A/N: I have to extend my extreme gratitude to my beta, Elyse, who has been a big help to me as always. Thank you!!!
Ezmerelda: I owe you an apology and a huge thank you, for it was your comment on a review for another story of mine that gave me the idea for the last of Minerva's dialogue on the last chapter. I should have mentioned that in an A/N at the end of the chapter, and I apologize for that. Thank you for unknowingly helping.
Chapter 5: Welcome to Severusville
Life proceeded poorly over the weeks that followed that night. Both parties reverted back to the avoidant behavior exercised prior to the time they were imprisoned. However, this time was for different reasons. From what I knew of their personalities, I concluded fear rather than hostility motivated the decision. Fear of rejection and fear of the unknown. Two things difficult for most people to face.
Fear was not an option but magic was. With the possibility of mission failure on the horizon, I was not going to dismiss my perfected craft as an aid. The potion I had in mind was an old family secret and would easily expose me if administered to Severus. The only door that wasn't locked was Gryffindor's best and brightest.
Getting her to ingest it was a cinch. A lunch with Minerva, a cup of tea, and the wait until she was conquered by her subconscious that evening was all it took. The unsuspecting make easy prey.
The Dreamwalker Potion is a potion that was first created by my great-great-great-great grandmother. In a time of war, she was desperate to confirm the safety of her husband. By taking the lock of his hair she kept in a locket and a vial of his blood from his storage closet, she brewed a way into his mind. It allowed her to stroll discreetly though his dreams whenever they were both unconscious. The next generation Dreamwalker Potion gives access to memories and thoughts in addition to dreams.
Waiting in her rooms, I had time to curl up for a catnap before she returned from the library. As she readied herself for bed, I headed over to make sure the sedative I had dropped into Severus's coffee was doing its job. With all elements in place, I rejoined Miss Granger in her bedroom.
After I sipped the dose I had stashed under her bed, sleep overtook me swiftly and I found myself in the dark, eerie realm of Severusville. It was not what you would call inviting, with its consuming fog, impermeable blackness, and hair-raising silence. I had to find Miss Granger before she became lost and confused until she could awaken in the morning. It's quite terrifying to be without an experienced guide when using the Dreamwalker Potion.
I stumbled upon her quickly as she wandered aimlessly though the desolate plane, not that she could go very far anyway.
"Welcome, Miss Granger, I feel relieved to know you had little difficulty falling asleep."
"Who's there?" she asked, alarmed, stopping to search for the source.
"I would be what just brushed against your left leg."
Now that was an attention getter. Her response was immediate, jerking back to examine the area she had occupied seconds before. Invisible beneath the dense mist, I was compelled to unveil myself by leaping into her arms.
"Raven?!"
With her heart beating erratically against her chest, she struggled to keep from dropping me. When I was safely in the crook of her arm, she looked at me skeptically, as though she doubted what her ears had really perceived.
"Correct, Miss Granger, though neither I nor the circumstance under which this occurs are as important as what you will observe and hear. Your senses are not deceiving you, and your sanity has not abandoned you. In a manner of speaking, you are truly here with me."
"Where is here, exactly?"
"The center of Severus Snape's mind," I answered casually.
"I beg your pardon?"
"At lunch today, you ingested the Dreamwalker potion, which had been added to your tea. It is a centuries-old family recipe that has been passed from one generation to the next, and that has been kept a closely-guarded secret since its first brewing."
"Why?"
Ah, the Miss-Know-It-All side of Miss Granger's intellect was showing itself, bringing to mind Minerva's description of an eleven-year old Hermione waving her hand in the air during class. I smiled to myself--as much as cat can smile, anyway.
"The possibility for its misuse is too great for the general public to learn of it. Once in the body, the potion has absolutely no effect until the subject falls asleep. Instead of sinking into his own dream state, the drinker's consciousness is sent forth undetected into the mind of the intended target, both individuals must be unconscious for the drinker to enter the other's mind, because there are fewer defenses to bypass when one is asleep. If the target isn't asleep, the drinker is forced into an unpleasant limbo. Inside the target, the thoughts, memories, and dreams of that person can be accessed until the morning's light."
Hermione pondered this information silently for a moment, then spoke again.
"You answered how and where, but now arises the question of why, what, and who." Cradling my ribcage, she lifted me higher, attempting to intimidate answers out of me. Fat chance of that happening. "Why are you and I here? And who or what are you really?"
"A history lesson is our purpose here. To comprehend the present, you must be acquainted with the past. As for my identity, it will remain vague. All you need to know is that I have your best interests in mind. Now pay attention."
My focus left her and was redirected to the emptiness that surrounded us. Suddenly, the void came to life with random images and indistinguishable sounds. Filtering through Severus's mental library, Miss Granger stood unusually quiet and allowed me to concentrate. She kept her mouth shut and ears and eyes open.
Finding the specific memory I desired, I brought it into full view and banished the others back into the dark recesses from which they came. We became background shadows of the memory, ghostly observers to it all.
"What is it?" she asked, awed.
"A memory. Snape's initiation into the Death Eaters."
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Under the light of the full moon, a circle of dark robed and masked figures encompassed a pale teenager kneeling in front of one of the group's members. Voldemort pulled Severus from his knees and ordered him to raise his sleeve. An agonizing cry escaped the boy's lips as the words that branded the Dark Mark onto his servants were spoken. As the skin grew red with irritation, a black symbol grew conspicuous on the sallow flesh.
"Does that feel good, Severus?" Voldemort asked, amused.
"Yes, Master."
Casting the Cruciatus Curse, Voldemort reveled in watching Severus withering in pain. He learned from his last mistake and made no noise.
