Follow My Way
1- Adjusting to the Familiar

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Do you want me to make a daisy chain for you
I'm not the one you need
What do you want from me -"What Do You Want From Me" Pink Floyd
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Squinting in the sudden brightness of the waking world, Hermione Granger tensed and forced herself to keep her eyes closed. She was overly warm, she could feel the covers of the bed pulled up around her neck, and sweat developing at it's base, but she didn't move. Vaguely she was aware of noises around her: water dripping, boot heels on stone, murmuring voices and a humming. Keeping her breath even she could recognize the voices, both male, and make out what they were saying clearly.

"... it's going to be a shock to her when she awakes, the world will be inside out to her."
The first voice was even, speaking in soft tones that only Professor Dumbledore could produce. If Dumbledore was speaking she was at Hogwarts and instinctively the tension in her body eased a little. But how had she gotten here when she'd been so sure she'd be dead?

Her train of thought was broken by the second voice biting out a reply. "I'm hardly the most qualified person to help put the world back together for her, Headmaster. Professor McGonagall..."

Snape. There was only one person she knew of who could produce that much acid in normal conversation, though the content of the current conversation was still unknown to her. Reason pointed to the fact that they were discussing her and the circumstances in which she'd been brought to what she'd gathered was the Hospital Wing from the smell alone. How Madam Pomfrey managed to work in the stench of anti-septic and her array of potions was quite beyond her, the only place in the whole castle that had more of a distinct smell was the dungeons. Smiling a little to herself she imagined she wouldn't be quite so calm if her nose had identified her location as there. Also, the light would have tipped her off that she wasn't there.

"She's no longer a student Severus, surely you can put the House business aside and see her as an ally to our cause instead of seeing a Gryffindor." There was humor in the headmaster's voice and she could almost see the sneer that Snape would he wearing at the proposal. A note of amusement entered Dumbledore's voice when he spoke. "Though she's showing some usual Slytherin like tendencies by eavesdropping on us."

Opening her eyes fully she suppressed a laugh as Dumbledore's smile was overshadowed by the sneer she had predicted. The Headmaster stood closest to her next to the bed, his rich robes of crimson were a comforting sight putting her in mind of the Gryffindor common room while his dancing blue eyes put her completely at ease. Bestowing a benevolent smile on Snape, the Headmaster took a seat with little ceremony and grinned as Snape opted to stand still as a statue at the end of the bed.

Turning his attentions back to Hermione, he spoke gently knowing what he had to tell her was going to be hard. "Miss Granger, we were very fortunate to find you when we did. Being unconscious is not the ideal state to be in within the bounds of the forest. "

That sent her mind working, recalling with jarring accuracy what had happened the night before and the implications. "Arabella... They killed her..."

Raising his hand slightly for silence, Dumbledore frowned slightly, his expression suddenly grim. "Her body was indeed recovered from the site of the attack, her death is another point of great sadness in this time. Nothing else was recovered from the site, though the remains of those who had pursued you have been sent to the Ministry in testament to the circumstance of Arabella's death. Unfortunately the nature of their demise left little possibility for identification."

"D-demise?" Horrified, she looked down at her hands. Of course they were dead, her mind mocked her, or they would have found her dead, instead of unconscious. If they had found her at all. Setting her eyes on the stone of the rooms' walls her mind started clicking things into place, considering all that had been said. "There must be some method of identification; even Muggles can ID skeletons or bodies without fingerprints or dental records."

"Be that as it may, Ms. Granger," Snapes voice was as silky and taunting as she remembered it. Glancing up, she saw that his eyes were just as cold. He hadn't changed since she'd seen him last, he was still as tall, dark and greasy as ever. Unfortunately he also still possessed the ability to make her feel like a very stupid child. "I would like to see how they would identify the remains of an individual who's flesh had not only been seared off but whose skull had been fused with metal."

Taking in what she had been told, Hermione tried to focus her eyes on something other than Snapes unreadable face with poor results. Running her shaking hands over her face she tried to rub the blurriness from her eyes. The room around her kept unfocusing, and somewhere she could hear water running. Not running, thundering she realized, grasping her hands over her ears. "What is that horrible noise, where is there water running? I can't tune it out..."

Looking up into the frowning face of the Headmaster and then at the shock on her former Professors', she tentatively moved her hands from her ears trying to focus on the sound that seemed to encompass her hearing. "What is it?", she asked weakly, finding no answers and looking miserable at the failings of her ears.

Looking kindly at her Dumbledore let his eyes stray to the deep frown of the Potions Master before speaking. His voice had the effect of being both captivating and lulling at the same time. "That sound is not something to worry about, on the contrary it's a common noise no louder than it ever is."

Hermione sat straighter in the bed, looking horrified and lost. She looked younger as her lip trembled while she spoke. "Nothing to worry about? It sounds as if we're going to be crashed into by a tidal wave."

"We're not threatened often by tidal waves in this part of Scotland, I'd have thought you'd be bright enough to have reasoned it out better than that." Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, Snape regarded her for a moment before motioning to one of the small, high windows in the room. Through the window she could see the milky mass that was the sky, though her traitorous eyes wouldn't reveal more. " Your worry is for naught as it is only raining."

"What's wrong with me?" she whispered in a small voice as her eyes focused again and she could see the rain clearly. Suddenly she was very cold and a sick feeling rose from the pit of her stomach. Her body was betraying her as her eyes unfocused again, this time from tears. At the end of the bed Snape looked from the shaking girl who'd gone from alarmingly pale to alarmingly flushed in an instant to the headmaster who merely looked back with a serene expression.

