Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! This chapter's pretty long (you're welcome) so I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think or if you have any comments/questions! Enjoy!
When Hermione was young, years before she would even learn about Hogwarts, she remembered her parents taking her to the park one summer day. There was a heatwave that left the metal climbing frames hot to the touch. Hermione can remember climbing one particular wall and the higher she climbed, the more the metal burned beneath her young hands. After a misplaced step, and a too-hot bar, Hermione slipped.
She can remember the panic and fear when she lost grip of the wall and felt the impact of the unforgiving ground beneath her spine. The air left her body in one painful rush and Hermione was left on the ground, gasping and writhing.
That feeling is the closest Hermione had to compare how it felt as she writhed beneath the Dark Lord's touch. At the memory of the Dark Lord, Hermione felt her heart jump in her chest and she struggled to open her eyes when her eyelids felt full of lead.
Suddenly, images flooded her brain from the last few hours she could recall. Hermione was not one to act without first thinking, but as she saw Professor Snape sweeping down the stairs, she couldn't help herself but reach out to him, and as the Dark Lord later ripped through her mind, she fought back the urge to reach out to him once again. But when she found herself at Professor Snape's feet, she could not find that same compassion or urge to act within his dark, burning eyes. Her memories beyond that are dark and drenched in pain.
Winning the battle against her heavy lids, Hermione forced her eyes to open and found herself looking up at a tiled ceiling, recognizing it as the ceiling of the Hospital Wing. I'm at Hogwarts? Hermione thought dully. There were voices, low and murmuring, but Hermione could not distinguish their words.
"How nice to see you awake, Miss Granger. Miss Granger?" A deep, soothing voice drifted through Hermione's mind slowly. She blinked heavily and turned her head to the side. Her vision was blurred slightly, from sleep, she assumed, but she could make out a grey form at the foot of her bed.
Sitting up slowly to rest higher on the pillows, Hermione realized just how heavy and achy her body was. From far away, Hermione heard a painful moan and realized belatedly that it was hers.
"It is best if you don't move, Miss Granger, not for a while at least," A soft voice spoke as a pair of twinkling blue eyes moved in to view. Headmaster Dumbledore.
Hermione's mind, though dizzy and pain-idled, began to race with questions, as did her pulse.
Dumbledore, ever-perceptive, sensed her confusion and magically moved the old armchair he sat in closer to the head of her bed. Hermione's felt him take her hand in his larger one and saw the compassion that radiated from his eyes.
"Miss Granger, you have been through a very traumatic experience, tonight. It seems you were accidentally transported to a meeting of - "
"Death Eaters. I remember," Hermione said, her voice raspier and sharper than he intended. She lowered her gaze apologetically before the Headmaster but he just patted her hand understandingly, "What happened after that?"
After Hermione asked the question, she felt a fear settle in her chest and glanced down at her hand cupped in Dumbledore's. Half of her desperately wanted to know and understand what took place a the meeting and why she was in the Hospital Wing, and another part of her was terrified of the knowledge. Some deep and instinctual part of Hermione knew that once she was told the truth, her life would change.
Hermione lowered her gaze from hers and the Headmaster's hands, and for the first time noticed the bandages that covered her chest. They were thick and bound tightly, and Hermione's brows knitted in confusion as her free hand rose up to touch the edges of the bandages.
Raising her gaze to meet the Headmasters, her thirst for knowledge won out and she met his sympathetic gaze with a determined gaze of her own.
"It is not clear what happened, Miss Granger, we are still searching for answers," Dumbledore said softly.
"But surely you must know something? Professor Snape was there, he- "
"Now, now, Miss Granger. We are all looking for answers and we will get to the bottom of this, I promise. In the meantime, you need rest," Dumbledore spoke, and released her hand to silently conjure a vial of Dreamless Sleep.
Hermione felt her brows drawn together and her jaw was tense, but at the Headmaster's words, she realized the exhaustion that covered every inch of her body. The Headmaster carefully brought the vial to her lips and she sipped the potion, feeling it slip down her throat.
