Chapter Three: Bound
They gaped at each other like fish for several minutes after he opened
the door. He had just collected his composure enough to ask when the
location of his private rooms had become public knowledge when she
silenced him with a step forward. He couldn't help but jerk in surprise
when her fingertips came up to trace his bottom lip. "You taste like
liquorice..." she murmured and then collapsed against him. He barely
had the presence of mind to catch the girl before she hit the floor.
In flabbergasted silence he contemplated the slack Gryffindor in his
arms. Shaking his head in confusion, he wondered what in the Nine Hells
possessed her to say such a thing. Sudden revelation hit him with a
cold wave of insight: at the Revel, the Displaced Suffering potion
he'd slipped the Girl had an anise seed base. Anise not only darkened
a potion's colour it also lent a distinctive black liquorice flavor.
"Bloody hell," he whispered hoarsely as he shifted his grip on her waist
and slid an arm behind her knees to lift her. Her skin was feverishly hot
beneath his hands. In a few short steps he had her spread out on his
couch. The door to his quarters snapped shut with a flick of his wand
and in seconds he had a fire roaring. A handful of powder was tossed
into the flames. "Albus Dumbledore!" he barked impatiently. A minute
later the headmaster's rumpled face came into view.
"Severus," Albus said in sleepy greeting. "I wasn't expecting you to
report until tomorrow."
"Events have conspired to complicate my evening," he snarled in reply,
gesturing backwards to the unconscious figure sprawled out on his sofa.
Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Hogwarts Head Girl
in a limp half-dressed heap on his potion master's settee. "I'll be there
directly. Is she injured?"
The professor's gaze twitched over to the girl and back to him. The
concern in his eyes was unmistakable if one knew what to look for. "The
addition of Poppy's talent would not be remiss."
The headmaster nodded decisively. "I will fetch her. Watch for us shortly."
And then the hearth was filled with nothing but fire.
Severus watched the flames for a moment and then turned away with a sigh.
Striding to his desk, he yanked open a drawer and in a single motion
removed a vial, uncorked it with a deft movement of his thumb and downed
the liquid it contained in one swallow. The Sobriety potion hit him with a
jolt and the hazy distance that had been accompanying his thoughts
evaporated. A quiet whimper drew him from across the room. His unexpected
visitor was writhing on the couch, beads of sweat dotting her skin. Conjuring
a bowl of water and a cloth, he knelt by her side and sponged her face.
The coolness of the rag calmed her enough that the writhing slowly segued
to shivering. Finally noting the oversized shirt that comprised her attire,
he cursed himself for not thinking to cover her first. A quick swish of
his wrist later and the coverlet from his own bed was settling itself over
her. He shook his head ruefully. Given the licentious nature of his thoughts
concerning this young woman earlier tonight, he was surprised he hadn't
noticed her state of undress until she started shivering. Merlin knew what
she thought she was doing wandering around the dungeons in a threadbare
nightshirt. If pneumonia didn't catch her first there was any number of
Slytherin 'gentlemen' who would've been happy to. And their intentions
toward a scantily clad Gryffindor witch found wandering the Snake's Den
at this time of night could hardly be called honourable. Especially a witch
as lovely as the one currently ensconced in his duvet, he couldn't help but
silently acknowledge to himself as he surveyed her still form.
A loud pop from the fireplace caught his attention and unintentionally
heralded Madame Pomfrey's frantic entrance. Upon seeing the acerbic Head
of Slytherin on his knees nursing what was publicly acknowledged as his
least-favorite Gryffindor the anxious woman practically skidded to a halt
in shock. Her stop was so abrupt that Albus walked right into her as he
stepped out of the floo.
"Excuse me, Poppy," he said with uncharacteristic somberness as he stepped
around her. "What happened, Severus?" Upon seeing the headmaster's lack of
reaction, Poppy shook off her surprise and approached her patient. Severus
relinquished his position without complaint, unthinkingly squeezing Hermione's
shoulder as he stood. Dumbledore noted the unconscious action with interest.
"I am uncertain how Miss Granger found her way to my quarters, but I
believe her condition may be connected to the events that transpired
earlier this evening." The headmaster raised an eyebrow in interest and
motioned for him to continue.
"As you know, I apparated to the Meeting when summoned. After the...standard
preliminaries..." The professor was hesitant to elaborate with his current
audience, unwilling to discuss Order business in front of the uninitiated.
Albus nodded slightly in approval of his restraint. "We retired to Malfoy
Manor. Lucius had arranged for the Inner Circle's dinner and…entertainment
for the evening." Poppy blanched at the thought of what Death Eaters must
consider entertainment, but Severus continued without pausing. "After
eating, I followed Lucius down to the dungeon and saw..."
"Me." All eyes turned to the now conscious student. "I was chained to the
wall across from the entrance hall. He said he wanted me to be the first
thing everyone saw, that I'd be an example..."
"He who, Hermione?" Poppy asked, but Snape cut her off before Hermione
could respond.
"Ms. Granger herself was not in attendance," he snapped, glaring at her
interruption.
Hermione frowned at him in befuddlement, "But I remember…"
His glare softened almost imperceptibly and his next words were resigned. "She
was not there. But I believe her Homopsuchos was."
