Chapter Four: Save Me From The Dark
"So, you're the other half of my soul."
The voice came from behind, startling her out of her void-induced reverie.
The darkness surrounding her was hypnotic in its vast emptiness and
unknowingly she'd slipped into a kind of catatonia shortly after arriving.
She tried to turn and face the newcomer but her body would not respond
to her demands. There were no words to describe the panic she felt when
she realised she had no physical body to command.
"Calm down," the familiar voice said soothingly, now coming from around
her right side. "You can't expect movement to work the same here. Without
corporeal form it's all a matter of willpower; don't just *tell* your self
to move, *will* it." By the end of this sentence, the speaker had moved
into her line of sight.
It was almost like looking in a mirror.
The differences were subtle, but they were there. The hair was just a shade
too dark, with a single black curl cascading down to accent her face on her
left side. On close examination, she could see the girl's fingernails were
long and smooth - A feat she'd never managed to accomplish due to a nasty
nail chewing habit. But the most obvious distinction was her eyes, mossy
green instead of the familiar brown that graced the Head Girl's looking
glass every morning.
"Miranda," she said in greeting as she bent her will towards making this
new form accede to her mental demands.
"Hermione," the girl smiled wryly in return. "Now that we've established
each other's names, what are you doing here?"
"I don't know," Having achieved control of her ephemeral form, the young
witch frowned in reply. "I was speaking with Professor Snape, and suddenly
I felt an intense spike of pain. The next thing I knew I was surrounded by
all this empty darkness." She looked around helplessly, "Where is 'here'?"
"Limbo," her twin replied. "At least, as best as I can tell. I get the feeling
everyone comes through here at some point. Some of us just stay longer
than others..." She trailed off and looked down uncomfortably, "How long
have I been dead?"
Hermione blinked at her in surprise, "You don't know?"
Miranda shrugged. "Time is funny here; it feels so long ago to me."
"About four hours."
The other girl goggled at her, "FOUR HOURS?!! How can that be? It feels
like an eternity..." She shook her head to clear it, "Or a minute. God, I
can't keep anything straight in this void."
"Have you been here the whole time?"
"Not by half," she replied. "I spent some time rummaging around in Severus'
head before I realised where I was. That's where this came from," she pinched
the black curl between her thumb and forefinger. "The more time I spend in
his mind, the more of him I seem to absorb. I don't think he's noticed me
yet, for the most part everything we've exchanged seems to have been surface
information. So far, anyway." She shivered, "I was afraid I'd lose myself
if I delved any deeper. I spend as much time in Limbo as I can, but as soon
as I relax our bond pulls me back to him."
"How did you end up bonded to him anyway?" Hermione asked in exasperation,
"Why didn't you follow the link to me?"
"I'm not sure," the other girl responded with a sigh. "I felt the pull from
our connection when I died, but when my spirit went to follow it, it was
like some secondary force intervened and drew me to Severus instead."
The witch cringed at his name. "It's very strange to hear you call him
Severus."
"He's not my Professor, Hermione," she replied with smirk. "And considering
that in a weird sort of way this is the most intimate relationship I've ever
been in, I refuse to address him formally. Besides - technically he is my
murderer. I may understand why he did it, but that little fact doesn't
incline me to accord him respectful titles. What does it matter if I call
him Professor Snape or Sevvie? I'm still dead, regardless of what his intentions
were..." Her words trailed off and a thoughtful expression stole over her
face.
"What is it?" Hermione asked with a frown.
"His intentions..." Miranda answered distractedly as she mentally accessed
Severus' memories and knowledge, "He wanted to save me, to take me with him.
And when we kissed some of the Bella Nox from the slash Lucius made on my
cheek mixed with our blood in my mouth..."
"And Bella Nox reacts to the user's intentions!" Hermione gasped excitedly
as she picked up on her double's train of thought through the link, "With
blood's natural binding properties and the crushed flowers as a catalyst,
since he wanted to take you with him, he did!"
*Hermione* Soft words echoed out of the darkness and wound around them
both, cutting off their conversation mid-stream. *Hermione, come back to
us...* Hermione shuddered at the pull of that seductive voice and next to
her Miranda's outline visibly flickered.
"Come on," Miranda choked out, "I don't think I can resist his summoning
and you need to go back anyway."
"How?" Her soul-sister asked as the lure of his call became more insistent
to them both.
"Concentrate on me; I'm pretty sure our connection will drag you along."
"Pretty sure?!" The Gryffindor squeaked.
At this point the other girl's form was sputtering in and out of focus like
a strobe light. "Aren't you the witch?" She snapped in frustration, "I'm
acting on instinct and pirated information here - if you've got anything
better then by all means, speak up! As it is, if following the link doesn't
pull you with me, then I'll be back for you."
*Please, Hermione...you must come back...* Both girls shuddered under the
wave of desperate longing that accompanied his plea.
"Go," Hermione spat through gritted teeth, "I'll be right behind you."
Miranda nodded unsteadily and blinked out of sight. Hermione closed her
eyes and focused on trailing the ephemeral thread connecting them.
The world spun around her and when she opened her eyes, she and Miranda
were standing beside the couch where Professor Snape was clutching her
unconscious body. The power his call had over them decreased in urgency
with their close proximity. Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were
hovering concernedly around the entwined figures on the sofa.
Blinking in shock, the young witch studied the staff members crowding the
room. An intangible ring of various colours surrounded each one. The
Headmaster's was a corona of shining silver that murmured to her of the power
of the moon and the pull of the tides; still water with undercurrents that
ran deep and potent. The Mediwitch glowed a healer's green speckled with
warm brown, echoing the safety and security of a mother's arms. Turning her
attention to the man in front of her, she saw that Professor Snape's aura
held the greatest array of colours in the group. The base shade of his nimbus
was a blue so deep it was almost black, velvet and soft as the wings of a
raven. Blotches of angry red regret spotted it and gray streaks of desperation
randomly appeared and disappeared throughout, reminding her of soft summer
rain. Around it all a thin edge of gold circled him like a crown.
