By Tegan
Echoes
Chapter 6: The Aftermath
As Hermione awoke from her deep sleep, she lay motionless, eyes still closed. Her body ached and trembled from the cold, hard floor, but she was too exhausted to move. She may have been prodded awake by the frigid air that seeped through her thin clothes gnawing at her very bones, or the aches in her neck and body caused by the awkward way her body twisted as she slept, or the terrible pounding in her head. She wasn't sure what had roused her from her sleep, in fact at that moment she was quite unsure of everything.
As consciousness slowly came to her, she realized that she was definitely not in her warm, soft bed. A tinge of fear tensed through her, not knowing where she was or to whom the lumpy warm body beneath her belonged. Her eyes fluttered open and she was greeted with utter darkness.
She shot up quickly and instantly found it to be a horrible mistake, as the pain in her head flooded her whole body with cold nausea. She leaned forward grabbing her head trying to steady herself.
In the blackness, she fumbled for her wand, directing it at nothing. She muttered, "Lumos," and the small cave lit up.
Her memory of last night flooded into her mind, and her heart began to ache with the rest of her body. She breathed in deeply and her eyes lowered to the ground.
Next to her, Harry moved slightly. He looked peaceful, as his breath misted gently in the air. She looked around to see that they were alone with the rocks and dirt, and no apparent way to leave.
As she moved to sit against the wall, Hermione's initial confusion was now replaced with new fears and worries, and her mind spun with questions. Snape was gone, and he had almost definitely returned to the castle. She wished she knew how long he had been gone. Her head and stomach tensed at the thought of the many horrible things that could have happened to him along the way. It was not certain by any means who had won the battle from last night. From what she remembered, Voldemort's followers appeared to have a distinct advantage, and Dumbledore had been hurt. Soon these thoughts became too much, and she brought her knees up to her chest, resting her head and breathing into her legs to calm herself.
"Hermione?" Harry's voice pulled her from her awful thoughts. She turned her head to see him looking confusedly up at her, his eyes squinted.
"Professor Snape is gone," her voice sounded hoarse and weak.
Harry sat up awkwardly putting his glasses on and looking around. She realized that she felt as filthy and haggard as he looked.
"He must have gone back to the castle," he said wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I wouldn't worry about Snape."
Hermione did worry.
"How are you doing?" He asked, as he moved to sit next to her.
Hermione took a deep breath, which only made her more nauseous. "Honestly," she paused, "I feel like I've been dunked in a vat of cooking oil, then rolled around in a dust bin."
Harry laughed slightly leaning his head back.
"My skin feels like it's crawling," he added scratching his forearm. "A bath would be really nice right about now."
"Any water would be wonderful," she exclaimed, as she put her head back on her knees. "My throat is so dry."
Concern for their own safety began to weigh on her mind as well as concern for Snape's. If he did not return, she had no idea how to leave.
Suddenly, Snape's head appeared through the stone slab.
He stared coldly at them as he spoke.
"We can return," and with out another word, his head disappeared back into the cave wall.
Hermione was filled with sudden relief at his safe return, however, as quickly as all her worries had been eased, new questions replaced the old.
Hermione hesitated for a moment before following. She had some idea where the exit was, and she knew it had to be similar to the entrance to the Hogwarts Express at platform nine and three-quarters. She stood up weakly, and carefully ran her hands over the cool rock. She was soon rewarded as her hand sank into the stone, disappearing as if underwater. Her fingers tingled slightly as she touched the magic.
Hermione closed her eyes and slid her body through, tiny sensations running over her skin.
When she opened her eyes, she was surrounded by the snowy forest.
The storm had ended, and a soft breeze swept through her matted hair. It was early morning and though bleak, the world was calm. The wind was gentle, though cool, and the trees, which had writhed and twisted so violently last night swayed lightly. Though cloudy and hazy, the forest was still bright enough to hurt her eyes, which made the pounding in her head turn to sharp pains.