Almost instantly, her lids grew heavy again, even heavier than before. Hermione felt herself drift away, leaving the confusion and pain of the past 24 hours behind her.
Severus made his way swiftly to the Infirmary, leaving behind all remnants of his emotional outburst. The Headmaster had brought the girl to Poppy which meant that in the next few hours, he would inevitably be dealing with Minerva and her irrational protectiveness of her cubs.
I've had enough bloody Gryffindors for a lifetime, Severus thought testily.
As he walked, Severus felt some strange and unidentifiable feeling prickle across his skin. At first it covered his entire skin, but it sharpened and centralized until the sensation was localized to his chest.
What started as prickles, soon turned into sharp jabs that struck at Severus' chest. The pain grew until he slowed his steps, leaning against the stone wall for balance as his breaths turned into gasps and sweat broke out across his skin. Clutching at his chest, he felt the skin grow warm until for one painful flash, he felt something singed into the skin at his chest. The pain stopped as quickly as it grew. As Severus began to walk, he still felt his skin tingle with each of his steps.
He ducked into a bathroom on the main floor, silently locking the doors behind him incase a particular elderly Gryffindor came looking for him.
Severus ran the tap over his hands then brought the cool water to his face and neck. Wiping away the water and sweat, Severus could not shake the tingly feeling that lingered on his skin.
"Have you noticed a change in your powers? . . . I suspect it will be very traumatic for the both of you when she awakens."
Damn it all, Severus thought, tearing open the collar of his shirt to reveal the pale skin of his chest.
Severus was familiar with the scars that marred his body, each of them earned in his years of spying, but when Severus looked at his chest, his heart began to race.
In the skin of his chest was a fresh and angry-looking red mark. It was an R enclosed in a circle. The same symbol the Dark Lord carved in the girl's chest. Severus stared at the mark for minutes, feeling his anger build. He struck out at the glass before him, shattering it beneath his knuckles, and repeated his actions with the other mirrors.
When Severus had finished, he stood breathing heavily in the middle of the bathroom and stared down at the broken shards of mirror. Resentfully, he silently cast a spell to clean up the mess he made and restore the mirrors to their former state. His knuckles were a bloody mess, but Severus did not bother to fix them, fastening his shirt front instead.
As he fixed the small buttons, Severus was bombarded with a flood of images from the night before. Apparating to the meeting, The Dark Lord's legillemancy, the pain of the curse, darkness.
Severus was startled with the memories, not because of what they contained, he had replayed them in his head more times than he could count, but because they were not his memories.
As Severus stood still, struck by the images, he saw the ceiling of the Infirmary and heard Dumbledore's soft voice.
Just bloody brilliant, Severus swore, slamming his hand angrily down on the marble sink. A side effect of the curse, no doubt, Severus thought angrily as he watched the scene through another's eyes in the Hospital Wing play out in his head.
Severus mentally focused, drawing on his years of occluding to silence the scene of the young girl and Headmaster. He envisioned the murky lake that was his mind and dove below the surface searching for the piece that did not belong to him. Severus searched the dark waters desperately until he found what he was looking for.
He couldn't identify the object, each time he was sure of its form, it morphed until he was no longer sure. It made it tricky as hell to catch, but Severus did. He pushed the ever-changing form deep below the surface of the water until it no longer swam in his consciousness.
Opening his eyes, Severus felt the form flitting in the back of his consciousness. It felt like waking from a dream only to be unable to recall any details, and yet the memories of the dream teased and lingered at the edge of consciousness.
Severus forced it to stay back, knowing instinctually that if he acknowledged its presence, it would come swimming forward, opening the connection between him and Miss Granger yet again. Never in my life have I wanted to be inside the head of a Gryffindor, and I get stuck with the most insufferable of them all.
As soon as Severus thought his words, he quickly retracted his statement. It would be immeasurably more maddening if he were saddled with the thoughts of Weasley, or - god help him - Longbottom.
