Snape's return to Hogwarts had not been as gracious or as welcoming as Hermione's had been. Minerva McGonagall was perfectly kind and hired him on the spot, but it tore at Severus that she looked at him as she would a stranger, and continued to do so every time they met. Severus wasn't sure he would be able to handle things for much longer, but he needed Albus Dumbledore's Pensieve and the potions labs and ingredients for personal research so he stayed, painful as it was.
Severus Snape looked over the castle grounds from his perch on the Eastern turret of the Astronomy Tower. It had the best view of the forest and lake, especially as the sun came up. Severus spent a lot of sunrises musing on his life, and why he had come back to the place of greatest failures. Coming back to Hogwarts had been almost as painful as leaving had been. If he had known then, what would happen when Hermione Granger had "rescued" him he would have immediately gone back to the battlefield and done whatever he had to do to get the Dark Lord to kill him. He snorted a laugh and leaned his head back against the rough stone of the turret and thought back on the past year and little more it had been since the Final Battle.
Finding himself in Hermione Granger's parents' garden should have been the biggest shock of that day. Certainly being cursed by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters was no surprise, and it wasn't like he truly wanted to die, he was just ready for it all to be over. Of course, he should have known that disappearing from the battle was just the start. So Severus took advantage of the little Know-It-All's amnesia to sneak away and disappear for good. Leaving his two Master's behind, at least one of them dead, had been something Severus couldn't pass up and he ignored the little niggle of guilt that he felt, as he made his escape. The shock of being free at last had faded quickly, and Severus had reveled in his anonymity in the beginning as he travelled the world like he had never been able to before. He took in everything almost manically, terrified it would end as soon as he woke from whatever dream he was having. The reality of his situation ultimately began to wear on the man and there was nothing left to do but return home and try to fix things.
The Potions master scoffed as he stared off towards the lightening sky where the sun was beginning to reach its rays. "Amnesia, I should have known THAT was too easy an explanation," he muttered aloud.
No, it wasn't as simple as that. Hermione Granger didn't have amnesia. Severus Snape just didn't exist any longer. Well, he did exist, just not to anyone living or dead except himself and his soul mate. His thrice bedamned master and his penchant for drama had left Severus in limbo... literally. The spell that the Dark Lord had used didn't kill or maim, it just rendered the cursed soul forgotten, completely removed from the memories and knowledge of everyone who knew him. He wasn't even a memory in his student's nightmares any longer. No matter how many times he was introduced to someone, as soon as he was out of sight of that person, he was forgotten again like he never existed. After a few months of wandering and searching for a counter curse, punctuated by the pain of being completely alone had led him to the only place he could find an answer.
The curse on Severus had made returning to Hogwarts and teaching a tad difficult, but he worked his way through it. After several months of re-introducing himself every time he entered a room or had a class, Severus took a page from Professor Binns and set up an elaborate ruse to teach in peace and to avoid staff meetings. The Potions classroom was now haunted by an ancient professor who was so protective of his territory, Hogwarts staff steered clear, and the students only went to the dungeons during class time where they found the days lesson on the board, and the necessary ingredients for brewing in the student cupboard. It had been a long first year back, but as in every task, Severus endured. And it was there at Hogwarts, that he finally found the curse he had been hit with, and it was there that he began to realise there would never be a counter.
All of the dunderheads had returned to Hogwarts a month prior, and with them the dreams. It had been at least a year since these particular dreams had haunted his sleep. The strange nightmares had returned, filled with a gut-wrenching sense of loss, of seeking some tangible thing just out of reach. Severus, becoming agitated in his sleep, jerked fitfully awake. He rolled frantically out of bed, burning his feet on the frigid stone floor as he hurried into the loo. Staggering to the sink, he muttered a quiet "Lumos" to light the room. Severus proceeded to splash his face with cool water trying to quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Propping himself on one hand, Severus dragged the other through his hair and stared at his haggard visage in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes and dark circles mocked the Potions master as he was tormented by the visions wildly churning through his mind and the absolute knowledge that some part of him was missing and he had no idea of what or where it was. Knowing there was no use in remaining in front of the mirror, Severus returned to bed needing to rest, but dreading what he knew would come when he closed his eyes. With a harsh sigh, he rolled onto his side, punched his pillow into more of a submissive pose and resolutely shut his eyes. Once again, he was dragged into slumber to dance with the spectres of his dreams.
