Disclaimer: JK Rowing owns these people along with various publishers
including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no
copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's note- This story is a continuation of 'The Garden', and though you might be able to keep up without reading that first, it will be easier to follow if you have. For those who have been waiting for this story, I warn you, the darkness of the garden does not carry into this tale... much. Fans of linear story-telling will be exasperated with me, and to make matters worse this is being posted as a work-in-progress. Eight chapters are written, and I will do my best to post once a week. Some *spoilers* may occur. Adult themes likely to occur, a HG/SS fic. So we begin, nearly where we left off...
Secrets held and secrets saved, Secrets delved by lovers brave.
Secrets kept and secrets shared, Secrets stroked with lovers' care.
Secrets etched cross lovers face, Secrets spilled in loves embrace.
Tiny frightened secrets deep, Lovers shared will secrets keep...
~~~@@@~~~
Infirmary
Poppy Pomfrey opened the door to a small room in her infirmary quietly. A familiar sight greeted her. Her patient these last few weeks, Severus Snape, lay sleeping on the small bed. He was dressed in carefully pressed black pyjamas. His black hair was groomed and smoothed close to his pale face. Pulled close to his bed was a worn, overstuffed armchair, upon which Hermione Granger was seated. She was asleep, her knees pulled up to her chest, one arm curled around her bare ankles, her other arm draped over the side of the chair, her fingertips resting on his arm.
As often as Poppy had seen this tableau, however, it never failed to amaze her. Not that Hermione was there; she had been there every day for the three weeks he'd been in Poppy's care at Hogwarts. Before that, she had haunted his bedside at St. Mungo's hospital. When their research into his failure to wake up yielded no answers, it was decided that he be moved here, and Poppy had firmly agreed that he would want just that. No, what amazed her was the woman's appearance.
You see, Miss Granger had been a bushy-haired brunette possessed of lovely brown eyes and peach coloured skin during her years at school. The young woman now curled in the bedside chair had raven hair that hung in sleek waves, ending in perfect curls at her waist. It now covered part of her face, but showed enough of her creamy white skin to notice the difference. And when she awoke, looking up as the mediwitch covered her in a light blanket, she opened wide jet-black eyes.
"Now Miss Hermione, it won't help any catching a chill. If you won't go back to your room to sleep, at least remember to ask me for a blanket," Poppy admonished her. "Care to join me for a little late-supper then?"
"That sounds lovely, Poppy. Just give me a moment, please," she replied. Yawning a bit, she stretched out her legs before turning to the still face of the man on the bed. "Severus, I'll only be gone a short while. We'll be right in the other room, if you need anything," she said in an even voice, touching his arm gently as she spoke. The fact that he had been in this coma for nearly two months seemed not to deter her in the least, and she spoke to him exactly as if he were wide-awake.
When they reached the outer room, Hermione found not only a table loaded with sandwiches and pumpkin juice, but Albus Dumbledore and Minerva Mcgonagall already sitting at it. "Ah Miss Granger, so glad you could join us tonight," he beamed, throwing Poppy a wink. "And how is our patient?" he asked as she seated herself across from him.
"The same, sir. He does seem to be stubborn, doesn't he?" she answered. Once or twice a day he asked this same question, never once betraying his growing concern. The young man was quite important to Dumbledore, and the longer he remained asleep, the more Albus feared he might not wake again.
~~~~~
Albus had been involved in the research into the spell that had caused
all of this. The protection spell, apparently drawing on both
Hermione's and Severus' magic, had saved both their lives but at great
cost. He had barely survived, and had not spoken or opened his eyes
since a few hours after their rescue. She had fared better physically,
the charm healing nearly all her wounds and restoring her health. But
she refused to leave his side. She had taken on some of his
personality traits, along with the obvious physical ones. Her mind
seemed whole, but her spirit seemed to fade whenever she was removed
from him for more than a few hours.
