(Disclaimer: see beginning)
to Inthesouth: The Astral Plane works like a mirror world, or a connecting, in between world. It's like the spirit reflection of the real world, except is encompasses different dimensions, planets, etc.. You can think of it like; Severus looking through a shop window. He wasn't quite in the shop, but he was able to see inside and was close to the door. Because he was close to Hermione's dimension (aka the Soul Book), but not really in it, he wasn't as susceptible to the time difference. He was affected (thus making him lose a day when he returned to his body), but not as much as Hermione (who lost more time). I hope that clears up the confusion for you! :)
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Many thanks to my betas, McGonagall's Bola and Emilia Wolfe! And to everyone else who reviewed or alerted. The feedback is like mana XD
Previously:The room descended into silence, as Voldemort ruminated over the headmaster's lie and the lost Gryffindor. When he seemed to come to a decision he returned his attention to Snape. "Severussss...you will watch Albus for any more news on the girl. I want the truth about the Mudblood...And if she should return from her 'project', you will report to me immediately."
"My Lord, if you need the Mudblood, why not take a more proactive route?"
Chapter 14
Disgust.
That would probably be the best description of what Harry was feeling at the moment…and anger, definitely anger. His vibrant green eyes shifted between the two faces hovering over him, looking at him with patronizing grins, as if he were a dumb child they were indulging.
His fist clenched in his lap, and he tried to remain calm as he looked ahead. "I already told you. I don't know what you're talking about. We all knew Hermione would be away for a while. She told us all about her internship in Australia months ago. I just got a letter from her last week and everything─You've seen it!"
Actually, they hadn't seen anything. What Harry had handed over to them as proof, had been nothing more than a fake piece of post created by Dumbledore. It was penned in Hermione's usual flowing script.
The "Ministry Official" in the blue robes, who had introduced himself as Gibbons, came forward. His beady eyes were narrowed in suspicion, as he looked at the student sitting sullenly in front of him. "Mr. Potter, we only want to make sure that everything checks out and that your friend is safe. Something I'm sure you want to verify as well."
Yeah right…Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. These men cared about Hermione's safety about as much as he cared about Voldemort's health. If they were really worried about Hermione, then they would be in Australia, trying to look for her, not bugging him and his friends.
The one in burgundy robes─Jaggen, he thought his name was─smirked nastily at him. Harry glared back. Even if the Headmaster hadn't warned him that these men were really Voldemort's Ministry tools, he wouldn't have trusted them. There was just something about them that reminded him of oily snakes.
Harry gritted his teeth. "Of course I care about Hermione, but I know she's safe. Why are you really here?"
Gibbons, who appeared to be the spokesman of the two, sputtered, incredulously. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, we are here for exactly for the reasons we told you! The Ministry would never lie about such a serious topic as this! Especially when it concerns such a-a…promising student like Miss Granger."
"You mean like how the Ministry 'didn't' lie about Voldemort returning?" the young Gryffindor boldly accused. Gibbons flinched at his causal use of the dark wizard's name.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has nothing to do with this."
This time, Harry didn't try to contain himself and let his eyes roll. He was tired of dealing with these two cronies. For the past half hour they had hovered over him like vultures, asking him the same questions over and over again, as if they were waiting for him to say something. Only he had no idea what they wanted him to say─not that he would give them what they wanted, even if he did know. He wouldn't be doing any favors for the Ministry any time soon. That was for sure.
A knock on the door interrupted them. Not waiting for an answer, McGonagall stepped into the room, looking highly displeased.
"Gentlemen," she addressed the two men briskly, "it has been well over half an hour, and I'm afraid I must insist that you let Mr. Potter return to his classes." Her hand fell to Harry's shoulder in a silent show of support.
"Come along, Mr. Potter. You've dallied enough for the day." McGonagall nudged Harry from his seat and towards the door, before the interrogators could say anything.
Gibbons stumbled after them. "Madame! You can not─"
"I very much can," McGonagall interjected. Her lips pursed in distaste. "This is not an official investigation, nor do you have any right to be here talking to our students, considering neither of you are even apart of the Magical Law Enforcement Department. However, on good faith, the Headmaster has graciously allowed you to impinge on the staff and the students' valuable time with your silly requests, but that does not mean that you can drag our students to and fro as you see fit."
