A/N: This chapter is dedicated to acciosnape89. This work is better because of your AWESOME review. Many thanks. Now, on with the show.
-K
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Ch. 6 — A Strange Gift of Normalcy
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She came back to find him studying the map.
And objectively, Hermione catalogued what she saw, for the first time viewing him as a potential lover instead of as 'Professor Snape'. He looked gaunt and malnourished, but then she did too. In fact, the two of them looked like they'd just come through a war.
There were lash marks and welts over a majority of his upper torso and back denoting significant and repetitive torture over a great span of time. And if she'd forgotten the role he'd had to play as Voldemort's spy, his patchwork of skin was a constant reminder. There were lash marks and spidery streaks of red along many of his nerve endings, some so vivid in places, it looked to be an intentional tattoo on his skin. But she knew this what came from repetitive exposure to the Cruciatus curse.
In order to have those scars, Professor Snape had to have undergone years of hell and torment, and she had to gulp down the bile this produced.
His complexion was pale going on ghastly, his nose was distinctly Roman, and his hair hung lank and threaded with the beginning wings of silver at his temples. But he smelled of cedar, juniper, and bittersweet.
His teeth were full of gangles, but they were clean, and there had been the taste of spearmint on his breath when he'd kissed her in the second circle. With as tall as the man was, he towered over her. And yet, when they fit together… well, they fit as if they were made for one another.
And too, he'd obviously liked being reminded of what he'd been before the madness of her seventh year had taken over and he'd been forced to play the part of 'most-loathed headmaster' instead of just 'professor'.
And all that he was sharing about himself… did nudity do that to a person? Strip them bare and dissolve armor? And he was certainly well-equipped…. But he was opening up to her, saying things she'd a feeling he hadn't told anyone else. And that made what he said special.
Honestly, she got the impression the man was starved for touch because, although they'd ingested the lust potion, it had surely worn off by now. And so many times, he could've shoved her away, but always he'd drawn her to him, holding her close. And she noticed he especially liked to hold her by the waist.
Before their journey through hell, Professor Snape had been very inhibited, and she had too. But something had happened along their journey. Her world had rocked a little on its axis when he'd agreed to take her on a date. And her heart turned over when she thought back to how bonded they'd been especially towards the end in their little nest as the stones were raining down upon them.
The realization that she could have broken him today was enough to steal her breath. When she thought back to his face the moment he'd realized he'd taken her virginity, she'd seen something within him crack.
And she could not, absolutely would not allow that to happen!
In fact, she'd had the power to break him several times today, for he'd been so very open and vulnerable to her. And in any way demeaning or belittling this man would be a great sin that would never be forgiven. He deserved her respect for what he'd done for the wizarding world. He deserved her kindness and her trust; two concepts which, it seemed, which were foreign to him.
She vowed to herself then and there that, no matter what, she would give him both.
"We should try anticipating what will happen next," he said upon hearing her approach. He looked up and then back down at the map he held, and she had the feeling that with one glance, he'd taken in her every nuance. What she wasn't expecting to see was a flash of concern as he immediately put aside the map, and making his way over to her, lifted her arm for inspection.
"Did a rock do this?" he asked gesturing to the cut on her hand.
Hermione nodded. "Well, Salazar Slytherin started it, but yes, a rock improved upon it."
He turned her palm upward so that the underside of her arm was exposed. "I meant this, Miss Granger?"
She tried to pull her arm back.
He wouldn't allow it.
"Who?" he asked softly, his thumb ghosting over the scab.
"Bellatrix Lestrange."
A flash of anger appeared on his face but was occluded away as his hand moved to cover her arm, and then he was closing his eyes and chanting lowly. And Hermione felt warmth where the hated word 'mudblood' was inscribed. His thumb began to stroke the area, and she held her breath as she felt her skin begin to tingle.
He then moved his hand atop hers, and again there was a tingling warmth, and the pain on the back of her hand lessened and then went away completely.
With one final swipe of his thumb, he ended the chant, and Hermione was left marveling at her arm.
