AN: Finally, some answers! Thank you all for reading and responding- my region and town was badly affected by Hurricane Florence and writing has been a major respite from the anxiety and fear. I wrote all of this on paper first and for those of you who don't know I'm dyslexic, I apologize for errors!
She watched the sunrise over the rock formations, for a second through the arch of Famagusta Bay, the mythical arch that seemed so important yet she couldn't quite put her finger on why. As she sat in the cool sand, time passed without her noticing, the sun crept further and further in the sky before she felt herself crisping up, a sound of something moving the sand near her finally caught her attention.
"I see you followed his advice." Hermione had an inkling of who the soft, syrupy voice belonged to before she turned her head to look, even if they had never actually met.
"Are you Phoebe?" Hermione asked, pulling a scarf from her bag to cover her head as she waited, the sun would soon burn her skin too quickly if she forgot her spells, and staring at the sea often made her forget.
"Yes, my name is Phoebe and you are his Hermione, of the ensynaísthisi. He told me you would come, though I expected it before today." While she spoke, Phoebe weaved a spell in the air, nonverbal magic in display so expertly, Hermione could hardly begin to explain what she was seeing little alone how Phoebe was performing the magic itself.
"His Hermione?" She questioned, steadfast in thought that there was no possible way Snape has spoken of her in any positive manner, especially not since they'd been working together, but she could think of no one else who was connected to Phoebe. It was impossible for her to shift her eyes, like the sirens, the veela, Phoebe kept Hermione's gaze locked, weaving a spell and trying to calm her.
"You are his Hermione, are you not?"
"To whom do you refer?"
"The creature, of course, at least in his human form, he is far nicer surprisingly when he has turned." It didn't make sense, how could a person transform into something like the sea dragon, the magnificent ketea who seemed so regal, powerful, and reclusive. He was a trickster, curious and inquisitive, not immediately evil or giving the perception of evil.
"Severus is the sea dragon?" Hermione quickly asked, looking out to the water and thinking of the first night she saw the creature in the water, from the balcony of the guest room in Severus' house. He was standing next to her, viewing the same thing, so how could he be the creature?
"He both is and is not." Phoebe responded, the same enigmatic way of the merpeople, of most that she encountered in the magical world and she couldn't possible fathom how Snape could both be and not be a sea dragon.
"But he didn't grow up here, he came here after the war to get away, and now he must shoulder this burden as well?" Hermione surmised aloud, not really asking Phoebe but also wishing to express concern. Surely in his life enough had been asked of him, his debt to society had been paid ten-fold.
"It is no curse to him, korítsi méli, he has been brought great joy. Speak with him with an open heart and he will tell you." And with that Phoebe was gone, moving away from Hermione at a slow speed, but almost with the same rush of the waves of the ocean, disappearing into the distance like a mirage. It was unclear to Hermione if Phoebe had truly been real, if their conversation had indeed occurred, but instead of dwelling on the thought, she wiped her face her scarf, the one she'd been using to shield her face from the sun, then heard from behind another set of steps, ardent steps with purpose.
"You are either incredibly foolish or brave, Ms. Granger. I thought you would be gone by now, but you just can't let a mystery go, can you?" Hermione didn't turn towards him, simply sat with her eyes on the ocean, the ebbing tide and the words of Phoebe swirling in her brain. How could Snape both be and not be the sea dragon? As she stared at the sea, she wondered how the knowledge of Snape's place in the whole scheme would change things, did the other researchers know? Is it why they threw away the majority of her thoughts and arguments? She finally looked to him, finding him as contemplative as she and a grimace, a hint of disappointment perhaps, but she didn't know if it was because she was still present or if it was from his own behavior. They remained like this thirty minutes more before Hermione left the spot to explore a set of ruins near Famagusta bay.
"This cave isn't on the maps." She stammered, looking down at her maps, then looking back to him as he stood sluggishly, arms crossed followed her to the rock formations.
"Well spotted, there are many nooks and crannies the researchers have never discovered because the curse typically moves into the regions they need to explore and they can't figure out ways around it." She almost sneered at him, thinking of Phoebe's words and wondering why he seemed so nonchalant. If he was the sea dragon, he was controlling the curse and therefore he was playing a game with all of them.
"This is not a game."
"Stop doing that!" She moved towards the cave and began to cast spells, trying to discern if the curse was still present in the area, but she couldn't get a steady reading until it was too late, perhaps it had been too late since she'd been on the sand, watching the sunrise as though it were the last time. She felt the pull, the lure of her entire being forward, into the cave and beyond; she could not hear Severus calling for her, she simply walked, wand drawn, and was greeted with a sight she hadn't expected, walls of runes, stories she wanted to figure out, to decipher each and every part but instead she felt his arms roughly around her, pulling her away.
"Why was I necessary?" Meekly she asked as he held her tightly and walked them backwards out of the cave.
"I shouldn't have said that."
"So now I am not essential, I don't need to be here?" She asked, turning in his arms to face him, a slick strand of his now much shorter hair falling on his face, obscuring her view of his startling eyes.