Poppy for a moment just looked at Severus as she processed his words, then
she pulled a wand from her robes and with a quietly muttered spell waved
it over the girl. The tip of the wand, which had begun shining a light
blue, darkened rapidly to sickly glowing yellow.
"Severus, did Miss Granger's Homopsuchos die?" she asked cautiously.
Professor Snape paled in surprise. "Yes, she did. Does that mean...No,
she can't be. The other portion of Miss Granger's soul should have returned
to her own by now."
A startled "What?!" from Hermione was ignored by all parties.
"Well be that as is may, Miss Granger is beginning to Evanesce and since
her Homopsuchos is dead that portion of her soul must be trapped somewhere."
"What does Evanesce mean?" Again ignored, Hermione was steadily growing
more uneasy and annoyed.
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, the twinkle returning to his
eyes. "Poppy, do run your wand over Severus. I have a theory that may be
worth testing." Snape's entire body stiffened in consternation as the tip
turned a brilliant indigo when waved over him.
"Well," began Poppy rather deliberately, as if trying to buy herself time
to think. "That explains where the Homopsuchos' soul is trapped. The
question that remains to be answered is how."
"It's simply impossible" the Potions master bit out, just as Hermione
plaintively said "What's happening to me?" and looked pleadingly from one
adult to another, to no avail.
Finally unable to take being ignored anymore, Hermione leapt to her feet,
"WHAT is impossible?! Will someone please tell me what the bloody hell is
going on!" The adults turned to her as one and the girl shrank sheepishly
into herself.
"Miss Granger," her professor growled as he pinned her with a dark glare,
"you are obviously under the impression that your situation has granted you
some degree of leniency that exempts you from rendering proper respect to
your elders. Let me be the first to assure you that it has NOT. Now sit
down and cover yourself."
She turned as red as Ginny's hair as she realized that she was standing in
nothing but a slightly oversized pyjama top and knickers. With a quick
pivot she dived into the covers she'd just left and sat there awkwardly.
Snape quirked an eyebrow in amusement at her embarrassed silence and said
ruefully, "If only I had something that affective to quiet you during class."
She looked at him strangely. "You said something remarkably similar after
you kissed me." Professor Snape's head snapped back as if she'd slapped
him and Madame Pomfrey whirled on him in outrage.
"I didn't kiss HER!" Snape yelped uncharacteristically and held his hands
up to ward off the enraged Mediwitch. "I kissed the Girl! I needed a way to
slip her the Displaced Suffering potion without raising Lucius' suspicions!"
"Did the Girl have a name?" Albus interjected quietly.
"Miranda Elsing," Severus and Hermione answered in unison and then flinched
in tandem surprise and eyed each other with distrust.
"Much as I suspected," the headmaster said in satisfaction. "Severus, summon
a house elf. Explanations may take some time, and would be aided immensley
by a spot of tea. And perhaps a biscuit or two," he added thoughtfully.
The Professor nodded and moved to obey. Turning, he addressed Hermione,
"Would you care for a sherbert lemon, my dear?" The overwrought girl just
looked at him blankly. "Ah well," he said and popped the sticky treat into
his mouth as he waved Poppy to the seat across from him and settled into
an armchair by the fire himself.
A short time later found tea distributed and Professor Snape situated on
the sofa as far from Hermione as he could manage. The headmaster watched
in amusement as the man shifted uncomfortably - it was, after all, a very
short couch. There was only so far he could edge away from the girl without
falling off the cushion. Hermione, on the other hand, looked remarkably
better. A little colour had returned to her cheeks and the slight tremor
he'd noticed in her hands had receded. Albus glanced at Poppy and saw
that she had noticed the marked improvement as well.
Shifting his attention back to the Head Girl, he asked, "How did you find
Professor Snape's rooms?"
Looking up from her tea, she took a deep breath before answering, "I dreamed
I was Miranda and that he and Mr. Malfoy were t-torturing me." Another deep
breath followed the waiver in her voice. Gathering her Gryffindor courage,
she continued, "And after they were finished, Professor Snape performed
Avada Kedavra on me…I mean…her. I tried to tell myself that it was only a
nightmare, but I just knew it wasn't. I needed some confirmation that I
wasn't going mad so I came here. My feet just seemed to know where to go."
Turning to the man seated next to her she said, "I swear to you, Professor - I
didn't have any idea where your private quarters were before tonight. As
it is, I'm not sure I know the way back..." She trailed off helplessly.
"You dreamed that I tortured and murdered you and then immediately decide
I'M the person you need confirmation from?" Snape asked in sarcastic
disbelief. "Merlin save me from the Gryffindor excuse for logical thinking."
"But you didn't want to do it!" She cried, obviously upset. "And when I saw
you, I could feel how badly you felt about what you had to do and how you'd
only done it to save me from that bastard Lucius! Where else would I go?"
Several things about this sentence caught the headmaster's attention. Not
the least of which was Hermione, who was known to endlessly lecture her
peers on using the proper title to address their elders, using Severus'
nickname of choice in referring to the head of House Malfoy. "What is
Professor Snape feeling now?"
"Irritation," she practically snarled as she picked up the emotion.
"Disbelief at this entire situation and concern for me…" Her words tapered
off as she turned to gawk at her professor in astonishment. "Concern for me?"
she echoed incredulously.