"Now, see here! I will not─"
"And," McGonagall's voice rose slightly, "if you have any complaints, you may direct them to the headmaster. Now, good day to you sirs!" Head in the air, the Deputy Headmistress exited the room, pushing a slightly awed Harry along with her.
When they were far enough away from nosy ears, McGonagall stopped her young charge and turned to him. "Are you alright, Mr. Potter?"
Wiping at his face tiredly, Harry shrugged. "I'm fine. They just kept asking the same questions as last time…Professor, how long are they going to be staying?"
"One can only hope that it will not be much longer," she replied tiredly, then straightening her shoulders, she continued, "Now, off you go. You can make it back in time for lunch if you hurry."
Her rescue mission completed, McGonagall gathered her robes and turned down the hallway. Harry watched her go, a question about Hermione burning on his tongue.
Oh, what's the use? It's not like she would answer me anyway. None of them do. Shoulders slumping, Harry made his way to the Quidditch Pitch and away from the Great Hall. His appetite had vanished the minute he had walked into that office.
Finding a comfortable spot by the pitch, under an old oak tree, Harry sunk to the ground. His knees came up and he rested his head on the knobby mounds. He let the peaceful sounds of rustling leaves and buzzing flies soothe him as best they could. With Hermione still missing in action, he doubted that he would ever be peaceful again.
Another family member lost, another friend dead, came a vicious whisper in his head. Green eyes squeezed shut, and knuckles turned white under a painful grip, as he tried to shut out the painful words.
Unfazed, the voice kept talking.
You say you love her. You say she's your family, and yet here you are, doing nothing while she withers away.
Wrong! He did love her. Hermione was like the big sister he had never had. His scar pulsed on his forehead.
So why don't you fight for her?
He had tried. He and Ron had tried to find something on Soul Books in the library. Hell, they had even searched through the Restricted Section twice, but they had had no idea where to start, what to look for. Research had always been Hermione's domain and without her, the two of them were left floundering, hopeless and lost.
Besides, he had thought that Dumbledore would have come up with a solution by now. If there was anyone that could help his friend, it was the Headmaster, but it was taking so long! If Professor Dumbledore hadn't put Snape in charge…
The pain from his scar became sharper. Unconsciously, Harry began rocking back and forth.
"Snape," he spat the name out, like poison on his tongue. Snape was the problem. Dumbledore should have never put that bastard in charge of saving Hermione. The traitor was probably dragging his feet on purpose, waiting until it was too late to do something. Then he'd have everyone fooled into believing it was an accident.
"But you won't fool me." Magic swirled around him in a wicked breeze. Small pebbles, leaves, and flecks of dust whirled around the young wizard, who was too busy seething with anger to notice the magical outburst.
Impulsively picking up a rock, Harry flung it at a tree. He looked around for something else to throw and quickly picked up another rock, and another. When he was no longer satisfied with seeing the stones bounce harmlessly against the hard bark, he picked up his wand and swished it in a vicious snap at a nearby bush. Sparks flew from the tip of his wand, and the bush quickly blew up in a fiery explosion. His mouth quirked in a cruel smile.
Transfixed by the glowing flames, he slumped in his seat, his wand falling from his grip.
Orange and red greedily ate away green, leaving behind dead, blackened nubs. The sight was oddly satisfying, and yet…not. It would be better if it were bigger, hotter, the licking flames sharper, as they cracked with power.
It could be…the voice was back. Power like this shouldn't be caged, it shouldn't be extinguished. It's meant to conquer, to consume anything weaker in its path. Just imagine if you had this kind of power at your disposal...the things you could do...the people you could save...like Hermione...
Harry's fingers dug into the earth, yanking at the roots as he continued to watch.
"Harry?"
He froze, the vortex of magical wind abruptly stopping in its tracks, the voice vanished from his mind. Plant debris rained down on him, as he fumbled with his wand, rushing to douse out the fire, before he looked over his shoulder sheepishly at Ginny.
The red-head stepped over a pile of fallen debris to get to him. He felt her eyes rake over him and his unruly appearance. He could only imagine the sight he made, covered in dirt, shredded wads of grass in his hair, the ground a mess around him.
Bunching up his sleeve, he scrubbed at his face, hoping that he had wiped a majority of the mess away. "Um." His voiced cracked.