He'd healed her without the use of his wand or a potion; the new flesh on the back of her hand was pink and healthy, and the hated word 'mudblood' gone entirely from her skin. Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked up at him, feeling something nameless slough off her shoulders. She swiped them away and said, "Thank you, professor."
He gave her a sad smile and nodded.
After taking a moment to gather her composure, she cleared her throat and asked, "Have you discovered anything more about this level, sir?"
He gestured she should come closer to view the map. "As you've previously said, this level is about 'greed and waste' where those who hoard and those who spend to excess crash boulders up against one another. This is the consequence." He gestured to the stones littering their feet. "Dante did not dwell in this level, choosing instead to journey on through the river Styx down to level five."
"And that level," she pointed to the map, "needs no explanation." The symbol to represent it was a sword and wand crossed together. She looked up at him. "We're going to have to fight, aren't we?"
He nodded. "It would seem so. Alighieri's fifth circle is about 'wrath and sullenness': a great battle of wills if ever there was one."
Upon hearing this, Hermione bowed her head, suddenly exhausted. Now that the action had lessened around them, she was forced to acknowledge her body had its limits, and the fact that she was well past exhausting them. After all, in the last forty-eight hours, she'd robbed a bank, rode a dragon, snuck into Hogwarts, escaped fiendfyre, fought a war, destroyed a horcrux, and unleashed Salazar Slytherin.
And then, on top of this, she was having to walk nude through what amounted to be hell with the one person on Earth she honestly never would've imagined she'd be paired with. Oh, and she'd lost her virginity.
And to know they'd have to fight again…
She breathed deep, suddenly feeling dizzy and nauseous.
Shite! When had she last eaten? Yesterday… the day before…
"Miss Granger—?"
"Hermione, sir. And I'm having a bit of a hypoglycemic episode."
His hands were instantly at her shoulders turning her to face him and taking her chin in hand. "Have many of those, do you?"
Opening her eyes, she met his stare and said, "In the last year, you bet. Never one this bad before though." She gulped. "Must be all the adrenalin."
"Hold onto me," he ordered as he held out his hands. And then she was in his arms, and they were flying again.
Hermione didn't really register much of the next few minutes only that her professor methodically began flitting from one area of the level they were in towards another like a bee searching for pollen. Eventually, he sat her down on a large stone—this one boulder-sized—and she watched as he began foraging through the surrounding bushes.
If anyone would know about what would look edible in a foreign place such as this, it would be this man. Every potion, every ingredient had to be identified and categorized in whether or not it was safe to ingest by itself.
The surrounding brush was scraggly. After all, there were stones along nearly every surface. But there were trees that looked like they had a possibility of bearing fruit. He flew up into the trees, and she lost sight of him for a moment, and then he returned to the ground holding what looked like some type of melon.
And with a downward swipe with his hand and a chant, it was split in two.
He scooped out the seeds and then broke off a chunk and held it up to his eyes for inspection, using four of his five senses: sight, touch, smell, and taste. She saw him wince.
Oh, dear.
He looked up at her. "Miss Granger, you'll need to eat this."
"Oh," she said unevenly, "something tells me I'm not going to like it."
He flew towards her and handed her half of the melon. "You'd be right. It does, however, have plenty of glucose, which is what your body needs right now."
She looked down. It was the shape and breadth of a papaya but was segmented like an orange, and it smelled like a used tire. She looked up at him.
He frowned down at her. "Eat."
In turn, she frowned down at the fruit, but she dutifully broke off a piece of it and popped it into her mouth. Without thinking about it too much, she winced at the bitter brackish taste, chewed, and swallowed.
It was horrible.
But she'd had worse. By God, she'd had infinitely worse in her time spent on the run. And she could already tell it wasn't going to make her sick.
Methodically, she began to break off pieces of the fruit and chew.
Professor Snape crouched down low, coming eye-level with her. "You've really changed, haven't you, Miss Granger?"
In her best impersonation of him, she hitched a brow and said in as snide a tone as she could muster, "What was your first clue, Professor Snape?" And then she spoiled it all by grinning up at him.
It might've been her imagination, but she thought she saw his lips twitch in reply.
