Echoes
Chapter 7: Refuge
Swirling colors spiraled past Hermione as she was pulled down a long winding tunnel at amazing speeds. An invisible rope attached to her navel reeled her in, arching her body and trailing her feet behind. She could feel Snape and the others flying next to her.
Suddenly, her feet hit an icy surface, and slid, so that she fell awkwardly into a thick layer of snow. Crookshanks landed heavily on her chest forcing all the air from her lungs.
"Ugh," she managed to choke out as she brushed the snow off her face and wiped her eyes. She turned her head up to see Snape standing looking down at her with an amused glimmer in his eye. His expression gradually faded, and Hermione turned to look elsewhere.
Next to her, Harry was slowly moving to stand using his broomstick to steady himself. A large rolling snowball caught her attention and she was surprised to see Dobby's head poke out. As she watched, the house-elf's huge eyes moved dizzily following the spinning world around him.
It was cold and dark here, though it should have been early afternoon. The air smelled fresh and crisp and clean. Hermione looked up at the many enormous fir trees that covered this mountainous area, and realized that they were far from home. As her eyes moved skyward, she saw beautiful colors dancing and playing amongst the stars, unhindered by city lights.
"Maybe Santa and his elves are nearby," Harry commented as he held out his hand to help Hermione up.
She laughed at the thought, considering it a possibility. They already had one elf with them.
Snape did not look as impressed with his comment.
Hermione brushed the cold snow off her clothes and pulled out her cloak wrapping it around her body, covering Crookshanks in the process.
Hermione noticed movements from the corner of her eye and turned to see two hideously mismatched socks poke out of the large Dobby snow ball.
Suddenly something large swooped soundlessly over their heads.
The group aimed their wands ready for the worst.
"It's just an owl," Snape called out lowering his arm.
Hermione's grip around her cat tightened.
"I hope Hedwig will be able to find this place, if she's all right..." Harry's words trailed off.
"It is doubtful your owl will come here. There are protectants in place to confuse owls and other messengers."
Hermione realized that no outside messengers meant that she would no longer have any contact with her family: no cards, letters, or presents; nothing to remind her of those she loved. Gradually, everything that made her life her own was being destroyed.
These thoughts brought back memories of her parents, and the sudden realization that they had no idea what had happened.
"My parents, they need to know that I'm safe!"
"I'm sure Dumbledore will inform them," Snape replied impassively.
"Can you contact him to make sure?" Hermione implored.
"Yes, I can contact him, but only for dire emergencies." He paused and looked her in the eyes, "Dumbledore will inform them."
Snape seemed so sure and his assurances so firm that Hermione felt somewhat relieved, and she nodded silently.
Dobby eventually freed himself from the frozen ball and wobbled over to the group. He trembled wearing nothing but a little tea cozy and mismatched socks.
"Da-Da-Dobby no like the snow!"
Snape glared down at Dobby, unmoved by his current situation.
In the near distance Hermione saw a small one room cabin, sitting inconspicuously among the trees and snow. Its little windows were shuttered tightly closed, and it appeared to have been made out of logs, much like those that surrounded them.
Hermione looked at the little shack skeptically. She did not wish to share a one room cabin with Snape and most certainly did not wish to share one with Snape and Harry. She could already feel her emotions take over every time she was near him. She didn't know, but suspected that he might still harbor some feelings for her as well. She could not trust her mind to lead when her heart was involved. She hoped that the cabin was larger inside than it appeared from where she was standing.
Snape started walking towards the shack. There were no paths, no roads, no tracks leading to the cabin. As she trudged through the snow, Hermione was very happy that she had remembered her cloak. She wished she had put on her boots. She wrapped the thick wool tighter around Crookshanks, who clung to her shirt so fiercely that his claws hooked into her chest. The closer they got to the shack, the more detailed it became, though it still looked tiny and cramped.
"You won't be able to Disapparate from here, so don't try," Snape commanded.
Snape seemed to know a lot about this place.
"Where are we?" Hermione ventured to ask.
"Only Dumbledore knows the exact location. This area is unplottable."
He sighed, "I do know however, that at this time of year, there will only be about three hours of useful sunlight, which will not occur for some time."
Hermione was now positive they were very far from home.
Instead of walking to the front door, the only apparent entrance to the cabin, Snape took them round the side of the building.
"The door is not actually an entrance," he stated as he tapped on the wall with his wand in an intricate pattern, and the logs shifted into an archway.