The Professor was cradling her body on his lap with a tenderness she would
never have believed him capable of before now. Her eyebrow rose at the sight
of his normally immaculate suit coat practically shredded to give her limp
hand access to his skin. She was surprised to realise that she found seeing
the air surrounding her physical shell devoid of light far more disturbing
than the reality of being in such an intimate position with Severus Snape.
Not caring to examine the nature of that thought too closely, Hermione
raised her arm and found it surrounded by a mellow gold of the same hue as
that which rimmed the Professor. She looked inquiringly to her twin.
"That's our gold," Miranda nodded in answer to her unspoken question. "He
got it the same time I got the streak," she shook her mane of wild curls in
illustration.
"You don't glow," Hermione said with a frown as she studied the girl beside
her.
Miranda's response was bitter, "Auras are the domain of the Living. Neither
of us have one in Limbo and on this plane I don't qualify."
Hermione crossed her arms and chewed her lip thoughtfully, "I wonder if I
could just take you with me when I rejoin my body."
The other girl unthinkingly mirrored her pose. "I don't know...I have this
feeling that we couldn't exist in one body without merging. I don't know
that I'm ready to lose my individuality."
"I know," the witch replied with an unhappy sigh. "It sounds scary to me
too, but what choice do we have? Without a solid connection to each other
it's only a matter of time before our segregation destroys us both. It's
only been four hours and you're already showing visible signs of melding
with your host. If we take the time to search for other options you could
end up welded to Professor Snape so solidly that there's no hope of
untangling without causing all of us lasting harm."
Miranda's shoulders slumped. She could feel that Hermione was right, but
the concept of losing her sense of self was so frightening. At this point
her identity was all she had left. Even so, as much as she wanted to fight
it, she couldn't deny there was an insidious desire creeping into her heart
to be WHOLE. Subconsciously all her life, she'd felt the ache of her
spiritual deficiency. Even her dreams had been plagued by the subtle
certainty that something was missing, something important, and if only she
could find it then the cursed hollow feeling would FINALLY go away...
"I know what you're feeling," her soul-sister whispered solemnly. "I've felt
it too. We've got to face facts, Miranda; whether we like it or not, this is
how it was meant to be."
Her twin smiled weakly, "Now I know why they put you in Gryffindor."
"Don't you mean Us?" Hermione said with an answering smile as she opened
her arms to her wayward other half.
"Us," Miranda agreed; her smile gaining strength as she stepped into her
Homopsuchos' embrace. Time seemed to crawl to a stop as the two girls melted
into one another with a flash of golden light and disappeared.
*~*~*~*~*
When the body in his arms jerked to consciousness, Severus Snape found
himself thanking Gods he hadn't otherwise acknowledged in over twenty years.
The hand pressed to his chest gripped spasmodically and satiny skin of her
cheek slid along his neck to burrow into the hollow of his throat. He closed
his eyes in relief and unconsciously pulled her closer in silent gratitude.
The breath of the slender frame clasped to his chest hitched and a small
whimper was lost against the skin of his neck. For a split second he thought
she was justifiably horrified at waking up in this position with him, but
then her grief hit him through the bond with unexpected force. The intensity
of her pain shook him badly and without thinking he clutched her even closer
to his side and tangled the hand that had been keeping hers against his heart
in her soft mass of curls. "What is it, what's wrong?" He gasped as he rocked
her in his arms. Her reply was so quiet that even with her practically
whispering in his ear, he strained to make out her words.
"It didn't work, it didn't work, I've been homogenised like so much milk and
it didn't make a damn bit of difference..."
He found her response was disjointed and nonsensical, so he eased her back
from his neck regretfully. "What didn't work, Miss Granger?" He felt vaguely
ridiculous calling a half-dressed woman draped across his lap by her surname,
but the alternative was far too unacceptable for his position in her life,
even given their intimate position. The eyes that met his questioning gaze
were wide and mournful, the moisture of unshed tears darkening her lashes.
"It didn't work," she informed him again solemnly. He suppressed a growl of
irritation, but before he could press her further she closed her eyes and
flooded his mind with images. In an instant he followed her trip through
the void, conversations with Miranda, and assorted revelations. A wave of
self-recrimination welled up and threatened to drown him at the discovery
that responsibility for this situation fell solely on his shoulders. If only
he'd done things differently...
The woman in his arms drew him closer and sent him assurance in soothing
ripples. It was foolish for him to condemn himself; while she was understandably
not happy with the results, she understood why the scenario had followed the
course it had. She did not blame him. While she'd rather not be in this
situation, what else could he have done? He had saved her from as much
pain as possible; anything else would have meant his death as well and what
would that have accomplished?
The temptation to take the comfort she offered was almost overwhelming. He
quite literally couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much physical
contact with another human being, let alone one as alluring as the witch
currently clinging to his neck in quiet desperation to set him at ease. But
as much as he may want to accept her unthinking forgiveness, he knew it
was nothing more than typical Gryffindor sentimentality. He was aware of
the properties of Bella Nox flowers; he'd watched Lucius practically coat
her in their pulp. He should have taken better care not come into contact
with any of the juice. As it was, even after half a bottle of scotch he could
still taste the exotic tang of the flowers that had coated his tongue as he
kissed her. And as 'noble' as her sudden interest in his welfare was undoubtedly
meant to be, by his definition it was highly suspect. He pursed his lips
sourly as he reminded himself that had it not been for his lack of foresight
this evening, it was unlikely the woman wrapped around his neck would have
taken the time to spit on him if he were on fire.
A wispy memory of flames and quidditch floated through the bond and with
a harsh bark of humourless laughter he realised that not only was her making
token attempts to put him out highly unlikely, at one point she had apparently
been the one starting the blaze. The combined entity that was Hermione pulled
back quizzically at the dour humour seeping through their link.
"Severus?" The Headmaster's query reminded him that they had an audience.
Resolutely, he lifted Hermione from his lap and set her back down on the
couch.