"It's too late, Hermione, we are-" But he didn't finish his sentence, instead he released her and stepped away quickly, looking to the cave entrance and their now almost faulty wands.
"The curse? I know, but Bill will save us, he knew I was coming here." With her wand tucked away, she turned to face him completely.
"Now shall you tell me why Phoebe says you are both the sea dragon and not?" His shock was palpable, as though he hadn't expected Hermione to know so soon.
"She shouldn't have said anything at all, little alone something that isn't the full truth." More words but fewer answers, Hermione shouldn't have expected more from him.
"We are stuck unless they save us, or unless you now possess some power you are hiding from me, all of us." The implication that he had been keeping something from them, allowing the curse to affect people and send them into the sea, was more than Severus could bear.
"As usual, you know not of what you speak. I have no power over the curse, I cannot save you, but you can save me." She didn't quite know how to respond to him, but she couldn't deny she wanted to save him, not even fully aware of what she would be saving him from. Each time she looked to him, there was a blur in her vision, as though he was both inside and outside of the bubble of the curse. It made her feel drawn to him, like she was drawn to the runes and the sea; she saw something she hadn't expected, she felt the pressure of his arms pulling her from the runes, but she couldn't fathom why it felt so welcome, why she wanted to wrap her arms around him, hearing the haunting way he'd said that she could save him in her mind. It rocked her to sleep, the feeling of being protected, comforted, indeed the sheer relief of being needed again helped to peace she hadn't known in years.
SSHGSSHGSSHG
"What do you think you are doing?" She heard from behind her, but Hermione did not turn around, instead she apparated to the rocks, the sun was coming up and she wanted to find the sea dragon as soon as she could. Immediately, she felt directed to the spot she had been before, landing squarely on the edge of the rock formation, cutting her leg slightly before the warm sea salt cleaned her wound with a sting. She's only been humming, but perhaps the tune has bothered him, or the maybe she'd sounded off again, like hours before. He still wouldn't explain what Phoebe had told her nor what he meant by telling her that she could save him, so she continued with her tune and tried to stop thinking about him. The trouble was, each time she tried to stop thinking of him, she thought of the sea, of the vastness, the horizon begging her onward. Instead of waiting, she apparated back to the cave and wrapped her wound, continuing to hum her tune as she did.
"You are not a natural singer, are you?" He said impolitely, the echo of her tune finally making her realize that she was singing and not just humming, it was 'Jerusalem', and she couldn't quite figure out why she was singing it in a cave in Cyprus.
"I sang at my parents' church for years, even when I returned for holidays. If it's unpleasant to you, I'm not going to apologize, my mind is obviously trying to find something of comfort." Thinking of her parents, watching her from the audience while she sang in the rectory, each hymn something of their history, and she wondered if he had been taken to church, if he had ever sat through a service with his parents who hadn't seen him for months. Those thoughts only spiraled to what Harry had told her, what he'd seen in Snape's memories and she wanted to escape.
"My mother was orthodox, we attended services when she was well, my father was an atheist, to satisfy your curiosity."
"I will not apologize for my curiosity either, when I did not speak it aloud." Suddenly she wondered how long they'd been there, in Famagusta bay, in the cave where all the runes of ancient history painted the walls, and she couldn't remember night or day, everything felt like a blur.
"Why did you pull me from the runes?"
"You will read them." He snapped, tossing a pebble out of the cave.
"This would all be a lot easier if you'd just give me a straight answer. You won't tell me why Phoebe-" He cut her off, silencing her with one wave of his hand.
"Why should I tell you what you cannot discover on your own?" Squinting, she remembered the sea dragon saying the same words, but she could not ascertain if he had pulled it from her memory or if he had spoken them to her originally. She refused to wait another minute, trying desperately to leave, to find the sea dragon, to find a way around the curse; she went deeper into the cave and cast 'lumos', beginning to decipher the runes. They were represented on the maps, she recalled, at least some of them but she couldn't quite understand the story, it was like a myth, written as it should be spoken, but without the inflection and natural pull of the storyteller. Methodically, she read them over and over, putting together a bit of the story, feeling the weight of what she was reading: they were trapped in a sort of elysium, an afterlife though not dead, but then, when she thought more thoroughly on the subject, she thought of Snape, had he died, was he stuck, as they said, and she suddenly wondered if he was a ghost. But she'd felt him, the weight of his body, his arms around hers, could ghosts make themselves so solid? Is this how he could both be and not be the ketea?
Hours she sat before those runes, casting lumos when her strength failed, when her mental acuity drifted off into the sea, she could feel the pull of the sea as the waves lapped the shore, so she finally went to feel the water. If this was elysium, why would anyone want to drown themselves in the waters? It was then, she saw it in the distance, the sea dragon, so she apparated to the rocks, hitting herself again, in the same spot.
"You are a tenacious one, are you not?" It's deep voice rattled her as she cleaned her wound in the water.
"I want to save these people, this island. Why do you do this? Why do you lure them into the water?" Hermione begged, on the verge of tears.
