Chapter 8: Pagan Poetry

Severus brewed a pot of coffee, slowly and methodically. While he was waiting for the foam to rise, he glanced occasionally at Miss Granger. She was eating her breakfast obediently. The girl was much more subdued than he had remembered her. As much as he used to complain about her incessant chatter, in some ways he missed the crackling energy that used to surround her. She still had it; it was evident from her last remark to him. If something could bring out the overexcited first-year student in Hermione Granger, it was the chance of learning something new.

He glanced at the pot and quickly pulled it away from the fire. He had to teach her how to Wield, and he had done that only once before. She had also been a vibrant, lively girl, with a profound love for knowledge and respect for life. He had taught her, wishing to share this beautiful secret with her, to cement their friendship. He still believed that had sealed her fate. He glanced down at his trembling hands and cursed quietly. Get a hold of yourself—you can do it. History doesn't have to repeat itself.

Quiet steps approached him from behind.

'I am ready to begin, sir.'

He carefully poured the jet-black coffee into two thick mugs and turned around. She was staring at him earnestly, biting her lip, clearly anxious. He thrust one of the mugs into her hands and pointed at the bench.

'Sit!' She flinched slightly and he realised that his nervousness was making his tone too harsh. 'Please.'

Hermione sat carefully and sipped on her coffee. Severus sat next to her and contemplated his own mug for a moment, thinking about the best way to start.

'Give me your hand, Miss Granger.' She startled at first, and then slowly slipped her small hand into his. It was warm; she had always thought he would be cold and clammy.

'Now close your eyes, and think. Think about all the invisible processes that make a living being alive. Imagine life as a current that flows through my body.'

She closed her eyes and frowned slightly in concentration.

'Now, try to feel it with your fingertips. It is there, you just have to reach.'

She frowned deeper until a radiant smile smoothed her features, at the exact moment he felt her make contact.

'It is incredible…it feels as if my fingers are submerged in something, yet I can feel them touching your skin.' She giggled slightly. 'It tickles.'

Severus felt a stab in his heart. She had said the exact same thing.

'Yes,' he said softly, 'it tickles. It feels similar to touching memories in a Pensieve.'

Her brow furrowed. 'Maybe. I wouldn't know, I have never used one.'

'I think that is enough. Now release my hand, slowly.'

When she started to draw away, she felt a strange sensation—as if the gentle current surged in her direction, unwilling to let go. She dropped his hand and they both felt the connection break. She opened her eyes and stared at her hand with wonder.

'Is it always so easy? I thought it would be hard.'

'It is easier with a living creature, because the current is structured. When you connect to the pool, it is chaotic, amorphous, going in all directions, and all too eager to be used. The hard thing about Wielding is learning to control it, Miss Granger.'

She looked doubtful and Severus sighed.

'I suppose you will have to see for yourself. Sit on the ground, it will be easier.'

Hermione obeyed and lowered herself to the grass a few meters away from the bench.

'When you touch the ground, reach with your mind the way you did with me. You are going to have the same sensation of touching a fluid, but the tickling will be intensified. Life does not like staying idle; it wants to be channelled. You will need to block that, because now you are conscious of your powers. If you don't learn to block, flowers will be sprouting around you every time you sit down on the ground.'

Hermione pressed her fingertips into the soil. She imagined the current and reached. Suddenly, there was a wild, bordering on painful tingling in her hand and she felt the connection. This time, it was not a gentle flow; it was a wild and stormy ocean. She realized what Snape meant when he said it was too eager. It was seeping through her like liquid through a straw, looking for something to ground itself into. She tried to push down, but it was too strong and she started to panic, because she couldn't break the contact. Then she felt another presence in the current. It reached around her somehow and neatly cut the flow.

Hermione opened her eyes and saw the sky. Then something moved beneath her with a groan and she gasped in horror. Scrambling off Snape, she tried to help him up, apologizing profusely. He held up his hand.

