Chapter 6: His Silent World

Today was her first official day as Harry's nursemaid. The day before had been spent unpacking and then saying a somewhat tearful goodbye to Remus. Hermione had begun the day optimistically enough. She had roused herself in time to catch Mrs. Figg carrying Harry's breakfast tray to his room. "Good morning, Mrs. Figg," Hermione said cheerfully.

The dear, old woman smiled at her. "Miss Granger, it is bound to be a wonderful day. I can't tell you how pleased I am that you've decided to stay on. Harry needs someone—though I daresay it—far younger than I am and far softer than the lord."

Holding back her laughter, Hermione moved along side the housekeeper. Soft was quite possibly the last word that Hermione could think of to describe the dark, brooding nobleman. "Lord Snape has been very generous with Harry."

"Oh, why yes! Lord Snape may have his dark manner, but he is a very good man. I doubt one man in a thousand would be as caring to the boy as he is. I've known the lord since he was naught but a boy. His mother was a distant cousin to my late husband, Thomas, you see. I could tell stories for hours about his lordship's youth for days. Oh, and the late Lady Snape…now there was a woman with dignity!" Mrs. Figg laughed. "Child, it will be very nice to have someone to talk to in this drafty old house."

Hermione smiled. "I am glad to be here, Mrs. Figg."

The women stopped before the door to Harry's bedchamber. "I sent Seamus in earlier to help Harry dress. If you don't object, I don't see any reason why Seamus shouldn't assist the boy with bathing and dressing," Mrs. Figg proposed as she knocked on the door.

"I quite agree," Hermione replied with a blush creeping to her cheeks. Though she had seen little boys naked before, Harry was too near her own age for such liberties to be taken.

A round faced, young man—Seamus, Hermione assumed—opened the door. "Good morning, Mrs. Figg. Miss Granger. Harry is dressed," he said with a slight brogue.

"Thank you, Seamus." Mrs. Figg set the tray upon the table.

At his dismissal, Seamus wasted no time exiting.

Harry was seated on the floor with the hatbox Hermione had given him the day before, examining his possessions. He didn't notice the two women as Mrs. Figg set the try on the small table.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said cheerily. She crouched down in front of him. "Harry, it's time for breakfast."

Harry grinned at her and offered her a pretty pebble from his box. Behind her, Mrs. Figg laughed. "Child, you must realize that Harry doesn't understand." The older woman grasped Harry by the arm and led him to the table.

Hermione frowned at the housekeeper. "He could. I'm sure Harry can learn at the very least to help himself with a few tasks."

"Too optimistic, I'm afraid. I have been with the boy since Lord Snape brought him here, and I can tell you quite honestly that I have seen two year olds with a greater grasp on the King's English." Mrs. Figg tsked gently. "He's such a gentle soul, but Miss Granger, you cannot expect miracles."

Having seen Harry eat the day before, Hermione was not shocked by Harry's lack of table manners. It no longer surprised her that he disdained fork and spoon nor that he didn't seem to notice the porridge dribbling down his chin. She took a linen cloth and wiped the mess from his face. "Miracles, I think not," Hermione agreed. "An improvement is all I am hoping for."

"Well, don't wear yourself out with such," Mrs. Figg said wearily. "I will see have a maid bring luncheon up at noon."

Hermione Granger had long prided herself on her intelligence. She had received flawless marks in school, and she had, over the years, read a number of books that would have seemed staggering to even the most dedicated of scholars. Sharing knowledge was something that she felt came quite naturally to her. There hadn't been the slightest amount of doubt in her mind when she made her deal with Lord Snape, but now, as she watched Harry lolling on the grassy hill ignoring her pleas to come sit, she felt a sense of near defeat.

"Harry," she called once more, "please come and sit with me." The young man did nothing of the sort. He was far too busy examining a leaf to be bothered with learning. The pair had been outside for the better part of the day. It had been Hermione's misguided idea that a bit of fresh air would help Harry learn. She soon realized that he was easily distracted by the nature around him to focus on the flash cards.

The sky above them was beginning to darken, and Hermione did not like the looks of the clouds. She sighed. "Come along, Harry," she said touching the boy's shoulder.

Harry shook his head and frowned.

"Harry, it is time to go in," she told him sternly. Hermione made an attempt to grasp his arm, but he pulled back.

"Nuh!"

Hermoine was so taken aback that all she could do was stare. Had she imagined it? "Harry, we are going inside," she demanded, pointing to the house.