"I am Theóstaltos, I am not here to harm. What you humans think you have learned of the spells we cast leave much to be desired." Hermione's eyes snapped up again, watching the beautiful creature swim around her, it did not look anything like Snape.
"You are heaven sent? The runes said this is elysium, not like heaven, more like limbo, are these people who come to the water already dying? Is this relief?" The more she thought on her own questions, she wondered if she was close to death, had the water been luring her since she arrived? What had Snape meant when he said she was essential? Was she the only one who could save him because she was also with him?
"You ask many questions, human-"
"My name is Hermione, or do you not care to know my name? Easier to continue playing games with me?" Instantly, she regretted her quick tongue when it raised from the water for a moment, facing her, nostrils flared.
"We are bound by laws far beyond any you know, young human. I do not control the 'curse' nor do I harm the people, this is a vessel, a form taken, a mirage as real as the runes on the cave walls, as the formations that have grown and fallen into the sea, we are called to this service." Guilt filled Hermione, they'd been so wrong about what was happening on Cyprus, yet she didn't understand why it seemed this only happened on Cyprus, it didn't seem to happen in the lochs of Scotland, where the Loch Ness monster was apparently some cousin to the creature before her. As though her eyes were suddenly opened, she felt something break, the rocks beneath her crumbling into the water, trying to catch herself on the rock, she wondered if this was some punishment for saying too much, knowing too much.
"Save me!" She cried out, reminding herself that she was in fact magical and transporting herself to the shore, far away from the sea dragon and once again finding herself surrounded by night, the cold brew of a storm, but she couldn't tell what was real and what was imagined, she felt that every encounter she had with the sea dragon was one of mirage, she no longer believed any of it was real, that it was all happening in her head.
'Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?' She heard echoed in her mind, Professor Dumbledore's words spoken through Harry to her in the infirmary after the final battle. Except, she heard it again, this time spoken in a deep, almost haunting voice.
"Are you the harbinger of death?" Hermione asked, not truly knowing to whom she was speaking, finding no one around her after she'd spoken, only the sea dragon off in the distance, swimming repeatedly around the formations, then as if struck by lightning, a portal opening and ten or so people walked past her, all with massive smiles on their faces, some holding hands, some looking to her as though they'd gone on a long journey and were finally getting to rest.
"Do you understand now?" She heard Severus ask, as the luminous light disappeared with the night, it was sunny, her face was toasty and he looked tan as well.
"No, I don't understand at all." She cried, feeling the phantom pain in her knee again, but when she looked down it wasn't there, no cut or bruise, her legs were exactly as they were when she left England, just a bit more color. In swift movements, far quicker than her brain could fathom, Hermione felt his hands on her shoulders as she began to sing again, this time her voice stopped him from gripping her so tightly and instead he pulled her closer, she sang louder.
"You can talk to the sea dragon, the merpeople, beings of all kinds because you are descended of the island, of the people who first came here, Hermione, you are essential because you beckon them home, you can read the runes because you have been given the gift." Compelled, she continued to sing, bringing the people again, this time she couldn't look at them, she looked only at Snape, seeing her own reflection in his dark, fathomless eyes.
"We are not dead, we are part of a ritual, we were chosen. Do not leave, please, or they will be stranded, and so will I." Her voice continued, her song one she didn't even know, an elegy to the dead. It didn't make any sense, she felt herself spiraling but Snape held her tightly, giving her some of his strength. All of the enigmatic things he'd said over the course of her time in Cyprus, the constant distrust and annoyance he displayed had been to rile her up, to make her fight for her cause because she was brave and strong, she wanted to solve the riddle, and he'd known she could. It was clear she couldn't leave, not physically, but mentally she was losing herself. It finally hit her, he'd been called to the island and couldn't leave for four years, his life was paralyzed in time, like theirs and he'd waited, he'd not succumbed to the sea in all that time. His devotion proved itself once again, even if he'd driven her mad while riling her up, and she had almost let go, let her power diminish and fade so quickly. Embarrassment colored her face as she thought of her weakness.
"If you had not come, the people would've been left for years to wonder when they would reach elysium. They get to visit their old lives for a short time, but it becomes unbearable for them because they cannot move on. The history is lost, the original story only spoken never written. Our community will always try to stop this 'curse' but it's not a curse unless the descendents cannot return. The one who was chosen as siren was killed during the war, she could not release these souls, so Theóstaltos came to protect them until you were called, they were becoming restless and causing havoc on the island, do you understand now?" The light disappeared again and her voice was immediately silenced, she fell into his arms and unable to hold herself upright, she closed her eyes as he lifted her like a feather and carried her, to where she did not know. She was only certain that once again she had doubted him, who he was, his heart, and though he hadn't made it easy for her, she felt the weight of her own distrust weigh her down. If she was the siren, he was ketea, the protector, Virgil, the guide they needed to ensure they made it safely. It made her wonder how much Minister Drakas had really known, all of them, and why she had been so weak to the call. It intrigued her as she finally drifted completely, like a raft at sea, lost and funneling in a riptide.
translations:
ensynaísthisi- empathy
korítsi méli- honey girl
Theóstaltos- heaven sent
