I should be working on my other project, but I couldn't leave you all with that cliff hanger.
Song for this chapter: The Devil's Tears by Angus and Julia Stone
SPOV
Her screams were gut wrenching. They tore at my soul while they burned in my ears. I was certain she was going to lose her voice long before they stopped ripping free of her throat. I stood frozen watching as the tears built up in her eyes before they began to fall. When the first track went down her cheek she snapped her eyes shut and curled in on herself. I wavered where I stood wanting to go to her, but fearing that I would cause her more damage somehow.
When she fell from the couch, still screaming as he body crashed unceremoniously onto the floor I could not restrain myself. I moved forward once more, dropping to me knees at her side, attempted to wrench her arms away from where they were shielding her head. Unfortunately, my touch was a trigger to her. The second my hands made contact with her skin, her magic was unleashed again.
I managed to pull her arms free of her face, but it was a struggle when the floor began to rumble and shake, and things began to fly about the living room. As the effects that would be cause if there were a tornado and an earth quake happening in the living room, I began to fear for her physical well-being. I crouched over her, using my body to shield her from the debris that was flying around us, ignoring the sting when impacts where made along my spine and arms.
"Open your eyes," I shouted to her over the roar of wind and the sound of her screaming.
She did not respond to my direction.
"Open your eyes," I yelled louder, trying to get her to give me at least a glimpse of what was going on in her mind.
Still there was no response, but the damage in my living accelerated, and I began to fear for my own safety.
"Open your ever loving eyes Hermione Jean Granger," I shouted as loud as I possibly could.
She finally responded, her eyes flashing open. It was easy to see that she was not truly present with me. Her eyes were unfocused, seeing something else entirely.
"Legilimens," I whispered, and I slipped into her mind with ease.
What I was met with was absolute pandemonium. Her mind, released from the curse that held her in that one night for years, was being besieged by what appeared to be all of her memories at the same time. Most of them were unpleasant. She was reliving that night, while simultaneously reliving the worst of her nights on the streets.
At the same time she was being bombarded by flashes of her days at Hogwarts. Visions of time spent with her parents also fought for her attention. Her mind attempted to reconcile every flash as different times and events hit her all at the same time but she simply couldn't manage it. There were flashes of the present, though hard to understand, and I found my face as it would look now from her perspective mingling with the rest of it all.
I could feel my heartbeat accelerating in my chest, and I had to pull out of her mind. It wouldn't do for us both to be in a state of panic. I pulled out, drawing several long and embarrassingly shaky breaths to bring myself back to a state of calm. What would Albus say now to know that his spy, so difficult to move with the cruelties of war, was on the verge of going to pieces from the knowledge of the inner works of the mind of one Hermione Granger?
I searched my mind for how to help her, and short of stunning her to at least stop the barrage I wasn't sure how to help her. Her mind was attacking itself, and I couldn't be sure it wasn't being caused by the potion I had given her. I needed to do something before she killed us both, which was starting to seem like a real possibility when I heard the disturbing sound of the foundation of the house beginning to crack. The only solution I could think of was to get her to protect herself from her mind, but how do you teach someone who has completely receded within their mind to practice occlumency?
"Hermione, listen to me carefully," I whisper into her ear, crouching so my arms protected her face while I spoke.
To my surprise she stopped screaming. Her body trembled, and she seemed to be still locked within her mind, but she appeared to be trying to listen to me anyway.
"Occlumency is the art of protecting the mind," I whispered to her, searching for the simplest way to describe this for her. "In a way it is like organizing your mind into two rooms, much like you would a house."
I paused, trying to shake thoughts of what this woman was doing to my own house at the moment before I continued.
"In a person's bedroom, there is likely to be many secrets about them, but their living room is presentable for the public," I whispered to her. "A person can organize their mind so the thoughts they wish to keep hidden from others are in a bedroom, and the thoughts they are willing to let others view are in the living room. The living room can become the forefront of the mind."
The destruction of the house did not stop, so I assumed I had been unclear.
"Hermione, you can choose to stay in the living room as well," I said, and I knew instantly that she had heard me.
The room went unearthly still as the destruction stopped. I looked up, and I saw that bits of furniture and books hung frozen in the air as if we had been watching a memory in a pensive and somehow it had all been put on pause. Clearly the force of her magic was still being exerted or the objects would have fallen, but it was of little consequence. I turned my focus back to her face, and I saw her brow furrow slightly and I realized that she was trying to do what I had told her. I was about to slip into her mind and check her progress when she shut her eyes tight in concentration.
I thought about physically opening her eyes so I could check, but I saw her slowly schooling her terrorized reactions and I felt I had a fairly good understanding of her progress without invading her mind again.