As Hermione adapted to her new surroundings, she saw Snape's cloak head into the dense forest.
The group trudged through the snow, in a long drawn out line for more than a few minutes. Hermione followed as Snape's black cloak rippled in the distance. The light breeze on her face and the snow in her shoes did not bother her, as much as the questions that rang in her head.
She had decided to keep her distance, not knowing how to act around Snape. Soon however, she found that the trees and shrubs and snow would not answer any of her questions, so she quickened her pace to catch up to Snape.
"What happened? Is everyone all right?" Hermione asked breathlessly, when she had finally caught up to him.
Snape's face was shuttered and blank giving nothing away.
"The castle still stands. Dumbledore was able to break the final Curse before Hogwarts' protections were destroyed."
Hermione watched and listened as Snape reverted back to his cold analytical self. Any hint of emotion lost with the night. Though to Hermione, Snape may have seemed unfeeling, the truth was quite the opposite.
Deep emotions currently filled the Potion Master, brought on by the events of last night. He had almost lost the woman he loved only to later watch her sleep, wrapped in the arms of another man. Now, he had to push these feelings aside, and it was taking more than a little effort as she walked so near him. He picked up his pace a bit.
"Are Dean and Trevor all right?" She looked up at him uncertainly, almost tripping over a stump that was in her way as they moved quickly through the forest.
His hand went out reflexively to steady her. He glanced down, and their eyes met momentarily. An instant later, his head shot up and he dropped her hand.
"I didn't ask," he replied dryly, not looking at her.
Snape's short answers hardly helped ease Hermione's mind, and definitely did not prepare her for what she was to find as they approached the castle.
From a distance, the castle looked more like a surreal Salvador Dali painting than any building or ruin she had ever seen.
The large trees were no longer straining against the castle, but their devastation was apparent. Huge stone blocks were strewn around, as well as branches and limbs that covered the grounds and hung out the broken windows. Black scorch marks ran up the towers that twisted and curved like a roller coaster. Hermione stared in disbelief at Gryffindor Tower, which was so bent, that it arched over the main portion of the castle. Hermione wondered how the castle still stood. It was crooked in all the wrong places and huge chunks of the wall were missing leaving open gaps.
As she neared the school, the scent of burnt hair reached Hermione's nose. She clenched her hands into fists trying not to think about the reasons for the awful smell.
As she entered through the main hall, now missing its doors, Hermione looked up at Snape, whose expression remained hard and emotionless. The outside elements entered as easily as she, and the haze continued into the castle. In just a single evening, the Entrance Hall's appearance and atmosphere had altered dramatically.
Hermione remembered how warm and inviting the hall had been. The towering Christmas trees had sparkled with glittering bulbs and candles, while the armor sang carols, and the large painting of a family celebrated the happy holidays. Now however, the trees lay as splinters and logs piled so high that they had to be climbed over. The armor was in pieces, parts embedded into the lumber, and the painting was indistinguishable from the masses of debris scattered on the floor.
Owls of all sizes and shapes swooped in around them in the cool breezy air. Some were perched up above watching with small letters in their beaks. Others were gliding down the stairs to the lower levels. Still others flapped wildly leaving the area, empty handed.
Hermione's feet crunched on smaller debris as she kicked larger pieces aside. She became saddened at the thought of what the rubble had once been.
She assumed they would be going to Dumbledore's office, but soon realized they were heading in the wrong direction.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked suspiciously.
Snape chose to ignore his inquiry.
"Shouldn't we be going to see Dumbledore?" Harry persisted.
Snape only grunted.
"Dumbledore must not be in his office Harry," Hermione whispered having no intention of Snape hearing.
"Obviously," Snape spat impatiently, "The towers are hardly suitable at present."
He stopped at the top of the stairs, and sighed, "Madam Pomfrey has turned the Kitchens into a temporary Infirmary. There are no windows and the lower levels were the least damaged portion of the castle."
