Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, no money being made.
A/N: What you see here was only supposed to be half of chapter 3, but as I'm having some trouble developing the Hannah/Helaena back story, I decided to post this by itself. I'll try to get the updates up in a more timely fashion henceforth, if anyone cares. =0)
Dimensions
Chapter 3: Waking Up
"Why does that Poppy Pomfrey insist upon treating every patient as though they were the minister of bloody magic?" bristled Professor Snape, stalking through the corridor on the way from the infirmary.
"Oh I don't know, Severus," replied Professor McGonagal sharply. "Perhaps it has something to do with human compassion?" She was still smarting from Snape's biting remarks in the infirmary.
"Minerva, Serverus," Dumbledore calmly interjected, preventing the exchange from escalating further. "Quite frankly, I'm at a loss. If either of you have any theories that may serve to explain our mysterious guest's arrival, I'm all ears."
Snape snorted at the characterization of guest, but made no immediate reply.
"You know who?" ventured McGonagal. "It seems he's taken to his sickly sport with muggles again...maybe he left her here as a message, or some sort of warning?"
"No Minerva," Snape curtly responded. A dark look pervaded his sharp features. "Were it the dark lord, I'm afraid she wouldn't have been quite...what's the word? Intact. That sniveling beast Hagrid would have been picking up pieces of her for days to come."
Dumbledore whirled in front of a staircase, his deep purple robes swirling around his feet, and laid a hand gently on McGonagal's shoulder to keep her from responding in kind. She appeared to bite her tongue, then issued a deep sigh.
"How is dear Hagrid holding up?" she queried.
"He'll recover," answered Dumbledore. The poor lad, he takes things so hard. I had Professor Sprout escort him back to his cabin and brew him some pinna root tea. It's known for it's calming capabilities" It was almost funny, someone referring to the half giant Hagrid as a 'lad.' To Albus Dumbledore, however, even the oldest and largest seemed as children.
"I am anxious to know your appraisal of the situation, Severus" said McGonagal, with more than a touch of exasperation in her tone.
"While I am certain she was not a victim of the dark lord, I am not prepared to eliminate the possibility of his involvement entirely. " Snape replied in a soft, yet almost menacing voice. "After all, nothing less than powerful dark magic could have allowed her to apparate onto Hogwarts grounds."
"Apparate, Severus?" shot McGonagal incredulously. "That's impossible, dark magic or no."
"Then the only other possible explanation would involve the dark lord leaving her here as a trap. A decoy perhaps, or a spy. Knowing that the more, erm, overzealously sentimental elements at this school would insist upon nursing her to health. What do the muggles call it? A Trajen's horse?"
"Ever so optimistic of you Severus," mumbled McGonagal.
"At any rate," continued Snape, "I contend that we deposit her at the nearest Muggle hospital and be done with it."
"Severus!" exclaimed McGonagal, this time unable to mask her disgust. "Do you honestly think that those bungling muggle physicians would be able to do a thing for her? Without magical healing she will surely die!"
"And what a pity that would be," spat Snape sarcastically. He turned to make his appeals to the headmaster. "Albus, we are at war. If we are to defeat the dark lord, we must be cautious and prudent in decision and action. We cannot afford to take risks. By allowing that girl to remain, we may very well be putting the entire school in danger."
"Your sentiments are noted, Severus," replied Dumbledore. "However, to assume the worst about an ailing stranger is taking a mighty risk as well. I will not have us adding to the death toll if there is something we can do to help. We'll simply have to be patient, and do all we can to hasten her awakening. Classes reconvene in a week; I would very much like to put this matter to rest by then."
With a slight gesture of dismissal, Dumbledore ascended the staircase to his quarters and disapeared from site.
As Severus Snape made his way to the dungeons, he couldn't shake off the disquieting feeling that had come over him the minute he'd first caught site of the mysterious girl. Something was....off about her. As he settled into his office and began diagramming lessons for the first few weeks of classes, he found his mind returning again and again to the unconscious woman in the infirmary. She looked to be in her mid to early 20's, with skin so pale it was almost translucent.
"Why is it that I dwell so!" Snape cursed himself as he angrily dipped his quill into an ink well, spraying droplets of ebony liquid all over the desk. He had to fight off the urge time and again to revisit the infirmary, to peak in on her, to see if he could determine the source of his unrest by gazing on her one more time.
"An enchantment it must be," muttered Snape under his breathe as he put away his parchments and readied himself for bed. "But I will not be drawn in!" He settled beneath the thick, downy covers of his bed more convinced that before that the unexpected visitor was a harbinger of evil.
Professor Severus Snape got no respite from the apparition in his sleep either. All night long, the image of a petite, red haired female danced through is dreams. She whirled about, her skirts billowing as she she laughed a rather oddly hysterical, almost maniacal sort of laugh. The Potion's Master felt as though he were being drug along on some fantastical ride, almost like being caught in a particularly strong river current; engulfed completely, surrounded in a cool that was nearly intoxicating, advancing rapidly, when...
Something terrible. A pain seized his body as Severus Snape awoke with a start.
He couldn't recall what had occured within his nocturnal vision, only that he felt a sorrow so all consuming, a sting of loss so great, that it jarred him from his slumber.
"Where is that dreamless sleep draught," he half spoke, half yawned as he fumbled through his private stores. Whatever it was that had troubled his sleeping mind, he didn't care to experience it again.
Just as he was about to take a swig from the bottle, her heard a scream; high pitched, broken, and cachaphonous, that shot darts of ice into his blood.
Instinctively he made for the door, and just as he over took the threshold he heard the unmistakable sound of a voice being magically amplified. A frazzled sounding Madame Pomfrey stammered.
"P-Proffessers! Please, come quickly!! The, the girl, she's a-awake!"