'It's not your fault, Miss Granger. I had to pull you away physically as well, so when I cut the contact, we were both thrown back.'

He stood up and walked over to the table to pick up his coffee, bringing along hers as well. She just stared at the patch of flowers that her uncontrolled attempt had produced.

'We shall need to train extensively, Miss Granger. You are very strong and you will need practice and discipline to control the flow.'

'How…how can anyone control this? Wouldn't controlling a hurricane would be easier?'

'You need to learn restraint, Miss Granger. Your Gryffindor personality makes you rush into everything with all your heart and soul.'

Hermione bristled, ready to argue, but Severus held up his hand.

'I did not mean it as an insult, I merely stated the reason you found it hard to block. You just rushed into an enormous pool of life force with all your enthusiasm. It is natural that it rushed right back at you.'

She looked down, chastened. She was too used to hearing the word 'Gryffindor' only as a derogatory comment from his mouth. Old habits die hard.

'When you released my hand before, did you feel something unusual?'

She raised her eyes sharply.

'Yes, I meant to ask you. It was as if…my fingers were sticky. It didn't want to let go.'

'There is your answer. Life has an affinity to life. When you connect to the pool, you had created a channel for the wild, uncontained life force. If you hurl yourself in without thinking, you would create a huge gate, which is very hard to close. You need to hold back, to keep the channel small. Then, you let only a trickle pass through. A trickle is easy to direct, a flood is uncontrollable.'

Hermione sighed.

'I understand, Professor. It seems I have a lot to learn. How did you manage to break the connection?'

His face tightened and he answered curtly.

'You are not the first I had to teach. I have had to become an expert on flood management.'

He rose from the bench and stared into space.

'That was enough for today, Miss Granger. You should go home and rest. I suggest that we meet again during the weekend, so please owl me with details. I will ask you to keep this a secret, even from your friends. Wielding is considered one of the Dark Arts; I wouldn't want either of us ending up in Azkaban.'

Hermione nodded and rose as well.

'I realise that, Professor. I will keep quiet. Could I have your permission to Apparate here when we meet next? Floo travel is not my favourite mode of transportation.'

Severus smirked, remembering her tumble out of his fireplace.

'In this, I share your opinion. You may Apparate the next time. Farewell, Miss Granger.'

'Goodbye, Professor.' She stood up straight and prepared to Apparate, when his voice stopped her.

'One moment, Miss Granger. Are you still in contact with Mr. Krum?'

She nodded, wondering what he meant by such a question. He rubbed his chin in thought.

'Speaking to him about this would be safe, if you feel the need.'

'Professor, we have an agreement! I am not going to blab everything to someone, I can keep a secret!' She looked truly hurt.

'I know that. Nevertheless, I meant to say that I believe Mr. Krum has an open mind about this. Go ahead and tell him. You will understand when you speak to him.'

Hermione just stared at him for a moment and then Apparated, without saying a word.

Arriving in the flat, Hermione shed her jacket and threw herself on her bed, deep in thought. Again, she looked at her fingers with awe. It was an unbelievable sensation; she finally understood the serene look that had surprised her on Snape's face. She also understood better the text she had read about Wielding. She had literally touched the miracle of life with her own bare fingertips. How could anyone even contemplate killing when life felt so wonderful? She thought about Graolf and shuddered. It was inconceivable that someone could use something so pure to create the Killing Curse.

Hermione rubbed her temples. All the loose information in her brain made her head ache. She remembered Snape's words about Viktor and decided to talk to him. She walked over to her flatmate's closed door and knocked quietly. A minute later, he opened the door with a big smile.

'Hello there, I didn't know you were back. Come in and tell me what happened with Snape.'

She walked around him and sat down on the bed, chewing her lip. She didn't know quite how to begin. Viktor sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

'Hey, is everything all right? Was he mean to you?'

'No, no, nothing like that. He just told me some things that are hard to digest. And he told me I should speak to you about it.'

Viktor relaxed visibly and urged her on.