"Very soon you and I are going to have a serious chat about your propensity
for attacking Professors," he sternly told her with a malicious grin. Her
eyes went round and wide as an owl's when it occurred to her what he was
referring to.
Standing up, he retrieved his wand and with a muttered "Sartor resartus!"
mended the damage to his collar. Tucking his wand back in his sleeve, he
addressed Albus and Poppy, "In a prime example of how no good deed goes
unpunished, it appears that in my attempt to spare Miss Elsing from the
final indignities of the evening I inadvertently created our current situation.
Lucius had used the remains of some Bella Nox blossoms he blamed her for
destroying to augment her torture and some of the juice was accidentally
mixed with our blood when I slipped her the Displaced Suffering tablet.
Had I not made an attempt to ease her suffering, upon dying her spirit would
have found its way to Miss Granger without event. Instead, unfortunately,
the flowers reacted to the combination of our blood and my desire to save
the girl and activated to bond her to me."
"Horribly unpredictable things, Bella Nox irises..." Professor Dumbledore
mumbled in an amused voice.
Severus shot him a glare before continuing. "It appears that Miss Elsing's
essence was already beginning to show signs of amalgamating with mine.
To preserver the integrity of their spirit, she and Miss Granger have Merged."
"We thought it would secure our bond," Hermione said as she pressed the hand
Snape had held to his breast while she was unconscious over her heart, "but
it didn't work. I still feel so hollow. The only difference is that now I'm..."
"Homogenised like so much milk?" Professor Snape cut in, mimicking back her
own words to her with a smirk.
"I was going to say combined," she bit back as she tossed a dark look his way.
"I don't know that I'd say it was a complete failure," Poppy said as she held
her still-active wand in front of her. The tip shone a yellowish green with
a tinge of brown around the edges. "The rate of your existing Evanescence
appears to have slowed considerably. Unfortunately, it does look as if your
fusion with Miss Elsing aggravated the already unstable Bond between yourself
and Professor Snape."
"What exactly does that mean for us, Poppy?" Severus snapped, unwilling to
wait for her to get around to the point and feeling increasingly more exhausted
and irritable by the minute.
Feeling a bit snappish herself after all this excitement at four o'clock in
the morning, the Mediwitch growled back, "It means, Severus, that until we
can find a way to stabilize your connection, Miss Granger and yourself will
have to remain in close proximity. Being outside your immediate vicinity
with an unfixed link will become increasingly painful for her and in an
extreme instance would result in a comatose state followed by death."
Severus blinked at her in surprise. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting,
but that certainly wasn't it. Sinking back on to the couch, a quick glance
to his left showed that the face of the stricken young woman beside him had
completely drained of color. Irreverently, it occurred to him that if she
was that white, then his skin must be ghastly pale because all the blood in
his body felt as if it were pooled in his feet.
"How close do we have to be?" She asked in a raspy voice that wasn't a
fraction as tremulous as he knew she felt.
"About five yards at this point," Poppy said as she studied her wand. "Probably
less by tomorrow. The allowable space will decrease continuously until we
find a proper ballast for your conjunction."
"Poppy," Albus said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "In this instance,
wouldn't the Sumpsuchos Ritual solve the majority of our problems?" The
other three occupants of the room gaped at him disbelievingly for a minute
before Madame Pomfrey was able to sputter a reply.
"Well, technically yes. But, Albus..." She trailed off as she glanced at the
two figures on the couch still frozen in shock.
"You. Can. NOT. Be. Serious." Professor Snape ultimately managed to grind
out from between clenched teeth as he gripped the arm of the couch with
white-knuckled intensity.
Hermione glanced at him uneasily at the deadly silence that had fallen over
their link. "Isn't the Sumpsuchos Ritual a form of Wizarding marriage?" She
asked faintly when it became obvious no one else was going to speak. To her
right Professor Snape was looking distinctly ill and the deathly stillness from
his side of their bond continued unabated.
"Indeed," the Headmaster replied with his trademark twinkling grin. "One of
the most ancient wedding rituals in existence. It's scarcely practiced anymore,
but for over a thousand years it was the primary form of marriage all through
out Europe. While it wouldn't have been affective with Miranda and Hermione
separated, since the two of them merged into a single being it's the perfect
solution!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together once in excited appreciation.
"You gave me the idea for it earlier, Severus - the ritual is simple enough
to perform and as a Grand Wizard I have the authority. We need only rouse
a second witness - You don't mind being the primary witness, do you Poppy?"
The elder woman shook her head dazedly. "Splendid! Who shall we wake? I'm
sorry, my dear," he said to Hermione. "Neither Ron nor Harry have reached
the age of consent. A pity we didn't give them time-turners as well or you
could have one of them witness for you!"
Snape made a mental note to never jest about being engaged in front of Albus
Dumbledore EVER again. One sarcastic comment and the barmy old man was
ready to publish the bans. While he was technically right - the Sumpsuchos
ritual would solidify the Bond - it was also a legally binding form of
marriage that eternally united the souls of two people! He doubted very
highly that the woman next to him would enjoy being tied to his tattered
spirit for the rest of eternity. At least with their current situation it
was likely the bond would dissolve once all parties involved were post
mortem. How in the name of Merlin was he going to get them both out of
this before the Headmaster chucked them into the nuptial bed?
Hermione turned plaintively to the man next to her for support. In the
face of the Headmaster's enthusiasm for his idea, she had no doubt that
alone she would have had little hope of escaping his maneuvering. Feeling
the simmering indignation starting to filter through their link, she found
herself profoundly grateful to have Severus Snape for backup. It occurred
to her that in any prior context she would have been overwhelmed by the
strangeness of that thought but at the moment she could only find it comforting.
Professor Snape stood abruptly with a jerky motion. "In deference to your
position as Headmaster and out of courtesy for our years of friendship, I
will endeavor to pretend you did not just suggest that," he said stiffly.