"Oh, Harry," Ginny sighed, falling down beside him and gathering him in a bone-crushing hug that came so naturally to all the Weasleys. Her easy acceptance caused fresh tears to well in his eyes, and he clutched at her, allowing his sobs to pour out of him. Surrounded by the scent of her strawberry shampoo, he was finally able to find some semblance of peace, and his headache slowly began to fade away.
Calmer now, he sat up. "I miss her, Gin," he hiccupped in a shaky voice. "I miss her, and I'm scared that we won't get her out in time."
Ginny squeezed him tighter, letting her own fears leak through her voice. "I know," she whispered, then added with a smile, "but you forget, she's dealing with a Soul BOOK, and if anyone can conquer a book, it's Hermione."
Harry chuckled weakly, settling back against his oak tree. He brought her closer into his side and rested his head on top of hers, releasing a deep sigh. "I hope you're right Gin…I hope you're right."
Located in one of the grand library's seating nooks, Hermione toyed with the paper corners of the book on Astral Projection Theory lying in her lap. Her feet were up and tucked securely underneath her folded legs, as she snuggled deeper into the cushions of what she now considered to be 'her' recliner.
Over the past two months, during breaks and when she had free time, she had taken to reading the book, going through every chapter and section with a fine-toothed comb, until she had mentally consumed every minuet detail and fascinating fact. She had even done a fair bit of experimenting in the Astral Plane, after reading the chapter on the rituals and potions needed to split the spirit from the body for Astral traveling.
She had spent hours in her room, creating, then recreating the herbal mixture, and practicing the inflections and tones for the incantation. The spell had also required a hefty amount of mental fortitude, but luckily, Hermione had a more than adequate education in Occlumency at her disposal.
Unfortunately, with no hair, she had no way to contact anyone. A shame really. She would have loved to talk to her parents again, or Harry and Ron, but she still had fun, just wandering aimlessly around in her spirit form, among the vast and unblinking stars of the Astral Plane.
She could understand why the book had warned its readers not to tarry for too long in the boundless space. It was such a freeing experience that she could easily see why so many people lost themselves in the sensations of the in-between world, never to find their way out again. A shiver traveled up her spine just thinking about it.
The fear of the same thing happening to her had kept her tether line as strong as steel and her visits to the Astral Plane extremely short. She had a purpose for being there, after all─aside from satisfying her general curiosity. She had also wanted to be prepared for Professor Snape's next visit.
The restrictions to her senses had not been an enjoyable experience, and though it was a tad immature of her, the know-it-all in her had not been pleased with being out of the loop. Even though her time here in the Soul Book had helped her deal with the fact that sometimes she just didn't and couldn't know it all, it didn't mean that the feeling of ignorance was any less irritating.
Prior to the professor's summons, Hermione had had no idea that Astral Projection was possible…actually she had had no idea that it was even a thing. So she had scoured the library for books on the subject, experimented and fine-tuned her senses while in spirit form until every detail had been just as crisp as it was in her own world. Until she had studied all of the nuances of the Astral Plane, including those on the subject of spirit auras.
Figuring out what her own orange-yellow aura meant, had been a pleasant surprise. A leaning towards science and creative intelligence, detail-oriented and a perfectionist with a love for mentally challenging projects. She had found herself quite satisfied with the result, and after finding out the meaning of her own color, her eyes couldn't help but search out the meaning behind the professor's. Even though she hadn't really seen him, she did remember seeing that mesmerizing deep red. It was such a strong, lulling color that it would be hard for anyone to forget.
Realistic and centered, with a strong will-power, active and self-sufficient─a survivor. Oddly enough, she was satisfied with that description as well. She felt like it fit her mysterious and often rude professor.
Not that he had seemed all that nasty his last visit. In fact, aside from a few biting remarks and his initial shove─
Which was entirely my fault
─he had been very patient and solicitous and, dare she say, almost concerned at one point.
She had to wonder if the change had been a result of her (as she now understood it to be) dire circumstances, which had tempered his more unpleasant tendencies, or if it had been because they were outside the classroom dynamic, away from suspicious eyes, and had thus no longer been restricted by their previous roles of obedient Muggle-Born student and reviled Death Eater teacher.
But that would mean he wasn't at all the man I thought he was….and didn't that just boggle the mind?
It was entirely possible. She, Harry and Ron had been so wrong about him on numerous occasions already. Their first year, when they had thought he was the one trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, immediately came to mind as evidence. Then, finding out that he was actually a spy for the Order (though Harry and Ron still refused to believe it). Following that train of thought, it would stand to reason that the persona of hateful, manipulative, rude and short-tempered bastard he wore in front of others, was just a ruse.