Refusing to give into the obscure desire to squirm under the weight of her
stare, he drew himself up and sneered at her. "If you are quite finished
invading my privacy Miss Granger, perhaps we can return to the matter at
hand. I am fairly certain that you've made the Headmaster's point."
"Indeed she has, Severus." The elder man agreed. "Tell me, Hermione - are
you familiar with a work of Plato's entitled Symposium?"
She blinked at him in surprise, "Symposium? I can't say I am, though I am
familiar with several of his other works. For instance…"
Professor Snape cut her off with an impatient wave, "No need to list them,
Miss Granger. We're all well aware of your pretentiously varied reading
tastes."
Sparing a moment to glare at him, she turned back to Professor Dumbledore
and restated simply, "No sir, I have not read Symposium. Was Plato a wizard?"
"Only a wizard of words," Albus chuckled. "But his Symposium contains
reference to the wizarding legend of Homopsuchos, even if it does not
mention it by name. The story goes that in the early days of the world,
mankind was proud. And in their pride our distant ancestors, believing
themselves equal to the gods, rose up and sought to replace them as the
rulers of Olympus. Their rebellion failed and in retribution for their
folly, the gods split every member of the race of Man in half and scattered
the pieces to the winds. Dooming the poor fractured creatures to spend
eternity searching for their missing halves."
"Like soulmates?" She interrupted.
"Not quite," the headmaster replied. "At least, not with the inherently
romantic connotations we associate the word with today. While it is not
unknown for Homopsuchos to fall in love with each other, publicly it's
looked upon as the ultimate form of narcissism. For example, what are your
two favorite subjects?"
"Arithmancy and Potions," she replied immediately.
"And what where Miranda's two favorite subjects?" the old wizard prompted
with a twinkle in his eye.
"Physics and Chemistry…oh!" She cried understandingly, "Practically
identical!" Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the bond between herself
and the fragment of Miranda that seemed to reside in Professor Snape. "We
have the same opinions on virtually everything! I don't know that I could
stand being with someone who didn't challenge me."
"Loving a person who is nothing more than a mirror of yourself is not an
option that truly appeals to most people." His smile widened, "At least not
for more than a minute."
"Unless you're Gilderoy Lockhart," Professor Snape muttered with a smirk
as he looked down to take a sip of his tea.
Pulling the conversation back on topic, Poppy placed her cup on the conjured
tea table and stood to approach the couch. "When Miranda died her half of
the soul should have merged with yours, Hermione," she said with a worried
frown as she began to perform a more thorough examination of the still-seated
witch. "With both of you alive, an inactive bond existed that allowed the
two halves of your soul to survive without inhabiting the same body. In a
near-death experience, the bond would have activated to allow the imperilled
half of the soul a ready escape should its host body expire. While we have
proof the bond activated, courtesy of your dream, it appears that instead of
following that lifeline Miranda's half of the soul bonded itself to Professor
Snape."
"How do you know she bonded with the Professor? Is that part of the spell
that you performed earlier?" Hermione asked as the nurse tilted her chin up
to have a better vantage to check pupil dilation.
"I was going to cast it again anyway," the elder witch said as she stepped
slightly back and pointed her wand at her. "Let me show you: Visu Vitae!"
The tip of the wand once again began to glow blue. Hermione watched the
colour fade to a sickly yellow as it moved over her.
"A diagnostic spell?" The girl guessed as the yellowish tip hovered before
her eyes. Madame Pomfrey nodded as she contemplated the wand's results.
"The colour and quality of the light can indicate quite a bit about the type
of ill and its severity. If I remember correctly, I believe Madame Pince
has a copy of 'Visu Vitae: A Guide in Use and Meaning' in the restricted
section. If you are interested in reading it, I can write you a pass for it
tomorrow." Hermione nodded excitedly and Professor Snape snorted in
amusement at the tendrils of her enthusiasm that leaked through to him.
Poppy scowled at him before turning back to Hermione to continue. "This
particular colour," she said, gesturing to the wand in her hand, "is very
distinctive. Yellow is strictly reserved for maladies of the spirit and this
shade is best known for denoting an Evanescence." Hermione was opening
her mouth to ask what that meant when Madame Pomfrey held up her hand
to forestall her questions and continued explaining, "Evanescence is a
Mediwitch term for an unnaturally severed soul. Souls can be shared, but
not severed. An incomplete soul without a secure bond to it's other half
can't survive. Unless the connection is re-established, the separated
fragments will slowly wither and die."
"And without the soul…" Hermione said quietly.
"The body dies as well. One can not exist with out the other." Poppy
finished in a mournful tone.
The young woman took a moment to digest this new information. "What can
you do about it?"
"I'm not sure yet. Professor Snape," the Mediwitch said without turning
towards him as she reoriented her wand on Hermione, "take her hand."
He looked at her questioningly, but moved to comply without argument. He
was surprised by how much he'd wanted to offer the girl next to him this
comfort anyway in the wake of the swirling mass of emotions lapping at
the edge of their connection. Her hand was warm from the teacup she'd been
holding and her fingers had laced with his instinctively when he reached for
her. She looked down at their clasped hands and he could feel her amusement
at the irony of their situation. Who would have believed yesterday that
Saturday morning would find her willingly holding hands with the dreaded
Professor Snape? She certainly wouldn't have.