"Sumpsuchos is not something to be taken lightly and it is not a ritual that
anyone should be forced into. Quite frankly, it is also not an option I am
willing to even consider in relation to one of my students." Rigidly, he
stalked to a bookcase on the other side of the room. Hermione felt a twinge
of pain from even that short distance and fought down a wince. Yanking a
heavy leather book from the shelves, he paged restlessly through it until
he found what he was looking for. He repressed a shiver as he stared at
the text. Given how well his existing one was working out, the last thing
in the world he wanted was another mystical tattoo. But in the face of the
alternative...
Stalking back to the congregation, he shoved the open volume at the Headmaster.
"Here," he snarled as he jabbed the page. "The Bridge of Ether should give
us enough control over the bond to ensure that Miss Granger doesn't expire
from separation anxiety the next time I have to venture into the Forbidden
Forrest for Lupin's wolfsbane."
He expected Albus to look deflated after having his idea so thoroughly
rejected, but instead he looked pleased. Severus' lips thinned as he realised
that once again the tricky old bastard had maneuvered him into making
exactly the decision he wanted. The Sumpsuchos suggestion was just to throw
him off and make the Bridge of Ether look palatable. Merlin knew, he would
never have considered anything requiring a magical tattoo otherwise.
"Are you certain you weren't in Slytherin?" He asked sourly as he sank back
down on the couch next to Hermione. The Headmaster ignored his question
with a smile.
"This is a brilliant idea, Severus. Do you have enough Ether on hand to meet
the potion's requirements?"
Leaning his head back against the sofa, he closed his eyes and with a
saturnine grimace mentally reviewed the contents of his storeroom, "Not
remotely. Ether is the base of the tincture; I'll need at least two bottles
more. And I'm completely out of powdered Orb of Thessulah." He raised his
head and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I should be able to pick
both up in Diagon Alley without difficulty."
It occurred to him that Miss Granger was being uncharacteristically silent.
Looking her way, it was readily apparent why. The young witch's head was
slumped against the sofa in exhaustion and her eyes had drifted closed. He
found her sudden resemblance to a worn-out toddler entertaining. Feeling his
amusement through the link, she lifted her head and blinked at him in sleepy incomprehension.
"It appears that further explanation will have to wait," he said with a
smirk. "Apparently it's past Miss Granger's bed time." At that Madame Pomfrey
stifled a yawn from her seat by the fire.
"I would say that it's so far past everyone's bed time that the house elves
will soon be serving breakfast. I think now would be an excellent time for
all of us to retire," the Headmaster said indulgently. Standing, he offered
Poppy a hand and helped her to her feet. "I will send a tray to your quarters
around 12:30 with lunch for the two of you, Severus - do try to at least
sleep until then. I trust you'll do your best to make Hermione comfortable."
The two people on the couch shared a startled glance at the realisation that
she would be staying in his quarters. It was one thing to have Poppy say they
needed to stick close to each other, but being faced with the reality of the
Headmaster and the Mediwitch walking out the door and leaving them alone
was another thing entirely. The older wizard took their silence as confirmation
and placed a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. "Don't look so
worried, Severus; I'm sure you and Hermione will be able to sort through
this mess without difficulty."
The potion master's head came up slowly. "We are in the presence of a student,
Headmaster. Wouldn't you say the continued familiarity of our first names
is a touch out of place?"
"I would say, Severus, that in light of this evening events the very least
the lady has earned is the right to call you by name," Albus replied
sardonically. "After all, she does know what you taste like."
The professor blanched and Hermione lowered her eyes to study her hands,
embarrassment at the reminder of her delirious declaration staining her
cheeks. Through their nebulous link she could feel the man next to her tamp
down his mortification and draw the tatter threads of his propriety around
him like a cloak.
"All the more reason to insist upon adhering to proper protocols," he said
stiffly.
Albus studied him thoughtfully with his familiar grin and then replied, "I
will of course leave it to you to specify how Hermione addresses you. But
you may find it difficult to maintain that distance with someone who can
answer the questions before you ask them."
"And what about that exactly would differ from my existing relationship
with Miss Granger?" He asked sourly.
"As you will, Severus." Albus answered with a chuckle as he released them.
"See me this evening after you finish your brewing. I still need your
official in depth report of last night's events and Poppy will need to
examine both of you to ensure the Bridge of Ether is sufficient for your
needs."
The Professor nodded and rose to see the pair out. Bidding the two a final
good night that was echoed by the woman on his couch, he closed the door
behind them and turned to lean back against it. His gaze was met by the dark
haired beauty in a half-dressed tangle with his favorite blanket on the
sofa. He had opened his mouth to demand the cover back when it occurred
to him that by now the fabric had no doubt absorbed enough of her scent
that laying in it would be uncomfortably analogous to being wrapped in her
arms for his sensitive nose. Having already had enough of that this evening
to haunt his dreams, he snapped his mouth shut. The young woman suddenly
squirmed uncomfortably and looked down at her hands with a blush. He cringed
suddenly as he realised he must have transmitted some of his thoughts to her unconsciously. Letting his head fall back against the door with a thud, he
scrubbed his hands tiredly over his face.
Would this night never end?
*~*~*~*~*
"Wake me up inside,
call my name and save me
from the dark.
Bid my blood to run,
before I come undone.
Save me from
the nothing I've become."
- Bring Me To Life, Daredevil Soundtrack/Fallen album, Evanescence
*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Notes:
1. Translations:
Sartor resartus (Latin) - The tailor patched.
Sumpsuchos (ancient Greek) - of one mind, at unity, united in soul
2. Kudos to everyone who caught the Buffy reference. With all this soul binding stuff, I just couldn't resist!
3. Madeleine Jete: When/why did I read Symposium? I blame it all on "The Butcher's Wife" - remember that sappy Demi Moore movie from the early nineties? They quoted the legend in the Symposium but said it came from a work of Plato's called "The Corruption." After much fruitless searching I found there is no work of his by that title. Took me a while to hunt down the correct piece, but there you have it! Plus I'm a big dork and enjoy classic Greco-Roman literature anyway. ;-)
"So, you're the other half of my soul."
