Severus guessed it was a routine of some sort, albeit a routine of madness.
A week had passed since Miss Granger´s first fit of hallucinations. He vaguely remembered that he had been worried when she had mistaken him for Malfoy, that he had been shocked by the amount of fear and panic she had displayed.
But it had been nothing in comparison to what she had been going through for the last six days.
After she had fallen asleep that day, he had settled into an armchair by her bedside. He had tried to read, but had failed miserably. Severus had always taken pride in his ability to distance himself from everything around him. To care, to worry, to forget the things that really mattered over the little task at hand, were mistakes one could only make once. The Death Eaters would see to it that you wouldn´t have time for a second try.
For years, he hadn´t been a man of many weaknesses. He had separated himself strictly from those around him, had not allowed friendships or passions to build. But the last months had made him weak, he had realized as he sat in his armchair and watched her bare, unguarded face.
Then he had sighed and moved over to the fireplace. A whispered word, and flames were dancing merrily. He hadn´t bothered to use his wand. He seldom did inside his chambers.
From one of his hidden pockets, he unearthed a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the fire. "Headmaster´s office", he said clearly and thrust his head through the flames. Opposite to what he had told Miss Granger, his fireplaces were indeed connected to the floo network, but they were keyed to him, and worked only one way. No one except himself could successfully establish a connection, and no one could enter his chambers this way. The connection was highly illegal, hidden by some "magical turbulences" in Hogwart´s walls, devised by Albus when the Dark Lord had reappeared years ago.
"Albus", he called, feeling the flames tickling his skin, "A word, please."
The old wizard´s face had appeared in front of the fireplace, his eyes worried and tired.
"Yes, dear boy", he answered quietly, "I´m here. How is Miss Granger?"
"It has started. She is hallucinating. Albus, you have to cancel my lessons for the next week – she can´t be left alone."
"Of course, Severus", Something changed in the old wizard´s face, worry deepening its lines and creases.
"You don´t have to do this on your own, you know?", he asked, "Minerva and me could help you if you need some… free time."
"No, Albus", Severus practically growled through the fireplace, "She´s my responsibility. You said it yourself. I will manage."
"But, Severus, you know that…"
"I have to go, Albus", Severus cut him short, "She might awaken. I will contact you again tomorrow."
Drawing back his head, Severus noticed that Miss Granger had begun moving and thrashing in her bed. He hurried back to his place by her side, and, as if his presence had calmed her, she lay still once again.
"Miss Granger", he murmured, his silky voice caressing the silence, "You´re driving me quite mad."
How he would have loved to get rid of her! Playing her nurse would prevent him not only from teaching, but from further research with Remus, from his own projects and from his duties as Head of Slytherin. No walks outside in the autumn sunshine, no meals in the Great Hall, no meetings with Minerva.
But letting her out of sight would mean the risk of exposure. In her present state, Miss Granger couldn´t exercise her usual control and discipline, and he wouldn´t allow Albus to know what he, Severus, knew. Although he wasn´t sure anymore what he knew about her. He wasn´t sure about anything anymore.
And she would hate to be seen in such a state, some voice inside him whispered. He snorted irritatedly and banished that thought into the farthest corner of his mind.
It had been hours until she awoke again, hours of nightmares and whispered pleads, of restless movements and silent sobs. When she opened her eyes, they held a new expression, an unhealthy brightness.
"I have thought, Professor", she announced slowly, greed and nervousness vibrating in her voice, "It is better for the both of us if we stop this now. You can give me the potion! I promise that I won´t tell Dumbledore. We can just pretend that I´m on withdrawal, I can stay in my room and won´t disturb you!"
Severus had waited for this, but he still had to steel himself against what would surely come.
"No, Miss Granger", he answered coolly, "That is not an option."
"But it´s all the same to you, Professor!", she argued heatedly, "You would lose your responsibility. Think it through! It doesn´t matter to you if I live or die. I betrayed you! You must hate me for that, why should you bother with me? Give me the potion! It´s the best way!"
"No. And I won´t listen to anymore of this nonsense. It is the addiction that is talking, not you."
She sat up in bed and matched his icy stare with her determined brown eyes.
"You will give me the potion!"
"My last word, Miss Granger. No."
