Severus was just walking up the stairs to Dumbledore's office when the second bout of pain struck. He gritted his teeth and tried to block it out with every Occlumency trick he'd ever learned. When he'd managed to subdue the pain enough to think, he walked slowly up the stairs, not seeing where he was going, too busy fighting the pain in his head. The pain that wasn't his, but Hermione's.
The door opened before he'd even had a chance to knock on it and Albus gestured Severus into his office, a serious look on his face.
"Where is she, Albus?" he asked, through gritted teeth. "What's happening to her?"
"I fear I know even less than you in this instance, Severus," Albus replied, his voice grave. "Can you sense where she is?"
"I can barely sense where I am with this pain in my head," he snarled. "Merlin knows how bad it will be for her, first hand. How can you not know where she is?"
"I have sent all the portraits to find her. They should only be a few minutes." He took out his wand, murmured a few words, then tapped Severus on the head.
"What are you...?" His voice faltered as he brought his fingers to his temples. He couldn't feel her. The pain had gone and she had gone. He suddenly felt almost bereft. He couldn't even try to talk to her now. He didn't know what she was feeling anymore. He had no way to help.
"Put the Charm back," he snarled again. "I have to help her."
"You won't be any help if you can't think."
"For fuck sake." He paced up and down the office, shoving chairs out of his way as he went. "I'm thinking just fine. Put the Charm back."
He couldn't believe he was practically begging Albus to put the bloody thing back, when he's spent so long trying to get him to remove it. He would so get his revenge later, maybe at some time when Hermione wasn't in mortal danger.
"Out of interest Severus, have you tried your little tracking charm yet?"
Severus winced and closed his eyes in part annoyance, part mortification. How could he not have thought of that? The only excuse was the Crucio-like pain that had been slicing through his brain, but he'd thought himself out of situations under worse pain than that. Just.
Hermione was not good for his mind at all, he decided. He'd spent the last two weeks avoiding her, trying to keep her out of his head, but he still hadn't been able to stop thinking about her.
She'd said she'd cared about him and the thought terrified him, because he couldn't care back. He just wasn't that kind of person, and she'd only end up being hurt. So instead he had stayed away from her, telling himself that she'd soon get over the foolish idea that she could somehow get close to him.
Seeing her in classes was unavoidable of course, but other than that he'd kept contact to a minimum. She'd had no idea that he'd stood in the doorway of his library most nights, watching her as she'd curled up on his rug with a book. He'd watched as she'd turned every page, completely engrossed in what she was reading, except for the odd brief glances to the door, which she'd always left open. He'd half wondered if she could see him, despite the invisibility cloak, before realizing that she was looking through him, into the living room, hoping he'd appear.
He'd almost shrugged his cloak off and gone to curl up on the rug with her. He'd longed to lie behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pulling her warm body into his chest. But instead, he'd settled for moving to sit near her, so close he could smell the distinctive shampoo she used.
He had almost been discovered when she'd risen to her feet and had almost trodden on him. He'd watched as she'd got up and wandered out of the library. She'd peeped into his bedroom and bathroom, obviously looking for him. He could tell that she'd briefly considered going through the library and into his house to search there, but for whatever reason had reconsidered.
He had admitted to himself as he'd followed her around his quarters, that he was acting almost like a stalker. It was all very well not letting Hermione have contact with him, but he was still constantly watching her. He was never going to get her out of his head that way. But still he watched, telling himself that it would be over in a week, when the detentions were over. He'd work on getting her out of his head then, instead.
He berated himself for not having spent more time looking out for her. He still hadn't talked to Draco. He cringed with guilt as he cast the spell to track Hermione down. This time the light was a curious molten silver, sort of like a little ball of mercury floating down the stairs. Very pretty...
He followed it, not able to wait until it came back to him. He was almost running, trying to keep up with the ball of light as it flew rapidly towards the library.
The library, of course! She practically lived in there. If only she'd stayed in his own library to read then he'd have been with her. He could have saved her from whatever it was that had hurt her.
He suddenly felt a stab of guilt. For the first week of 'detentions' she'd stayed in his library until she'd been falling asleep, and he'd guessed that she'd been waiting to see him. After a week, she'd given up, only staying in his library for an hour or two before giving up and moving on to the main Hogwarts Library.
It was his fault she had been in there alone.
He was getting closer now and he could hear whimpering. His heart seemed to turn over and bile threatened to come up into his mouth. Where was she? He searched frantically, trying to beat the tracking charm to save valuable seconds.