The voice came from behind, startling her out of her void-induced reverie.
The darkness surrounding her was hypnotic in its vast emptiness and
unknowingly she'd slipped into a kind of catatonia shortly after arriving.
She tried to turn and face the newcomer but her body would not respond
to her demands. There were no words to describe the panic she felt when
she realised she had no physical body to command.
"Calm down," the familiar voice said soothingly, now coming from around
her right side. "You can't expect movement to work the same here. Without
corporeal form it's all a matter of willpower; don't just *tell* your self
to move, *will* it." By the end of this sentence, the speaker had moved
into her line of sight.
It was almost like looking in a mirror.
The differences were subtle, but they were there. The hair was just a shade
too dark, with a single black curl cascading down to accent her face on her
left side. On close examination, she could see the girl's fingernails were
long and smooth - A feat she'd never managed to accomplish due to a nasty
nail chewing habit. But the most obvious distinction was her eyes, mossy
green instead of the familiar brown that graced the Head Girl's looking
glass every morning.
"Miranda," she said in greeting as she bent her will towards making this
new form accede to her mental demands.
"Hermione," the girl smiled wryly in return. "Now that we've established
each other's names, what are you doing here?"
"I don't know," Having achieved control of her ephemeral form, the young
witch frowned in reply. "I was speaking with Professor Snape, and suddenly
I felt an intense spike of pain. The next thing I knew I was surrounded by
all this empty darkness." She looked around helplessly, "Where is 'here'?"
"Limbo," her twin replied. "At least, as best as I can tell. I get the feeling
everyone comes through here at some point. Some of us just stay longer
than others..." She trailed off and looked down uncomfortably, "How long
have I been dead?"
Hermione blinked at her in surprise, "You don't know?"
Miranda shrugged. "Time is funny here; it feels so long ago to me."
"About four hours."
The other girl goggled at her, "FOUR HOURS?!! How can that be? It feels
like an eternity..." She shook her head to clear it, "Or a minute. God, I
can't keep anything straight in this void."
"Have you been here the whole time?"
"Not by half," she replied. "I spent some time rummaging around in Severus'
head before I realised where I was. That's where this came from," she pinched
the black curl between her thumb and forefinger. "The more time I spend in
his mind, the more of him I seem to absorb. I don't think he's noticed me
yet, for the most part everything we've exchanged seems to have been surface
information. So far, anyway." She shivered, "I was afraid I'd lose myself
if I delved any deeper. I spend as much time in Limbo as I can, but as soon
as I relax our bond pulls me back to him."
"How did you end up bonded to him anyway?" Hermione asked in exasperation,
"Why didn't you follow the link to me?"
"I'm not sure," the other girl responded with a sigh. "I felt the pull from
our connection when I died, but when my spirit went to follow it, it was
like some secondary force intervened and drew me to Severus instead."
The witch cringed at his name. "It's very strange to hear you call him
Severus."
"He's not my Professor, Hermione," she replied with smirk. "And considering
that in a weird sort of way this is the most intimate relationship I've ever
been in, I refuse to address him formally. Besides - technically he is my
murderer. I may understand why he did it, but that little fact doesn't
incline me to accord him respectful titles. What does it matter if I call
him Professor Snape or Sevvie? I'm still dead, regardless of what his intentions
were..." Her words trailed off and a thoughtful expression stole over her
face.
"What is it?" Hermione asked with a frown.
"His intentions..." Miranda answered distractedly as she mentally accessed
Severus' memories and knowledge, "He wanted to save me, to take me with him.
And when we kissed some of the Bella Nox from the slash Lucius made on my
cheek mixed with our blood in my mouth..."
"And Bella Nox reacts to the user's intentions!" Hermione gasped excitedly
as she picked up on her double's train of thought through the link, "With
blood's natural binding properties and the crushed flowers as a catalyst,
since he wanted to take you with him, he did!"
*Hermione* Soft words echoed out of the darkness and wound around them
both, cutting off their conversation mid-stream. *Hermione, come back to
us...* Hermione shuddered at the pull of that seductive voice and next to
her Miranda's outline visibly flickered.
"Come on," Miranda choked out, "I don't think I can resist his summoning
and you need to go back anyway."
"How?" Her soul-sister asked as the lure of his call became more insistent
to them both.
"Concentrate on me; I'm pretty sure our connection will drag you along."
"Pretty sure?!" The Gryffindor squeaked.
At this point the other girl's form was sputtering in and out of focus like
a strobe light. "Aren't you the witch?" She snapped in frustration, "I'm
acting on instinct and pirated information here - if you've got anything
better then by all means, speak up! As it is, if following the link doesn't
pull you with me, then I'll be back for you."
*Please, Hermione...you must come back...* Both girls shuddered under the
wave of desperate longing that accompanied his plea.
"Go," Hermione spat through gritted teeth, "I'll be right behind you."
Miranda nodded unsteadily and blinked out of sight. Hermione closed her
eyes and focused on trailing the ephemeral thread connecting them.
The world spun around her and when she opened her eyes, she and Miranda
were standing beside the couch where Professor Snape was clutching her
unconscious body. The power his call had over them decreased in urgency
with their close proximity. Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were
hovering concernedly around the entwined figures on the sofa.
Blinking in shock, the young witch studied the staff members crowding the
room. An intangible ring of various colours surrounded each one. The
Headmaster's was a corona of shining silver that murmured to her of the power
of the moon and the pull of the tides; still water with undercurrents that
ran deep and potent. The Mediwitch glowed a healer's green speckled with
warm brown, echoing the safety and security of a mother's arms. Turning her
attention to the man in front of her, she saw that Professor Snape's aura
held the greatest array of colours in the group. The base shade of his nimbus
was a blue so deep it was almost black, velvet and soft as the wings of a
raven. Blotches of angry red regret spotted it and gray streaks of desperation
randomly appeared and disappeared throughout, reminding her of soft summer
rain. Around it all a thin edge of gold circled him like a crown.