Before they could descend even a few steps, they were forced back by a large flapping owl whose wings spanned most of the stairway.
Snape's face darkened slightly, and Hermione and Harry gave each other wary looks. Hermione sensed there was much Snape was keeping from them. The reasons for his silence worried her as much as the information itself.
The lower levels had always tended to be cooler, but now with each step down, the temperature rose slightly.
The corridors downstairs were still a mess, but not nearly as destroyed as the main level. Things appeared shaken, some were broken, but the objects and paintings could still be recognized for what they had been.
When they reached the painting of a bowl of fruit, Hermione watched Snape as he harshly kicked a large pile of letters that nearly reached his knees. Envelopes of all sizes spilled out over the floor. Hermione gave Snape a questioning look, which he purposefully did not see.
As they entered, the room looked almost pleasant. A fire was roaring behind the hearth keeping the chill out. A small bed was set up in the corner.
Dobby was sitting on the couch by the fire sobbing, huge tears.
Snape glared down at the wailing house-elf with disgust, striding quickly past.
Dumbledore was sitting up on the bed with his back against several fluffy pillows. He was wearing bright red pajamas and a floppy night cap, which made him look suspiciously like Father Christmas. He looked paler than usual, but the twinkle was still in his eyes as he waved them over.
Madam Pomfrey was standing next to him, but bustled over to Hermione and Harry as soon as she noticed them. She looked slightly disheveled and sounded very worried.
"You poor dears! You look awful. Here, eat all of this," she cried, handing them two large chunks of chocolate.
Hermione accepted the chunk, but its smell only made her feel worse.
"What I'd really like is a large glass of water. If that is possible?" Hermione asked.
In an instant Madam Pomfrey returned with two glasses. Hermione gulped the water down more quickly than she should have, the glass shaking slightly with her hands.
She then looked down at the chocolate in her hand and sighed.
Hermione certainly did not feel like eating anything at the moment, however she forced a small sliver into her mouth. Her stomach instantly calmed and she felt a warmness run through her. Hermione closed her eyes at this relief and took a larger bite.
"I must insist that you make your visit short," Madam Pomfrey said forcefully, as she walked them to Dumbledore's bedside. "The headmaster needs his rest. He really should have no visitors at all. It's not everyday one gets impaled by a large tree and lives to tell about it."
Dumbledore waved Poppy away and smiled lightly up at Harry and Hermione. Even in his weakened state, there was a strength in Dumbledore's demeanor. Snape stood against the wall as silent as a shadow in his long black cloak.
"I am very happy to see that you are all well. It will be wonderful to send some good news to the Weasley family. They have been inquiring after you two, quite persistently in fact."
"Is that what all the letters are about?" Hermione asked.
"Ah," he paused and looked thoughtfully at her. "I'm afraid many of the parents feel that their children would do better at a different school, given our current situation."
"Is everyone all right?" Harry interjected.
"The professors and students are all fine. Dean and Trevor have been sent away for their safety."
Dumbledore sighed, "The castle is protected by many ancient magics, as well as a few of my own creation." A small smile appeared on the corners of his mouth at this statement. "This afforded us the time we needed to break the Curses. Once they were broken, the Death Eaters and Dementors fled."
Hermione glanced up, as Snape stood expressionless and stiff through his speech. Hermione wondered what he thought about at moments like this. Did he ever blame himself for having once pledged his soul to a monster? His face gave nothing away, and Hermione longed to understand him. The small glimpses into his mind, she had seen months ago, had crept into her heart and would not leave.
Dumbledore's expression turned grave as he continued, "Many in Hogsmeade died however. Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks was lost, along with many others. The Ministry placed only one extra Auror there thinking no one would attempt an attack so close to Hogwarts. They blamed lack of time and information for their failure."
Dumbledore turned to Harry adding, "It's too bad my dear boy that you did not have your premonition a few days in advance. We could have then given the Ministry sufficient time to make the wrong decisions."