Where was she? Where? He opened the library door and let it slam against the wall.
"Miss Granger?" he called, realizing his voice made it sound like sounded like he was furious with her, instead of scared witless for her. Well, at least anyone who might be around wouldn't think he'd gone soft in his old age.
He didn't care. He softened his voice as he followed the light as quickly as he could.
"Hermione? Where are you?"
The whimpering suddenly stopped and Severus almost choked in panic, looking around even more frantically.
Finally the ball stopped above what looked like a pile of rags, then bounced back to Severus to spell out the words, "Library, Prophecy Section, Restricted, Aisle Three."
He wafted away the needless words and bent over the shaking form of Hermione Granger. At least she was still alive.
He tried to tip her on to her back, expecting her body to be pliant. He wanted to check her for injuries. But as he gently tipped her over, her body stayed curled up into itself. She was completely stiff; the only sign that she was indeed alive was the juddering and shaking going through her whole body.
Her nails were digging into her temples, blood running down her face where the points of her nails had torn through her skin. He bit back a gasp as he lifted her hair back and looked into her eyes. They were completely black and seemed to have an almost oily film flowing over the surface, creating rainbow patterns, like petrol in a puddle.
Scooping her stiff body up into his arms, he strode towards his chamber. He knew what was wrong with Hermione.
Hermione had heard his voice and had sobbed with relief. The pain had started to fade again, but she still couldn't see. She was beginning to suspect that it was probably just her eyes rather than the rest of the world, if the burning was anything to go by.
Seconds after she heard his voice, she suddenly saw what looked like flames. She had a vague idea that maybe there had been a blackout after all, and Severus was carrying some sort of flaming torch. It seemed like a 'Hogwarts' thing to do. Very Medieval.
But as the flames got higher, she started to recognize things. It was a sofa that was burning, the flames reflected in a television, her television at home. It was her living room, in fact. She looked around and the view changed as the rest of the dimly lit living room came into view.
She could feel the heat from the fire starting to scorch her skin and she backed away through the open door, before looking fearfully up the stairs.
Oh my God, her parents. The fire was spreading fast – she had to save them.
She ran up the stairs and reached to turn the handle of the door to her parents' room. Her hand went straight through the handle and she closed her eyes in confusion. Was she dead? Was this her hell? Or was she a ghost? Were her parents about to burn to death and she'd been sent back to save them?
She swiped at the handle again, before taking a deep breath and charging through the closed door; years of taking The Hogwarts Express from Platform 9 ¾ making the sensation of passing through the door much easier to handle.
There were her parents, fast asleep in bed. Her dad was snoring lightly and her mum had her mouth open just a little, completely oblivious to the thin layer of smoke coming through the cracks around the door.
"Mum, dad? Wake up. There's a fire and you have to get out of here. Mum? Wake up. For God sake, wake up."
Severus heard the words Hermione had spoken out loud and closed his eyes in horror. So that was the scenario Hermione was experiencing; watching her parents burn to death, as they really burned to death miles away.
It wasn't her real parents dying, Severus knew. Hermione also knew this very important fact but it wouldn't make any difference. The clones would react in the exact way her parents would in the same situation and Hermione, who would be confused and completely lost, would have a hard time differentiating.
"Sick, fucking bastard." He would have hit the wall, if he wasn't still carrying Hermione in his arms.
Having finally reached his quarters, he swept into his current bedroom and placed her gently on the bed where she lay, curled up in the fetal position, silent tears running down her face.
He sat next to her on the bed and stroked the hair back off her face.
"Hermione, please listen to me," he said, stroking her cheek with one, long finger. "They aren't your parents. Remember? They're clones. You have to come back to me. Please Hermione."
No response. Not that he'd expected one.
He quickly scribbled a message for Albus to come to his bedroom, quickly, before handing it to 'Owl,' his owl.
He turned back to attend to Hermione, conjuring ice-cubes and touching one to her cheek. Her eyes were still black and she'd started muttering under her breath, begging so quietly he could barely make out the words. He realized she'd become hysterical.
Hermione had indeed become hysterical. The fire was spreading and her parents weren't waking up. The floor was hot and the room was filling with smoke. She choked.
The sound made Severus jump. Was Draco a complete idiot?
God, she's going to die.
He started frantically shaking her stiff form.
"Hermione. Snap out of it. Come on."
She choked again.
How on earth would this benefit Draco? If he killed Hermione, then he'd failed his task. Was he so dim he didn't see that? Killing Hermione would lead to his possibly even more painful death.