Dumbledore had been there the first time she had tried. After a week
in St. Mungo's without change, she had been convinced to help the
wizards charged with trying to figure out just what had happened and
how to fix things. It required that she spend a few nights away from
the hospital. When she returned, she was distraught, shaky and quite
fierce looking. The headmaster had never seen her look quite so...
dangerous. It seemed that whatever had bound them during the spell
remained securely in place.
It was then that she confessed the link they had shared during those
few days in the dungeon. She broke down in his lap and cried until she
fell asleep. When she awoke, he suggested they come back to the castle
with him, and that when she felt more up to it she could explain just
how deep the legilamency had gone. She left out some of the more
private moments, and all the details, but eventually Albus got the
idea of what had happened. And that is exactly what concerned him so.
~~~~~~
He was startled back to the supper at hand by Professor McGonagall's second attempt to tell him, "I said George Weasley will be joining us tomorrow, Albus. For a few days it seems. Having a birthday party, or some such thing, in Hogsmeade."
"Splendid, Hermione, you will be attending, I trust? I'm sure a few hours, and its close enough... perhaps its time you got out a bit, had a laugh or two," he asked her, without a hint of question in his voice. It was clear he meant this as an order, he considered her to be a patient here, even if Poppy protested this fact.
"I was already planning to, Prof... er, Albus," she corrected herself. Try as she might, she couldn't get used to calling her former headmaster by his given name. "George assures me that should I refuse, he and Fred will drag me out in scandalous fashion." She tried her best to sound exasperated at this, but couldn't help being amused.
Her friends had tried their best to support her in the last two months, but only Fred and George were truly comfortable in her presence, despite Fred's annoying tendency to call her 'Snape' at every opportunity. Fact was, George was her saving grace, drawing her out of her role as bedside guardian and into some semblance of normal life again. He was guilt ridden over her capture at first. But he overcame it due in no small part to the shock of finding her that night, looking very much like the angel that Snape was convinced she was. During her stay at Hogwarts he had visited for a few days every week, becoming her constant companion whenever he did. She found herself looking forward to the party.
Author's note- This story is a continuation of 'The Garden', and though you might be able to keep up without reading that first, it will be easier to follow if you have. For those who have been waiting for this story, I warn you, the darkness of the garden does not carry into this tale... much. Fans of linear story-telling will be exasperated with me, and to make matters worse this is being posted as a work-in-progress. Eight chapters are written, and I will do my best to post once a week. Some *spoilers* may occur. Adult themes likely to occur, a HG/SS fic. So we begin, nearly where we left off...
Secrets held and secrets saved, Secrets delved by lovers brave.
Secrets kept and secrets shared, Secrets stroked with lovers' care.
Secrets etched cross lovers face, Secrets spilled in loves embrace.
Tiny frightened secrets deep, Lovers shared will secrets keep...
~~~@@@~~~
Infirmary
Poppy Pomfrey opened the door to a small room in her infirmary quietly. A familiar sight greeted her. Her patient these last few weeks, Severus Snape, lay sleeping on the small bed. He was dressed in carefully pressed black pyjamas. His black hair was groomed and smoothed close to his pale face. Pulled close to his bed was a worn, overstuffed armchair, upon which Hermione Granger was seated. She was asleep, her knees pulled up to her chest, one arm curled around her bare ankles, her other arm draped over the side of the chair, her fingertips resting on his arm.
As often as Poppy had seen this tableau, however, it never failed to amaze her. Not that Hermione was there; she had been there every day for the three weeks he'd been in Poppy's care at Hogwarts. Before that, she had haunted his bedside at St. Mungo's hospital. When their research into his failure to wake up yielded no answers, it was decided that he be moved here, and Poppy had firmly agreed that he would want just that. No, what amazed her was the woman's appearance.
You see, Miss Granger had been a bushy-haired brunette possessed of lovely brown eyes and peach coloured skin during her years at school. The young woman now curled in the bedside chair had raven hair that hung in sleek waves, ending in perfect curls at her waist. It now covered part of her face, but showed enough of her creamy white skin to notice the difference. And when she awoke, looking up as the mediwitch covered her in a light blanket, she opened wide jet-black eyes.