Another loud sob wailed from near the fireplace.
"Why is Dobby so upset?" Hermione asked.
Dumbledore looked at her somberly.
"We lost many of the house-elves. In all of the confusion, more than a few of the terrified creatures leapt into the trees."
Hermione walked over to comfort Dobby, whose normally perky ears hung low to his chin. His head was in his hands, which dripped with tears.
"I'm so sorry." She laid her hand on his tiny arm. The poor creature looked up at her with his huge wet eyes.
"Dobby should have been here. Not to take off. Little Winky is dead," he sobbed heavily. "Dobby is baaaad!" And with that he got up and slammed his head against the stone wall.
Hermione felt her heart tighten, and had to push back her own tears as she watched Dobby's anguish.
"Don't punish yourself that way," she comforted. Hermione walked up behind him and kneeling down to eye level, placed her hand on the back of his head. "Please Dobby, it's not your fault, no more than it was any of ours."
Hermione realized that house-elves, for all their melodrama, reacted more appropriately than she and the others with their reserve and restraint.
"You is good girl, Miss," he whimpered.
A loud argument from across the room caught her attention.
"You cannot be serious."
Hermione looked over to see Snape arguing with the headmaster.
"Headmaster. Surely there are better uses for my talents. I do not wish to become a glorified nanny."
"Severus, Hogwarts is not the safest place anymore. You know as well as I that you are in as much danger as Harry or Hermione. And since we need someone to watch over them, it is only sensible that you go into hiding as well."
Hermione's stomach tightened. Did Snape really believe he needed to be a "glorified nanny" to her? Did he still view her as a child?
Hermione need not have worried about Snape viewing her as a child. Rather, his aversion to going resulted more from his strong feelings for her as a woman.
She moved to Harry's side, glancing up at Snape's hard expression, his lips thin and his arms crossed.
"I really would rather stay here," Harry implored. "Going into hiding feels like giving up. Like I'm a coward."
Snape sneered, "I'm sure you will get your chance to play hero sooner than you may like Potter."
Hermione thought it was amazing that Snape found time for snide comments even when arguing the same point as Harry.
"Harry, I agree that hiding is not the solution," Dumbledore answered. "However, before we make a move, we need to be prepared."
Harry's breathing increased and he shifted nervously.
"Well, then why can't my godfather stay with us? If Snape, I mean Professor Snape doesn't want to, I'm sure Sirius would."
"Unfortunately Harry, Sirius is helping me with other matters."
"Trust me on this," Dumbledore smiled lightly. "I believe this arrangement will be for the best." And with that the discussion was closed.
Both Harry and Snape looked very grim.
Now only the details needed to be worked out.
Dumbledore continued, "I would like Dobby to go. You will need a house-elf and he needs the distraction from Hogwarts." Hermione watched Snape as he stared at the ground, his expression becoming even darker. She wondered what kept him from truly arguing with the headmaster.
"May I collect my things, before we go?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, you all should and quickly. I will feel much better once you are all away," Dumbledore paused and became very serious. "I must warn you, Gryffindor Tower has been almost completely destroyed. Magic is keeping it stable, but it may be difficult to maneuver to your rooms."
Snape looked up quickly, with some odd expression, which soon passed into nothing. He said dryly, "There are far too many window and open areas in that part of the castle. It would be best if I accompanied them to make sure that there are no hidden dangers."
"Yes, excellent idea," and Dumbledore rubbed his hands together looking very pleased with himself.
"Wait here," Snape ordered as he strode out of the room.
He returned only a few minutes later wearing a new robe and carrying a small black leather bag. He walked silently to Dumbledore's side, body stiff, face tight.
"Here, Severus. You should leave straight from Gryffindor Tower," and Dumbledore handed him a small teddy bear.
Snape looked sardonically at the headmaster's choice of portkey. Dumbledore smiled and called to the house-elf, "Dobby, will you please collect your things and meet the others in front of Gryffindor Common Room."