If Hermione had expected a one room shack, she was quite surprised to find that, like many things magical, appearances can be deceiving.
They entered a large foyer that led to a set of open stairs and rooms above. A smaller hallway led somewhere beyond the stairs, and there were two large rooms on either side. The floor was made of thin dark planks, which she followed to the center stairs.
"This house is not connected to the main Floo Network, though we can set up a simple system linking the fireplaces within. Portkeys also will not work in the house, and there are Alarm Charms set around the grounds. Those, as well as other protections, should allow us some warning in case we have any unwelcome visitors."
"How do you know all this?" Harry questioned.
"I cast the Spells," Snape replied dryly as he walked up the stairs. He added, not bothering to look back, "I'll take you to your rooms."
Hermione took this time to examine her surroundings as she followed Snape up the stairs. She was definitely in a magical home. The walls were lined with moving paintings which waved and smiled. She had an urge to wave back, but thought the better of it, not wishing to draw Snape's attention.
Snape showed Harry to his room first. The room was not elegant, but it was comfortable. Harry wearily threw his bag on the wide bed and flopped down next to it.
"I need some rest before I do anything," and he kicked off his shoes and began climbing under the blankets still fully dressed.
Hermione smiled at her friend and gently closed the door, feeling Snape's presence behind her.
She understood the exhaustion that Harry felt, but she doubted that she would be able to sleep for some time to come.
They walked to the next room, and Snape opened the door for Hermione. Like Harry's, her room was adequate. A large bed, that stood taller than she thought necessary, was in one corner of the room. Near it sat a dressing table and night stand.
Crookshanks immediately leapt from her arms and quickly scuttled under the bed, his ears pushed back against his head.
Hermione crouched down low to look, "Poor old boy, I think everything that's happened has been a bit much for him."
She turned her head to the door on her left and noticed it led to a full-sized bathroom with a large inviting tub.
"Oh, thank God a bathtub!" Hermione exclaimed.
Snape watched her roam through the area; deep emotions glistened in his dark eyes.
"I doubt even a bath will clean all this grime off me," she complained grabbing a chunk of her hair and looking at it.
He smiled slightly, "You are somewhat disheveled."
Those were not the words the Potions Master longed to say, but they were the only ones she would hear at the moment.
Hermione felt uncomfortable that he noticed her appearance and she changed the subject.
"Where are your rooms?"
"Downstairs, they are attached to the laboratory for my research." He paused for a moment in contemplation. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "When you are ready, I would like you to come down. There are some things that need to be discussed."
Her heart jumped and tensed at the thought of what those things could be.
"Until then, Miss Granger," and he shut the door tightly.
Hermione looked at the bed and sighed. She was very tired, but she was also extremely restless and her body ached. She thought a soothing bath would do more than simply wash the dirt from her body, so she headed for the bathroom.
As she stepped onto the white tiled floor, a voice gasped, "Eeek!"
Hermione's head shot up only to see her own reflection.
The mirror cried, "Oh my dear what ever happened to you? You must do something to right yourself immediately."
She sharply replied, "Yes, thank you."
Enchanted mirrors were one of the few things Hermione could do without in the magical world. She never did understand what wizards saw in them. All they ever seemed to do was nit pick.
This time however, the mirror had a point.
She really was an awful mess, and the sight did not improve as she slowly stripped off her torn and filthy clothes. Her muscles ached, so that any movement was an effort. She glared straight into the mirror daring it to speak and shook her hands through her hair. Chunks of dirt fell to the ground and on her shoulders and face. She scrunched up her nose as she wiped bits of dust from her cheeks.
She sighed and ran the water hot.
Hermione climbed over the large porcelain tub and sank deep into the steaming water allowing her whole body and head to submerge. She sat up and wiped her eyes clean with her fingers. She could feel her body lying on soot, so she emptied the tub once and refilled. This time, she laid her head back and rested.
Now that any immediate danger had passed, her mind drifted to thoughts and memories that she would have rather forgotten. As she began to drift off, the image of a blonde girl slowly appeared. She simply stared blankly at Hermione, not moving or speaking.
Hermione's body flinched at the image of the girl she had left for dead in Hogsmeade, sending small ripples through the water. She opened her eyes, looking around to make sure she was alone. She then sat forward and splashed some water on her face, but even that momentary shutting of her eyes allowed images to flash through her mind. The full extent of what she had witnessed hit her, so that her bath became more tortuous than soothing.