The Professor was cradling her body on his lap with a tenderness she would
never have believed him capable of before now. Her eyebrow rose at the sight
of his normally immaculate suit coat practically shredded to give her limp
hand access to his skin. She was surprised to realise that she found seeing
the air surrounding her physical shell devoid of light far more disturbing
than the reality of being in such an intimate position with Severus Snape.
Not caring to examine the nature of that thought too closely, Hermione
raised her arm and found it surrounded by a mellow gold of the same hue as
that which rimmed the Professor. She looked inquiringly to her twin.
"That's our gold," Miranda nodded in answer to her unspoken question. "He
got it the same time I got the streak," she shook her mane of wild curls in
illustration.
"You don't glow," Hermione said with a frown as she studied the girl beside
her.
Miranda's response was bitter, "Auras are the domain of the Living. Neither
of us have one in Limbo and on this plane I don't qualify."
Hermione crossed her arms and chewed her lip thoughtfully, "I wonder if I
could just take you with me when I rejoin my body."
The other girl unthinkingly mirrored her pose. "I don't know...I have this
feeling that we couldn't exist in one body without merging. I don't know
that I'm ready to lose my individuality."
"I know," the witch replied with an unhappy sigh. "It sounds scary to me
too, but what choice do we have? Without a solid connection to each other
it's only a matter of time before our segregation destroys us both. It's
only been four hours and you're already showing visible signs of melding
with your host. If we take the time to search for other options you could
end up welded to Professor Snape so solidly that there's no hope of
untangling without causing all of us lasting harm."
Miranda's shoulders slumped. She could feel that Hermione was right, but
the concept of losing her sense of self was so frightening. At this point
her identity was all she had left. Even so, as much as she wanted to fight
it, she couldn't deny there was an insidious desire creeping into her heart
to be WHOLE. Subconsciously all her life, she'd felt the ache of her
spiritual deficiency. Even her dreams had been plagued by the subtle
certainty that something was missing, something important, and if only she
could find it then the cursed hollow feeling would FINALLY go away...
"I know what you're feeling," her soul-sister whispered solemnly. "I've felt
it too. We've got to face facts, Miranda; whether we like it or not, this is
how it was meant to be."
Her twin smiled weakly, "Now I know why they put you in Gryffindor."
"Don't you mean Us?" Hermione said with an answering smile as she opened
her arms to her wayward other half.
"Us," Miranda agreed; her smile gaining strength as she stepped into her
Homopsuchos' embrace. Time seemed to crawl to a stop as the two girls melted
into one another with a flash of golden light and disappeared.
*~*~*~*~*
When the body in his arms jerked to consciousness, Severus Snape found
himself thanking Gods he hadn't otherwise acknowledged in over twenty years.
The hand pressed to his chest gripped spasmodically and satiny skin of her
cheek slid along his neck to burrow into the hollow of his throat. He closed
his eyes in relief and unconsciously pulled her closer in silent gratitude.
The breath of the slender frame clasped to his chest hitched and a small
whimper was lost against the skin of his neck. For a split second he thought
she was justifiably horrified at waking up in this position with him, but
then her grief hit him through the bond with unexpected force. The intensity
of her pain shook him badly and without thinking he clutched her even closer
to his side and tangled the hand that had been keeping hers against his heart
in her soft mass of curls. "What is it, what's wrong?" He gasped as he rocked
her in his arms. Her reply was so quiet that even with her practically
whispering in his ear, he strained to make out her words.
"It didn't work, it didn't work, I've been homogenised like so much milk and
it didn't make a damn bit of difference..."
He found her response was disjointed and nonsensical, so he eased her back
from his neck regretfully. "What didn't work, Miss Granger?" He felt vaguely
ridiculous calling a half-dressed woman draped across his lap by her surname,
but the alternative was far too unacceptable for his position in her life,
even given their intimate position. The eyes that met his questioning gaze
were wide and mournful, the moisture of unshed tears darkening her lashes.
"It didn't work," she informed him again solemnly. He suppressed a growl of
irritation, but before he could press her further she closed her eyes and
flooded his mind with images. In an instant he followed her trip through
the void, conversations with Miranda, and assorted revelations. A wave of
self-recrimination welled up and threatened to drown him at the discovery
that responsibility for this situation fell solely on his shoulders. If only
he'd done things differently...
The woman in his arms drew him closer and sent him assurance in soothing
ripples. It was foolish for him to condemn himself; while she was understandably
not happy with the results, she understood why the scenario had followed the
course it had. She did not blame him. While she'd rather not be in this
situation, what else could he have done? He had saved her from as much
pain as possible; anything else would have meant his death as well and what
would that have accomplished?
The temptation to take the comfort she offered was almost overwhelming. He
quite literally couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much physical
contact with another human being, let alone one as alluring as the witch
currently clinging to his neck in quiet desperation to set him at ease. But
as much as he may want to accept her unthinking forgiveness, he knew it
was nothing more than typical Gryffindor sentimentality. He was aware of
the properties of Bella Nox flowers; he'd watched Lucius practically coat
her in their pulp. He should have taken better care not come into contact
with any of the juice. As it was, even after half a bottle of scotch he could
still taste the exotic tang of the flowers that had coated his tongue as he
kissed her. And as 'noble' as her sudden interest in his welfare was undoubtedly
meant to be, by his definition it was highly suspect. He pursed his lips
sourly as he reminded himself that had it not been for his lack of foresight
this evening, it was unlikely the woman wrapped around his neck would have
taken the time to spit on him if he were on fire.
A wispy memory of flames and quidditch floated through the bond and with
a harsh bark of humourless laughter he realised that not only was her making
token attempts to put him out highly unlikely, at one point she had apparently
been the one starting the blaze. The combined entity that was Hermione pulled
back quizzically at the dour humour seeping through their link.
"Severus?" The Headmaster's query reminded him that they had an audience.
Resolutely, he lifted Hermione from his lap and set her back down on the
couch.