With a scream more like that of a cat, she launched herself at him. Their combined weight caused the armchair to tumble backwards, and Severus had the most unpleasant experience of lying helpless on his back, legs pointing into the air, with a scratching and biting Hermione Granger on his lap.
He cursed as one of her fingernails drew a burning line across his face.
"I will kill you!", she screamed, "Give me that potion! Give it to me!"
With an angry snarl, he grabbed both her wrists and transferred them to his left hand. The rough treatment would cause bruises, but he didn´t care at the moment. With a rather ungraceful manoeuvre, he managed to get back to his feet and hauled the fighting and shouting girl back onto her back.
"I´m hating to do this, Miss Granger", he explained while he drew his wand with the right, "But you leave me no choice. This is for your own safety."
Quickly, he cast a petrifying spell that left her unable to move a limb. Only her eyes darted wildly from his face to his wand hand, panic rapidly replacing the fury in them. Another flick of the wand produced four leather cuffs that were fixed to the bed near her hands and feet. Carefully, he bound her to the bed, while he watched the horror dawn on her face.
"No", he heard her whimper, "please, don´t do this! I can´t…"
"You warned me yourself, Miss Granger", he explained tiredly, "I can´t risk you hurting yourself."
"Please! I promise to be good! I won´t resist… You can do with me whatever you want, Professor", she pleaded, "Whatever you want! Just untie me and give me that potion!"
"This is not a topic open for discussion, Miss Granger. Don´t fight, then the cuffs won´t hurt you. But they will not be removed until some sense has returned into you."
"Noooo!", with the little strength she still possessed, the girl ripped at the cuffs, using the weight of her body to fight against them, but it was no use.
Slowly, Severus had returned to his armchair, replaced him to the bedside and settled down.
He had barely left it for the last five days, watching her fight against the potion, the cuffs and her own madness. It hadn´t taken long for the hallucinations to return. And with them, her sense of the real world vanished.
Sometimes she believed herself to be his prisoner, sometimes she mistook him for a Death Eater and tried to play along, sometimes she thought they had uncovered her secret. She would beg him for mercy, for rescue, for death. In a way, the three seemed to be the same for her.
It was a good thing that no sound could leave his chambers, he mused now, while slowly sipping his afternoon tea, all the while examining her pale, sweating face. Otherwise, he would certainly have been arrested for torture and murder by now. She had screamed and screamed, until her voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. Still, she had screamed on, her cries for help nothing but a mutely contorted mouth with wide open, bleeding lips.
He couldn´t give her anything against the pain, neither against the physical pain that made her body jerk and convulse like a malfunctioning machine, nor against the pain of her mind, the horrid imaged that took her sanity away. No potion made of herbs and non-magical ingredients was strong enough to reduce her symptoms, and the magical ones would kill her even sooner than the withdrawal.
He couldn´t help her. He couldn´t support her in her fight against the potion´s remnants in her blood. But he couldn´t bring himself to leave her, either. Since he had bound her to the bed, she was completely dependent on him. He couldn´t leave her alone.
So he had sat for hours by her bed, watching her, wiping the sweat from her forehead, applying healing salves to her bloodied, sore wrists that were writhing in the leather cuffs, all the time brooding on the mystery that was Hermione Granger, hoping that she would survive what seemed like living hell to him.
Sometimes, the madness would leave her for a while. He would look up from a book he was reading, and there would be her eyes, watching him, her mouth trying to form words. He would tell her what day it was and how much time had passed. Always, she would ask him in a small, frightened voice whether she had "said something". She asked for nothing else.
She seemed to fear nothing but to lose control, to disclose secrets he shouldn´t know about. So he lied to her. Didn´t tell her that she screamed for help, that her dreams told him more about her sufferings than her waking mind would ever dare.
That she had once more completely confused him. He didn´t know what to make of her any longer, how to judge her behaviour. The doubt that had seized him a week ago had grown inside him. Something wasn´t right with the pictures he had seen in her mind. They didn´t match. Not with the things her hallucinations and nightmares had revealed.