Nor would he, he thought in ironic appreciation. Her gaze rose from their
grip to his eyes and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Much more of this Miss
Granger, and some cultures would consider us engaged." He smirked at the
faint blush that rose to her cheeks as she turned her attention back to Poppy.
Albus chuckled at his comment and replied, "And just think! If we had some
cakes and wine, according to Druidic traditions you'd already be married."
Turning her attention back to the men, Hermione was treated to the almost
unheard of display of a slight flush tinting the cheeks of Severus Snape.
"Just as I thought, look!" Poppy interrupted in time to save him further
embarrassment. All attention returned to the older woman's wand tip. The
colour of the light had already edged it's way into a pale green and was
visibly darkening by the minute. "Her connection to Miranda's portion of
their spirit was split, but enough remains that physical contact still
forms a bridge."
"Brilliant," Snape snapped in derision. "We'll just walk around holding
hands. That should make brewing Lupin's wolfsbane potion tonight an
interesting experience." The werewolf had returned this year to the Defense
Against the Dark Arts position, leaving Severus uncomfortably beholden to
provide him with his monthly draughts.
Hermione blinked at him in surprise, "You make Professor Lupin's wolfsbane
potion?"
With a disdainful look he replied, "I suppose you thought one could just
waltz into Hogsmeade and pluck it off the shelf at Zonkos? Don't be foolish,
Miss Granger, of course I make the potion for him."
She looked chagrin, "I'd never given it much thought, actually. I suppose I
thought that since you obviously despise him you wouldn't be inclined to
go to such a degree of trouble for him. Why, consecrating the silver mirror
used to reflect the moon's light onto the potion as it's steeping alone
takes over a week of complex and draining spell casting!"
"And once again your compulsive need to be ostentatious know-it-all astounds
me," he said mockingly. "I'm well aware of the steps necessary for its
brewing. I do, after all, make it regularly." Instead of taking offence she
looked at him strangely, cocking her head to the side as if listening to
something no-one else could hear.
"It rather looses a bit of its sting when I can feel that you're actually
impressed I knew the potion's steps," She said with a half-smile when she
met his eyes.
Suddenly he felt very exposed. It was bad enough that Dumbledore was able
to read his mind with annoying frequency, to have a second person with the
ability to randomly nose about his head was intolerable. There were things
in there even he'd rather not be subjected to, let alone make accessible to
an impressionable young woman whose mirror image he had kissed with such
gusto earlier this evening. He fought off the urge to cringe at the lack of
judgment that had led to that particular action. To himself, he could admit
that the second time he kissed the girl had nothing to do with saving her
and everything to do with her resemblance to the woman sitting beside him.
But that was not knowledge he was willing to allow the inquisitive Miss
Granger a chance to access. Disentangling his hand from hers, he drew back
to the edge the sofa and visualized building an impenetrable wall between
their thoughts.
As the final mental brick slid into place, the subject of his forced
estrangement crumpled in on herself with a gasp. The tip of Poppy's wand,
which had been an inviting green, erupted into a well of blazing urine
yellow light. "SEVERUS!" Poppy yelped in dismay, "What ever it is you've
done, undo it IMMEDIATELY!"
He gaped for a moment at Hermione's rapidly graying skin tone and then
with the psychic equivalent of a wrecking ball demolished his recently
constructed wall. "I didn't realise," he gasped out loud as he sought her
out telepathically. The empty silence that met his call was disturbing.
Acting on instinct, he reached a cross the couch and pulled her to him.
Settling her unconscious form practically in his lap he clasped her cheeks
in both hands, searching desperately for a way to increase their skin to
skin contact. Pressing his forehead to hers, he found himself in the unique
position of cursing his traditionally formal attire for the multitude of
buttons required to remove it. Removing one hand from her face he grabbed
the corner of his collar and with a savage tug ripped it halfway open,
sending buttons careening like little rockets around the room. Taking her
limp hand, he pressed it to the flesh above his heart and covered it with
his own. "Miss Granger! Awake immediately!" He demanded of the inanimate
woman in his arms with a small shake. There was no response.
He looked up to Albus and Poppy for support. Poppy's wand was still yellow.
"Will casting Enervate or an Awaken spell harm her?" he asked the Mediwitch.
"If she were conscious it would be easier to re-establish the connection."
"Her condition is too unstable," the older woman replied fretfully. "There's
no way to tell how it would affect her."
"Severus," the Headmaster said calmly. "Call her back to us."
"I just did!" He snapped in frustration.
"Not like that," Albus replied firmly as he gestured to their unorthodox
position. "She will listen if you call to her like this. Bring her home."
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he gathered her even closer and
pressed his cheek to hers. Focusing his mind on the slender form in his
embrace, he lowered his internal defences and reached out into the abyss.
*Hermione* He crooned mentally, half-hoping to shock her into consciousness
with his unprecedented use of her first name. *Hermione, come back to us...*
The echoing void held no reply.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"Now I'm bound by the life you left behind." –My Immortal, by Evanescence
*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Notes:
1. Translations:
Homopsuchos (ancient Greek) - Endowed with the same soul.
Visu Vitae (Latin) – To see life.
Translations for ancient Greek courtesy of the Perseus Digital library at:
2. Soul Mates, adapted from Aristophanes' Speech on Love Based on Plato's
"Symposium" – more info available here:
3. A huge thanks to everyone who's given me feedback so far! Keep those
reviews coming! Chapter 4 available next week...