Then again, I could be seeing dragons where there's just smoke and over-analyzing our entire exchange. It could be that he had just been tired when he contacted me, making him act out of character.
She sighed, shoving her book away and resting her head against the armchair's back. She WAS over-analyzing their conversation. She knew the reason behind it and why she had suddenly become so obsessed with Astral Projection wasn't really because she was interested in learning about it. Deep down, she knew that it wasn't really curiosity propelling her forward, but a deeper more troubling motive.
She was avoiding Fera.
Not very Gryffindorly of her, she knew, but every time she thought about her new friend and her hopeless circumstance, she wanted to cry in frustration. The woman was completely mental fifty percent of the time, and prone to throwing things in anger, could be condescending and arrogant, but she was also brilliant, funny (though it was mostly unintentional), and thoughtful. Through their time together, Hermione had come to see Fera as more than just a key to winning the war, but a mentor to learn from, and a friend with which to share the burden of being trapped in a strange world.
"The Soul Book has its claws so firmly hooked into your friend that getting her out would be futile now…"
Snape's words still raced around in her head, and Hermione had to once again fight back tears. Even worse was the confirmation she had received once she was released form the Astral Plane.
The stubborn Gryffindor, steeped in denial, had tracked down the other woman and asked her how long she had been inside the Soul Book, and what the injury from the Soul-Sucker had done to her.
Even as the blonde witch had tried to laugh it off with a patronizing comment, Hermione hadn't missed the flash of stricken grief that briefly took over her features. It was all the answer the Gryffindor had needed.
Fera had locked herself in her laboratory shortly after and had not come out for a week. Meanwhile, Hermione, just as unwilling to deal with the new reality of their situation, had found refuge in the library where she had devoted herself to decoding the Astral Plane.
"Watson!" The double doors of the library's entrance banged open with Fera's arrival. Her robes flew behind her, snapping viciously as she practically flew towards the seated witch.
Hermione rolled her eyes, her previous worries forgotten in the wake of Fera's uncharacteristically jovial attitude. "I should have never given you that book! In case you've forgotten, my name is Hermione, Fera. HER-MIO-NE."
"Unimportant, Watson! What IS important is that I have finally done it!" Fera grinned, snatching the younger witch's wrist and yanking her along as she ran down the empty halls.
Hermione's teeth clinked unpleasantly as they sprinted down another set of stairs and towards the mirror room. She finally managed to wiggle her arm out of Fera's death grip, just as the other woman was throwing open the door, and ushering her inside.
"Fera, what on Earth are you talking about? What have you done?"
Marching over to the large, ornate mirror, the blonde turned, proudly displaying the amber colored potion in her hands.
Fera shook the glass vial in excitement. "Do you not have eyes, girl? I have finished the potion that should allow us to travel through the mirror."
Annoyance was immediately replaced with wonder as Hermione dashed forward to get a better look at the potion. "You've finished it?" Hermione exclaimed. "But how? I thought you were having trouble with the moonseeds and blood petals."
"Ha! Trifle impediments at most, I assure you! Once I was able to stabilize the Hornbeam sap, it was all elementary," Fera boasted, uncorking the vial and dabbing a small drop on her tongue. There was a pause, then a noticeable shiver.
Striding over to the mirror, Fera splashed the cool glass with a small amount as well. As the potion dripped down the stubborn piece of furniture, she began chanting under her breath. Her words grew louder in an lulling song, as her hands rose in front of her, palms open. They glowed, flashing with a brilliant light that engulfed the mirror and then the room briefly, before returning to their normal dim state. Fera stepped back, looking over the difficult mirror with a happy sigh.
She smiled at Hermione, pushing the rest of the potion under the young woman's nose next. "Well, what are you waiting for? Tongue out!" She barked, her mouth twitching in impatience.
After experiencing how very wrong some of the older and 'supposedly wiser' witch's experiments could go, Hermione instantly leaned away from the foreboding potion.
"First and foremost, what is this potion supposed to do?" Hermione needed to ask, because although she trusted Fera with her life, that trust did not extend to blindly consuming unknown concoctions.
"Must I repeat myself a hundred times? It will allow you to go through the mirror. Really, Hermione, where is your head today?"