"Please Hermione," he begged, swallowing a lump in his throat. The only way back from this curse was for the person to bring themselves back. They had to force their minds back to their bodies and Hermione didn't even seem to realise that she wasn't in hers.
He pinched her arm, hard.
Nothing.
He was contemplating sticking a needle into the tip of a finger when Albus Dumbledore appeared next to him.
He nodded, as he took in Hermione's body, curled up upon itself.
"I can't get through to her. You have to get Weasley or Potter. They might be able to bring her back."
The Headmaster shook his head. "If anyone can bring her back, it is you, Severus. You will figure this out."
"Figure this out? This is some sort of test?" he spat, rounding on Albus.
"What. Do. I. Do?" He said the words slowly, like he was talking to a stupid child.
"Open your heart, Severus," he said, leaving the room to go and pace outside. He turned to look at the younger man as he reached the door.
"Please save her, Severus." His voice was sad, almost pleading. Severus closed his eyes.
Open your bloody heart! Severus sneered. Who was he, a Mills and Boon character?! Yes, he knew that if shocks such as pain didn't work, then sometimes touching the victim of the curse would work instead. Was that what Albus had meant?
He admitted that sometimes it had worked, depending on the person under the curse, and who was doing the touching. Which is why they needed Weasley or Potter – he couldn't do this.
More often than not, he admitted to himself, victims of this curse didn't wake up at all. He certainly had never known any who had.
A choked scream interrupted his despairing thoughts and he moved quickly back to Hermione's side. Her breathing was becoming laboured, and he estimated about five minutes before he'd have to start a resuscitation spell.
He had to reach her subconscious. She wasn't listening to him and there was no way to get her to respond any other way.
He reached under the bed for his dagger and gently uncurled one of her palms, holding it open in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, wincing as he sliced down the middle of her palm. Blood immediately oozed from the deep cut, but she didn't move. He sighed and muttered a charm to heal it. It disappeared without leaving a mark.
He locked his eyes with her black ones. Now they looked like flames were licking at her eyeballs against the black.
He probed her mind, sifting quickly through memories he didn't care about just then. He was trying to find her.
It was useless. Maybe it would have worked if he'd still had that charm? But as he thought it, he knew that he would still be in too much agony to really be of any help. Albus had been right about that.
"Hermione?" he tried to push his voice into her mind. "Please come back. Please. This isn't real. You are intelligent enough to fight this. You need to wake up now, Hermione. God, please wake up."
He moved back to look into her eyes again and groaned in despair.
He saw Albus reappear in the doorway and he turned to him.
"She called for me, Albus. When this first hit, she called my name. She trusted me to save her."
Tears finally came and he swiped them away with the back of his hand.
"She cared. She cared and I let her down. I let my own pathetic fears hurt her. I hurt her, because I was afraid of getting hurt."
More tears were coming and Severus turned away from Albus, who still hadn't said anything.
"Hermione, for fuck sake wake up!"
He shook her again, then leaned down and kissed her, hard. He kissed her lips over and over and over again, holding her mouth to his with a hand in her hair.
"Don't fucking dare die on me," he said, between hard kisses. He didn't care that Albus was watching; he didn't care that he'd probably get fired for this.
He started crying properly, sobbing against her mouth. All the emotion he'd had pent up for so long had suddenly overcome him. He couldn't lose her. Not like this.
"You've got to live. You're the only person I've ever wanted to let in. I want you to know who I am, Hermione. We can find out together. If you just come back. Please."
Severus' pale face suddenly lifted from Hermione's, an idea hitting him. He got to his feet and strode into the living room, knocking Albus to the side in his haste.
He returned, a small silver disk in his hand. Hermione's breathing was shallow and coming in gasps now. She was still whimpering and talking. Her words were almost inaudible, but Severus could just about make out the words, "it's burning." She was burning to death in her own mind, watching her parents burn with her.
"Hermione," he said, calmly, in contrast to the tears still coming from his eyes. "If this doesn't work, I'm sorry I couldn't save you. You were... amazing."
He pointed his wand at the small silver disk and it floated into the air, spinning around faster and faster. Music suddenly filled the air and Severus lifted his hand in an 'up' gesture, until the music was so loud the dungeon walls were vibrating.
"Please hear this," he whispered, the music too loud for anyone to hear his words as he quietly sang along with the song.
And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
'Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
And you bleed just to know you're alive
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be brokenI just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