They gaped at each other like fish for several minutes after he opened
the door. He had just collected his composure enough to ask when the
location of his private rooms had become public knowledge when she
silenced him with a step forward. He couldn't help but jerk in surprise
when her fingertips came up to trace his bottom lip. "You taste like
liquorice..." she murmured and then collapsed against him. He barely
had the presence of mind to catch the girl before she hit the floor.
In flabbergasted silence he contemplated the slack Gryffindor in his
arms. Shaking his head in confusion, he wondered what in the Nine Hells
possessed her to say such a thing. Sudden revelation hit him with a
cold wave of insight: at the Revel, the Displaced Suffering potion
he'd slipped the Girl had an anise seed base. Anise not only darkened
a potion's colour it also lent a distinctive black liquorice flavor.
"Bloody hell," he whispered hoarsely as he shifted his grip on her waist
and slid an arm behind her knees to lift her. Her skin was feverishly hot
beneath his hands. In a few short steps he had her spread out on his
couch. The door to his quarters snapped shut with a flick of his wand
and in seconds he had a fire roaring. A handful of powder was tossed
into the flames. "Albus Dumbledore!" he barked impatiently. A minute
later the headmaster's rumpled face came into view.
"Severus," Albus said in sleepy greeting. "I wasn't expecting you to
report until tomorrow."
"Events have conspired to complicate my evening," he snarled in reply,
gesturing backwards to the unconscious figure sprawled out on his sofa.
Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Hogwarts Head Girl
in a limp half-dressed heap on his potion master's settee. "I'll be there
directly. Is she injured?"
The professor's gaze twitched over to the girl and back to him. The
concern in his eyes was unmistakable if one knew what to look for. "The
addition of Poppy's talent would not be remiss."
The headmaster nodded decisively. "I will fetch her. Watch for us shortly."
And then the hearth was filled with nothing but fire.
Severus watched the flames for a moment and then turned away with a sigh.
Striding to his desk, he yanked open a drawer and in a single motion
removed a vial, uncorked it with a deft movement of his thumb and downed
the liquid it contained in one swallow. The Sobriety potion hit him with a
jolt and the hazy distance that had been accompanying his thoughts
evaporated. A quiet whimper drew him from across the room. His unexpected
visitor was writhing on the couch, beads of sweat dotting her skin. Conjuring
a bowl of water and a cloth, he knelt by her side and sponged her face.
The coolness of the rag calmed her enough that the writhing slowly segued
to shivering. Finally noting the oversized shirt that comprised her attire,
he cursed himself for not thinking to cover her first. A quick swish of
his wrist later and the coverlet from his own bed was settling itself over
her. He shook his head ruefully. Given the licentious nature of his thoughts
concerning this young woman earlier tonight, he was surprised he hadn't
noticed her state of undress until she started shivering. Merlin knew what
she thought she was doing wandering around the dungeons in a threadbare
nightshirt. If pneumonia didn't catch her first there was any number of
Slytherin 'gentlemen' who would've been happy to. And their intentions
toward a scantily clad Gryffindor witch found wandering the Snake's Den
at this time of night could hardly be called honourable. Especially a witch
as lovely as the one currently ensconced in his duvet, he couldn't help but
silently acknowledge to himself as he surveyed her still form.
A loud pop from the fireplace caught his attention and unintentionally
heralded Madame Pomfrey's frantic entrance. Upon seeing the acerbic Head
of Slytherin on his knees nursing what was publicly acknowledged as his
least-favorite Gryffindor the anxious woman practically skidded to a halt
in shock. Her stop was so abrupt that Albus walked right into her as he
stepped out of the floo.
"Excuse me, Poppy," he said with uncharacteristic somberness as he stepped
around her. "What happened, Severus?" Upon seeing the headmaster's lack of
reaction, Poppy shook off her surprise and approached her patient. Severus
relinquished his position without complaint, unthinkingly squeezing Hermione's
shoulder as he stood. Dumbledore noted the unconscious action with interest.
"I am uncertain how Miss Granger found her way to my quarters, but I
believe her condition may be connected to the events that transpired
earlier this evening." The headmaster raised an eyebrow in interest and
motioned for him to continue.
"As you know, I apparated to the Meeting when summoned. After the...standard
preliminaries..." The professor was hesitant to elaborate with his current
audience, unwilling to discuss Order business in front of the uninitiated.
Albus nodded slightly in approval of his restraint. "We retired to Malfoy
Manor. Lucius had arranged for the Inner Circle's dinner and…entertainment
for the evening." Poppy blanched at the thought of what Death Eaters must
consider entertainment, but Severus continued without pausing. "After
eating, I followed Lucius down to the dungeon and saw..."
"Me." All eyes turned to the now conscious student. "I was chained to the
wall across from the entrance hall. He said he wanted me to be the first
thing everyone saw, that I'd be an example..."
"He who, Hermione?" Poppy asked, but Snape cut her off before Hermione
could respond.
"Ms. Granger herself was not in attendance," he snapped, glaring at her
interruption.
Hermione frowned at him in befuddlement, "But I remember…"
His glare softened almost imperceptibly and his next words were resigned. "She
was not there. But I believe her Homopsuchos was."
