A/N: Once again, many thanks to magicmare87…go read her stuff if you like Snape/Hermione, it's lovely. So…this fic is rapidly drawing to its projected close…if I do continue it, it'll be a bit slower because I'm not clear on where I'd go with it. The other option is another story that fills the gap between this and my other story. I'm also considering a sequel to 'If Life Were Normal What Would We Do for Fun?'
Yes? No? Never put pen to paper again except to sign the welfare checks?
Feedback, s'il vous plait!
--Aimes
Poppy Pomfrey and Molly Weasley turned to glare at the trio.
"Severus Snape! I cannot believe you were so irresponsible!" Snape held up a hand, silencing Pomfrey.
"She needed this, Poppy. I leave you to your work," he said firmly and left. Remus retreated as well, shooting Hermione a sheepish grin in response to her glare. She turned back to Molly and Pomfrey and sighed as they advanced.
Two hours later Hermione limped up to her room and collapsed on her bed. Ooof, cured of my disease, I died of my physician. She pulled out her journal and began to write, popping in the Verdi disc, and humming along to the familiar choral pieces. Three hours later, she was asleep, pen and journal on her bedside desk and Verdi cd stuck on infinite replay.
Hermione took the stage in her dream and looked out upon the melee of faces. Remus and Severus were smiling up at her from the front row, along with Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Tonks. She looked further and saw Molly and Arthur and the rest of the Weasleys, all of the school faculty, and all of her friends.
In the last row were her captors, Dayrin and Bellatrix, but for some reason it did not bother her. She realized now that they would be with her forever, as a reminder of who she was and what she could endure.
Hermione walked to the microphone and began to sing.
"Days like this I don't know what to do with myself
All day—and all night
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath
I say to myself
I need fuel—to take flight
And there's too much going on
But it's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Is that why they call me sullen girl—sullen girl
They don't know I used to sail the deep and tranquil seas
But he washed me ashore and he took my pearl
And left an empty shell of me
And there's too much going on
But it's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion"
She fell silent and looked out on the sea of faces. Dayrin and Bellatrix were fading and her friends in the front rows grew more vivid. Hermione smiled and left the stage.
And woke up smiling. It was the first night she hadn't dreamt about Dayrin torturing her. She got up, stretched, and walked over to the window. The moon was a gentle crescent, glowing kindly in the sky.
Remus woke and looked over at the empty bed. He sat up and looked around, when he saw Hermione at the window he smiled, laid back, and went back to sleep.
I'm going to be just fine.
For the rest of the week, Hermione attended sessions with Elena, wrote in her journal, and sparred with Snape. Remus stayed on her couch, though he no longer had to sleep in bed with her.
A few days later:
Hermione sat in the kitchen and watched the others warily. Snape looked angry, as did Remus, oddly, and Molly and Arthur looked sad. Tonks looked nervous.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Hermione, you are scheduled to return to Hogwarts on the day after tomorrow. Are you up to it?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good. I feel I must ask you…there are things you may have learned during your torture that could be useful to us."
"I told you what I know, which is basically nothing."
"Yes, however the mind often picks up more than it is capable of recalling."
"Okay…so?"
"I would like to ask you to put your memories in a pensieve. They will be analysed for any useful data. I shall make sure that only one or two people are privy to them," he added hastily.
Hermione's face went blank and expressionless. You bastard.
"You're asking me to relive my time there for memories that will most likely be useless?"
"For the good of the Order, Hermione," he supplied gently.
"Of course," she said icily. "The Order."
"Hermione, I shall personally—" Dumbledore started, but she waved him silent.
"I will put my memories in a pensieve on one condition."
"Yes?" asked Dumbledore.
"Only Remus and Professor Snape will be privy to the pensieve. Together they can analyse the memories and decide if they're useful. If any memory is useful, they are free to present it to the Order. Otherwise the memories will be destroyed."
The room fell silent.
"If you insist, Hermione," Dumbledore said heavily.
"I do," she said calmly.
"Done," he replied. "I shall expect you back at school on Monday. And Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"I'm truly grateful you are recovering."
"Thank you, sir." Dumbledore left and the group dispersed. Hermione sat staring at a point on the wall. Maybe reliving the real memories and not the distorted dreams I have of them will be good. I can look at what happened to me more objectively. Oh lord I can't believe I said something that stupid. Why would I want to look at my own torture objectively? I'm insane. Well, whatever I am, I might as well get this done.
She stood up and turned to Remus and Severus, who stood in the doorway.
"Let's get this done. Remus will you give me a moment with Professor Snape?"
"Sure," he replied easily. "I'll get the pensieve." He took his leave gracefully.
They watched each other for a moment.
"I'm going to have Remus help me retrieve the memories. You already faced them once, I won't put you through it again."
"I was hardly the one going through it, Miss Granger," he replied softly.
"Yes you were. You felt everything." She walked towards him and put her hands on his face. "You almost cried the night he raped me. I won't make you go through that again. You've done enough." She pulled him down and kissed him on the forehead.
"Remus?" she called. He reappeared in the doorway.
"Yes?"
"Will you help me retrieve the memories?" She asked tentatively.
"Of course," came the surprised answer.
"We shall both help you," Snape said firmly, and led her to the table.
"What do I do?"
"Focus on remembering," Remus said soothingly. They walked her through the steps of pulling out a memory and depositing it into the penseive.
Hermione went to work.
A/N: The song in her dream is Fiona Apple's Sullen Girl, from the Tidal album.