, and severely malnourished."
Severus looks up, and he knows his every word is hurting the boy deeply. He knows, but he has to tell him. Hermione will need Harry to know it all. So he continues.
"There was evidence of abortion. Her magic is depleted. Completely. She was unconscious when we found her, shackled and discarded as a used toy."
Severus feels the ache in his chest as deeply as he sees it unfurling inside of Harry. In a rare display of sympathy, he takes him by his upper arm and leads him to a chair a bit farther from the rest of the waiting crowd.
Harry is speechless. He is trying to grasp the extent of Hermione's suffering, but he comes up empty-handed. His eyes search Severus's again, and this time, he seems more like a lost child than a married, albeit young, man.
Severus turns to face Harry; detached from the rest of the world.
"Listen to me, as carefully as you can muster."
Harry nods.
"What I told you has to remain only between us. It would be unnecessarily cruel to divulge those details to anyone. I also believe that young Mr. Weasley there should be spared, for the time being, not because I particularly care about his emotional state, but that I am convinced his ability to detain words said in confidence is poor at best. Hermione is alive, and she will wake up. There is no physical reason for her not to. We should be most concerned about her mental state, but that too, judging by her magic depletion has been, I hope, saved."
"What do you mean, judging by her magic depletion?"
Severus's voice is grave.
"I do believe she was brought to a precipice and forced upon a choice. And she chose her sanity. It is the only reason I can think of to see her magic so heavily drained. I have witnessed this occurrence before."
"You saw wizards choose their sanity over their magic?" Harry asked.
"No. But I have witnessed many times wizards choosing their magic over their sanity. In fact, it is how the Dark Lord managed to build such a strong following. You have to understand; torture is a very persuasive way of getting what you want.
"But Hermione is such a powerful witch, I can't imagine…"
"Then don't. Just know that she has, in my opinion, sacrificed all of her power to keep her head, and has suffered profusely for it."
"But we will be able to help her? She can heal?" Harry asks, hope showing itself again in the depths of his eyes as it so often did during the darkest of times in his past.
Severus looks into the eyes of the boy who defined his life for so long and his words are careful, measured when he speaks next.
"Harry," and it is in these rare moments when he calls him by his first name that Severus feels his debt to Lily has been laid to rest "it will be a long road for her. If her sanity is intact, she will still have tremendous psychological damage. We can help her, but be aware that by helping her you, and all of you who choose to stand by her, will need to stand firm and revise your previous definitions of all you have shared."
He stops, giving the younger man a moment to absorb his words.
"The best I can tell you is that she might heal if two conditions are met. First, if she chooses to, for it has been known that some of the victims of prolonged torture choose to stay in the safety of a catatonic state rather than face the pain. Second, if she chooses to face it, she still went through it, and here she will need space, and support, but most of all, respect. You have to understand that the girl you knew is, sadly, deeply buried under layers of protection. It takes bravery, cunning, knowledge, and deep loyalty to what is good to manage the protection of one's soul in such a dark hour. And it has been a dark year for her."
"She kept us safe, you know…. When we were on the run that last year. Ron and I… we were a mess, would have been caught in two days if it weren't for her," Harry says, speaking only to say something. But he understands.
"I was so afraid, having Voldemort in my head, the evil omnipresent and haunting me. But I had them, and it pulled me up every time." His eyes are fixed now on Severus. "You have been in those shoes, for far longer than I was. You can help her as well."
"And I shall, to the best of my ability," Severus said solemnly.
"What was it for you? And don't tell me it was any different. I know the despair it causes. What pulled you up?"
"I had an obligation to fulfil," Severus's voice is guarded, but soft.
"You can't tell me it was obligation that pulled you out of his darkness," Harry's voice is equally guarded, respectful. They have spoken before, about everything, and it had been a cathartic experience. Still, he treads slowly, in awe of the dark man before him.
"No, it was not simply obligation, you know that Harry. It was… a memory of a happy woman, a life lost but a soul that kept demanding of me to do better, to rise above it. For a long time it was enough. Your mother…" his voice lingers.