And, if he allowed himself to be honest enough to voice this thought, not with the Hermione Granger he had come to know and respect over the years. Sure, she was a student, a Gryffindor and friend to a pair of the most insufferable idiots he had ever had the misfortune to teach, but her mind was keen and bright, her braveness had surprised him more than once, and she had always shown a regard and tenderness towards other people that was rare amongst women as young as she was.
Justice and fairness, those two had seemed her driving impulses over the years. Of course he had made fun of her ridiculous little SPEW, together with most of the Slytherins, but in a shrewd, strange way, her campaign had had a point.
She wasn´t one to give up easily, whether it concerned people or more abstract goals. For instance, she had never responded to him with the hate and loathing her friends mouthed so redundantly. He had made her life a misery more than once, and still, she showed the same polite acceptance to him as to Professor Flitwick, who was one of the best beloved teachers of the school.
But that wasn´t proof for anything. Tom Riddle himself hadn´t been unlike Hermione Granger in his school years, always top grading, always obeying the school rules in minutiae, working and learning passionately. He had shown respect, even admiration to those Professors he had secretly loathed. No one had only one face. No person could be completely known by others. Hell, most people didn´t even know themselves!
There was a darkness of the soul, a lurking evil that hid in the shadows and could never be discerned from outside. A deep delight in misleading everyone around you, a feeling of superiority and power that came with deception and betrayal and could be stronger than any feeling of loyalty or friendship. Severus knew this well enough. He had tasted the sweetness of those feelings. And perhaps, Miss Granger had tasted, too, and decided to drain the cup to the last drop.
And he had seen Death Eaters writhe in the same fears that had seized Miss Granger. Wounded or dying men and women that had been monsters in life, merciless, cruel and delighting in violence. He had watched those Death Eaters suddenly cry like children, regretting everything they had done, fearing the revenge of their victims. He had seen Lucius Malfoy like that, once, after a particularly bloody revel that had taken a heavy toll on all of them. Lucius hadn´t behaved like a monster that time. Just like a tired man who had seen too much and was haunted by the horror of it.
He was sure that he couldn´t have misunderstood the feelings that had come along with those images. They had been much too clear, much too unambiguous for that. She had truly triumphed, had felt deep and sincere hate for her "friends" at school. Her lust and enjoyment of the pain had been more real and intense than anything he himself had felt for years. Her arousal had been deep and wild.
If they weren´t her true feelings, there was just one way to explain what had happened – she must have planted them deliberately. But to produce images of such sharpness, feelings of that realistic quality, she had to be a Master Occlument.
And there was no way how she could have learned that. No one had taught her, he was sure of that. Only two persons in Hogwarts possessed the ability for Legilimency and Occlumency to an extent that would allow teaching – himself and Albus Dumbledore. Albus would have told him about it, knowing well enough how important it was to keep track of the Occluments in the Wizarding World, and he himself definitely hadn´t taught her. That would have been something to remember for sure.
Which led him back to question he had been pondering for days – should he trust his Legilimens-skills, or the truth that might lie in her madness?
-
The day passed in waiting and musing, his questioning eyes only taken from her when he left for the bathroom or something to eat. He didn´t notice when night fell. He was so lost in thought that the sudden sound of Miss Granger´s voice made him flinch violently.
"It´s so dark", she whispered, lost and frightened like a little child.
"Let me light the candles", he answered quickly and rose from his chair.
"Professor!" Her eyes shot wide open and worry clouded her voice, "Did they catch you, too? I had hoped I was the only one…"
"No one´s caught us, Miss Granger", he tried to convince her though he knew that it would be in vain. They had gone through this so often that he knew the routine by heart, "You´re in my chambers, safe and sound."
"That´s what they want you to believe", she replied bitterly, "And the moment you feel safe, they get you. It´s always been like that – one moment of carelessness, and everyting´s lost."
Unwillingly, he found himself agreeing to her. Constant vigilance, the voice of Madeye Moody mocked him.
"They won´t get you here, Miss Granger. I promise."
"Have they done it to you, too?", she asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on his face in a mad stare, "Have they brought you into the Dark Room?"
"I… don´t know what you mean", he replied coldly, "You should sleep now, Miss Granger. You have to keep up your strength."
