Spinner’s End and Dream’s Beginning
Snape staggered into the small sitting-room and slumped down on the one piece of furniture that had escaped the wreckage. His old, threadbare sofa. Now soot-blackened it looked even worse for wear.
He didn’t look at his beloved books, torn and burned, leaves and spines scattered on the floor.
Of course his wards hadn’t held. Raging Death Eaters had taken out their wrath over their defeat on his property. It was a fucking miracle that he wasn’t able to stuff the remains of his house into a matchbox.
Not that he cared. It was not as if he had any good memories of this place.
Memories—his stomach heaved as his mind rolled with the newly restored memories. Bile rose from his stomach. He mustn’t give in to that impulse. He would choke.
It would be so easy to give in, to allow himself to suffocate and die. He gagged.
No. Not that way. If there was one thing he wanted less than for his miserable existence to continue beyond the fateful door of a prison-cell in Azkaban three years hence, it was for this existence to continue ad aeternam.
If only because he really preferred black robes to the pearly silver habit of ghosts. No, if he was to escape from this hell, he would have to keep his wits together.
Control your breathing. Concentrate on your diaphragm. Measured, shallow breaths. Relax. Count the seconds. The calm voice of Healer—no, she wasn’t a Healer—of Mrs. Petrel echoed in his mind.
Slowly the seconds ticked by. Gradually the urge to vomit faded, leaving him spent and weak. His head pounded.
The memories had been purified completely. He had to admit that he was grateful for that. Looking at his miserable memories with the eyes of Harry bloody Potter might have killed him and brought him back as a ghost instantly. But because the memories had been cleansed that also meant they did not contain the signature of his thoughts anymore. So now they felt alien and painful in his mind. As if iron spikes had been rammed into his brain.
And oh God, oh God…Why hadn’t he simply refused those memories? After all, there was nothing even remotely good or pleasant about them. Why had he insisted on getting back what was his, when he knew that it was impossible to truly return to him what he had given away in that moment of weakness, when he knew that whatever he’d get back wouldn’t really be his memories anymore, when half the wizarding world shared those memories with him now?
What a fool he was, what a fucking fool. But fortune really did favour fools, apparently.
The purification process had worked and now everything was back in place. Back out of place. Whatever.
He balled his hands into fists, fighting down the cramps that gripped his stomach again.
Potter, Bloody Potter, why couldn’t you have let them sentence me to death?
And Hermione Clueless Granger, why couldn’t you stop to think just once in your life?
oooOooo
Hermione Clueless Granger was finishing up a tour of Hogwarts Castle in the dungeons. ‘This is the Potions classroom. I’m currently conducting some experiments in here. I hope they may convince Professor Snape that it’s not the most awful thing in the universe to take me on as his apprentice.’ ‘Why would he think that?’ Lois asked. She was walking along the shelves and staring full of fascination at the many glasses, phials and bottles, with their colourful powders, glittering liquids and strange shapes.
‘Well, he didn’t much care for my attitude when I was his student.’
‘Why? I can’t imagine you being anything but studious and brilliant.’ Lois stepped next to Hermione, looking intrigued at the cauldrons on the table in front of her.
Hermione sighed. ‘I didn’t understand that for a long time. But I guess I was just too…eager…I kept disrupting the pace he’d set for his lessons. And he—he is someone who would very much prefer to be in complete control of everything.’
‘Being magic affords you a much greater control of things, I’d imagine,’ Lois suggested.
Hermione grimaced. ‘Not necessarily. It’s…more something personal, I think. Anyway, here’s what I’m working on at the moment—basically it’s Muggle homeopathy with a little ‘extra’. I’m trying to use magic very sparingly to make the potions easier on the system. Before hanging around at St. Mungo’s so much I really had no idea of how bad magical side effects can be …’
‘That makes a lot of sense, Hermione. How are your experiments coming along?’
Hermione sighed and crease appeared between her eyebrows. ‘Uh…I’m not sure. I feel so fucking clueless all the time. I’m just not used to experimenting. Do you know that I always dreamed of that when I was younger? Experimenting. Doing something new and creative.
‘But now…it’s hard for me to think beyond my textbooks. You know, during the last years, what with the war going on and my friends always getting into difficulties and neglecting their school work as if there’d be no life after—after—’ She shook her head. ‘I never had the chance to really immerse myself, to … you know, enjoy, play with what I learned. And—following the rules, being perfect at that, getting exactly the described results—that made me feel…safe. Secure. I was in control.’
‘Now the war is over, and you can let go,’ Lois said gently. ‘At least a bit. Life is never completely safe. But your life and the lives of your friends are no longer in danger. It is okay to relax a bit. To relinquish control.’
‘It’s just not easy,’ Hermione admitted. ‘And trying harder all the time makes it even more difficult.’
Lois laughed, a friendly, lilting sound. ‘Yes, that wouldn’t work. Don’t worry too much, Hermione. You’ve got time. Relax, and allow your dream to begin.’
oooOooo
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Your Severus is wonderfully true to canon – so angry, so trapped.
Oh, thank you! I remember how scared I was of writing Severus … so this really means a lot. XD
Most interesting.
I like all the characterizations. You have a good grip on each of them, even the elusive Luna.
Snape is delicious. Well done. I love his plotting to make Hermione as miserable as possible.
I can never come up with long winded critiques of stories. It’s not me.
This will have to do. :-bd
mk
PS: Judy is a Speech Therapist, er more correctly, Speech Pathologist
I remember that starting out with this story was really difficult, especially with Luna.
And: I do not need long winded critiques. If you enjoy the story (and also, if you contribute the male perspective!!!) I’m most thankful.
Ohhh, Judy’s a specialist, too? I got very very lucky, I had someone at HA help me with the initial diagnosis and then a HP fan who’s a speech therapist help me with the therapy.
So, Snape is awake and not happy at all. I can’t blame him. I look forward to the battle of brains. Snape trying to trick Hermione into mixing him some potion to oblivion and Hermione thwarting his efforts in the most brilliant way. I like Lois Petrel. But why did you remove Hermione’s parents so effectively?
Glad you like Lois. You’ll be seeing more of her. *grins* Re: Hermione’s parents — That was one of things that bothered me in the books. That so many acts of serious sorcerery never had any serious repercussions. So in nearly all of my HP stories, Hermione’s trick with her parents had awful consequences.