She said to answer his question, "I suppose circumstance does have a way of changing you, especially when you're on the run from everything familiar. I know it's definitely changed my standard of living because I've learned taste is a luxury next to starvation, and I should be grateful for what I get. So yes, I guess I have." And she finished the foul-tasting fruit with a sigh of relief at having gotten a bad job over and done.
But she felt leagues better for having eaten something.
"So…" she dusted off her hands and rose to her feet, asking, "battle strategy?"
Rising as well, he looked pointedly down at her and said, "Call your bluebell flame to you, Miss Granger. It's time for your first lesson in wandless magic."
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Her heart soared. Professor Snape was going to teach her! That old Hermione-ish feeling of the girl who wanted to please her professor instantly asserted itself. And she was taken aback by it for she hadn't had cause to feel this way in more than a year.
What a strange gift of normalcy this was becoming. And if she wasn't mistaken, Professor Snape, too, found some comfort from the simple and familiar role.
He assumed a casual stance beside her as he began to lecture, and Hermione was once more a student under her professor's watchful gaze. "The first thing you must know about wandless magic is that it's instinctual. Now, instinct can be akin to performing meditation."
She looked at him, curious, as he expanded, "The moment you consciously think about doing it is the moment when your concentration is broken. Now," he pointed to her, "you have an affinity for fire. You and this element work well together. You don't have to really concentrate to produce it, and I would venture to say your first accidental instances of performing wandless magic were involving flame."
She nodded.
He tilted his head and said, "I have an affinity for air. It allows me to fly. I cannot wandlessly control or manufacture flame, and you, more than likely, will be unable to fly. Now, in order to produce your flame in the past you've had to perform a spell and perform a precise wand movement. However, in time, you've instinctively learned to manipulate what you produce with a gesture of your hand. Call a jar to you now."
She made a beckoning motion, and obediently, a jar of flame came whizzing forward. "Close your eyes and imagine your finger is a wand, just another extension of yourself, and cast the 'dupleo' charm upon the flame."
Hermione performed the movement perfectly, and opening her eyes, saw she'd produced another jar.
She smiled and looked up at him.
"Do it again," he instructed, his expression knowing.
Drawing a deep breath, she performed the movement… and nothing happened.
"Beginner's luck," he said sardonically. "Again, it comes down to instinct and muscle memory. You've been using wandless magic for months, and by now your body knows the correct way to channel your magic to achieve the desired result. The hard part's already done; now you're just expanding upon that knowledge. Try again."
Drawing a determined breath, Hermione did so, watching as a jar came whizzing up to her.
"Now, send it back."
Pointing, she did so.
"Now, call it forward."
She beckoned, and it flew to her.
"Send it back."
She did.
"Again."
"And again."
"Now perform the 'dupleo' charm."
Unhesitating, she did so, and a jar of flame was duplicated to look like the first. She looked up at him in surprise.
"Try to duplicate it again," he instructed.
She did.
Nothing happened.
But going back to basics, Hermione summoned a jar of flame to her, sent it back, and then performed the 'dupleo' charm. A new jar appeared.
Feeling confident she had it now, she performed the 'dupleo' charm without hesitation and watched as another jar appeared.
She did it once more with the same effect, and then waved her finger in a broad sweeping arc of the spell, watching as all the jars she'd made multiplied by two and then by four until there was a fine assortment surrounding them.
Looking up at her professor, she found he had a decidedly pleased air about himself.
He said, "Now, engorge them."
With a curve of her hand, she performed the spell to do so, stumbling back in his arms at the towering inferno now surrounding them.
He looked down at her pointedly. "This, Miss Granger, is our battle strategy. And now that you've learned to duplicate your flames, you must learn to vanish them away. Like with 'evanesco', this will work on any type of matter."
Including shed blood, her mind supplied for her.
"It takes practice as well as precise focus. I do not expect you to master the spell today. Instead, I want you to take five of your flames and call them to you, and then, as a group, banish the remaining lot. The hand movement is thus…." Hermione watched as he drew his palm up slowly as if invoking his power before curving it downward and away from himself in a kind of 'flinging' motion.
One of her flames instantly disappeared.