Severus quickly exited the bathroom, walking swiftly to the Hospital Wing. When he reached the Infirmary, Severus arrived just in time to see the Headmaster stopper a vial of Dreamless Sleep and leave a newly, unconscious Miss Granger to sleep.
The Headmaster met Severus' dark gaze as he walked from Miss Granger's bed and motioned Severus to follow him to the corridor. As Severus exited the room, Dumbledore closed the wooden doors to the Infirmary behind them.
"You were correct," Severus drawled.
"That is a situation I usually find myself in, however, which matter are you referring to?" Dumbledore asked, pulling a pack of sweets from the pocket of his robes.
Severus rolled his eyes and answered, "You were right about the consequences of her awakening."
"I see," Dumbledore eyes gleamed, "And what trauma took place?"
"See for yourself," Severus bit out.
Dumbledore used legilimancy to watch the recent discoveries Severus made, though Severus had edited a few parts, i.e. the breaking of the mirrors, out.
"I see," Dumbledore murmured softly after breaking mental contact with Severus.
Dumbledore began walking down the corridor and Severus followed.
"There is a way, a simple memory charm perhaps, that we will be able to fix this- ", Severus started.
"No, Severus," Dumbledore cut him off firmly, and then added more softly, "We are shaped and defined by our memories. To take this from her, well, that may prove more traumatizing that to leave her with it."
"More traumatizing?" Severus boomed, "How in seven hells would removing the memory of the curse be more traumatizing than not?"
"Because, Severus, removing the memory will not dull the side-effects. We still do not fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, and until we do, there is little to be done than to treat the side effects as they arise."
Neither spoke for a few steps.
"You should visit Poppy and have her examine your chest, if it is anything like Miss Granger's- "
"No."
Severus was silent. The only sounds that filled the corridor were the sounds of Dumbledore chewing his candy. The two wizards made their way to the Entry Hall and just as they were passing the great wooden doors, they were thrown open in a burst of power.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, ALBUS? WHERE IS SHE?" Boomed a very shrill and very Scottish voice.
Oh, bloody hell, Severus fumed, not now.
"Ah, Minerva, I suspected you would come, lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked lightly.
"No I do not want a bloody lemon drop! I want to see my student, where is she?" Professor McGonagall exclaimed shrilly. Severus couldn't stop one side of his mouth from twitching at the older woman's exclamations.
"She is currently sleeping, but I don't expect her to sleep long, you'll be able to see her soon," Dumbledore replied, placing another yellow candy in his mouth.
"Good," McGonagall huffed and turned to Severus, "In the meantime, I would like to know what the bloody hell you've done to her!"
McGonagall ended her sentence is a hiss and set on Severus a stare, so icy and scathing, that Severus imagined were he a student, he'd have lost control of his facilities. However, Severus was not one of her students to be intimidated.
"I'll have you know, thinly thing I did was save your cub from a most painful death that would have inevitably been the result of her foolish actions," Severus bit out. He had been repeating those exact words over and over in his head, determined to believe them.
"So help me, Severus, I'll make you wish for a most painful death if you speak to me like that again!" McGonagall yelled, her face flushed in anger.
Both Professors, stared each other down with gazes teeming with anger. Severus felt the tingle that haunted his skin earlier return tenfold in newly his agitated state. His body hummed and vibrated with anger as though the emotion had an energy or magic of its own.
The air around Severus had thickened so that it seemed to crackle and hiss. Dumbledore's perceptive eyes did not miss the change in the atmosphere.
"Severus, my boy, perhaps it would be best if you spoke to Poppy about Miss Granger's condition. No doubt, your two brilliant minds will find a way to easy any ailments Miss Granger might encounter. Minerva, you, no doubt, have questions-"
"I sure as hell have questions," McGonagall cut in.
"-if you would accompany me to my office, I would be glad to show you the events that ensued earlier tonight," Dumbledore said, his voice was light, but both Professors heard the command in his words.