"Pity. I enjoyed hearing you scream. Since you wish to deprive me of my pleasure, remove yourself from my sight." Severus came to his feet with haste and replaced his mask before moving to join the circle. "My devoted Death Eaters, you have witnessed the addition of yet another into our ranks and he will not be the last. Soon we will not have to hide in the darkness of night. Soon all that oppose us will be groveling for mercy."
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The memory faded into the nothingness before she could view the horrors that followed. She remained silent and starred out into the now empty space. I could only assume she was still absorbing what she had observed. Her eyes finally drifted to meet mine as she spoke.
"Why? Why did he join?" she asked sadly.
"A question that only he could answer sufficiently, but I can assume for acceptance. He was never the most popular person. With peer pressure from fellow Slytherins, he fell into a group that he believed would accept him as he was. Acceptance had a hefty price, a piece of himself."
Taking her lack of further inquisition as satisfaction, I retrieved another memory I had kept close at hand.
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Forged from its masters' evil will and fueled by their power, the fiery demon left only crumbling remnants in its wake. Its gray and suffocating breath floated away from the scene and sent the wise into hiding. The black-clad forms for which it served only laughed in amusement at the destruction of the ancestral home and the torment of its former residents.
The sadistic nature of the Death Eaters was a manifestation of their perverse inner selves. A perverseness that the three family members were becoming too acquainted with. Two of them were just entertainment for the lower level Death Eaters, but the third was more valuable.
The Death Eater nobility isolated me from my parents, pushing me to my knees. The towering shapes gathered before me in an arc with wands at their sides. Only one dared to step out of formation.
"Well, well, I must say that the privilege is all mine, Aranea Snape," Voldemort said wryly. "You are quite the elusive witch. Without assistance, I may never have been able to discreetly gain access to you."
He circled me like a predator, demonstrating that he had the control. I chose not to cowardly downcast my eyes as some might and followed his movements with an unwavering gaze.
"It would be tragic to be deprived of your notorious presence, Riddle," I replied bitterly.
"I don't tolerate insolence from anyone, not even my own followers. If not for my need of your skills, you would be cold and stiff already, but as it stands I shall just have to use gentle persuasion to teach you obedience and respect."
Nerve shattering pain rippled through my body with each curse, but I would not scream nor plead for mercy. My refused submission only led to the curses coming in more rapid succession. As he realized that the torture was pointless, Voldemort chose a new tactic.
Momentarily abandoning me, he pointed at one of his minions and motioned for the figure to step forward. With mask removed, my brother lacked the courage to look me in the eye, but Voldemort appeared only to interpret it as an expected sign of respect.
"I do enjoy family reunions, particularly when they meet under such miserable circumstances," Voldemort commented gleefully, turning back to me. "I had anticipated a more appalled reaction from you for this revelation, but you seem to be as indifferent as Severus. There is hope for you yet. Severus, demonstrate her the Death Eater way, my way."
Severus's normally inscrutable eyes weighed heavy with sorrow and guilt of his actions yet to come as they ventured to connect with mine. My own were simply expressionless, denying both the privilege of knowing my inner turmoil. With obvious resignation, the first syllable of the Cruciatus Curse was purged from his lips.
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Old wounds had been reawaked with the memory's progression, and I held no desire to experience the finale from a new perspective. A still image of Severus's face came into focus one final time before it slowly dissolved, burning it painfully into my mind and probably Miss Granger's.
"Miss Granger?" I questioned, concerned.
"What happened? You can't expect me to be assuaged with that."
"I don't, but time does not favor us," I responded, using shortage of time as an excuse rather than the truth. "Dumbledore being Dumbledore arrived soon there after with a horde of fellow Order members, surrounding the Death Eaters. In a panic, they Apparated to avoid capture. Aranea Snape was the luckiest of the three attacked. Her parents were both found dead of heart attacks."
"But many things are still unanswered."
"Such as?"
"Severus's relation to my college professor?"
"Sister."
"Isn't she too old to be his sister? She has to be Minerva's age."
"You're thinking like a Muggle, Miss Granger," I countered indignantly. "Wizarding lifespans are not the only thing that exceeds that of Muggles. Procreation can occur well into the triple digits."
"What about Voldemort's motives behind seeking her out? And why would he need assistance finding her? Doesn't she have a residence outside of Oxford?"
"His motives were for her skills as you heard, but as for the exact use of them, that remains a mystery. The Snape Manor is cloaked, like Hogwarts, in a veil of invisibility charms, making it detectable only by those that know the passwords. Having been a resident there, Severus would have the knowledge needed to get there."
"Severus led them there knowing what could happen?"
"Yes," I confirmed solemnly. "He was unwilling to admit that the group he had staked so much faith held only empty promises and cared nothing for him. Consequently, he maintained the delusion until it was too late. It took the death of his parents and near death of his sister for him to come to grips with reality. I offer no justification or rationalization for his actions, only that remorse has dominated his existence in the years since. His redemption began that night when he sought out Dumbledore. "
I could empathize with what she was feeling, if her expression could be relied upon. A helplessness had consumed me when I saw these memories for the first time. A futile yearning to rectify the asinine decisions and prevent the tribulation that ensued. A yen that was the bane of Severus's daily existence.
But there was more to gain from this journey into the days passed than insight into Severus. Presuming Miss Granger possessed the intellectual capacity I suspected, I hoped she would see the similarities between the position of a young Severus and herself. In other words, Severus made his decision to join Voldemort out of fear and it had ghastly ramifications. Would Miss Granger allow fear to be an influential factor in her decision with Severus? Would she learn from his mistakes, or choose to make her own?
"Until tomorrow, Miss Granger," I offered just as the sun dissolved the magic of the potion, returning us to our bodies.
A/N: Thoughts, comments, criticism? Reviews--positive or negative-- are welcome.