"Now, close your eyes and once more pretend your hand is a wand. Call your power to you exactly as you would to perform the 'dupleo' charm."
Hermione did so, feeling her power begin to rise to her call.
"Now, raise your hand as if that power were in the palm of your hand." She did so. "Open your eyes and focus on your group of flames." She did. "Now, non-verbally cast 'evanesco' and launch your power at them."
Hermione did, and there was a deafening blast as she watched each of the jars she'd made explode in a shower of glass and flame before crumbling to dust.
She looked at Professor Snape in shocked surprise.
He smirked. "I did say it wouldn't be mastered today. Now, there's one more trial we must face before we journey to the next level." He pointed to the map.
There was a symbol of a star and a symbol of water.
"Since the water more than likely represents the River Styx, our next trial will likely have something to do with fire."
"A trial by fire. Lovely," she mused.
He rolled his eyes, continuing, "The River Styx separates 'upper Hell' from 'nether Hell', and here," he pointed to the fifth circle, is where the sins begin to get more grievous."
"Is that because they're typically committed against others, sir?" she asked as they began to walk.
He gestured she should explain.
"Well," she stated, "until now, the sins have been ones of incontinence: those who have the inability to control themselves but are less likely to do harm to others." She bit her lip and said, "Wrath is typically expressed against something or someone. As are all the remaining sins."
"Well reasoned," he allowed. "Yes, level five will mark a distinct change. But first things first. We are on the hunt for a star."
"We've been prompted until now to do certain actions, why would Slytherin leave us to our own devices?" she asked absently as they began to walk. "You're the head of Slytherin. How about some insight into how your progenitor thinks?"
Professor Snape looked down at the map he held and then back at her. "This might be used as a distraction to deter those that enter from the greater lesson being taught. Salazar Slytherin's ultimate goal is to test us so that we may enter his inner sanctum. What can you think of from your reading of this Canto?"
Hermione closed her eyes, and accessing her memory palace, she pulled out her copy of Dante's Inferno, and skimmed Canto VII.
She looked up at him. "There's Virgil's discussion of Dame Fortune who arbitrarily grants 'luck' or 'misfortune' to those in a pre-ordained manner. She was—"
"—represented as a star," Professor Snape injected.
Hermione nodded, continuing, "She was the servant of God, and the hoarders and wasters sought to cheat her, and thus, cheat God." She looked at him curiously. "But the question then becomes how does one cheat God by hoarding and wasting?"
Just then there was a rumble in the distance and her eyes widened. It was going to storm again. Professor Snape drew her into his arms and Hermione clung on tight as he began flying them away from the sounds of thunder.
"I think the answer to your question is the key to getting out of this place," he said over the wind. And on he flew them faster, Hermione thinking faster still.
Alright, she'd seen a documentary once concerning the disease of hoarding. According to psychologists, hoarding is about craving control: having control of one's environment to the nth degree. To those that hoard, there was a place for everything and everything in its place. Thinking everything should be saved to use again later, they soon created waste and decay.
Those that hoard put too much value in worldly things, planning and preparing for the future. According to Dante, they should've put their faith in God to supply all their needs, relying on destiny and fate.
Wasting, too, was about control… but having a loss of it. Those that waste didn't see the value in the things God the Creator, through man, had made. They did not treat things with reverence and value, but instead tossed them aside. They were faithless and had no reverence for what God has provided them.
The key to both was discernment and moderation: to plan for the future, but allow variance for God to interfere, and to not waste that which was God-given.
In sum, to allow God's will, be it for good or ill, and be grateful for what's decided.
It began to rain little pebbles, and as fast as Professor Snape was flying them, he still couldn't outrun the storm.
Seeing no point in flying them further, he began looking for a place for them to hide, finding a small cave. Hermione shown one of her flames into the space and was relieved to see it was unoccupied. Professor Snape drew them under the overhang as the stones began to fall.
Following a hunch, she said into the storm, "Thank you. Thank you, Salazar Slytherin, for this opportunity to learn more about myself and grow."
A golden door with a star upon it appeared before them, and Professor Snape stopped them and looked down at her in astonishment.