She left the tub not bothering with a towel and let her soaked body drip as she paced back and forth in her room.
She stopped in front of the fire and watched as the flames lapped and jumped radiating heat to her front while her back cooled as the water evaporated.
The fire danced, so that as she stared at it, she fell into a light trance. Suddenly she felt that the flames were going to leap out and grab her like the limbs of the cursed trees. She jerked backward coming to her senses, and gasped as her heart beat furiously. She crouched down and hung her head in between her knees.
"Pull yourself together, girl," she whimpered.
Crookshanks, sensing his Mistress' distress, meekly poked his head out from under the bed.
Hermione glanced sideways at him and smiled slightly through her tension.
"What would I do without you Crooks?" She exclaimed as she firmly planted a kiss in between his ears. When she raised her head, she noticed that he looked annoyed and wet from her hanging hair.
Crookshanks ruefully backed away and began licking his moist fur.
Though her bath had been far from the restful sanctuary she needed, it did remove many of the aches from her body.
Realizing that any true relaxation was impossible, but feeling much cleaner, Hermione decided she should go see Snape.
She mechanically stood up and walked to the bed. She absently opened her purse-sized school bag, which now held much more than its size suggested.
She threw on the first set of clothes she found and placed a Drying Spell on her hair.
As she left her room and headed for the stairs, Hermione noticed that Harry's door was still tightly shut.
Hermione warily descended the stairs having no idea where Snape's quarters were located. The first room to her left was a long thin library with books stacked to the ceiling.
She moved across the hallway, to a large dining room with a long table and an old piano in the corner. The walls were plaster and painted deep rich colors. Thick, velvety curtains covered the windows, so that it was impossible to see out.
Further down the hall there was a closed door, and Hermione cautiously moved to it and knocked.
She heard a muffled, "Enter," and opened the door timidly peeking her head around.
As she surveyed the room, Hermione could tell that Snape had played a significant role in the planning and development of this house. These rooms reminded her very much of the ones he kept back at Hogwarts. Oh, there were differences. The small details and colors were unfamiliar, but in all the ways that mattered, they were the same.
There were two large rooms connected by a long bookcase. The bed was in the farthest room, and Hermione suspected that his laboratory could be entered from that room.
Snape was sitting on the far corner of a sofa near a roaring fire, a glass in his hand. He watched her carefully as she came towards him.
"You forgot shoes and socks," he said dryly.
Hermione wasn't sure what he meant until she looked down at her bare feet. She soon realized that she had forgotten underwear as well. She wondered at the absurdity of forgetting such everyday things.
"Here," he handed her what appeared to be a huge thick book.
As she took it, she smiled slightly into his eyes. This was not how she thought this meeting would start, but she was curious as to what he had given her.
She sat down on the other end of the sofa, and rested the dark blue book on her lap. There were no markings or title or anything on the cover that would indicate what it was, so she gently opened its pages and saw fine slanted writing that she recognized. The pages were filled with scientific notes, Snape's notes.
"I've been working on a potion to block the Killing Curse. Since you are here, it's only logical that you should help."
As he spoke, Hermione flipped through the pages, and unconsciously ran her fingers over the words.
"How long have you been working on this."
"For longer than I would care to admit, however, I feel that I'm finally on the verge of a solution."
Hermione breathed in deeply. Working with Snape would be difficult. Already, she was aroused by his presence. Harry would probably wish to be involved as well. Having her friend near might prove a nice distraction from Snape, though she suspected that Harry's involvement would do more harm than good.
Snape took a small object out of his robes and silently placed it on top of the book.
She felt a warm shiver spread through her body as his hand neared her lap.
She looked down at the gem-like relic. "Where did you get this?" Hermione gasped as her face filled with astonishment.
"I took a short trip to Boston and procured it soon after our return."
The Triple Spiral of Life was an ancient artifact that had broken into several pieces. Voldemort had used one of these pieces to open a gateway to an Alternate Universe, in which she and Snape had been trapped. In an effort to save Hogwarts, they had destroyed two of the three pieces, but the third, Hermione now held in her hand.
She ran her fingers lightly over the relic. The light from the fire reflected off of its smooth edges. She gazed at the spiral thoughtfully contemplating the irony that its sister had been the catalyst for the feelings she now had for Snape.
Hermione looked up at Snape as he lifted his eyebrows slightly.