Dobby nodded sadly, picking himself up from the ground where he laid and walked slowly, with his shoulders hunched, through the solid wall.
As she made her way through the corridors to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione felt as if she were in a carnival fun house rather than a school. The walls slanted and the floor tilted at odd angles. Large cracks, which allowed her to see outside, ran along the exterior wall. The wind whistled lightly through the cracks. Most distressing were the missing stone slabs, which left other stones suspended in midair.
All the paintings near the windows were shredded. She wondered if the characters had time to escape to other paintings.
The wind blew lightly on her face, and Hermione realized that her headache and nausea had subsided, though the tension in her stomach remained. She looked up at Snape, who was walking stoically in front. She would soon be spending an extended period of time near him. How was she to carry on as normal, when she felt so uneasy, and her feelings still consumed her? Even now, as they walked silently through the halls, separated by more than the distance between them, Hermione longed to be held in his arms and to bury her face in his hair.
These thoughts plagued her mind as she trudged up the stairs to the main corridor of Gryffindor Tower.
Once she had reached the seventh floor, Hermione looked up to see the walls twisting and turning, slanted and curved in such strange angles, she wondered how even magic could hold them together.
They had to walk at a tilted angle uphill to reach the portrait of the Fat Lady. Hermione looked down and noticed a large gap between the floor and wall, that allowed her to see down to the next level. She swallowed nervously and focused her eyes straight ahead. When she reached the painting, Hermione saw that the Fat Lady was missing, and the empty painting hung loosely on its hinges.
As she stepped through the hole, she entered the impossible. Hermione's mouth fell open when the full impact of what she was seeing hit her. The room tilted steeply, so that the winding stairs were now near the ceiling twisting above her head. What was intended to be up was now down, sideways or distorted so that it was impossible to tell. All of the furniture had slid or been thrown to one side of the room. The beautiful squishy chairs and rug that sat before the fireplace were now shredded and spread across the floor, rustling around with the gentle breeze. The fire had been extinguished and portraits lay ripped. Large splinters from desks and tables were embedded in cracks in the wall.
Hermione looked up at the staircase in awe.
How was the castle ever going to be put back to normal?
"I can call my broomstick, if it's still in one piece," Harry suggested as they stared up at the confusion.
Hermione did not like that idea at all. She gave Snape a pleading look, which he ignored stating impassively, "Professor McGonagall will probably have another one in her office. Wait here." Snape stepped out of the portrait hole and out of sight.
Hermione sincerely hoped Professor McGonagall only had one broomstick, as she felt distinctly unsure of her flying abilities. She highly doubted that she could maneuver up the strange stairway alone.
While they waited, Harry called, "Accio Thunderbolt," and the broom came twisting wildly down from the staircase landing firmly in his right hand.
A short time later, Snape returned with a broomstick, a single broomstick.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
Harry motioned for Hermione to ride with him, and so she and Harry mounted his Thunderbolt, while Snape glared icily at them, as he mounted the other broomstick.
They flew slowly, but Hermione felt quite unsteady as she and Harry twisted and turned with the curving stairway. Hermione found it very difficult to keep her bearings, never sure if she was facing up or down.
When they arrived in Harry's room, the floor was at such a steep incline that all the beds and dressers had slid to one side of the room. Much of the furniture dangled over the edge of a huge gap, which opened to the floor below.
Hermione should have felt more balanced as she dismounted the broom, but the odd angle at which she was forced to stand, and the strange arrangement of the room gave her little comfort.
Harry flew over to the pile and began hunting through blankets, beds, dressers, books, and other rubble for his things.
After a few minutes and little patience, Snape began, "I believe it would be in our best interest given the time constraints to head to Miss Granger's room"
Harry looked up from his mess and said, "You go ahead. I'll be fine here."