"Yes, but HOW, Fera?"
There was a restless huff, but Fera finally stopped trying to shove the potion down her pupil's throat long enough to explain. "It should rearrange your magical signature enough so that it can easily blend with that of the barrier's, allowing you to slip through unnoticed.
Hermione took the vial, observing it thoughtfully. "Any side affects I should be aware of?"
Fera shrugged. "There are none that I can think of. The trial test ran smoothly enough. Of course, that trial was performed on plants and not humans, but it is the same principle."
Oh God…Hermione closed her eyes, resisting the urge to rub at her burgeoning headache, an urge that was becoming all the more common around Fera. She turned the potion over in her hand.
There was a high chance that the potion could backfire, and the initial pain she felt when she first touched the barrier, could magnify to fatal proportions. On the other hand, it could be as Fera said─their one ticket out of here.
This could be it. Professor Snape could be wrong.
Screwing up her courage, Hermione popped off the top and let one single drop land on her tongue. A chill ran through her body, and her magic seemed to zing with energy. "Oh my."
"Indeed. Invigorating, is it not?" Fera smiled beside her. "Shall you go first, or shall I?"
"I'll go," Hermione declared, staring at the mirror that could so easily cause her imaginable pain. "You're better with Healing Charms than I am, so if anything happens to me, you'll at least have a better shot at saving me than I would with you."
Fera looked at her for a moment, then said, "Very well."
"Alright then." Breathing through her nose, Hermione stepped forward, her hand outstretched. Trembling fingers pressed against the cool glass and met no pain. Encouraged, she pushed harder, marveling at the feel of the firm glass becoming flexible and elastic under the added pressure. Her fingers sunk into the glass, pulling at the surface, until her whole hand was covered in the rubber like substance. She pulled her hand out, rubbing it against her shirt. "Wow. That was certainly weird."
Fera eagerly moved forward. "But did it work? What did you feel?"
"Well, nothing really. There was no pain like last time, and when I pushed against the glass. it started to bend inward, like it was made of rubber. It was still sturdy, though. No matter how much I pushed, I couldn't break through."
"Hmm…I see," the blonde muttered. "Still, this is great progress."
"You'll probably only need to tweak it a bit more," Hermione agreed, then had a thought. "Does the potion work for you even though you don't share my blood?"
"It should." Fera eyed the mirror thoughtfully. "I've used your blood in the base, so it should align my magic, just as it did yours." The witch took a step forward as she talked, raising her own hand and placing it against the mirror's glass without hesitation.
Almost instantaneously, the mirror vibrated angrily. A dangerous tremor of magic, like a whip, violently lashed out at the woman standing before it, and Fera fell to her knees hard, crying out in pain, as her body convulsed.
"Fera!" Hermione was at her side in an instant, holding the quivering witch up. Sunken eyes fluttered closed and blood trickled from her pert nose.
With the last of her strength, Fera weakly moaned, "Damn", before she fell limp and unconscious.
Carefully, Hermione lowered them both to the ground, taking out a handkerchief to wipe her friend's face clean with shaky hands. The truth of Professor Snape's words began ringing through her head, over and over again.
"The Soul Book has its claws so firmly hooked into your friend that getting her out would be futile now…"
For an hour, Hermione sat with Fera in her lap. Her tears having dried up a while ago, she was calm once more and thinking rationally.
This issue with Fera was definitely a problem, but it wasn't a hopeless cause. She couldn't accept that, no matter what Snape said. Fera had gone through too much for Hermione to simply give up on her. Her research that she tirelessly labored over, had been turned against her. Her had father had betrayed her, and tried to use her to commit genocide. She lost her lover, and her mother and had been forced into an isolation that was slowly chipping away at her mind.
And yet, through all of that, she was still sane, still standing and fighting for her freedom.
Damn it! I can't let her down, Hermione thought, biting her lip. She just had to figure out how she was going to manage that.
Fera had come a long way with the solution. The potion that she had created today, though it hadn't worked for its creator, was still close to the answer
Hermione was sure the problem didn't lie in the potion maker, rather in the resources. Sure, the gardens here were plentiful, and had a lot to offer, and there were a variety of creatures to be found hiding on the grounds, but that still wasn't a lot. Not compared to the ever-growing list of ingredients used in your every day potion. Even first year potions kits included ingredients that couldn't be found in the UK.