"They do terrible things to you in the Dark Room", she whispered while her eyes grew heavy. She fought to keep them open, but her speech became slurry from nearing sleep, "And you never know when the blow comes. That´s the worst…"
She dozed off again before she could finish her sentence. But Severus watched her for nearly half an hour before finally lighting the candles, as if he expected her to say more. Then, he sighed exhaustedly and returned to his book.
On he read for hours. His eyes grew tired and his back ached from the uncomfortable position in the armchair, but still he didn´t go to bed or transfigure his chair into something more comfortable. He had slept very little over the last days. Of course, he had to care for the girl, be prepared for her fits or nightmares.
But if he was honest with himself, he´d had to admit that he didn´t postpone sleeping for the sake of the girl alone.
For his dreams had become less then pleasant as of late. Her hallucinations, her nightmares and whimpered fears revoked memories of his own, memories he had hidden away in the deep caves of his mind. Now, they were crawling out from the shadows like monsters, trying to invade the part of his consciousness he had come to consider as his "safe zone".
Have they brought you into the Dark Room?, her echo whispered in his mind. He knew what she had talked about. He remembered all too well.
It had been an invention of Lucius, this "Dark Room", designed to force enemies or Death Eaters with too much of a personal opinion into submission. A cell, completely cut off from any light source, only cold, bare stone. No sound. The victims would be brought in there blindfolded, only that they couldn´t make out a difference when the cloth before their eyes was removed. Some had thought they´d gone blind, but some had understood what the room was meant to do to them.
Clever as Hermione Granger was, he was sure that she had realized its purpose immediately. The mercy of illusions didn´t come with intelligence.
They were openings in the stone walls, far above any prisoners head so they couldn´t reach them, openings from were Death Eaters could watch the prisoners, could check on their condition without the knowledge of those trembling victims. Isolation and darkness could go on for days before the first blow fell. Prisoners tended to lose all sense of time in the Dark Room.
And then, when the prisoners had given in to the darkness, they would start. Someone, hidden up there in the opening, would cast a curse that would seemingly come out of nowhere. There was no way to prepare for the pain, no way to soften the impact.
As Severus´ eyes fell asleep and his head sank to one side, he remembered standing there, in the dark, looking down on the crouching prisoner on the floor. A spell had enhanced his sight, and so he could see him, even though the dark was heavy like a blanket of black velvet. He saw the begging hands raised in a plea for mercy, saw how the fear twisted his face into something barely human.
But then, in a moment of shock and confusion, Severus realized that the prisoner down in the Dark Room wasn´t a man this time. Framed by dirty, dishevelled locks, the eyes of Hermione Granger looked up to him, piercing his very soul. She knew that he was up there.
He saw her trembling under the pain of hexes and curses that were flung on her from other openings. But she didn´t avert her eyes, her gaze locked on his face. She saw him. And she knew that it was all his fault.
He growled, his teeth bared in a grimace of hate, and pointed his wand at her. The pain struck her in the side and with a grunt she fell over. Her hands were tied together so she couldn´t prevent the fall and her face landed on the cold stones with an audible thud. He saw blood darkening her pale skin, watched the convulsive twitching of her body under the power of the Cruciatus. And he laughed, laughed on and on, the hoarse barking drowning in the sound of her anguished screams….
With a strangled cry he started and gasped for air. It had been a dream. Only a dream. His ragged breathing sounded loud in his own ears. Grey light filled the room. Morning dawned at Hogwarts and he had only dreamed. He wasn´t in the Dark Room, he was safe…
Severus´ gaze fell on Miss Granger´s feet, securely enclosed by the leather cuffs. His searching eyes travelled the still form of her body upwards when they were suddenly met by two brown, wide open eyes that were watching him nervously.
"Miss Granger", he acknowledged curtly, his voice still hoarse from sleep, "Do you know who I am?"
"A strange question, Professor", she answered, "Was it that bad?"
It took him a moment until he realized that she was talking about her illness. Stupid, he admonished himself, of course she can´t know what you dreamed of! She probably didn´t even realize you had a nightmare!
"Worse. How do you feel now?"
She frowned, thinking for a moment. "Worn", she then said, "And frail. Like an autumn leaf."
"Well, if you´re able to produce poetic metaphors, you must feel better", he replied dryly and saw her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Clearly, she hadn´t expected a joke from him.