Stomping his foot, Harry shook his head. "Nuh!"

"Do you mean "no"?" she asked. Harry looked confused. He obviously didn't understand her. Hermione tried a different approach. She shook her head. "No?"

Understanding lit on his features as he repeated the gesture. "Nuh," he said.

Hermione laughed. She was so elated that Harry had actually spoken that she no longer was irritated by his refusal to come inside. She spread out her skirts and sat back down on the grass. "Well then, Harry," she said still laughing, "we are about to get wet."

It was no more than five minutes after Hermione had sat back down that the heavens opened upon them. Rain fell in buckets rather than drops. Thoroughly soaked, Harry gave Hermione a mournful glance—as though he realized that he should have headed her pleas to return. He took Hermione by the hand and ran to the safety of the house.

Once inside, Hermione was immediately set upon by Mrs. Figg baring warm blankets. "Oh, heavens! Haven't you the sense to come out of the rain!" the matron cried as she wrapped a blanket about Hermione's shoulders.

"I tried to tell him that we should come inside, but then something wonderful happened," Hermione began.

"And just what, might I ask, is so wonderful about nearly drowning yourself and your charge on your very first day?" Lord Snape appeared without warning from the door to his study. Leaning on the doorframe, he had the ominous presence of one of the storm clouds that had loomed above.

Straightening herself, Hermione refused to be intimidated. "Harry spoke his first word."

"Indeed." Lord Snape frowned. "Mrs. Figg, take Harry upstairs and have Seamus see to him. Perhaps bring him some tea. It wouldn't do to have Lupin return so soon after his departure. Miss Granger, you will come to my study as soon as you are changed."

Hermione did as she was told, though she was nearly bursting with rage. Lord Snape had managed to convey more sarcasm and disbelief into a mere word than she had heard from even the sourest of malcontents. How dare he imply that she was lying! Of all the stubborn, block-headed, narrow minded, high handed…. The list of insults Hermione wished to heap on the lord was simply too long to name. She contented herself to merelymuttering to herself that she and Harry would prove him wrong. Feeling surprisingly defiant, Hermione decided to take a detour on the way to Lord Snape's study.

Knocking on Harry's door, Hermione was once again greeted by Seamus. "Miss Granger, I thought you'd be with the laird," he said with his eyes slightly wide. "It isn't wise to get 'im too riled."

Hermione forced a smile. "I thought that I would check on Harry first. Is he decent?"

Seamus shrugged. "As decent as he will let me get him. Won't let me put 'is shoes on or button his shirt."

"I will see what I can do," she assured him.

Bathed in the flashes of lightening, Harry stood staring out the window with a mixture of fear and of awe alight on his features. Hermione was forced to wonder when the last time Harry had seen a storm or been caught in the rain. Just how long had he been locked away in that stall? A tremendous crash of thunder shook the house. Hermione couldn't help but jump a bit when it sounded, and at first she expected Harry to be frightened. Instead, he stared in wonder at the floorboards. Tentatively, he reached out his fingers to the window. As more thunder rumbled, Harry simply stared at his flattened palms across the glass.

"What's he doin'?" Seamus asked mystified.

Hermione couldn't answer. Her throat tightened as she began to consider whether it was the sound or the feel of the thunder that had him so enraptured. "Harry," she called. "Harry!" This time a bit louder.

Seamus looked at her as though she were going mad. "He never answers when he's called," he said plainly.

Hermione shook her head. "No, he doesn't. Have you ever seen him react to sound?" she asked.

"Sound?" Seamus repeated. "Just what are you getting' at?"

Only one way to test this, she thought picking up a delicate teacup. With as much force as she could muster, Hermione threw the cup at the floor. The shattering glass provided an echoing crash. She didn't doubt for a second that Lord Snape could hear it from below. Still—watching Harry remain unmoving—Hermione was almost positive that the boy standing just a few feet away had not heard it. The truth felt like a cannon ball dropped onto her stomach.

"You've lost your bloomin' mind!" Seamus roared.

Calmly, Hermione strode to Harry's side and touched his shoulder. His eyes met hers. He looked at her with mild curiosity. Harry grasped her wrist and placed it on the windowpane as he had done. He was trying to share his discovery with her. In that instant, Hermione realized just how foolish they had all been.