Professor McGonagall let her icy gaze linger on Severus for a moment longer until she straightened her spine and her hat and made to follow Dumbledore.
Severus watched the two retreating figures while his skin suffocated under the blanket of the tingling sensation. It reminded him of the feeling he got in the morning after sleeping on his arm, the pricking and tingling sensation, but this was different. This sensation went beyond the physical, it went straight to his core, to the very essence of his magic. It was power.
The power filled him to the brim spilled out of every pore of his skin. Severus had never felt anything quite like it. The closest he could say would be the day he received the Dark Mark. The dark magic of the Mark had burned and singed his skin, then slowly it began to work its way into his veins and then deeper to his core.
At the time, Severus had been in awe and considered himself to be partaking in the very essence of the Dark Lord himself. Time had taught Severus that it was not the Dark Lord's magic, but a force more evil and old as time.
His newly found surge of dark powers was a thought Severus loathed to linger on. Of course, his traitorous mind supplied the thoughts for him as he remembered the words he read earlier, the Relligo Potentia relinquishes control of the victim's magical powers to the wizard to which the victim is tied to.
Severus realized he had been standing uselessly in the Entry Way for quite some time. He turned sharply on his heel and walked swiftly to the Hospital Wing. He kept his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he walked, his robes billowing behind him. The closer Severus got to the Infirmary, he could feel the muscles in his stomach twist in a sickening way.
She would be there. She would be sleeping and covered in bandages. She would wake up confused and angry and hurt. His student. The one who had so recklessly put herself, and him,in peril.
It could have been worse, a small voice inside Severus tried to reason. His mind was flooded with all the horrors and atrocities he had witnessed at the hand of the Dark Lord through the years and he decided that it could, in fact have been much worse.
There's so little known on Relligo Potentia, it could be just as bad, Severus thought. The tingling had long since left his skin and all Severus was left with were veins full of ice. Just as Severus reached the wooden doors of the Hospital Wing, his students word's drifted through his head on their own accord, I trust you. Without you, the Order would be blind.
At the girls' remembered words, Severus sucked in a sharp breath. He felt a pain settle in his chest, burying itself between his ribs. She was too young and foolish and naive and trusting. She didn't know, or understand, that it was foolish to trust him. In his mind, Severus saw the girl as she had been hours ago, pale and bloody and gasping at his feet. That's what happens to those that trust me.
Severus placed his long, pale hands on the doors before him and leaned forward so that his forehead rested against the cool wood. His pulse raced pushing the ice throughout his body. Severus was tired. His very bones felt as though they were made of lead, they so were heavy and he felt as though he would collapse under their weight.
He closed his eyes, keeping his forehead resting on the door, and saw the dark, murky waters that was his mind. Severus delved beneath the surface, not too far, but just far enough. As he did so, the same shape that Severus had shoved down somewhere deep below the waters, floated up to him.
Now that he knew what the shape meant, it swirled in the waters around him, teasing and toying with his consciousness. When it drew near, Severus could feel the pulse and hum of the girl, her thoughts and emotions. Severus tried desperately to keep the shape from reaching him. He had no desire to feel the girl's anger or hatred for him.
Merlin knows she couldn't hate me as much as I do, Severus thought with a bitter laugh. It wasn't the hatred or fury that Severus feared he would find in the girl's thoughts, but rather sympathy. Or worse, pity.
Severus had felt the sympathy in the gentle words the girl spoke to him in the library. He felt the sympathy radiate through her thoughts and cloud her judgement as she grabbed on to his arm before he could realize her mistake.
He was buried so deeply in the blanket of his thoughts that Severus didn't notice the simmering burn on his forearm. When he realized what he was feeling, Severus tore himself from his thoughts and his thrust himself back into reality. A similar feeling to dousing himself in ice water.
Severus abruptly stood at his full height and lowered his arms from the door. He walked back to the Entry Hall with mechanical motions, sending a patronus to the Headmaster to alert him of his summoning. Severus silently summoned his mask and the cool weight of it sat heavily in his palm.