"Did I behave… strangely? Say weird things? Hallucinate?", she asked hesitatingly, but something in the way her hands twitched, twisted and turned in the cuffs, told him how important his answer was to her.
"You tried to kill me to get the Potion", he said, "That´s why I had to use the leather cuffs. Let me unbind you now."
"Sorry for that, Professor", she smiled weakly, but then nervousness crept back into her face, "Do you think it´s safe yet?"
He had already started a diagnosis spell on her, and for the first time in a fortnight, the results were satisfying to him.
"I have been expecting the end of withdrawal symptoms for two days now", he explained, "Your readings confirm my hypothesis that you´ve been through the worst. Hallucinations and fever should have ended now. You will, however, remain quite weak for some time. Your magic needs time to return to you, and you mustn´t overexert yourself until you´re ready."
With a quick gesture of his wand, the cuffs vanished and she sighed in relief. Slowly, she sat up and carefully massaged her wrists. Dark blue bruises and rests of dried blood showed were she had struggled against her confinement.
"You look tired", she suddenly said, catching him unprepared once more, "What did you dream of, Professor?"
Shocked by the straightforwardness of her question, his gaze met her eyes, dark with fatigue and pain, and Severus knew that she knew.
"None of your business, Miss Granger", he snarled, angry that she had witnessed enough to interpret his nightmare correctly, "Your curiosity and bad manners are not wanted here."
She flinched as if he´d hit her, and he cursed his self-defences that had prompted his harsh words.
"If you are feeling well enough for it, you should consider a little journey to the bathroom, Miss Granger. A warm bath might do you good."
She nodded silently. Moving with the frailty of an old woman, she carefully placed her feet on the floor and struggled to get up. He was by her side in a heartbeat, gently helping her up and offering her a warm robe, which she took gratefully, but with a wary expression in her face. Clearly she expected some nastiness from him, but he remained quiet while he led her over to the bathroom door.
"Can you manage?", he asked her neutrally. The idea of Professor Snape helping her into a warm bath clearly seemed to shock her, and she nodded vigorously. Still, her steps were clumsy and insecure, and she had to rest against the door frame for a moment before she managed to close the bathroom door behind her.
For a moment, he waited if she would call for help or reappear, then he walked over to her cupboard and started searching for a fresh pair of pyjamas. But a stifled cry from inside the bathroom made him whirl around and cross the room in long strides. He ripped open the door and found her lying flat on the floor, palms pressed to the tiles. She was breathing quickly and her face was almost as white as the bathroom tiles.
"What happened?", he asked and crouched down beside her, "Here, let me help you up."
"It was nothing, Professor", she refused weakly, "I just blacked out or something. Sorry to bother you, I can really manage alone!"
She averted his eyes, fighting as hard as she could to get up on her own. She fears I will insult her again, he realized taken aback.
But the stinging remark never came. Instead, she felt two hands under her armpits, gently helping her up and over to the side of the bathtub.
"Just sit down for a moment", he advised her while leaving the room and returning with the pyjamas after a second, "I have brought you some clothes to change into. Take your time and don´t hasten. You haven´t left the bed for nearly a week."
Pure bewilderment was written on her face as she stared at him for a moment, speechless with surprise. Then, she visibly pulled herself together and nodded.
"Thank you very much, Professor", she answered finally, "If you wouldn´t mind, you could contact Professor Dumbledore in the meantime. Now that the worst is over, I could easily move into a guestroom and not disturb you further…"
"That won´t be necessary", he cut her short and moved over to the door again, "You will stay here as long as your reconvalescence might take."
"But Professor, I thought you wanted me gone…"
"Rest, Miss Granger. Rest and heal. We will talk later", and with that, Severus Snape closed the bathroom door, leaving a very confused Hermione behind who stared after him as if she had seen a ghost.
-
A/N: Once again: Thanks for the reviews! It astonishes me how many people like this story!
If someone hasn´t received an answer to a review yet, it might be because you haven´t left your mail address, or because I simply didn´t have the time. But I thought you´d like a new chapter better than an answer to your review... But I will answer. Promise!
The next chapter will be very dark again, and angsty, but it should answer a lot of your questions. Watch out for Heart of Darkness, Part II...
And review! The Heart will be so much darker if you review!