She shrugged and said, "Gratitude. This level is all about allowing God's will and being grateful for what's decided."
Professor Snape's lips twitched. "And so, since Salazar Slytherin is the creator of this hell, its God, he wants to be 'thanked' for it."
Nodding, she laughed and hissed the words 'Door Open' in parseltongue.
The door dissolved into a shower of gold dust and an ethereal voice said, "You've come this far, and Dame Fortune decries you've earned a boon. Choose wisely."
The words 'Pick one' appeared before a mound of items. And Hermione saw they were all the items they'd come in with: Professor Snape's robes, her jumper, denims, and trainers, their wands, and her beaded bag. Professor Snape immediately chose his wand.
And torn, Hermione looked between her wand and her bag before choosing her bag.
Once she touched it, all of their other things disappeared.
"Miss Granger!" Professor Snape bellowed looking shocked. "How could you do something so foolish?"
She shook her head. "It's not foolish, sir. I promise, it's not." And not wasting any time, Hemione opened her bag and went into it up to her shoulder before finding what she was looking for and drawing it out. She said to him, "Sir, if you wouldn't mind engorging this." She gestured to the bit of canvass she held, leaning it on the back of the cave wall.
He did so, and the frame enlarged.
Hermione called out, "Headmaster Black, are you there, sir?"
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"Miss Granger, and here I was thinking it's been too long since last I was blindfolded—Oh, Miss Granger!" The portrait of Headmaster Phineas Nigelous Black clapped his hands over his eyes and immediately turned his back, saying scandalized, "Where are your clothes, child?"
Hermione gasped and covered herself. "I'm so sorry, sir! Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. And oh! What a time for you to be without your blindfold!"
Professor Snape snorted, and she shot him a dry look before saying, "Just a moment, sir. I'll tell you when it's safe to turn around."
Again, she dug in her bag and found clothes for herself as well as some of Harry's clothes for Professor Snape. "Here," she told him. "I know they'll be much too small, but maybe you can enlarge them?"
He looked down at the pile of clothes at his feet with disgust before saying, "I refuse to wear the y-fronts worn by 'The Boy Who Lived'."
Hermione's mouth twitched, but she replied sotto voce, "Then perhaps you should go 'commando', sir?"
His eyebrows rose, but he did not comment, and Hermione watched as he began enlarging and transfiguring Harry's clothes to be more or less something he would wear. Harry's denims were still denims, but they were now dyed black and elongated to fit Professor Snape's much taller frame. Last year's Weasley sweater was enlarged and also changed to black; although Hermione could still see the 'H' on the front which was slightly lighter than the rest of the fabric. Harry's ancient trainers and socks were also given the same enlarging, black-dyed treatment before being donned.
And then suddenly her potion's professor was once more clothed and staring back at her, his eyes ever-watchful.
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Hermione hurriedly put on a bra and her nickers, and then shimmied into her denims, before throwing on a t-shirt and a hooded jumper. And finding a hair elastic, she bound her hair into an untidy bun at the nape of her neck before sitting on the ground to put on her socks and shoes.
Once finished, she breathed a sigh of relief as well as a prayer of thanks at no longer being nude, and said, "Alright, sir, you may turn around now."
"Miss Granger—" the older wizard said, "that was most improper! I don't know what you were think—"
"Quiet!" Professor Snape ordered from behind her. "Bring Albus here immediately."
"Headmaster Snape," Phineas paled, looking shocked. "You're there too? And Miss Granger was in the nude?" He looked at Professor Snape scandalized and then with accusation. "Now you wait just a minut—"
"Do it now!" Professor Snape commanded, invoking the powers given to him as the Headmaster of Hogwarts regarding each of the portraits.
Phineas froze and then obediently turned in his frame to do as Professor Snape bid.
Meanwhile, Hermione looked over at Professor Snape and crossed her arms, looking smug.
"Yes, alright," he said drolly, "in this, I will allow you were correct in your choice."
She grinned.
Headmaster Dumbledore appeared in the frame not a moment later.
"Severus, to say I'm hearing from you now is quite a shock, I must say."
"You have Miss Granger to thank for it, Albus."
