Chapter 11

"Severus!" Hermione looked up in surprise. "What are you doing out here?"

Severus looked down at her, one eyebrow quirked. She was sitting alone in one of the gardens, and he'd gone to great pains to seek her out.

"Skipping class," he told her. Hermione gave him a dark look, but Severus brushed it off. "The instructors are reviewing today, and I already learned it all the first time around. I figured I could learn more from you."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Learn what from me, exactly?"

"The things they're not telling us," Severus told her. "The basis of their magic system, for one. What it means to be dominant in void, for another. What gemstone is on your ring, and what it represents-"

"This?" Hermione said, looking down at her ring. She looked back up. "It's a fire opal."

"Fine. What element does it signify?"

"Life."

Severus paused.

"The Chinese don't have an element of life," he said.

"They do. They just haven't formally discovered it yet."

Severus gave her a look, and Hermione flushed.

"I'm telling the truth," she insisted. "The entire Chinese magic system is based on harmony. Water balances fire, air balances earth, and life balances void."

"For example," she continued, "when you levitate something, you harmonize it with the air. When you set it back down, you harmonize it with the earth. I think that's why you're so good at Chinese magic."

Severus hid his surprise. "Because it's based on harmony?"

"Your potions expertise seems to flow from a natural understanding of the core natures of ingredients," Hermione explained. "Whenever you've been making improvements to potions, you've harmonized the forces better."

Severus felt flattered despite himself.

"What of void, then?" he asked. "How can Tom use a ring of nothingness?"

Hermione smile faded away.

"The other elements react to void through fear," she said. "Everything alive fears being nothing."

"And yours?" Severus prompted.

"Using the life element calls to the spirit in everything and renews it," Hermione said. "The elements are more than willing to come to my call."

"If void and life are polar opposites and incompatible," Severus said, his eyes holding hers. "Then why does Harry wear both?"

Hermione's eyes met Severus'.

"You're sharp, to have noticed that," she said.

He quirked a brow. "Sharp enough to know you're avoiding the question."

Hermione looked at Severus for a long moment, holding his gaze.

"Harry has undergone a trauma," Hermione said. "We suspect it left something behind that calls him to the void. Once the remnant left in him is gone, we suspect that Harry will use a ring of life."

"'We'?" Severus questioned.

"Me, Harry, and Ron," Hermione told him. "We're the ones running the Young Adventurer's Club."

"I noticed," Severus said, non-committal. "Though, I'll admit that I didn't realize Ron was that high up in the chain of command..."

"Ron's our strategist," Hermione said. "He'll be more useful later, when all the action starts. I'm the researcher – I'm the one who's most useful now."

Severus had surmised as much. Talking about Ron wasn't interesting to him.

"Harry had a trauma?" he said instead.

Hermione looked grim.

"He survived the Killing Curse."

Severus gave her a slow, measuring look.

"You're not talking about your experimental method of surviving Avada Kedavra, are you?"

"No. It was old, powerful magic, borderline dark. A life to save a life." Hermione looked unsettled. "Not easily replicated. Certainly not duplicable."

"Not without a willing loss of life." Severus considered her words. "Is that what you're researching?" he asked. "A way to fix Harry from his trauma?"

She looked at him sideways. "In a way."

"Would you like assistance?"

Now, Hermione looked surprised.

"You're offering to help me?" she asked. "You would do that?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't mean it," Severus said, a small smile playing around his lips.

"It'd be a lot of work," Hermione said slowly. "You'd miss most of your Chinese magic lessons."

Severus snorted.

"Learn magic from teachers that I could easily get from a book, or help solve an esoteric magical puzzle," he said, his eyes glinting. "I wonder which one I would choose."

To his surprise and delight, Hermione laughed, musical peals of laughter that rang around the garden, and Severus felt himself smile slowly in response, somehow proud that he had made her laugh.

"You've done a bit of growing up here, haven't you?" she mused, her eyes dancing. "You're not just a school boy anymore."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer it if I were?"

The thorough, calculating, look she gave him sent shivers of desire through his body, and his heart caught in his throat as her eyes lingered on his lips and chest.

"I daresay I like you this way better," she told him. "Much better. Let's get started."

Severus and Hermione quickly fell into a routine. In the mornings, after breakfast, Hermione would cast complicated translation spells on whatever they were to work on for the day and tell him what to look for. They would spend the morning reading, pouring over ancient documents and tomes. There would be a break for lunch, and afterward, they would discuss their findings, often arguing about what their discoveries meant.

Severus found the entire process fascinating, and Hermione's spirited company highly enjoyable as well.