Luckily for Fera, she also had access to the Forbidden Forest and all the vast resources it held─not that it was exactly wise to visit that dangerous place. Not with all those Soul-Suckers lurking around, just waiting for their next victim.
And the Hogwart's library, while extensive, didn't hold all the answers. So maybe that's what Hermione would do after Snape got her out.
Yes…that could work, she thought, a plan already forming in her head.
When she returned to her world, she would not only continue Fera's research on the Reservoir Stone, but she would support her friend from the outside, doing whatever she could. Whether that meant looking through old texts on the subject, or gathering ingredients to somehow transfer to Fera, she would do it. Perhaps, she would also talk to Professor Dumbledore or, better yet, Professor Snape. The knowledgable wizard seemed to have a lot of information on Soul Books that she wanted to extract from him. He seemed convinced that Fera was a lost cause, but that didn't matter. She would just have to get him to change his mind.
On her lap, Fera began to stir. Her blue eyes blinked opened, her gaze still bleary and unfocused. A pleased sigh left Hermione. She stood carefully, helping the still shaken woman to her feet, grabbing her elbow when she teetered to the left.
"How long was I unconscious?" Fera asked in a rusty voice.
"About an hour," Hermione replied, snaking an arm around her mentor's waist. With cautious steps, the two witches walked out of the room, leaving the mirror and their temporary setback behind them.
"The butterfly wings."
"Pardon?" Hermione turned to her partner, puzzled.
"The butterfly wings. I ground them into a fine powder, then created a paste with it, only"─Fera paused to catch her breath─"only I used rose oil as a base for the paste. I should have used Sage Dew, and─"
Hermione interrupted her with a quiet, "Fera." She placed a calming hand on her friend's shoulder. "Leave it for now. You won't do yourself or your work any favors at the moment. Rest first, get your head together, then go back to your lab."
Stopping in front of a window, the blonde heaved a great sigh. "You are right. I know it." Suddenly, she grabbed Hermione's shoulders in a fierce grip, her eyes pleading and desperate. "But Hermione, I'm so close! I can feel it!"
Hermione had a response prepared and ready to fall from her lips, when something astonishing, shimmering on Fera's clenched hands, caught her attention. She blinked, then blinked again, wondering if her tired eyes were playing tricks, but no! It was really there. She looked out the window, her heart squeezing in her chest at the amazing, miraculous sight.
"Fera, look outside!" Hermione exclaimed, her voice shaking with emotions. "Please tell me that I'm not going crazy and you're seeing the same thing I am."
"Hermione, what are you─" There was a trembling gasp. "Is that─is that…?"
Hermione finished her sentence. "The moon."
It hung in the sky. A luminescent quarter moon crescent, surrounded by a spattering of twinkling stars. To anyone else, the sight would have been commonplace, one mundane picture among many, but for the two women who had gone so long without the soft, caressing light against their skin, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Hermione was the first to break the silence. When she spoke, her voice was full of awe. "Your potion. It worked, or at least it's really close." She was practically bubbling with excitement.
Beside her, Fera was immobile, except for the smallest quivering in her jaw. A steady stream of tears were silently trailing down her cheeks. Her owlishly widened eyes had yet to blink, as if she were afraid that if her eyelids closed, for even the briefest second, the picture before her would suddenly disappear.
It was then Hermione remembered that this was the first time Fera had seen a moon in close to eight hundred years, making her own two years without the glowing orb look positively laughable. The luminescent brilliance had probably become nothing more than an abstract concept to the witch a long time ago. A fairy tale to remember on long nights.
And yet, here it was now, gazing down at them so innocently, no longer abstract, but very real. A symbol of their progress, and the triumph that was so close, they could almost taste it.
With a knowing smile, Hermione's small arm came up to wrap around Fera's shoulders in a comforting squeeze. For now, she held her tongue, willing her questions away for the moment, so she could bask in this small victory with her friend in companionable silence.
Together the two spent the rest of the night by the window, silently watching the long overdue sight of night bleed away to the pale pink and purple streaks of dawn. Hope bloomed within them for the first time in a very long while.
A/N: Alright, that's another chapter down. Hope you enjoyed it, and please, take some time to send some feedback. I'd love to hear comments or questions :)
Next Chapter: Severus and Hermione's reunion on the Astral Plane and-dun, dun, dun...Hermione's return to the real world!
'Til next time