Time ceased to have meaning as I watched the changes happen. First her trembling body fell still. Then her breathing regulated and deepened almost to the sounds of sleep. Ever so slowly the tension leaked out of her frame, and she seemed to almost melt into the floor. When the crease left her brow there was a startling crash as everything held suspended in the air crashed to the ground. Then finally her eyes slowly opened, and she was looking into my eyes with the hint of a shine present in her own once more.
"Professor Snape," she said in a hoarse voice, her throat clearly raw from all the screaming. "I found the living room."
I fought off the sudden urge to wrap her up in my arms and weep and began gently extracting myself from around her. Her eyes never left my face as I moved up and away from her. My heart was beating quickly again, but this time it was for the girl, that bright witch that no one had seen in years, who was present again on my floor. It was only a Band-Aid of course, we would have to deal with what she had buried in the bedroom as it were, not to mention her lack of control over her magic, but for this moment right here she seemed entirely herself once more. And it only made me love her more. Damn it all!
"Very good," was all I could manage to say to her without giving away any emotion in my voice.
I turned away from her, and began the job of repairing the damage she had done to my house.
Hermione had remained unmoving on the floor, her eyes sealed tightly shut as I worked. I realized when I had finished, and she still was not moving, with her breath slightly more labored than it had been when she had awoken. I turned to look at her, and I saw that her body was trembling again. She stared resolutely at the ceiling like she was trying to pretend nothing was happening, but I saw the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, threating to spill once more. She was in need of another overdose potion that much was certain.
I quickly abandoned the last of the repair work, and went back to my store of potions. Thank whoever was listening, that this room had remained untouched. I had left all of the bottles sitting out like a fool, and her fit could have destroyed them all in one go. I deftly snatched another vial of the detoxification draught and with a flit of inspiration I also grabbed a vial of the dreamless sleep I always kept on hand. Her body needed more rest, preferably not disturbed by nightmares of her past.
I returned to her in the living room and saw that she had pulled herself up off of the ground into a partially seated position with her back leaning against the couch. The tears had spilled out of her eyes, leaving tracks down her cheeks, and she was still trembling, but she was focused on the wall before her with a look of determination on her face. It prided me more than it should have to realize she was refusing to give in to the pain she was feeling in her body.
I kneeled before her once more, and her eyes turned to focus on mine. I was tempted to slip into her mind once more and ascertain how well she had constructed her living room, but I shook it off. Now was not the time to indulge silly curiosities. Instead I tiled her head back with the pads of my fingers, and tipped the potion into her mouth, unsure of how well her shaking arms would fair attempting to administer it herself. She swallowed it without complaint, and did not so much as flinch when I brought the second potion to her lips.
When I was sure she had swallowed them both, I stood taking a step back from her with the intention of taking the empty vials back to my small lab. She moved clumsily forward, shifting her weight, and at first I did not understand what she was doing. When she pulled her legs behind her I realized she was trying to get onto her knees and I watched her with a quirked brow. She attempted to pull herself up to sit back on her heels, but then her body succumbed to the dreamless sleep draught and she began to clump back toward the floor.
I dropped quickly down to catch her before her face hit the floor, and I lifted her from my awkward position, ignoring the twinge of my back, and moved her slight weight from the floor to the couch once more. I stretched her out so she might be comfortable, and then I continued on to my lab trying to decipher what exactly she had been doing just then anyway. If she had been trying to stand, would she not simply have pushed herself up? But why would she be trying to kneel before?
I shook my head, dropping the empty vials into the basin to be washed later, and heading back out to the living room. With a sigh I decided it was time to inform Minerva that Hermione Granger had been brought back into the fold of the wizarding world once more. I conjured a cheery fire in the grate, and reached for the pot of floo powder on the mantle. I trounced out every emotion flitting through my mind so I might appear even keeled before the call, and then chuckled reminding myself that I wasn't placing a call to Albus Dumbledore and need not worry quite so much.
"Hogwarts," I said as I tossed the powder into the flames and lowered myself to the hearth sticking my head in. "Headmistresses office."
"Severus?" she said in a startled voice, looking up from her place behind the ancient desk. "What a surprise."
"I am calling with a bit of news." I told her evenly, falling quickly into the role of the smooth potions professor with ease, and I saw her eyes light up with the knowledge of the only thing I would be calling about. "Hermione Granger is safely sleeping on my living room couch."
"Oh Severus," she gasped, her eyes clouding and her hand coming up to clutch her chest. "You've finally found her. Thank Merlin."
There was a heavy silence, where she attempted to gather herself, and I attempted not to notice how effected she was.
"How is she?" the woman asked when she had calmed herself.
"Sickly," I answered honestly. "These past few months she has been living on the streets. She has been using drugs to escape it all, and I found her in the throes of what would have been a lethal overdose."
"No," she gasped.
"I assure you, drugs are the least of her problems," I sighed, feeling how tired I was suddenly. "I can have her broken of them in no time flat, its piecing her mind back together and restoring her magic that will be the challenge."