"Miss Granger, is it?" Professor Dumbledore said, amused. "Seeing you there is quite the surprise, my dear. You've chosen to accompany Professor Snape after all."
"It was an accident—" they said in unison.
"But I'm happy it happened." A corner of her mouth lifted as she looked up at him. "After all, no one should have to go through hell alone.
Again, Professor Snape rolled his eyes but did not refute her words. Instead, he asked, "How many hours have passed since we've left?"
"About two hours. It's just before lunch time here."
"Time seems to work differently down here," said Professor Snape.
"Yes," Hermione interjected wryly, "Every single minute seems to last an eternity."
"Well, that can only work to your favor, children. Thus far, Salazar has not moved from his conversations with the other founders. But what's this Phineas is saying about Miss Granger being in the nude?"
Hermione's cheeks began to scald.
She opened her mouth to explain, but Professor Snape beat her to it, saying, "It's exactly as we imagined it would be, Albus, down to every twisted, minute detail, and we're getting a thorough education in what Alighieri's hell would look like according to Salazar Slytherin."
She looked up at him gratefully. With his words, he'd side-stepped the mention of their nudity quite neatly.
He continued, "Right now, we're on the cusp of level five, and we're more than certain we're going to have to fight in it."
"I'm afraid you'd know more than I would, children. It's been a century, at least, since I read Alighieri's master work. Incidentally, Severus, there are new developments you should take with you on your journey. The first being that Slytherin is devising a way to bring Rowena Ravenclaw's portrait-encased self back to life."
Professor Snape's eyebrows rose.
"Oh, yes. The founders' magic is intrinsically tied to the castle itself, and though the founders are no longer living, their magic still exists, and it's this for which Slytherin is concerning himself."
After biting her lip, Hermione said, "But wouldn't this be a good thing? After all, the other founders kept Slytherin in line, didn't they?"
Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid it's not, my dear. A portrait is a tin-type of the actual person, not the person himself. I'm imbued with the memories of Albus Dumbledore up until the moment he died, but I quite became my own 'self' upon his passing. Now, this being said, a portrait is subject to 'extremes' of emotion as it reminds us of what it means to be living. Some of us, myself not discounted, lose perspective of what it means to be human. And this is a very dangerous thing, Miss Granger, especially considering how much power is at stake."
"So," Hermione led, "a Rowena Ravenclaw who can't quite remember what it's like to be human but given full access to her power will be much more prone to—"
"—fits of pique," Professor Snape interrupted. "Much like Slytherin himself. And together, there's no telling what merry hell they'll produce."
"Precisely, Severus. Precisely," Professor Dumbledore said.
"You said this was the first. What of the second?" Professor Snape asked.
If anything, the headmaster looked even more grave. He leaned into his portrait and said softly, "I've listened to Helga and Godric talk of Slytherin and his antics. Severus, I believe he knew Persephone."
Hermione did a double-take and asked, "As in Goddess Persephone?"
"One and the same, Miss Granger. It seems there might have been a little matter of ambrosia being ingested…."
"But that's just a myth—" Hermione said, her tone incredulous.
Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "Myth is many times based in fact, my dear. Look at your last year abroad. I had you searching for hallows based on a child's fairytale."
She paled. "But a goddess?"
Professor Snape looked thoughtful before replying, "This place is a funhouse, Albus. And should Persephone exist, for her it would be like visiting an amusement park."
"With what she'd seen from Hades?" Professor Dumbledore agreed. "Absolutely."
"He's vain enough; he'd want to impress her," Hermione said, adding her own insight into Slytherin's tactics. "Slytherin would want to show off the latest 'best-seller' humanity had to offer. So it follows, should the myth be real, and Persephone actually exist…."
"Then he built this place—" Professor Snape said softly.
"—as a shrine—" she injected.
They looked at one another, and Hermione gulped.
"For her."
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A/N: And things keep getting curiouser and curiouser. I will be posting the subsequent chapter fairly soon as these two go hand-in-hand. I didn't want to drown you in words, reader, and so I decided to split them.
That being said, a review is like a gift you guys give me for a job well-done. Let me know what you think so far.
Ciao bella!
-K