It became apparent that Hermione was looking for anything and everything to do with souls in the documents they had found. Any mention of soul, soul sickness, or soul shards was carefully analyzed and dissected, with Hermione matching the new information up to her own system of information she had in her head. Often, she would shake her head in disappointment after pouring over the relevant passages, but occasionally a thoughtful look would come into her eye, and she would read over it, her lips wordlessly murmuring as she read, committed the necessary phrase or paragraph to memory.

Though he never asked, Severus wondered what about souls she was researching. Soul magic was dark and forbidden. All he knew, really, was that souls could be torn and scarred from casting dark magic, especially the Unforgivables, and that in particularly dark cases, could be riven in two. The fact that Hermione searched for it so hard convinced Severus that she must be searching for a way to heal souls, and Severus had a suspicious inkling as to why.

Though he was well-liked by everyone, Harry seemed to occasionally fall into dark moods. He would glower, glare, and snap at people. Though Ron and Hermione ignored his outbursts and treated him as they always did, his fellow squad leaders would simply avoid him and give him a wide berth. Harry's own squad members chalked it up to the stress of running the entire organization or being frustrated with some aspect of what he was doing for the emperor, but Severus couldn't help but wonder.

He'd never seen Harry cast magic using his ring, despite them being in China. He always had his wand, a firm determination to use it in his eyes. At times, he seemed feverish and disturbed, his eyes sharp and paranoid. Hermione would lead him away, quietly talking to him, resting a hand on his shoulder as they walked. It was rare to see Harry in such a way, but Severus could from the reactions of others that these episodes were nothing new, and Severus wondered how Harry's soul had been torn.

It had to be soul-sickness; Severus was convinced. The mental instability and mood swings were clear indicators – they had learned what to look for, in Slytherin house, to see if a classmate was losing their mind to the Dark. Severus suspected that they'd screened applicants for soul-sickness not only on the basis of finding good, moral people who'd never used the Dark Arts, but also not to exacerbate Harry's own condition – having two soul-sick people in close quarters could have bad outcomes.

In that, Severus was insatiably curious. Everything about Harry seemed to be hard, strong determination and selflessness. He cared for the others and listened to everyone, and he was a charismatic leader, one that they had all grown to admire and look up to. If there was a war, Severus was sure that Harry would be a hero, courageously leading his troops against the opposition into battle. Nothing about him seemed to indicate that he would ever use the Dark Arts or an Unforgivable. Nevertheless, something must have happened to scar his soul.

Severus suspected it must have happened when there was an attempt on his life. Hermione had mentioned the old, powerful magics that had saved his life, but she'd said nothing of what Harry had done afterward. After his foe had tried and failed to kill him, had Harry killed his opponent in a rage? Had part of the magic failed, and part of Harry's soul was hit and cut away? Severus was curious, but he did not raise the issue with Hermione, knowing she would only grow cold.

Hermione was incredible, in Severus' eyes. He had always thought so, and he had nearly idolized her when he first joined the Young Adventurer's Club. She had been his savior, delivering him from his coming choice of doom at Hogwarts, and his savior from his childhood bullies, who she made beg for redemption at his feet. She'd bantered with him about potions and his Blood-Replenishing Potions, revealing a brilliant, sharp mind and dazzling him with her knowledge, and then when she'd kissed him on the first night, her eyes glittering in the moon, she'd become a goddess in his eyes.

Severus had known his infatuation for what it was, and though he had tried to get closer to her, Severus didn't honestly think he'd ever have a chance with Hermione, despite what he'd told Tom. Hermione was too brilliant to associate with the likes of him, and much too busy to be distracted by mere members of her club.

Now, though – Hermione was beginning to see him as an equal, and Severus reveled in the attention. Though they argued and fought over their discoveries more often than not, he could tell that Hermione enjoyed it – that she hadn't had someone to have an equal battle of wits with in a long, long time. Her eyes lit with unexpected pleasure whenever he delivered a particularly cutting barb, and she retorted back viciously, giving just as good as she got.

Even if she gave him nothing else, Severus was surprised to realize he had made a friend. A real friend, who he could be himself around, as sarcastic and cutting as that was.

Despite their growing friendship, Severus was wary of asking too many questions. He knew that Hermione didn't want to discuss her work in-depth, and he still remembered her reaction the one time he'd asked about her timeline. When the topic was finally broached, it was Hermione that brought it up, one afternoon as they researched.

"It says here that the sacrificed child's soul escaped," Severus said, pointing to the relevant passage. "It went up to the sun, as part of the sacrifice."