A thick fog swirled around him as he moved blindly forward reaching for something desperately. He was reaching, reaching, always reaching for something just beyond his fingertips. In despair, he fell to his knees, both hands tugging at his hair as he choked back a sob. That is when he heard her. The whisper tantalised his ears, teasing his senses. The whisper brought a clearing of the fog, and glimpses of long hair and robes.
"Severus? Severus, where are you? I need to find you... I need you. Severus? Severus, where are you?"
"Lily?"
The name was groaned from a place deep within his chest, pulled into a painfully pleading question.
"My Lily..."
As soon as the words left his lips the fog overtook him, thicker than ever, and he was fighting it again, desperation once again overwhelming him. He was lost in the gloom, never hearing the mournful sigh that followed him as he blindly searched his dream.
"Oh, Severus... "
Hermione jolted awake, sitting straight up in her bed, a name on her lips. She pressed her trembling hands to her chest and focused on controlling her breathing. After a few minutes, her breathing had slowed and she fell back onto her pillows. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax again to sleep. She needed her rest to keep up with her classes and apprenticeship. Unfortunately, Hermione knew it wouldn't be that simple. The dreams had begun again.
Just after the Final Battle, Hermione had awoken in her parent's living room. She couldn't remember why she was there, only that she had been Portkeyed from Hogwarts and it had something to do with a request by Professor Dumbledore. It hadn't taken very long for the Order to locate her, and she was brought back to Grimmauld Place a heroine. The whole incident had been so strange, but no one ever questioned her or asked what really happened because the Boy Who Lived adamantly declared that Hermione's actions had been the distraction he and Ron had needed to finally defeat Voldemort. Before the day was through, Hermione's disappearance from the battlefield was being portrayed as having been planned, so no one had been surprised it had happened. Even now, more than a year later, Hermione herself couldn't have told what was the actual truth.
But for several months after the defeat of Voldemort, Hermione was plagued with terrible dreams. They were all similar. Nothing, not even Dreamless Sleep would suppress them. The dreams were all thick fog and whispers and the smell of green herbs and Sweet Woodruff. Hermione would find herself lost in the swirling mist looking for someone. She would call his name, begging him to answer, to find her and she could hear a masculine voice, but she could never find him. She never remembered his name when she awoke and this time was no different.
As Hermione drifted back into Morpheus' embrace, she realised there WAS something different this time... she had gotten close enough to see who she was looking for. He was on his knees, but before she could touch him, the fog swirled her away again.
Aside from the nightly dreams cutting into her sleep, the term was going well and classes were wonderful. Hermione was once again in her element - studying, tutoring, and in general just being a swot. She had laid claim to a table in the library where she spent every waking moment not in class. She had scheduled plenty of study time for herself, but had also added in personal time. She didn't want to get burnt out like she had her sixth year and she had found by accident that she didn't dream if she took a small nap during the day. She was determined to have the highest grades possible so as not to end up in a situation like she had been in with the Ministry, but she had matured enough to know not to run herself into the ground. Hermione was finally ready to admit that equal rights for all magical creatures was not something the Wizarding World was ready for on either side of the coin, so now she was determined to become the best Charms teacher she could be.
Hermione was perusing the stacks in the library, looking for a tertiary source for her latest Potions essay when she found it. Pulling out a particularly heavy tome, Hermione noticed that there was something wedged into the corner of the case the book rested in. Standing on her tiptoes, she fished out a pamphlet. It was obviously old, ancient even, bound in cracked leather and delicate to touch. The title was painted in faded gold paint, but was still somewhat legible. Dreames Between the Soules it read. Suddenly, a flash of the fog-filled night she dreamed of struck Hermione, and she clasped the tiny book close. Hurrying back to her table, she slipped the book into her bag, looking around furtively before returning to her work. She would read her find when she regained the privacy of her quarters.