"Very soon you and I are going to have a serious chat about your propensity
for attacking Professors," he sternly told her with a malicious grin. Her
eyes went round and wide as an owl's when it occurred to her what he was
referring to.
Standing up, he retrieved his wand and with a muttered "Sartor resartus!"
mended the damage to his collar. Tucking his wand back in his sleeve, he
addressed Albus and Poppy, "In a prime example of how no good deed goes
unpunished, it appears that in my attempt to spare Miss Elsing from the
final indignities of the evening I inadvertently created our current situation.
Lucius had used the remains of some Bella Nox blossoms he blamed her for
destroying to augment her torture and some of the juice was accidentally
mixed with our blood when I slipped her the Displaced Suffering tablet.
Had I not made an attempt to ease her suffering, upon dying her spirit would
have found its way to Miss Granger without event. Instead, unfortunately,
the flowers reacted to the combination of our blood and my desire to save
the girl and activated to bond her to me."
"Horribly unpredictable things, Bella Nox irises..." Professor Dumbledore
mumbled in an amused voice.
Severus shot him a glare before continuing. "It appears that Miss Elsing's
essence was already beginning to show signs of amalgamating with mine.
To preserver the integrity of their spirit, she and Miss Granger have Merged."
"We thought it would secure our bond," Hermione said as she pressed the hand
Snape had held to his breast while she was unconscious over her heart, "but
it didn't work. I still feel so hollow. The only difference is that now I'm..."
"Homogenised like so much milk?" Professor Snape cut in, mimicking back her
own words to her with a smirk.
"I was going to say combined," she bit back as she tossed a dark look his way.
"I don't know that I'd say it was a complete failure," Poppy said as she held
her still-active wand in front of her. The tip shone a yellowish green with
a tinge of brown around the edges. "The rate of your existing Evanescence
appears to have slowed considerably. Unfortunately, it does look as if your
fusion with Miss Elsing aggravated the already unstable Bond between yourself
and Professor Snape."
"What exactly does that mean for us, Poppy?" Severus snapped, unwilling to
wait for her to get around to the point and feeling increasingly more exhausted
and irritable by the minute.
Feeling a bit snappish herself after all this excitement at four o'clock in
the morning, the Mediwitch growled back, "It means, Severus, that until we
can find a way to stabilize your connection, Miss Granger and yourself will
have to remain in close proximity. Being outside your immediate vicinity
with an unfixed link will become increasingly painful for her and in an
extreme instance would result in a comatose state followed by death."
Severus blinked at her in surprise. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting,
but that certainly wasn't it. Sinking back on to the couch, a quick glance
to his left showed that the face of the stricken young woman beside him had
completely drained of color. Irreverently, it occurred to him that if she
was that white, then his skin must be ghastly pale because all the blood in
his body felt as if it were pooled in his feet.
"How close do we have to be?" She asked in a raspy voice that wasn't a
fraction as tremulous as he knew she felt.
"About five yards at this point," Poppy said as she studied her wand. "Probably
less by tomorrow. The allowable space will decrease continuously until we
find a proper ballast for your conjunction."
"Poppy," Albus said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "In this instance,
wouldn't the Sumpsuchos Ritual solve the majority of our problems?" The
other three occupants of the room gaped at him disbelievingly for a minute
before Madame Pomfrey was able to sputter a reply.
"Well, technically yes. But, Albus..." She trailed off as she glanced at the
two figures on the couch still frozen in shock.
"You. Can. NOT. Be. Serious." Professor Snape ultimately managed to grind
out from between clenched teeth as he gripped the arm of the couch with
white-knuckled intensity.
Hermione glanced at him uneasily at the deadly silence that had fallen over
their link. "Isn't the Sumpsuchos Ritual a form of Wizarding marriage?" She
asked faintly when it became obvious no one else was going to speak. To her
right Professor Snape was looking distinctly ill and the deathly stillness from
his side of their bond continued unabated.
"Indeed," the Headmaster replied with his trademark twinkling grin. "One of
the most ancient wedding rituals in existence. It's scarcely practiced anymore,
but for over a thousand years it was the primary form of marriage all through
out Europe. While it wouldn't have been affective with Miranda and Hermione
separated, since the two of them merged into a single being it's the perfect
solution!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together once in excited appreciation.
"You gave me the idea for it earlier, Severus - the ritual is simple enough
to perform and as a Grand Wizard I have the authority. We need only rouse
a second witness - You don't mind being the primary witness, do you Poppy?"
The elder woman shook her head dazedly. "Splendid! Who shall we wake? I'm
sorry, my dear," he said to Hermione. "Neither Ron nor Harry have reached
the age of consent. A pity we didn't give them time-turners as well or you
could have one of them witness for you!"
Snape made a mental note to never jest about being engaged in front of Albus
Dumbledore EVER again. One sarcastic comment and the barmy old man was
ready to publish the bans. While he was technically right - the Sumpsuchos
ritual would solidify the Bond - it was also a legally binding form of
marriage that eternally united the souls of two people! He doubted very
highly that the woman next to him would enjoy being tied to his tattered
spirit for the rest of eternity. At least with their current situation it
was likely the bond would dissolve once all parties involved were post
mortem. How in the name of Merlin was he going to get them both out of
this before the Headmaster chucked them into the nuptial bed?
Hermione turned plaintively to the man next to her for support. In the
face of the Headmaster's enthusiasm for his idea, she had no doubt that
alone she would have had little hope of escaping his maneuvering. Feeling
the simmering indignation starting to filter through their link, she found
herself profoundly grateful to have Severus Snape for backup. It occurred
to her that in any prior context she would have been overwhelmed by the
strangeness of that thought but at the moment she could only find it comforting.
Professor Snape stood abruptly with a jerky motion. "In deference to your
position as Headmaster and out of courtesy for our years of friendship, I
will endeavor to pretend you did not just suggest that," he said stiffly.