"Yes, that's thunder," she told him as she held back tears. She knew that Harry couldn't hear her and didn't understand what she was trying to say, but that the moment there was nothing she could do for that. Hermione sidestepped the broken teacup as she made her way to the table. She motioned for Harry to follow, which he did obediently. When she pulled out a chair and pointed to it, he sat.

Seamus muttered to himself as he watched. "How'd you do that?"

"It's simple," Hermione answered with a shrug. "He can't hear. If he can see what you want, he understands."

"I don't envy you tellin' the lord that," Seamus groaned.

At that very moment, neither Seamus nor Hermione knew how true those words would prove. Lord Snape was trying to remain patient as the clocked ticked damningly away. Miss Granger's procrastination was only raising his ire. Had he not instructed the girl to come to his study directly? It did not matter. She was to be dismissed as soon as she came down. He should have known better than to make such a bargain with the chit. Still, he had not expected Miss Granger to sink as low as to lie to win the bet. Severus snorted at the very idea that in one day's time Miss Granger could have the boy speaking. It was ridiculous! How dare the girl insult his intelligence by spouting such nonsense!

Just when he had about made up his mind to drag Miss Granger downstairs by force, she appeared in the doorway. Her skin was pale and tears ran freely down her cheeks. Severus stiffened. If she thought that she could ply such shameless, female tactics on him, she was sorely mistaken. "I am so glad that you decided to join me," he drawled acerbically.

"My lord, I discovered something about Harry," she said through her tears.

"Is this another ruse of yours to win our wager?" he asked flatly.

Miss Granger's eyes glittered with animosity. "You honestly think that I would do something like that? On second thought, don't answer. I have already realized that you are too self-absorbed and heartless to see anything that you do not wish to see. Why should I bother listening to your accusations about me?"

He shot out of his chair. "Miss Granger, you are treading on dangerous ground," he warned. No one, not even Victoria, had been so bold as to insult him outright in years.

"It is simply easier for you to believe that Harry is as Dursley told you—that he is dull witted. And what use educating him? No, it is just easier to find someone to pawn him off on." Miss Granger's face was now red with fury. New tears were falling as she spoke. "Can't you even see that he is trying desperately to communicate?"

"You will explain yourself," Severus demanded through clenched teeth. Every drop of his blood was seething. He was very close to actually harming the vile creature before him. Years ago, on the night Remus had left him, Severus had torn a room at the local inn to shreds. The anger he had felt then was now being eclipsed a thousand times over.

Chin held high, Miss Granger looked him straight in the eye. "Harry is deaf."

"You're lying!"

"I wouldn't lie."

"Oh, no?" Severus shot back. "You are an ambitious young woman."

"And you are supposed to be a scientist," Miss Granger spat.

Severus glared at her. "Exactly how does that pertain to the current argument?"

"Easy," Miss Granger replied. "You are supposed to be able to formulate an answer by looking at the evidence around you. Did it never occur to you that Harry never even turns his head to a sound? That he is quite willing to please when he simply understands what is being asked of him?"

This gave Severus pause. His mind began to reconstruct all of the times he had been with the boy, and no, he could not remember Harry ever reacting to a sound. Suddenly, he recalled how Harry had not even looked down as the pot had shattered at his feet just two nights ago. And it had been Hagrid's movements that lured Harry from his prison, not his words. Severus felt the Earth shift beneath his feet, and he fell back into his chair. "Have you tested your theory?"

"I called his name several times, and when that did not work, I threw a cup. He didn't even start at the noise. Harry reacts quite well to movements. It would stand to reason—if he could hear—he would react to sounds, as well," she said logically.

"I heard the crash," Severus confirmed as he buried his head in his hands. "I assumed Harry had broken something. You honestly believe this?"

"I do."

Severus sank into his chair. At this point, he no longer doubted Miss Granger's theory. Only one thing remained. "Did Harry truly speak?" he asked.

Miss Granger nodded. "I tired to take him inside before the storm hit, and Harry said "no." It wasn't very clear at first, but if Harry can't hear, that would seem reasonable."

"I will want proof of all of this," Severus said in a strained voice. "You are dismissed, Miss Granger. Go see to Harry."

Severus barely heard Miss Granger's reply. His mind was abuzz with regret. How was it that this mere girl had seen what he had not? Perhaps, Miss Granger had been right. It had been easy to assume that Dursley had been telling the truth about Harry's mental state. Had Dursley even known that Harry was deaf? Most likely not. He—much like Severus had—probably had simply never taken the time to find out. Severus knew that this was one more black mark against his soul.