There was obviously nothing that was going to jump out and attack, and Harry was a very capable flyer, so Hermione nodded her agreement.
Snape stared down at Hermione stating, "We should fly back over to your room."
Hermione gave him an apprehensive look as she glanced at the broomstick.
Snape sighed, "You are forced, I'm afraid, to ride with me," and he called his broom up, for her to sit on.
He simply stated, "Potter can meet us in the corridor when he is finished."
Directing his voice at Harry, he continued, "Do not waste time Mr. Potter, or else we shall leave without you."
Hermione sat on the front of the broomstick and Snape gently, slowly kicked off. They twisted through the stairs to her room. Even though his arm wrapped around her stiffly, as if avoiding any real contact, Hermione felt much more secure with him than Harry. That wasn't to say that Snape was a better broomsman than Harry, but rather that he was more aware of her safety. Though she felt safe, she was far from comfortable. His warm breath hit her hair as they flew, and his robes gently rubbed against hers. This closeness was something she wanted, yet feared.
Luckily, her room was only one flight of stairs higher than Harry's, so the trip was short. The tower as it twisted had bent slightly back in the form of an "S" leaving her room more level than Harry's, though still slanted at a definite angle. Glass and furniture were smashed so that she had difficulty distinguishing the dressers from the mirrors from the bed.
Snape walked over to the window, arms crossed, his back to her. The breeze blew his hair sideways exposing his long thin neck. Hermione could see the strained tendons in his neck twitch.
She moved to the large pile and surveyed its contents, "I can't believe this is all that is left of my room."
She rummaged through some of the larger pieces. Without looking back she added, "It feels so strange leaving here, to go live somewhere else."
Snape sneered, "I'm sure you'll have your precious Potter to keep you company."
She turned her head to look at him in confusion. Her words caught in her throat, and for a moment she was speechless.
She replied uncertainly, "He's not my precious Potter."
She added, "I haven't been interested in anyone since..." Her voice drifted off and she began loathing herself for admitting that to him.
He looked down at her oddly and moved back down to the doorway, leaning against the frame watching her.
She could feel his eyes bore into her and she looked up from her mess to see that his expression had altered, softened.
His watchful eyes made her uncomfortable, so she tried to start a conversation.
"How long do you think it will take to rebuild the school?"
Snape sighed, "I doubt you will be coming back here for a very long time in any case."
He continued, "Hogwarts will not survive with only a handful of families willing to allow their children to attend."
The thought of not returning to Hogwarts had never crossed her mind. She contemplated all that she would miss, and fell silent as she absently moved debris around.
After more than a few minutes, she had finally found several pieces of clothing. She began throwing things inside of her school bag, her trunk being smashed to tiny splinters.
She was shaking out her dirtied cloak, when something stirred in the rubble a few feet away. Hermione's body tensed and she instantly pointed her wand stiffly at the heap. Snape rushed forward. All eyes were fixed on the pile, when it meowed softly. Her dirty ginger cat sheepishly peeked out.
Snape was still targeting the pile, ready to strike.
"Oh, put your wand down," she said running to the scruffled cat.
"Crookshanks! I was so worried about you old boy," all of her attention now focused on the joy of finding her cat.
She hugged the cat, comforting and petting his matted fur. She looked over at Snape and smiled widely rubbing Crookshanks' neck. Snape's mouth moved into something that could almost be called a smile, as he crossed his arms and stared at her intensely.
Snape's demeanor had now changed, become gentler, more relaxed. As Hermione watched him, she wondered if he could have been jealous of her and Harry. A small twinge of hope ran through her heart. She knew that he did not need to be in love to feel jealousy, but at least he was not completely indifferent.
He looked away and sighed. She continued her strong attentions to her cat.
Eventually he reminded, "The time Miss Granger."
Both she and her cat looked offendedly over at him.
Suddenly recognition dawned on her face.