'Well come on, say it. It can't be that bad.'

Hermione took a deep breath and asked, 'Does the word "Wielding" mean anything to you?'

Viktor immediately stiffened and withdrew his arm from her shoulder as if burnt.

'Yes. I know it is something you shouldn't speak about. We don't use the same word in Bulgaria, but it isn't safe nevertheless. And I don't see what business he had telling you about it.' He looked angry and worried.

Hermione wrenched her hand in her lap.

'Well…he did actually…because I can do it. I didn't even know until today. He said I could speak to you, that you would understand, but apparently, he was wrong. I'm sorry, forget I ever mentioned it.'

Viktor stared at her in amazement.

'You are…you are one of the Ancients?'

'Umm…if that is what you call it.'

He stood up and started pacing the room. The he stopped abruptly and stared at her.

'I would never tell on you, though I don't know how Snape knew. But you should never, under any circumstances, speak to anyone about this. Do you understand, Hermione?'

Taken aback by his fierceness, she nodded quickly.

'Yes, Viktor, I know. He told me as much himself, I also read an old document. It said that Wielders were hunted down and killed, and it is still considered Dark Arts.'

Viktor growled and sat next to her again. Taking a deep breath, he took her hands and looked into her eyes.

'I am going to tell you a story and you will understand why I am so worried about this. When I was a little boy, my great-grandfather was still alive. He was a very good man, always smiling. He used to read stories to me and my cousins, he sang all the time. The thing about him was that he didn't have both his hands from the wrists down.'

Hermione gasped in shock. Viktor continued on.

'When we asked, everyone told us that Great-Grandpa had lost his hands in some war because of frostbite. We believed that he was a Muggle then. He was very old, but longevity is common in these parts. Only after he died, when I was older, my father told me the truth. My great-grandfather had been a Wielder and he had been caught. At that time, there was no death penalty. A Wielder's power was believed to come from the hands…so they cut them off.'

Viktor looked very angry by then and started to pace the room again.

'My father explained everything to me, about the Ancients and how they were revered in the old days. He told me about Graolf and his curse, about the hunts.' His lips curled in disgust. 'Wizards hunting other wizards…is shameful. It turned out that I come from a long line of Wielders, Hermione, though my grandfather, the one who Grindelwald killed, was the last one. Anyway, my father thought it was the right thing to tell me. This is how I know about it, and why I know it must be kept very quiet.'

Hermione absent-mindedly wiped the tears from her eyes, stood up, and embraced her friend.

'I understand. I'm sorry I brought this up, I didn't mean to.'

'Oh, they aren't painful. The old man was happy and he managed well enough without his hands. He had a big and loving family to take care of him. It just makes me angry that the old stupid laws still exist and you could be punished for being gifted such a wonderful gift.'

Viktor returned her embrace and murmured in her hair, 'Please, promise that you will be careful.'

She squeezed him tightly and whispered, 'I promise!'

He released her and smiled.

'I suppose you will be fine, you are a smart girl. Enough old tales; now tell me what really happened with Snape. How did he know you were an Ancient, and how does he know about them anyway?'

So Hermione told him all about her strange day, leaving out no details. When she finished, Viktor smiled fondly at her.

'He said you were very strong, huh?'

She nodded. Viktor ruffled her hair affectionately, earning an indignant squeal.

'Hermione Granger, you really are something. When you do something, you just have to excel, don't you? No, leave my pillow alone, I thought you are supposed to be all grown up and sophisticated. Now go get some rest, I can see that you are knackered. We will talk about it later again, if you want to.'

Hermione had to agree, so she went to her own room and snuggled in bed for an afternoon nap. She couldn't wait to see Snape again for another lesson. She also started her classes next week. It seemed she was going to have her hands full. Well, tell me something new, was her last thought before she drifted off.

A/N: Many thanks to Gryffindor_Slytherin for beta reading and to everyone who left a review. This chapter's title belongs to Bjork