Hermione ran a hand through her hair anxiously. "But even with the ritual ring they used? The one that made a child an avatar of evil?"

"The Incans made no effort to heal the child's soul before or after," Severus told her. Hermione groaned and flopped back into the couch.

"Damn," she said. "I had such high hopes for this scroll. It had enough wards on it to make me think it'd be something more."

She bit her lip, thinking deeply, and Severus read on. After several minutes, his eyes snagged on a particular phrase.

"Hermione," he said. "I think I've found something. A spell."

"What is it?" Hermione came over to look, bending over his shoulder from behind, and Severus was achingly aware of her breasts pressing against his back.

"This." Severus fought his dry mouth to indicate the relevant passage. "This spell looks like it will-"

"It'll heal someone's who's soul has been ripped," Hermione said. She sighed. "I already found this spell."

"You did?" Severus' tone betrayed his surprise. "When?"

"When I found the Incan disarming spell," Hermione said. "I told you – there were two good finds. The Disarming spell, and this one."

Severus wracked his mind. "The one that would seriously drain you? That you said you'd have to try in combat?"

"That's the one."

"Hermione," Severus said, his voice careful. "Why would you need to do it in combat?"

Hermione gave him a quizzical look.

"There's no one here with a torn soul," she told him. "We screened for soul-sickness."

"I know that," Severus said patiently. "But isn't there someone else? Someone that wasn't screened?"

Understanding dawned on Hermione's face.

"Harry's soul has not been torn," Hermione said firmly. "He wouldn't be affected by the spell. That's why I need to try it in combat – we'll be coming up against some people who I've known have torn their souls."

"As you say."

"Harry is not soul sick," Hermione said. "Severus, listen to me. Severus."

She came around and sat down next to Severus. She took his hands in hers, looking into his eyes.

"Severus, Harry is not soul-sick. He may have some symptoms of soul-sickness, but he has never torn or riven his soul."

"Why does he exhibit symptoms, then?"

"He has the same symptoms of bipolar disorder as well," Hermione shot back.

"Does Harry have bipolar disorder?"

"No. But he also doesn't have soul-sickness."

Severus gave her a look, and Hermione sighed.

"Severus. Soul-sickness manifests in a very different manner than the mood swings Harry undergoes," she told him. "Have you ever seen someone who's soul-riven?"

Severus regarded her for a long moment. "No."

"Then let me show you."

"How?" Severus scoffed. "We don't have anyone who's soul-sick here."

"No," Hermione said. "But I've seen people who were soul-sick. Fought them. Let me show you."

Her eyes met his again, and this time, Severus knew it was deliberate.

"...are you sure?" he asked quietly. "Hermione, if I see something I'm not supposed to in there..."

Hermione winced.

"What you'll see is a secret that would have come out soon enough, anyway," she admitted. "We're going to battle some of these people at the end of the month."

She shifted on the couch, putting her back against the armrest. Severus' eyes met hers steadily.

"Ready?"

She bit her lip. "As I'll ever be."

Severus nodded and withdrew his wand. "Legilimens."

There was a falling sensation, and suddenly he was in her mind.

He was in her mind, not just getting glimpses of different memories as he did with most people. It was as if he'd fallen into a Pensieve, watching a memory play out. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was in a darkened hallway, surrounded by marble, and Severus was reminded of the Ministry of Magic.

There was an echoing scream, and Severus whirled around.

Hermione was running down the hallway, terrified. She was younger, Severus could tell, and her classmates were spilling into the hallway as well – Severus thought he could make out Harry and Neville. Hermione ran right through Severus, as if he were a ghost, and a moment later, a dark-haired, wild-looking woman ran through him as well, hurling spells at Hermione.

"Little Mudblood! Come out and play~!"

The woman hurled another dark hex at her, which Hermione dodged, and as Severus ran to keep up, Severus was astonished to realize he recognized the dark witch.

Bellatrix...

The resemblance was undeniable. Bellatrix Black's black curls were the same, as were her too-big, dark eyes. Her hair had gone wild, as had her eyes, but there was no mistaking her sharp features and her crooked wand.

Severus watched as Bellatrix hurled curse after curse, Hermione dodging and counter-casting as fast as she could. There was a loud crash from a nearby room, and Bellatrix turned and ran. Another man ran past her, hurling a curse at Hermione, who cried out as she was hit.

Abruptly, Severus was thrown from the memory back into himself, and both he and Hermione were panting.