He crossed the threshold of the front gates and pulled his mask into place. As he touched his wand to his burning forearm Severus couldn't help but imagine the small, but strong, hand that held on to him the last time he was summoned and to his deep shock, instead of fear or panic, he felt strengthened.
Hermione woke up slowly, forcing her eyes to stay open. Her mouth was dry and the taste of the potion still lingered on her tongue. Grogginess clouded her head as she sat up slowly on the bed, propping herself up on the pillows.
Her breath came in a short, controlled rhythm, but when she tried to pull in a deep breath, she felt the restriction of something around her chest. Dimly, Hermione remembered noticing the bandages on her chest before she went to sleep, and she looked down once more to see the thick white gauze that stretched across her chest under her hospital gown.
At the memories of the past night, Hermione felt a hot rush of emotion pool in her eyes and spill slowly down her cheeks. She was not in pain at the present, at least not compared to the pain she felt before, but her joints were sore and stiff as Hermione climbed down from her hospital bed.
Quietly, she made her way through the Infirmary to the girl's lavatory. Once inside, Hermione quickly and quietly dried her running nose and eyes, making a point to avoid the reflection in the mirror. Hermione hated crying. She hated how useless and weak she felt when she cried, and yet she couldn't stop her eyes from leaking. Until Hermione realized she hated crying almost as much as she hated not knowing something. With that thought, Hermione dried her eyes once more, determined not to have to do it again, although she kept a tissue in her fist just to be safe.
Exiting the bathroom, Hermione was not sure what her plan was, but she decided the first step to understanding exactly what happened, was to speak to the Headmaster. Slowly Hermione made her way to the Headmaster's office. Her body was heavy with sleep and aches, but she continued on.
If something were seriously wrong with me, I would at least be in pain, wouldn't I? Hermione thought, then remembered the bandages on her chest, I probably just am a bit banged up from it.
What could Snape have told Voldemort that would have saved me? Hermione pondered and then stopped walking. With a rising panic, Hermione considered the fact that she hadn't seen Professor Snape since that night. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione began walking again at a faster pace toward's the Headmaster's Office.
What if something happened to him? What if he was cursed, or worse,- Hermione's thoughts rushed in panic, If something happened to him because of me- She couldn't finish the thought.
Finally Hermione reached the stone griffin, her breaths came in painful gasps since she was unable to take a deep breath to steady herself. She realized too late that she did not know the password to get past.
Thankfully, Hermione heard the grinding noise of the stone stairs leading to the Headmaster's office open up. Hermione took as deep of a breath as she could, and then slowly ascended the stairs to Dumbledore's office.
Once she had reached the top, she was greeted by the golden flames of the large fireplace, and two pairs of blue eyes full of surprise and sympathy.
"Miss Granger? I daresay if Poppy knew you were out of bed, she'd have a fit. Lemon drop?" Dumbledore said, his tone was light, but his eyes were scrutinizing as they looked Hermione over.
Hermione watched silently as her Head of House rolled her eyes dramatically at Dumbledore's question, then rose from her seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. She fixed her gaze on Hermione, filling it with compassion and concern as she crossed the room to stand before Hermione. Professor McGonagall took hold of her upper arms, gripping a little too tightly, and Hermione stared up into her blue eyes, usually so fierce, now glazed with sadness.
"You're a Gryffindor, Hermione. Through and through," Professor McGonagall said, her voice was soft and passionate.
Hermione was unnerved by her Head of House's words, and felt more confused as ever. Her brows drew together and she winced as she unconsciously tried to take a calming breath, but was met with the constricting bandages.
"Thank you, Professor? But what happened?" Hermione asked, hating how small her voice sounded.
Professor McGonagall did not answer, but she eased her grip on Hermione's arms and led her to the overstuffed armchair before of the fire. Hermione sat down, slowly, feeling both pairs of eyes on her like a too-tight jacket.
"What's going on, Professor?" Hermione asked again, her voice stronger.