"Now Miss Hermione, it won't help any catching a chill. If you won't go back to your room to sleep, at least remember to ask me for a blanket," Poppy admonished her. "Care to join me for a little late-supper then?"
"That sounds lovely, Poppy. Just give me a moment, please," she replied. Yawning a bit, she stretched out her legs before turning to the still face of the man on the bed. "Severus, I'll only be gone a short while. We'll be right in the other room, if you need anything," she said in an even voice, touching his arm gently as she spoke. The fact that he had been in this coma for nearly two months seemed not to deter her in the least, and she spoke to him exactly as if he were wide-awake.
When they reached the outer room, Hermione found not only a table loaded with sandwiches and pumpkin juice, but Albus Dumbledore and Minerva Mcgonagall already sitting at it. "Ah Miss Granger, so glad you could join us tonight," he beamed, throwing Poppy a wink. "And how is our patient?" he asked as she seated herself across from him.
"The same, sir. He does seem to be stubborn, doesn't he?" she answered. Once or twice a day he asked this same question, never once betraying his growing concern. The young man was quite important to Dumbledore, and the longer he remained asleep, the more Albus feared he might not wake again.
~~~~~
Albus had been involved in the research into the spell that had caused
all of this. The protection spell, apparently drawing on both
Hermione's and Severus' magic, had saved both their lives but at great
cost. He had barely survived, and had not spoken or opened his eyes
since a few hours after their rescue. She had fared better physically,
the charm healing nearly all her wounds and restoring her health. But
she refused to leave his side. She had taken on some of his
personality traits, along with the obvious physical ones. Her mind
seemed whole, but her spirit seemed to fade whenever she was removed
from him for more than a few hours.
Dumbledore had been there the first time she had tried. After a week
in St. Mungo's without change, she had been convinced to help the
wizards charged with trying to figure out just what had happened and
how to fix things. It required that she spend a few nights away from
the hospital. When she returned, she was distraught, shaky and quite
fierce looking. The headmaster had never seen her look quite so...
dangerous. It seemed that whatever had bound them during the spell
remained securely in place.
It was then that she confessed the link they had shared during those
few days in the dungeon. She broke down in his lap and cried until she
fell asleep. When she awoke, he suggested they come back to the castle
with him, and that when she felt more up to it she could explain just
how deep the legilamency had gone. She left out some of the more
private moments, and all the details, but eventually Albus got the
idea of what had happened. And that is exactly what concerned him so.
~~~~~~
He was startled back to the supper at hand by Professor McGonagall's second attempt to tell him, "I said George Weasley will be joining us tomorrow, Albus. For a few days it seems. Having a birthday party, or some such thing, in Hogsmeade."
"Splendid, Hermione, you will be attending, I trust? I'm sure a few hours, and its close enough... perhaps its time you got out a bit, had a laugh or two," he asked her, without a hint of question in his voice. It was clear he meant this as an order, he considered her to be a patient here, even if Poppy protested this fact.
"I was already planning to, Prof... er, Albus," she corrected herself. Try as she might, she couldn't get used to calling her former headmaster by his given name. "George assures me that should I refuse, he and Fred will drag me out in scandalous fashion." She tried her best to sound exasperated at this, but couldn't help being amused.
Her friends had tried their best to support her in the last two months, but only Fred and George were truly comfortable in her presence, despite Fred's annoying tendency to call her 'Snape' at every opportunity. Fact was, George was her saving grace, drawing her out of her role as bedside guardian and into some semblance of normal life again. He was guilt ridden over her capture at first. But he overcame it due in no small part to the shock of finding her that night, looking very much like the angel that Snape was convinced she was. During her stay at Hogwarts he had visited for a few days every week, becoming her constant companion whenever he did. She found herself looking forward to the party.