"Can it be done?" she asked me, her wide eyes making her look more like a child than the headmistress of Hogwarts.
"I think it can," I hedge. "If the speed with which she picked up the basics of occlumency in order to control the absolute fit she went into are any indication, it should not take nearly as long as I had originally believed."
I paused, realizing only now why I had really wanted to speak with Minerva.
"If I am able to get her back on her feet by the fall," I continued on. "Will you allow her to return to Hogwarts so she might continue her education?"
She was quiet a long time, and I found that I wished I could use legilimency on her from my current location. I mean really why would she even have to think about the question. This was Hermione Granger after all. The headmistress's eyes drifted to the side, and I saw her sharing a glance with the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. I wondered if she was silently asking him a work related question, or if she was seeking comfort from her former lover before delivering a decision she had already made.
"To allow her back into the castle would create a certain amount of risk for the other students," she said quietly, and my heart sank at the thought that she would actually refuse this. "It is a risk I am willing to take, but for a price."
"What do you want," I asked in a dead voice, sure that I already knew the answer.
"Horace Slughorn has grown quite old Severus, and I need a replacement so he might finally retire for good," she said quietly.
I snapped my eyes shut fighting against the barrage of emotions that ran through me. I felt anger at the idea of being forced into the role I had filled during my years as a spy. I felt a longing for the castle that was honestly my one true home. I felt a desperate need to protect the witch sleeping on my couch. And I felt a sense of desperation that told me I would do anything not only to protect her but to be with her. Even if that meant I had to teach dunderheaded first years once more. I took a cleansing breath and opened my eyes once more, hoping that none of my emotions had shown on my face.
"I am willing to return under a two year contract," I said finally. "I will stay long enough to be sure your students are safe from any fit Hermione might have, and to allow you to seek out a suitable fulltime replacement. I will not stay beyond two years."
"I find those terms agreeable," she said somewhat stiffly. "I suppose I shall see you in the end of August when you move in your things."
"Very well," I said just as stiffly, refraining from pointing out that I hadn't guaranteed Hermione would be ready by then.
I withdrew from the fire without another word and returned to my feet so I could pace back and forth in front of the hearth. Well now I would just have to be certain I put her back together before September, because I obviously couldn't abandon her to return to the castle on my own.
I had taken a short nap, unable to really sleep while I worried about Hermione waking up alone in the living room, and then I had returned to the first floor of the house. I saw that she was still sleeping, but she had begun to stir just a bit in her sleep and I knew she would wake soon. I went to the kitchen and quickly prepared her a bowl of soup with a sandwich, and a glass of water. The girl could do with a bit of fattening up if I were being honest, and that said a lot considering how little I bothered to maintain a proper bodyweight on my own frame.
After backing through the kitchen door into the living room with the tray of lunch, I turned and saw that not only had she awoken, but Hermione was standing in front of the couch staring at me and the door I had come through. Her face was slightly constricted, and her breathing somewhat accelerate. I could tell without slipping into her mind, that she was not entirely residing within the living room inside of her mind. No coming out of sleep had left her somewhat lost between the two rooms, of that I was sure.
"I brought you lunch," I said in a quiet soothing voice, approaching her slowly so she would not run from me once more.
She looked at the tray, back up at my face, and down at the tray once more. Many thoughts seemed to race through her mind before finally she nodded to herself seeming to have come to some sort of conclusion. Then for some unknown reason, as she looked up to meet my eyes again, she lowered herself down onto her knees again.
"Do you want me to suck you off before or after I've had my lunch," she asked as plain as if she were asking for a page out of the morning paper.
Jesus Christ! The tray slipped from my hands, as my grip went slack in my surprise. The sound of the dishes shattered filled the room around us, causing Hermione to flinch though she held her ground. Very cautiously I stepped over the mess I had just made, warring with the many emotions roaring through me at the realization of just how very broken she was. Her head lowered to the floor when I stepped within two feet of her, and I heard her breathing pick up just a bit indicating her fear.
"Hermione," I said quietly, and I gently took her chin in my hand and angled her face up toward mine so she met my eyes once more. "I will never extract sexual favors from you in payment for the care you are receiving. You are safe here, and you need not debase yourself in order to take care of basic human needs."
Her eyes began to water as she looked up at me, but she did not make so much as a whimper as the tears began to flow freely from her eyes.
"Do you promise?" she asked me finally, her voice breathy from the crying.
"I do," I assured her before I released my hold on her chin. "Give me a moment to clean up and prepare a new lunch."
I turned away from her so she would not see the minute tremble that rolled throw my lower lip as I vanished the mess on the living room floor. My heart ached for her at the same time that the dark part of my mind wished for the death of the man who I knew from her mind was named Harvey. I receded within the fog of my mental shields so I would feel nothing but resolution to action as I prepared another bowl of soup and a sandwich for the witch who I could hear gently crying on my living room floor.
