Only in my dreams do I own Harry Potter, now that that's out of the way on with the story.
The next time Hermione rose to the surface of her dreams she heard two very familiar voices disturbing her sleep. She shifted and wondered why they sounded so upset. Still disinclined to open her eyes she opted to listen now and decide what to do later.
"But you've got to let us see her!" Harry and Ron said pleadingly to Madame Pomfrey.
"No boys, she's still resting and I do not want her to be disturbed." Poppy said in a stern and very final voice. "Once she has awakened and the Headmaster allows it you may visit her, but not before then." She looked at the two young men trying to gain admittance and her voice softened. "She needs her rest gentlemen, I'm sure you will see her later. Now goodbye." She escorted them outside the Medical wing and shut the door firmly behind them.
"Now what?" Ron whined to Harry as they headed back to their dormitory. "Dumbledore won't talk to us until Hermione can be there and no-one is telling us what happened to her. I know Mum spoke to Dumbledore about her, but every time I ask her what's going on she starts crying." Ron's frustration and confusion was written all over his face when Harry looked over at him.
"I'm worried about her too Ron." Harry said "but honestly she'll be fine, it's probably some girl thing. I'm more worried about why the headmaster sent for you and Mione." Unspoken was the end of his sentence * and not me*. He was surprised at not being summoned himself. Without realizing it, he had unconsciously taken for granted that he was the important one, and was annoyed that there was something happening that involved his friends and not him.
They reached the painting that guarded their common room and asked her to let them in. In the summer they didn't need passwords to open the painting. They climbed in and immediately went to their favorite squashy armchairs in front of the fire. It only took five minutes of sitting quietly and pretending be fascinated by the flickering flames from the fire to become utterly bored. As one they turned to each other and said "Quidditch?" they laughed and went to retrieve their brooms putting their worry for Hermione out of their minds for now.
Snape was pacing the open space in his secret room fighting the worry he was feeling. Ever since he had begun his painting of Hermione it had called to him to finish and he had spent far more time in this room than he had needed to before. This painting was a demon riding him, filling him with emotion he did not want. He did not want to pity her, did not want to care for her at all but he did. He could not stand the idea of a child being abused and the sight of his brightest pupil broken and bloody had sickened him. The information that it had most likely been her father to do this enraged him and charged his memory with things he had tried to forget. He slowed then stopped in front of his painting assessing his progress. He had surrounded her in darkness, her body vanishing into the shadows and concentrated on her face, on the peace and trust shining in her eyes. The light from her face was the only illumination the painting would have; it glowed like her spirit was trapped there. He looked at the painting slowing his breaths and calming his mind until he was ready to leave the peace of his sanctuary and resume his duties.
Hermione lay quiet in her bed, waiting for the person moving around the room to leave before opening her eyes. She was quite curious as to where she was, she knew she wasn't at her parent's house, and this place didn't smell like a hospital. Finally it was quiet and she opened her eyes. She was looking up at the ceiling and the familiar crack that ran just above her head. She sat up abruptly knowing where she was. Hogwarts. But…how did she get here? She had dreamed that Professor Snape had been to house and taken her, but that had to have been a dream. Why would Snape of all people go to her house? If that was real, that meant that "oh gods!" Hermione gasped doubling over, she remembered it all. "Mommy" she whispered forcing the word through the knot in her throat just before starting to cry wrenching sobs that shook her frail body.
Madam Pomfrey found her curled in the center of her narrow bed crying like he heart had been torn out. Her own heart was breaking at the sight of the suffering child. Quickly she sent 2 notes through the floo to the men most concerned with her poor charge, then walked over to Hermione and enveloped her in a rare hug.
Hermione held onto Madam Pomfrey like she was the only solid thing in her world and cried against her shoulders for what seemed like hours until she was cried out. She pulled back her eyes aching and her face puffy, looked at Poppy "thank you" she said before lying down and facing the wall.
Poppy went over to her supply cupboard and returned with a steaming mug of hot chocolate she laced with calming potion. "Drink this child" she said offering the mug. "The headmaster will want to speak with you soon." She watched Hermione drink every drop before she left her to complete the task she had abandoned. "If you need me call." She said kindly. Hermione did not answer but gave a small smile as she watched her leave the room.
A/N: that's it for this chapter. I can't begin to say how much I appreciate those of you that have reviewed me, I value your opinions and I just love reading them. Also I need to thank my sidekick the Girl Blonder, who checks things before I send them out to you people. I hope you enjoy.