Poppy for a moment just looked at Severus as she processed his words, then
she pulled a wand from her robes and with a quietly muttered spell waved
it over the girl. The tip of the wand, which had begun shining a light
blue, darkened rapidly to sickly glowing yellow.
"Severus, did Miss Granger's Homopsuchos die?" she asked cautiously.
Professor Snape paled in surprise. "Yes, she did. Does that mean...No,
she can't be. The other portion of Miss Granger's soul should have returned
to her own by now."
A startled "What?!" from Hermione was ignored by all parties.
"Well be that as is may, Miss Granger is beginning to Evanesce and since
her Homopsuchos is dead that portion of her soul must be trapped somewhere."
"What does Evanesce mean?" Again ignored, Hermione was steadily growing
more uneasy and annoyed.
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, the twinkle returning to his
eyes. "Poppy, do run your wand over Severus. I have a theory that may be
worth testing." Snape's entire body stiffened in consternation as the tip
turned a brilliant indigo when waved over him.
"Well," began Poppy rather deliberately, as if trying to buy herself time
to think. "That explains where the Homopsuchos' soul is trapped. The
question that remains to be answered is how."
"It's simply impossible" the Potions master bit out, just as Hermione
plaintively said "What's happening to me?" and looked pleadingly from one
adult to another, to no avail.
Finally unable to take being ignored anymore, Hermione leapt to her feet,
"WHAT is impossible?! Will someone please tell me what the bloody hell is
going on!" The adults turned to her as one and the girl shrank sheepishly
into herself.
"Miss Granger," her professor growled as he pinned her with a dark glare,
"you are obviously under the impression that your situation has granted you
some degree of leniency that exempts you from rendering proper respect to
your elders. Let me be the first to assure you that it has NOT. Now sit
down and cover yourself."
She turned as red as Ginny's hair as she realized that she was standing in
nothing but a slightly oversized pyjama top and knickers. With a quick
pivot she dived into the covers she'd just left and sat there awkwardly.
Snape quirked an eyebrow in amusement at her embarrassed silence and said
ruefully, "If only I had something that affective to quiet you during class."
She looked at him strangely. "You said something remarkably similar after
you kissed me." Professor Snape's head snapped back as if she'd slapped
him and Madame Pomfrey whirled on him in outrage.
"I didn't kiss HER!" Snape yelped uncharacteristically and held his hands
up to ward off the enraged Mediwitch. "I kissed the Girl! I needed a way to
slip her the Displaced Suffering potion without raising Lucius' suspicions!"
"Did the Girl have a name?" Albus interjected quietly.
"Miranda Elsing," Severus and Hermione answered in unison and then flinched
in tandem surprise and eyed each other with distrust.
"Much as I suspected," the headmaster said in satisfaction. "Severus, summon
a house elf. Explanations may take some time, and would be aided immensley
by a spot of tea. And perhaps a biscuit or two," he added thoughtfully.
The Professor nodded and moved to obey. Turning, he addressed Hermione,
"Would you care for a sherbert lemon, my dear?" The overwrought girl just
looked at him blankly. "Ah well," he said and popped the sticky treat into
his mouth as he waved Poppy to the seat across from him and settled into
an armchair by the fire himself.
A short time later found tea distributed and Professor Snape situated on
the sofa as far from Hermione as he could manage. The headmaster watched
in amusement as the man shifted uncomfortably - it was, after all, a very
short couch. There was only so far he could edge away from the girl without
falling off the cushion. Hermione, on the other hand, looked remarkably
better. A little colour had returned to her cheeks and the slight tremor
he'd noticed in her hands had receded. Albus glanced at Poppy and saw
that she had noticed the marked improvement as well.
Shifting his attention back to the Head Girl, he asked, "How did you find
Professor Snape's rooms?"
Looking up from her tea, she took a deep breath before answering, "I dreamed
I was Miranda and that he and Mr. Malfoy were t-torturing me." Another deep
breath followed the waiver in her voice. Gathering her Gryffindor courage,
she continued, "And after they were finished, Professor Snape performed
Avada Kedavra on me…I mean…her. I tried to tell myself that it was only a
nightmare, but I just knew it wasn't. I needed some confirmation that I
wasn't going mad so I came here. My feet just seemed to know where to go."
Turning to the man seated next to her she said, "I swear to you, Professor - I
didn't have any idea where your private quarters were before tonight. As
it is, I'm not sure I know the way back..." She trailed off helplessly.
"You dreamed that I tortured and murdered you and then immediately decide
I'M the person you need confirmation from?" Snape asked in sarcastic
disbelief. "Merlin save me from the Gryffindor excuse for logical thinking."
"But you didn't want to do it!" She cried, obviously upset. "And when I saw
you, I could feel how badly you felt about what you had to do and how you'd
only done it to save me from that bastard Lucius! Where else would I go?"
Several things about this sentence caught the headmaster's attention. Not
the least of which was Hermione, who was known to endlessly lecture her
peers on using the proper title to address their elders, using Severus'
nickname of choice in referring to the head of House Malfoy. "What is
Professor Snape feeling now?"
"Irritation," she practically snarled as she picked up the emotion.
"Disbelief at this entire situation and concern for me…" Her words tapered
off as she turned to gawk at her professor in astonishment. "Concern for me?"
she echoed incredulously.