A/N: What you see here was only supposed to be half of chapter 3, but as I'm having some trouble developing the Hannah/Helaena back story, I decided to post this by itself. I'll try to get the updates up in a more timely fashion henceforth, if anyone cares. =0)
Dimensions
Chapter 3: Waking Up
"Why does that Poppy Pomfrey insist upon treating every patient as though they were the minister of bloody magic?" bristled Professor Snape, stalking through the corridor on the way from the infirmary.
"Oh I don't know, Severus," replied Professor McGonagal sharply. "Perhaps it has something to do with human compassion?" She was still smarting from Snape's biting remarks in the infirmary.
"Minerva, Serverus," Dumbledore calmly interjected, preventing the exchange from escalating further. "Quite frankly, I'm at a loss. If either of you have any theories that may serve to explain our mysterious guest's arrival, I'm all ears."
Snape snorted at the characterization of guest, but made no immediate reply.
"You know who?" ventured McGonagal. "It seems he's taken to his sickly sport with muggles again...maybe he left her here as a message, or some sort of warning?"
"No Minerva," Snape curtly responded. A dark look pervaded his sharp features. "Were it the dark lord, I'm afraid she wouldn't have been quite...what's the word? Intact. That sniveling beast Hagrid would have been picking up pieces of her for days to come."
Dumbledore whirled in front of a staircase, his deep purple robes swirling around his feet, and laid a hand gently on McGonagal's shoulder to keep her from responding in kind. She appeared to bite her tongue, then issued a deep sigh.
"How is dear Hagrid holding up?" she queried.
"He'll recover," answered Dumbledore. The poor lad, he takes things so hard. I had Professor Sprout escort him back to his cabin and brew him some pinna root tea. It's known for it's calming capabilities" It was almost funny, someone referring to the half giant Hagrid as a 'lad.' To Albus Dumbledore, however, even the oldest and largest seemed as children.
"I am anxious to know your appraisal of the situation, Severus" said McGonagal, with more than a touch of exasperation in her tone.
"While I am certain she was not a victim of the dark lord, I am not prepared to eliminate the possibility of his involvement entirely. " Snape replied in a soft, yet almost menacing voice. "After all, nothing less than powerful dark magic could have allowed her to apparate onto Hogwarts grounds."
"Apparate, Severus?" shot McGonagal incredulously. "That's impossible, dark magic or no."
"Then the only other possible explanation would involve the dark lord leaving her here as a trap. A decoy perhaps, or a spy. Knowing that the more, erm, overzealously sentimental elements at this school would insist upon nursing her to health. What do the muggles call it? A Trajen's horse?"
"Ever so optimistic of you Severus," mumbled McGonagal.
"At any rate," continued Snape, "I contend that we deposit her at the nearest Muggle hospital and be done with it."
"Severus!" exclaimed McGonagal, this time unable to mask her disgust. "Do you honestly think that those bungling muggle physicians would be able to do a thing for her? Without magical healing she will surely die!"
"And what a pity that would be," spat Snape sarcastically. He turned to make his appeals to the headmaster. "Albus, we are at war. If we are to defeat the dark lord, we must be cautious and prudent in decision and action. We cannot afford to take risks. By allowing that girl to remain, we may very well be putting the entire school in danger."
"Your sentiments are noted, Severus," replied Dumbledore. "However, to assume the worst about an ailing stranger is taking a mighty risk as well. I will not have us adding to the death toll if there is something we can do to help. We'll simply have to be patient, and do all we can to hasten her awakening. Classes reconvene in a week; I would very much like to put this matter to rest by then."
With a slight gesture of dismissal, Dumbledore ascended the staircase to his quarters and disapeared from site.
As Severus Snape made his way to the dungeons, he couldn't shake off the disquieting feeling that had come over him the minute he'd first caught site of the mysterious girl. Something was....off about her. As he settled into his office and began diagramming lessons for the first few weeks of classes, he found his mind returning again and again to the unconscious woman in the infirmary. She looked to be in her mid to early 20's, with skin so pale it was almost translucent.
"Why is it that I dwell so!" Snape cursed himself as he angrily dipped his quill into an ink well, spraying droplets of ebony liquid all over the desk. He had to fight off the urge time and again to revisit the infirmary, to peak in on her, to see if he could determine the source of his unrest by gazing on her one more time.
"An enchantment it must be," muttered Snape under his breathe as he put away his parchments and readied himself for bed. "But I will not be drawn in!" He settled beneath the thick, downy covers of his bed more convinced that before that the unexpected visitor was a harbinger of evil.
Professor Severus Snape got no respite from the apparition in his sleep either. All night long, the image of a petite, red haired female danced through is dreams. She whirled about, her skirts billowing as she she laughed a rather oddly hysterical, almost maniacal sort of laugh. The Potion's Master felt as though he were being drug along on some fantastical ride, almost like being caught in a particularly strong river current; engulfed completely, surrounded in a cool that was nearly intoxicating, advancing rapidly, when...
Something terrible. A pain seized his body as Severus Snape awoke with a start.
He couldn't recall what had occured within his nocturnal vision, only that he felt a sorrow so all consuming, a sting of loss so great, that it jarred him from his slumber.
"Where is that dreamless sleep draught," he half spoke, half yawned as he fumbled through his private stores. Whatever it was that had troubled his sleeping mind, he didn't care to experience it again.
Just as he was about to take a swig from the bottle, her heard a scream; high pitched, broken, and cachaphonous, that shot darts of ice into his blood.
Instinctively he made for the door, and just as he over took the threshold he heard the unmistakable sound of a voice being magically amplified. A frazzled sounding Madame Pomfrey stammered.
"P-Proffessers! Please, come quickly!! The, the girl, she's a-awake!"