He had a plan, and from what she new of him, a good one.
He stared into her eyes for a moment before pouring himself another glass of the brown liquid. As she watched, she wondered if he was as affected by recent events as she. Hermione had spent over three months with him, and in that time, had rarely seen him drink, and never to any extent.
"I thought you wanted to avoid me as much as possible," she almost whispered.
Snape sighed, "The stakes are too high."
He paused for a moment collecting his thoughts. "The attack on Hogwarts and Hogsmeade was a larger defeat than it might outwardly appear. The war is as much a political game as it is a physical assault. Dumbledore and the Ministry will now be viewed as incapable of protecting the Wizarding Community."
He continued impassively, "The Dark Lord will exploit this weakness."
Snape looked down at his glass, "A potion to block the Killing Curse would give us the advantage we need in this bloody war."
He brought the glass to his mouth, and did not say another word.
As they sat in silence, she watched the light from the fire jump and play on his face. She unconsciously touched her lips, when she noticed the way the light gently glistened off his moist lips, as the glass left his mouth.
She wanted to lean over and touch him; to run her fingers through his hair and kiss his soft lips. She turned her head away and leaned it back against the sofa staring at the ceiling. She knew she should leave before she said something she would regret, but being here with him felt so right and exciting.
They stayed that way for a while, both thinking thoughts that wished to be discussed, but weren't.
During this time, he finished another glass.
She tilted her head sideways and asked, "Should you be drinking so much?"
Snape sighed, "A few glasses will hardly disable me. I plan to go to bed soon; I haven't had any sleep in a while."
Hermione realized that he probably hadn't slept since before the attack.
She watched him closely.
His eyes were red and glossy. They could have easily have been that way from exhaustion alone, but she suspected the effect was partially due to the liquor he had ingested.
"Do you think we'll be safe here?"
Snape laughed slightly, "I think that the sooner we perfect my potion, the better."
His response did little to ease her fears.
"We're somewhere in Northern Alaska, aren't we."
"Ten points to Gryffindor for your keen deductive reasoning." His words slurred a little as he spoke.
Hermione laughed at his lively response.
He stared at her quizzically and asked, "How were you able to determine that?"
She shrugged, "The Northern Lights, the terrain and the weather. It really was just a guess."
She propped her head up on her hand as her elbow rested on the sofa back. She curled her legs around so she could see him more clearly.
Thoughts of what Snape had said about Voldemort exploiting weaknesses ran through her mind. Everyone seemed to have them, even Dumbledore.
She spoke without really meaning to, "You are you know."
"What?" He looked over at her.
She pulled her head straight laying her arm across the sofa back, and murmured, "My weakness."
He smiled slightly rubbing his temple with his elbow on the sofa back, and set down his drink. He leaned forward resting his forearms on his legs, staring into the fire.
Hermione looked at the shadows on his face as he thought things she did not know. He really did look tired, but he hadn't asked her to leave, and she did not want to go.
She sighed, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep for a while. I can't even close my eyes and relax properly." Though the words she spoke were vague, the pain in her voice was clear.
Snape looked deeply into her eyes, the blackness of his made her feel as if he could see into her very soul.
She swallowed hard.
He breathed in heavily and brought his hand round to hers on the back of the sofa. His gentle fingers softly caressed hers as they stared into each others eyes.
He slid over to her until he was so close, she could feel his breath against her face. The smell of liquor overpowered any of his usual scents, but it wasn't unpleasant. He wasn't unpleasant, quite the contrary. He looked at her with such intense feeling that her breath caught in here throat and she stared frozen.
He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. They began as small, light kisses. He paused between pecks to look into her eyes. Gradually his mouth opened slightly, and the tip of his tongue lightly touched hers. Slowly, his kisses deepened and continued for more than a few minutes.
Their mouths parted for a moment and she whispered without opening her eyes, "I don't want to make a mistake. I don't want to be hurt again."
He answered simply by caressing her cheek and kissing her once more. Though filling her senses, this was not the response she wanted at the moment, and using all her willpower, she pulled away.
"I should get back. Read," she said hoarsely, as she stood up forgetting the book.
Snape followed her silently to the door. She paused, her hand on the knob, and he touched her hair. His caress sent sparks through her whole body and she turned back. He pressed their bodies together heavily against the door, and whispered in her ear, "I need you, Hermione."
And with those words, all thoughts of resistance and reasoning were lost and she succumbed.