Refusing to give into the obscure desire to squirm under the weight of her
stare, he drew himself up and sneered at her. "If you are quite finished
invading my privacy Miss Granger, perhaps we can return to the matter at
hand. I am fairly certain that you've made the Headmaster's point."
"Indeed she has, Severus." The elder man agreed. "Tell me, Hermione - are
you familiar with a work of Plato's entitled Symposium?"
She blinked at him in surprise, "Symposium? I can't say I am, though I am
familiar with several of his other works. For instance…"
Professor Snape cut her off with an impatient wave, "No need to list them,
Miss Granger. We're all well aware of your pretentiously varied reading
tastes."
Sparing a moment to glare at him, she turned back to Professor Dumbledore
and restated simply, "No sir, I have not read Symposium. Was Plato a wizard?"
"Only a wizard of words," Albus chuckled. "But his Symposium contains
reference to the wizarding legend of Homopsuchos, even if it does not
mention it by name. The story goes that in the early days of the world,
mankind was proud. And in their pride our distant ancestors, believing
themselves equal to the gods, rose up and sought to replace them as the
rulers of Olympus. Their rebellion failed and in retribution for their
folly, the gods split every member of the race of Man in half and scattered
the pieces to the winds. Dooming the poor fractured creatures to spend
eternity searching for their missing halves."
"Like soulmates?" She interrupted.
"Not quite," the headmaster replied. "At least, not with the inherently
romantic connotations we associate the word with today. While it is not
unknown for Homopsuchos to fall in love with each other, publicly it's
looked upon as the ultimate form of narcissism. For example, what are your
two favorite subjects?"
"Arithmancy and Potions," she replied immediately.
"And what where Miranda's two favorite subjects?" the old wizard prompted
with a twinkle in his eye.
"Physics and Chemistry…oh!" She cried understandingly, "Practically
identical!" Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the bond between herself
and the fragment of Miranda that seemed to reside in Professor Snape. "We
have the same opinions on virtually everything! I don't know that I could
stand being with someone who didn't challenge me."
"Loving a person who is nothing more than a mirror of yourself is not an
option that truly appeals to most people." His smile widened, "At least not
for more than a minute."
"Unless you're Gilderoy Lockhart," Professor Snape muttered with a smirk
as he looked down to take a sip of his tea.
Pulling the conversation back on topic, Poppy placed her cup on the conjured
tea table and stood to approach the couch. "When Miranda died her half of
the soul should have merged with yours, Hermione," she said with a worried
frown as she began to perform a more thorough examination of the still-seated
witch. "With both of you alive, an inactive bond existed that allowed the
two halves of your soul to survive without inhabiting the same body. In a
near-death experience, the bond would have activated to allow the imperilled
half of the soul a ready escape should its host body expire. While we have
proof the bond activated, courtesy of your dream, it appears that instead of
following that lifeline Miranda's half of the soul bonded itself to Professor
Snape."
"How do you know she bonded with the Professor? Is that part of the spell
that you performed earlier?" Hermione asked as the nurse tilted her chin up
to have a better vantage to check pupil dilation.
"I was going to cast it again anyway," the elder witch said as she stepped
slightly back and pointed her wand at her. "Let me show you: Visu Vitae!"
The tip of the wand once again began to glow blue. Hermione watched the
colour fade to a sickly yellow as it moved over her.
"A diagnostic spell?" The girl guessed as the yellowish tip hovered before
her eyes. Madame Pomfrey nodded as she contemplated the wand's results.
"The colour and quality of the light can indicate quite a bit about the type
of ill and its severity. If I remember correctly, I believe Madame Pince
has a copy of 'Visu Vitae: A Guide in Use and Meaning' in the restricted
section. If you are interested in reading it, I can write you a pass for it
tomorrow." Hermione nodded excitedly and Professor Snape snorted in
amusement at the tendrils of her enthusiasm that leaked through to him.
Poppy scowled at him before turning back to Hermione to continue. "This
particular colour," she said, gesturing to the wand in her hand, "is very
distinctive. Yellow is strictly reserved for maladies of the spirit and this
shade is best known for denoting an Evanescence." Hermione was opening
her mouth to ask what that meant when Madame Pomfrey held up her hand
to forestall her questions and continued explaining, "Evanescence is a
Mediwitch term for an unnaturally severed soul. Souls can be shared, but
not severed. An incomplete soul without a secure bond to it's other half
can't survive. Unless the connection is re-established, the separated
fragments will slowly wither and die."
"And without the soul…" Hermione said quietly.
"The body dies as well. One can not exist with out the other." Poppy
finished in a mournful tone.
The young woman took a moment to digest this new information. "What can
you do about it?"
"I'm not sure yet. Professor Snape," the Mediwitch said without turning
towards him as she reoriented her wand on Hermione, "take her hand."
He looked at her questioningly, but moved to comply without argument. He
was surprised by how much he'd wanted to offer the girl next to him this
comfort anyway in the wake of the swirling mass of emotions lapping at
the edge of their connection. Her hand was warm from the teacup she'd been
holding and her fingers had laced with his instinctively when he reached for
her. She looked down at their clasped hands and he could feel her amusement
at the irony of their situation. Who would have believed yesterday that
Saturday morning would find her willingly holding hands with the dreaded
Professor Snape? She certainly wouldn't have.
Nor would he, he thought in ironic appreciation. Her gaze rose from their
grip to his eyes and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Much more of this Miss
Granger, and some cultures would consider us engaged." He smirked at the
faint blush that rose to her cheeks as she turned her attention back to Poppy.