"Sumpsuchos is not something to be taken lightly and it is not a ritual that
anyone should be forced into. Quite frankly, it is also not an option I am
willing to even consider in relation to one of my students." Rigidly, he
stalked to a bookcase on the other side of the room. Hermione felt a twinge
of pain from even that short distance and fought down a wince. Yanking a
heavy leather book from the shelves, he paged restlessly through it until
he found what he was looking for. He repressed a shiver as he stared at
the text. Given how well his existing one was working out, the last thing
in the world he wanted was another mystical tattoo. But in the face of the
alternative...
Stalking back to the congregation, he shoved the open volume at the Headmaster.
"Here," he snarled as he jabbed the page. "The Bridge of Ether should give
us enough control over the bond to ensure that Miss Granger doesn't expire
from separation anxiety the next time I have to venture into the Forbidden
Forrest for Lupin's wolfsbane."
He expected Albus to look deflated after having his idea so thoroughly
rejected, but instead he looked pleased. Severus' lips thinned as he realised
that once again the tricky old bastard had maneuvered him into making
exactly the decision he wanted. The Sumpsuchos suggestion was just to throw
him off and make the Bridge of Ether look palatable. Merlin knew, he would
never have considered anything requiring a magical tattoo otherwise.
"Are you certain you weren't in Slytherin?" He asked sourly as he sank back
down on the couch next to Hermione. The Headmaster ignored his question
with a smile.
"This is a brilliant idea, Severus. Do you have enough Ether on hand to meet
the potion's requirements?"
Leaning his head back against the sofa, he closed his eyes and with a
saturnine grimace mentally reviewed the contents of his storeroom, "Not
remotely. Ether is the base of the tincture; I'll need at least two bottles
more. And I'm completely out of powdered Orb of Thessulah." He raised his
head and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I should be able to pick
both up in Diagon Alley without difficulty."
It occurred to him that Miss Granger was being uncharacteristically silent.
Looking her way, it was readily apparent why. The young witch's head was
slumped against the sofa in exhaustion and her eyes had drifted closed. He
found her sudden resemblance to a worn-out toddler entertaining. Feeling his
amusement through the link, she lifted her head and blinked at him in sleepy incomprehension.
"It appears that further explanation will have to wait," he said with a
smirk. "Apparently it's past Miss Granger's bed time." At that Madame Pomfrey
stifled a yawn from her seat by the fire.
"I would say that it's so far past everyone's bed time that the house elves
will soon be serving breakfast. I think now would be an excellent time for
all of us to retire," the Headmaster said indulgently. Standing, he offered
Poppy a hand and helped her to her feet. "I will send a tray to your quarters
around 12:30 with lunch for the two of you, Severus - do try to at least
sleep until then. I trust you'll do your best to make Hermione comfortable."
The two people on the couch shared a startled glance at the realisation that
she would be staying in his quarters. It was one thing to have Poppy say they
needed to stick close to each other, but being faced with the reality of the
Headmaster and the Mediwitch walking out the door and leaving them alone
was another thing entirely. The older wizard took their silence as confirmation
and placed a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. "Don't look so
worried, Severus; I'm sure you and Hermione will be able to sort through
this mess without difficulty."
The potion master's head came up slowly. "We are in the presence of a student,
Headmaster. Wouldn't you say the continued familiarity of our first names
is a touch out of place?"
"I would say, Severus, that in light of this evening events the very least
the lady has earned is the right to call you by name," Albus replied
sardonically. "After all, she does know what you taste like."
The professor blanched and Hermione lowered her eyes to study her hands,
embarrassment at the reminder of her delirious declaration staining her
cheeks. Through their nebulous link she could feel the man next to her tamp
down his mortification and draw the tatter threads of his propriety around
him like a cloak.
"All the more reason to insist upon adhering to proper protocols," he said
stiffly.
Albus studied him thoughtfully with his familiar grin and then replied, "I
will of course leave it to you to specify how Hermione addresses you. But
you may find it difficult to maintain that distance with someone who can
answer the questions before you ask them."
"And what about that exactly would differ from my existing relationship
with Miss Granger?" He asked sourly.
"As you will, Severus." Albus answered with a chuckle as he released them.
"See me this evening after you finish your brewing. I still need your
official in depth report of last night's events and Poppy will need to
examine both of you to ensure the Bridge of Ether is sufficient for your
needs."
The Professor nodded and rose to see the pair out. Bidding the two a final
good night that was echoed by the woman on his couch, he closed the door
behind them and turned to lean back against it. His gaze was met by the dark
haired beauty in a half-dressed tangle with his favorite blanket on the
sofa. He had opened his mouth to demand the cover back when it occurred
to him that by now the fabric had no doubt absorbed enough of her scent
that laying in it would be uncomfortably analogous to being wrapped in her
arms for his sensitive nose. Having already had enough of that this evening
to haunt his dreams, he snapped his mouth shut. The young woman suddenly
squirmed uncomfortably and looked down at her hands with a blush. He cringed
suddenly as he realised he must have transmitted some of his thoughts to her unconsciously. Letting his head fall back against the door with a thud, he
scrubbed his hands tiredly over his face.
Would this night never end?
*~*~*~*~*
"Wake me up inside,
call my name and save me
from the dark.
Bid my blood to run,
before I come undone.
Save me from
the nothing I've become."
- Bring Me To Life, Daredevil Soundtrack/Fallen album, Evanescence
*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Notes:
1. Translations:
Sartor resartus (Latin) - The tailor patched.
Sumpsuchos (ancient Greek) - of one mind, at unity, united in soul
2. Kudos to everyone who caught the Buffy reference. With all this soul binding stuff, I just couldn't resist!
3. Madeleine Jete: When/why did I read Symposium? I blame it all on "The Butcher's Wife" - remember that sappy Demi Moore movie from the early nineties? They quoted the legend in the Symposium but said it came from a work of Plato's called "The Corruption." After much fruitless searching I found there is no work of his by that title. Took me a while to hunt down the correct piece, but there you have it! Plus I'm a big dork and enjoy classic Greco-Roman literature anyway. ;-)