Dumbledore cleared his throat softly, and handed Hermione a white handkerchief he pulled from his robes. Waiting for the girl to compose herself the Headmaster spoke, smoothing the mass of his white beard. "There is nothing wrong with you, my dear. What is happening to you is merely the after effects of a source of magic you came upon by the event of Mrs. Figg's death."

"You will recover, you're body will be adapting to the new power that is within you and you are young and will be able to take in your stride." Smilingly encouragingly he turned his gaze to Snape. " It is a stroke of luck that there is someone on hand who has had a similar experience to the one you are undergoing now. Professor Snape will be able to help you through this, as I myself will be indisposed for quite awhile. If you will excuse me."

Patting her hand affectionately, Dumbledore walked from the room leaving the now sniffling Hermione with the scowling Potions Master. He was regarding her with a closed expression, his dark eyes looking through her as they often did when explaining potion ingredients or the uses of his art to particularly dismal students. Hermione showed no sign of aknowledging to the frowning man as he began to pace at the end of her bed.

/The world had a way of getting more complicated when you least expect it/, Snape realized and not for the first time. He was unprepared for this particular turn he realized with some distaste as he searched carefully for what to say to the now silent girl in the bed. He had never expected to have to see the blasted Granger girl again since her departure after graduation along side Weasley and Potter. Yet here she was, waiting for him to speak, to explain the most complicated and painful thing he knew.

Stopping his pacing, he folded himself rigidly into the sole chair in the room and assessed the girls pale features. She was adjusting to the foreign magic well, though she'd do well to relax and accept the changes. Her senses were hyper sensitive, her irritation about the barely audible sound of the rain was testament to that. She'd grown up since she'd been a student here, he noted, her incredible thinness attesting to her chosen profession of research under Arabella and her constant travel. She had the look of someone who rarely saw daylight, a condition he was an expert on.

"This has something to do with what Arabella told me before she died." Hermione's soft voice shook him out of his thoughts. She was looking at him now, her clear brown eyes were still tinged with red from crying.

Her words brought a small twist to his lips, she was adapting well enough to let her mind work sense into whatever it could grasp. At times her mind amazed him, though he'd never of admitted it when she was amongst the rabble of students. He waited a moment before answering, a long standing habit that gave him her attention, and an advantage over the conversation.

"You won't be able to recall exactly what she told you unless your senses are in a state of frenzy or tension that would pertain to your demise," he said levelly. "The words she spoke to you have one goal and that is self preservation. They will only leave you if you are dying or under torture or influence your body can not bear."

Hermione's brow creased slightly, her mind working what he said into what she already knew. What Arabella had said to her had been a rush of sounds, disjointed sounds at that. Yet somehow what the older woman had said was causing her senses to sharpen and her head to ache. Snape was right, she couldn't remember what she'd been told. It was eluding her when it should have been clear in her mind.

"As I said you can't quite grasp what you heard, that's the nature of the words Ms. Granger." Snape continued, a sharp edge on his words. "They are words unlike you've heard before, though your ignorance about their existence is due purely to being muggle-born."

She tensed at his words, though her dark glare was diminished by the way she bit her lip in worry. A nervous habit, it would have been more endearing if it hadn't been accompanied by childish anger. Severus Snape had no room for childish emotions in this conversation, and said so with a sneer. "There is no reason for you to be offended, your birth circumstances are true and my approval is not necessary. You are ignorant of important information and the task of explanation has fallen to me."

"I expect you to be attentive to what I have to say and leave emotion out of this." He finished with his usual flourish and finality, leaving the girl with no other option than to grudgingly nod in response.

"I'm sorry Professor," she whispered, her voice wavering slightly as she grasped the blankets pooled in her lap. She was struggling to focus and stay awake under the assault of her body, the tension in her body and tone of her voice gave her away. Stubborn girl, too young to know what was good for her.

"There is no need to apologize," he drawled almost carelessly, knowing that she was tired and more sorry for his reaction than for her words. "I will be able to tell you what you need to know about what is happening to you, but now is not the time. You are not up to the length of time this conversation will take and your senses have not yet adapted."

Giving into the demands of her weakened body she lay back into the starched sheets of the bed and watched Snape rise from his chair to regard her once more through unreadable dark eyes. "When Madam Pomfrey has deemed you well enough we will speak of this again. Rest, you're safe here."

With that cryptic remark he nodded to her slightly and strode from the hospital wing in a flurry of black robes and without a sound. Hermione watched his departure with a mixture of relief, anger, and worry. The man infuriated her, had in fact been doing so for as long as she had known him. Pulling the heavy coverlet up around her shoulders, she closed her traitorous eyes and tried to relax. His attitude toward her wasn't the important thing, she had to remember, what he had to say was.

Even though what Snape had said hadn't explained much, it had planted the ideas for her mind to work its way around. The words she'd been given by Arabella were obviously to blame for her sensory overload, her sense of unease and her ability to sense things around her. The words themselves had to be magic boosters, or even an outside source of magic that complemented her innate ability. Her body's reaction was something that she was going to have to wait out, though. No amount of reasoning was going to ease her discomfort.

Pulling the covers up over her head did nothing to block out the sounds that were no longer deafening, but raising up and down in volume, nor did it block the image of the room she could see in her mind though her eyes were closed. She kept her breathing even and focused her mind on relaxing. She was safe at Hogwarts and that comforted her. Somehow Snape had known that it would have that effect when he'd said it, she realized as her exhaustion began to pull her into sleep.

Curious.


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Authors Note: Gold star, a million thanks and eternal love to Zebee for stepping up to the challange of getting my grammer-challenged self into line. You rock.

As for the story... more explanations in the next chapter. Hermione needed her rest.

-Dee