Harry can't help but fix Snape with his watery green eyes at the mention of Lily. But the dark man lets a sigh fall from his lips and closes his eyes in respect of a memory, and then he is back in the present moment. Lily stays in the past.
Severus clears his throat. "As time went on, I was fortunate enough to find my silver lining. It…" he pauses, and another kind of gentleness washes over his face. It is so private that Harry dares not observe it long, but still he notices.
"Dumbledore?" Harry asks quietly.
Severus shakes his head in disappointment. "No. The old bat failed me, used me too much and gave too little back, even though I deserved, but asked for anything. No. It was another witch, who gave me the pure love a mother bestows upon her child."
"Poppy?" Harry whispers.
"Minerva."
A smile sneaks on both of their faces, small, but present, as each man recalls the old Scottish gal with utmost respect and deep love.
"Figures," Harry finally whispers.
They notice the team of Healers approach the double doors and are up on their feet, their rapid rise from their seats alerting the rest of the gathered witches and wizards.
"Aurors Lupins, Master Snape, an audience if you would," a tall man announces, completely ignoring the rest of the rapidly gathered souls.
They approach the healers and converse quickly, then turn to the crowd. The same tall healer now turns to the Potters, who are standing clinging to each other in support, and the Weasleys mimic their body language. Ron Weasley seems lost in space, but steps up.
"We have been given permission to inform you of Ms. Granger's state. A wizarding oath is required before we proceed. Wands out, if you please."
They all do as he requires, and swear to keep secret the status of the patient.
"My name is Healer Buxton. I have been the head of the team that examined Ms. Granger upon her arrival. We have determined the seriousness of her injuries and I am pleased to inform you that, judging by our scans, she should be sentient when we wake her. Her physical state is, surprisingly, better than it could be expected in such cases. It is an extremely rare occurrence to survive such an ordeal, let alone find one's way out of it with all limbs intact. We have administered prolonged healing charms, and repaired the tissue distorted under the repeated use of Crucio."
A gasp escapes Molly, but the rest are still keeping a straight face. The three Aurors know what is to come, and their eyes cloud over with the images of the horrific sight they discovered while first entering the shed.
"You are under oath, and Aurors Lupins have convinced me that you are as close of a family Ms Granger has, so I shall continue in more detail now. You have to understand that it is a miracle she is alive, and an even greater miracle she is, or appears to be, sane. She has suffered physical abuse of the worst kind. The prolonged exposure to sexual violence has led to two pregnancies, both terminated by the combination of dark curses and potions."
The Healer pauses and Harry's eyes meet Severus's.
"She is completely magically drained. We cannot, at present time, detect any magic within her body. She is, for now, as equally magically inept as a squib would be, with the difference that the body will still remember the feel of magic when it was present, and feel the loss of it most acutely. She has a long road ahead of her, and will be placed in a special, isolated room at the Janus Thickey ward, for even though she suffers no brain damage, we believe the ward is best suited to further determine the permanency of her magical damage."
"Now," the healer turns to the Aurors, "I am optimistic that we can wake her up soon. It would be advisable that she sees someone extremely soothing when she wakes up. We have to avoid all agitation, and prevent any chance of her getting upset over anything, no matter how big or small. Do you have a suggestion as to who the person to be present when we rennervate her should be?"
Severus sees Ron stepping out, but even before he can deny the foolish suggestion, Harry puts his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"No Ron," Harry whispers quietly. "We must not upset her. She will be happy, ecstatic even to see either one of us; it will hurt her more than help her just now."
"But Harry, she would love to see us, I'm sure!" Ron exclaims, even though his head is still reeling from the discovery of the extent of Hermione's' torture.
"Ron, Harry is right," Arthur steps and pulls his son back.
"Who then?" Ron manages to squeeze out of his shuddering mouth. The truth is finally sinking in, and Harry can see it. They are all shaken speechless.
Harry's eyes find Severus again, and he gives him an almost imperceptible nod.
"Minerva," Harry says, and Severus lowers his head in thanks.