"Oh, speaking of time," She set her cat down, who suspiciously edged towards Snape. She fumbled through a pile of large splinters that had once been a solid oak desk. After a few minutes, she held out her arm leaning towards him, her legs surrounded by wood.
"Here," she strained. He leaned forward a bit and took the object cautiously.
"I had grabbed it meaning to give it back to you before we left, but forgot. I never got the chance to return it afterwards. I'm sure it's an heirloom." As she handed him the pocket watch, she felt as if a piece of her heart was going with it. She had always intended to return it to him, she just never realized how difficult the actual act would be.
"Yes, thank you," he said hoarsely. He looked a bit stunned as he ran his thumb over the engravings.
Her school bag, as well as a makeshift bag she had created out of an old blanket were nearly filled when Snape said, "We should go."
"I just need to gather a few things from the bathroom." She paused looking at the pile in front of the door that stood to her waist. "If I can reach the bathroom that is."
Snape moved forward and helped her push some of it aside. He stood so near her, she could feel his warmth, and it sent little sparks through her.
He offered his hand to help her over and her breath caught in her throat, so that a simple, "Thank you," was impossible.
The bathroom wasn't nearly as damaged as her room, though the mirror had broken and things had definitely been jostled around. She easily gathered her things, shrinking her bags to manageable sizes, and they were set to leave.
As he called the broom up, he asked, "What will you do Miss Granger if one day your life depends on your skills on a broomstick?"
She sighed. It was a fair enough question, but one that she did not like to think about.
She shrugged and mounted the broom, "Die, I suppose. But I don't think it's very likely to ever happen."
"Let us hope not," he whispered in her ear, as he wrapped his arm around her warmly and securely.
She looked up at him slightly, their eyes meeting. Her mouth felt dry and her breaths shortened. She thought for a moment that he might lean forward to kiss her, but that thought was soon ended as his head lifted to look over hers and he gently kicked off.
The flight to the Common Room was much nicer than before, and Hermione would have almost believed it to be enjoyable. Snape's warm body pressed against hers, and his scent and touches were wonderfully familiar, as they gently glided down to the portrait hole.
As Hermione stepped through the hole, she looked back one last time at a room that she knew she would not see again for a very long time. With a heaviness in her heart, she turned and walked into the hallway.
She and Snape stood in the corridor waiting for Harry, as Dobby interrupted the silence every so often with a small whimper.
Hermione's body still felt weak and warm from the flight. She watched Snape as he held the small stuffed bear.
An image of him as a child in pajamas entered her mind, and she sadly wondered if he had truly ever been a child. He seemed so reserved that she doubted he ever ran around carefree giggling and holding his favorite toy. The notion that he may have however, was quite endearing.
He looked at her with an odd expression, and she realized she had been grinning absently at her thoughts. She forced the smile from her lips and stared blankly at the wall.
Soon, Harry zipped through the portrait hole. He jumped off his broom breathlessly, "Sorry, I couldn't find my picture album."
Hermione knew how important that was to him, and hoped Snape did not comment.
Surprisingly, he did not, choosing instead to prepare the portkey.
The group stood in silence as Snape directed his wand at the teddy bear setting the timer. Snape, Harry, Hermione, and even little Dobby, who had to stand on tiptoes, all held onto the little bear. And a familiar tugging on Hermione's navel pulled her into the unknown.
**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was by far the longest I have ever written.
**Thank you all for READING and REVIEWING!! You truly have no idea how wonderful it feels to have people enjoy something I have put time and effort into.
*Enfleurage- Wow! Your critiques are extremely well thought out and expressed. Thank you!
*Nicolette- As you wish!
*Fleab- Unfortunately, my interpretation of your Pinnochio-like wooden Snape would take this story into NC-17 territory, though it may end up there eventually regardless.
**littlemandyralph- You are so cute! Your idea of writing a choose your own ending story sounds wonderful! I look forward to reading it.
**Veresna Ussep- Scanning for the juicy bits is naughty, though I've been guilty of the crime as well.