Albus chuckled at his comment and replied, "And just think! If we had some
cakes and wine, according to Druidic traditions you'd already be married."
Turning her attention back to the men, Hermione was treated to the almost
unheard of display of a slight flush tinting the cheeks of Severus Snape.
"Just as I thought, look!" Poppy interrupted in time to save him further
embarrassment. All attention returned to the older woman's wand tip. The
colour of the light had already edged it's way into a pale green and was
visibly darkening by the minute. "Her connection to Miranda's portion of
their spirit was split, but enough remains that physical contact still
forms a bridge."
"Brilliant," Snape snapped in derision. "We'll just walk around holding
hands. That should make brewing Lupin's wolfsbane potion tonight an
interesting experience." The werewolf had returned this year to the Defense
Against the Dark Arts position, leaving Severus uncomfortably beholden to
provide him with his monthly draughts.
Hermione blinked at him in surprise, "You make Professor Lupin's wolfsbane
potion?"
With a disdainful look he replied, "I suppose you thought one could just
waltz into Hogsmeade and pluck it off the shelf at Zonkos? Don't be foolish,
Miss Granger, of course I make the potion for him."
She looked chagrin, "I'd never given it much thought, actually. I suppose I
thought that since you obviously despise him you wouldn't be inclined to
go to such a degree of trouble for him. Why, consecrating the silver mirror
used to reflect the moon's light onto the potion as it's steeping alone
takes over a week of complex and draining spell casting!"
"And once again your compulsive need to be ostentatious know-it-all astounds
me," he said mockingly. "I'm well aware of the steps necessary for its
brewing. I do, after all, make it regularly." Instead of taking offence she
looked at him strangely, cocking her head to the side as if listening to
something no-one else could hear.
"It rather looses a bit of its sting when I can feel that you're actually
impressed I knew the potion's steps," She said with a half-smile when she
met his eyes.
Suddenly he felt very exposed. It was bad enough that Dumbledore was able
to read his mind with annoying frequency, to have a second person with the
ability to randomly nose about his head was intolerable. There were things
in there even he'd rather not be subjected to, let alone make accessible to
an impressionable young woman whose mirror image he had kissed with such
gusto earlier this evening. He fought off the urge to cringe at the lack of
judgment that had led to that particular action. To himself, he could admit
that the second time he kissed the girl had nothing to do with saving her
and everything to do with her resemblance to the woman sitting beside him.
But that was not knowledge he was willing to allow the inquisitive Miss
Granger a chance to access. Disentangling his hand from hers, he drew back
to the edge the sofa and visualized building an impenetrable wall between
their thoughts.
As the final mental brick slid into place, the subject of his forced
estrangement crumpled in on herself with a gasp. The tip of Poppy's wand,
which had been an inviting green, erupted into a well of blazing urine
yellow light. "SEVERUS!" Poppy yelped in dismay, "What ever it is you've
done, undo it IMMEDIATELY!"
He gaped for a moment at Hermione's rapidly graying skin tone and then
with the psychic equivalent of a wrecking ball demolished his recently
constructed wall. "I didn't realise," he gasped out loud as he sought her
out telepathically. The empty silence that met his call was disturbing.
Acting on instinct, he reached a cross the couch and pulled her to him.
Settling her unconscious form practically in his lap he clasped her cheeks
in both hands, searching desperately for a way to increase their skin to
skin contact. Pressing his forehead to hers, he found himself in the unique
position of cursing his traditionally formal attire for the multitude of
buttons required to remove it. Removing one hand from her face he grabbed
the corner of his collar and with a savage tug ripped it halfway open,
sending buttons careening like little rockets around the room. Taking her
limp hand, he pressed it to the flesh above his heart and covered it with
his own. "Miss Granger! Awake immediately!" He demanded of the inanimate
woman in his arms with a small shake. There was no response.
He looked up to Albus and Poppy for support. Poppy's wand was still yellow.
"Will casting Enervate or an Awaken spell harm her?" he asked the Mediwitch.
"If she were conscious it would be easier to re-establish the connection."
"Her condition is too unstable," the older woman replied fretfully. "There's
no way to tell how it would affect her."
"Severus," the Headmaster said calmly. "Call her back to us."
"I just did!" He snapped in frustration.
"Not like that," Albus replied firmly as he gestured to their unorthodox
position. "She will listen if you call to her like this. Bring her home."
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he gathered her even closer and
pressed his cheek to hers. Focusing his mind on the slender form in his
embrace, he lowered his internal defences and reached out into the abyss.
*Hermione* He crooned mentally, half-hoping to shock her into consciousness
with his unprecedented use of her first name. *Hermione, come back to us...*
The echoing void held no reply.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"Now I'm bound by the life you left behind." –My Immortal, by Evanescence
*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Notes:
1. Translations:
Homopsuchos (ancient Greek) - Endowed with the same soul.
Visu Vitae (Latin) – To see life.
Translations for ancient Greek courtesy of the Perseus Digital library at:
2. Soul Mates, adapted from Aristophanes' Speech on Love Based on Plato's
"Symposium" – more info available here:
3. A huge thanks to everyone who's given me feedback so far! Keep those
reviews coming! Chapter 4 available next week...