"I didn't realize it'd be like reliving it," Hermione said, her eyes slightly wild. "Sorry. But yeah – that's what a soul-sick person-"

"You were hit." Severus didn't realize he had growled until he heard himself. "Where?"

Hermione looked at him, her breathing still erratic.

"It was years ago," Hermione said. "It's fine, Severus-"

"Where?"

He was leaning over her now, his eyes boring into hers. He was aware of Hermione's body, her pulse fluttering in her neck, an after effect of the adrenaline they both felt. Her eyes met his, and her breathing shifted.

Wordlessly, she pushed her robes open and tugged down the neckline of her blouse.

"Here."

She stopped just above the tops of her breasts. There was a star-like scar on her breastbone, a bolt branching out like a tree. Severus raised a hand to her, tracing her scar with her fingertips.

"Do you want it?"

"I've always hated it," Hermione admitted. "But Madame Pomfrey said..."

Severus hushed her, laying a finger on her lips. Hermione's eyes dilated further still, and Severus felt himself drawn to her lips. It was a struggle to move his fingers from her mouth back down to her chest, but he managed it, spreading his palm over the entirety of her scar.

"Quányù liáoshāng," he breathed. "Fùyuánchōu yù."

A painful tingling rushed through his arm and out into Hermione, who gasped, but Severus held on, gritting his teeth. The resistance lessened a moment later, and both Severus and Hermione watched as her skin healed and closed up, new skin smoothing over the place where she had been cursed.

He stopped, panting, and his eyes met Hermione's.

Hermione's eyes were a warm brown, but Severus had never noticed the little flecks of amber in them or the small ring of honey brown surrounding her pupil. Her eyes were like gems, sparkling with light and subtle shifts in color, and Severus wondered what kind of element they would call to, if used with a ring – there didn't seem to be any element pure enough to be channeled through such beauty.

Her pupils dilated, and Severus realized his hand was still on her breast. He snatched it back, feeling his face heat.

"My apologies," he muttered. "I had-"

"Don't." Hermione said firmly. She took his hand in hers, holding it. "Severus..."

He looked at her, his breath catching. Her eyes were endless, like scrying pools.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked. "I've never read of such a spell..."

"I made it up," Severus told her. "Words for healing. I harmonized your scar with my undamaged skin, and the rest..."

He trailed off, throat dry, and Hermione shook her head, her eyes never leaving his.

"You could have used some of your life force to heal me, if you weren't careful," she said. "You could have burned out your core."

"I was fairly certain it would work," Severus countered, though he felt breathless. "I have enough experience at this point to stop mid-spell if the forces aren't harmonizing properly."

"It was dangerous."

"It was worth it," Severus told her fiercely. "Hermione, even if it drained some of my life force, it would have been what, seconds? Minutes? Next to your pain, that is nothing. I would give much more to have you whole."

Hermione shook her head, not looking at him.

"You shouldn't. Not you," she said. "Your life should be your own. Don't waste your life on superficial scars on me-"

"My life is my own," Severus told her. He caught her chin in his hand, and moved her face up to meet his. "If I want to spend parts of it to make you happy, it is my choice, Hermione."

Her eyes widened, her mouth opening in a small, wordless oh. Severus stroked her cheek, mesmerized by her eyes, and her lips fluttered.

"Hermione! The alchemist says there's no fluxweed!"

Harry came through the door, looking at a piece of parchment, and Severus and Hermione quickly tore themselves apart.

"There's not?" Hermione said, standing up, her mind sharp again once more. "Harry, they must have some. Don't they trade with the Mongolians to the north?"

"They do, but the Mongol government has been threatening trying to breach the wall. It's putting pressure on all the traders..."

Severus let their words run through his ears unheard as he sat back, trying to regain his composure. Hermione seemed to have rapidly regained her own – there was only a slight pink tone on her face and the rumbled robes around her neck to indicate anything of what they had done, and she was now arguing with Harry about the necessity of the fluxweed.

If Harry hadn't interrupted them, Severus would have kissed her, and he wasn't sure he'd have been able to stop.

He sighed.

"Can I assume that the fluxweed is needed to brew Wolfsbane?" he asked aloud, and both Harry and Hermione turned to him. "To prevent an unseemly accident with our friend Lupin when the moon rises tomorrow?"

Harry gave him a surprised look. "Wolfsbane wasn't invented in your time," he said.

"It was published in the last Potions Quarterly before you recruited me."

Harry looked impressed. He turned to Hermione, who looked measuring.

"Is it for Wolfsbane?" Severus repeated.

"And if it was?" she challenged.

"Well, then." He smirked. "I just might be able to help."