"Miss Granger, before we have this discussion, I would like to know how exactly you ended up with Professor Snape last night," Dumbledore asked. Hermione had not seen him draw closer to her, but he moved to sit in the chair across from Hermione while McGonagall perched on the edge of Hermione's chair.
Hermione blushed and quickly tried to think of a way to explain her actions.
"I saw Professor Snape leaving, and I just wanted to ask him a question about something I had read in a textbook. It was a bad idea, I know, but I was just trying to get an answer, and then he apparated and we ended up in a field. We were surrounded and then -" Hermione finally put an abrupt stop to the words that were pouring out of her. She did not want to admit to either of them that she had overheard the Order's meeting. Or how the Order treats him.
Dumbledore's blue eyes had not wavered from her since she began speaking, and they lingered on her now.
"Do you have your wand, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
"I left it at Grimmauld Place," Hermione admitted.
The Headmaster nodded thoughtfully, then with a snap of his fingers, the older house elf, Kreacher appeared between them.
"You called, sir?" Kreacher asked, none too happily.
"Yes, if you will, fetch for me Miss Granger's wand?" Dumbledore asked the house elf.
With a crack, Kreacher was gone. Within seconds another crack rang out in the quite room and the house elf had reappeared, Hermione's wand in tow. Dumbledore took the wand from Kreacher, then quietly dismissed him.
"Miss Granger, if you would, please extinguish the fire. Use your magic," Dumbledore instructed.
Hermione was confused. Her brows were drawn tight and her heart and sped up to a sporadic beating. What in Merlin's name is this for? Hermione glanced up at Professor McGonagall who nodded down at her in a silent command.
Slowly Hermione lifted her wand and pointed it at the dancing flames. Her arm seemed to weigh more than it had before.
"Aguamenti," Hermione said.
A few drops fell from the tip of Hermione's wand like a leaking faucet. Confused, Hermione cast the spell again.
It produced less drops than it had the first time.
Hermione's heart had began to beat faster inside her tightly bound chest. Her breaths came in short gasps. She swung her confused gaze to the Headmaster, then up to her Professor. Both looked at her with gazes that were smothered in sympathy.
"What's wrong with it? Is my wand broken?" Hermione asked. Her voice was shrill and it sliced through the silence of the room. Against her will, her eyes once again filled with tears, but this time they spilled easily down her cheeks.
"Miss Granger, I would like you to read this." Dumbledore said as he passed Hermione a small, black book opened to page where he indicated her to read. She took it carefully, the words swimming and blurring in her watery eyes.
Hermione blinked hard once, twice, clearing away the tears. She kept them closed on the third blink. She knew that what she was about to read would change everything.
Steeling herself, she opened her eyes and scanned over the passage. When she had finished, she read it again. And again.
As many times as she read the words, she could not fit them together to make sense in her head.
"What does this have to do with my wand?" Hermione asked slowly. Dumbledore met her gaze compassionately. And then she understood.
Her breath left her body in a painful rush. Professor McGonagall's hand came rest on her shoulder, but she couldn't feel it.
My magic is gone?! My magic? No. No, I'm just tired, I need to sleep. Once I sleep, I'll be able to do it again.
"I won't argue with that, Miss Granger, you do need rest." Dumbledore spoke softly. Hermione hadn't realized she was speaking her thoughts out loud and some part of her told her to be embarrassed. But she wasn't.
"Miss Granger, we do not know how permanent this is. Once Severus-Professor Snape- is here, we will truly be able to understand the extent of the-" Dumbledore paused, "-the transference of energy."
"When will he be back?" Professor McGonagall asked for her, sharply.
"By morning, I suspect," Dumbledore answered.
Professor McGonagall moved so that her arm was wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, and Dumbledore took the wretched book from her shaking hands.
Hermione had never felt as pained and confused as she did in that armchair in the Headmaster's Office. As much as Hermione hated crying, it was the only thing she could do while she waited for the man who had stolen her magic.
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