The Funeral Portrait by the French Press, Chapter 11.
The key to avoiding stares at the Ministry, it seems, is to go
absurdly early in the morning. Severus discovers this when he
is unable to sleep and rises before dawn, his minimal morning
oblutions completed and after his routine cup of tea and
cigarette, he shoves the shrunken down journal of his
notes on Hermione's case deep into his pocket of his coat and
leaves the house. Arriving in the Atrium, he is
greeted by a very disgruntled night guard at the tail end of
his shift who verifies his want, issuing A visitor pass before he
is on his way down to the archives and library to do
research. His library at home does not
contain the information he seeks, necessitating this trip
to the ministry. His wonder acts as an after
hours pass, and when he touches the slender Ebony to the doors
they open to allow him entry. While the librarian isn't there,
it is blissfully quiet, enabling him to get on with the task
efficiently. It doesn't take long for him to
find the passages he seeks, pouring over several different
reference texts on Irish Gaelic and reading about the
spellcrafting law surrounding curses.
After all, he is not unfamiliar with the creation of curses
himself, though it has been a great many years since he was a
vengeful and angst ridden youth. He considers what they know
about the curse and the effect it has on Hermione's mind.
It is like a labyrinth. Becoming lost in a labyrinth, in
both history and folklore, often resulted in death.
This only further solidifies his fears that if Hermione remains
trapped for a greater length of time than she has already, she
might end up lost to them. To him.
They are terrifyingly close to bringing her back.
She is most of the way there already, but there are still too
many potential risks for it to all go horribly wrong.
By the time the librarian arrives for the day, Severus has
found what he is looking for. A series of words not unlike
those used to trap her, that could in all likelihood act as a
counter curse. Scalior, Fet, Glasar, and Intin
unlock the mind. Severus waits for the ink of his
Biro to dry before snapping the journal shut and sending the
books he has used back to the stacks.
His notes from the hours he spent sifting through everything
available on the subject in the archives are extensive,
scribbling in such haste so as to not waste any time.
He hopes that he will be able to interpret his penmanship later
as he leaves the Ministry. It is far busier than when he
arrived. The halls are bustling with
people and the lifts are full. He draws his coat around himself
like an armour protection from the stairs, and whispers he is
accustomed to ignoring as he steps out into the Atrium to
leave. His jaw clenches almost
painfully tight as once again he runs into Arthur Weasley and
wonders if the world is playing a great cosmic joke on him.
Severus. Arthur says cheerily.
Fancy seeing you here. They move away from the lift and
the crowd around it before Severus replies Arthur and
follows that up with a quiet research.
Loquacious as always, I see. The older wizard heckles gently.
I assume it's to do with Hermione's case.
How is that going along? Severus knows that Arthur and
Molly have visited Scentman goes twice since their last encounter
at the Ministry. Padma keeps him abreast of all
visitors. No more visits though, from
either of Hermione's supposed best friends.
Even thinking about them causes his lip to curl against his
will, and he hastily reins in his features to politely
neutral. Miss Granger is doing as well as
she can, given the circumstances.
He answers. I am working on a countercurse.
Now that we are more aware of what we are working with, I am
feeling confident that we will have a resolution soon.
His words are more confident than he truly feels.
Are you confident that you've found the key?
Arthur's expression shifts from solemn to optimistic.
I cannot be certain. He confides.
He ignores the inner critic that jeers at him, taunting him with
failure. There is nothing wrong with
giving Arthur and himself some hope, but I am hopeful that's
good enough for me. The older wizard says, clapping
Severus on the shoulder enthusiastically.
They part ways and Severus leaves the ministry, operating
to the park near his home and smoking as he walks to calm his
jittery nerves. He will have to give this up
soon, he thinks as he snuffs the butt before entering his house.
The nicotine he knows is a Band-Aid, and even Wizards are
not immune to a wide variety of diseases.
Those who smoked were susceptible to the things he
ignored in favour of going to the Ministry early, like feeding
himself and showering he takes care of.
He promised Padma, after all, that he would attempt to take
care of his needs as well. When he is clean, Severus lies
down on his bed and closes his eyes for a while, trying to
reclaim some of the sleep he missed overnight.
A few hours later, he wakes feeling more rested and dresses
in clean clothes before leaving for Saint Mungo's to keep his
reading appointment with Hermione.
Padma is nowhere to be found when he arrives, so he simply
takes a seat in his chair and cracks open the book to begin
reading aloud when she enters the room looking flustered. 20
minutes later, he finishes his passage before he closes the
tome and sets it aside. Difficult day.
His eyebrow raises as he asks her and she nods, taking a seat
in the chair beside him. They never bothered to get rid
of the second chair. I don't want to complain about
my supervisor while there are far more important work to be
done. She explains.
Severus frowns. It sounds like he is targeting
and harassing you. He comments flatly.
Odds are you're right. She replies with a sigh.
Have you noted down any of the incidents so far?
He presses, feeling a wave of protectiveness for her.
It leaves a bad taste in his mouth to think that Padma is
being harassed by one of her colleagues, her immediate
supervisor no less. I might have.
She admits, just in case it escalates.
Severus nods, pleased. A wise decision.
He knows that prematurely reporting her supervisor would
be foolish, but is glad that she has taken the initiative to keep
track of the other healer's behaviour.
So I take it you've done some research?
She asks, drawing the subject back to the witch lying comatose
before them. You look like you haven't slept
much. Sleep was not forthcoming last
night. He admits quietly, ashamed by
how easily she could read him. But I made use of that time and
went to the archives and library to research.
He pulls out his journal and hands it to Padma so that she
can peruse his notes and feels compelled to apologise for his
appalling handwriting. But even as he opens his mouth
to do it, she looks up and grins, shaking her head.
I can see you are about to try to apologise, but if you recall,
I spent six years interpreting it before now.
She tells him. Severus has to reflect on her
words as she sits quietly and reads through them.
He doesn't recall when he stopped viewing Padma as a
former student, nor does he Hermione as such either.
It is a good sign, perhaps, that he is able to compartmentalise
them as former students and whatever it is they both
represent now, he's drawn out of his musing.
When Padma looks up at the end, there is something in her eye
that tells him she has an idea. What is it?
She smiles. You made a note there about
labyrinths and getting lost in them historically.
She begins, waiting for him to nod in confirmation.
Well, it's obvious, isn't it? He frowns.
Do you really think now is the time for being coy?
She rolls her eyes at him. How is it you are able to
withdraw from Hermione's mind once you are inside?
His eyes widen as her implication lands.
How has he not seen this himself?
The tether. Padma nods.
You could perform the counter curse while you are inside her
mind and use the tether to bring her back with you.
That will use quite a lot of magic.
He says thoughtfully. But it is not impossible.
If we were to harness both our magics into the spell, I imagine
it would. She agrees.
But I am willing to take the risk.
Your research is sound, and I am much more comfortable with
curses and spell work than portions.
He feels a soaring feeling in his chest, a bubble of anxiety
bursting and making room for other emotions to flood him as
he considers what they've discussed.
The solution was laid out before them, and all they had to do was
reach out and take it. Hermione.
She could return to their world, she will need to be in peak
physical condition. He says, trying to rein in his
expectations and focus them on the task before them.
It wouldn't do to celebrate prematurely, All they have are
theories after all. I can get her there by the end
of the week. Padma promises.
I'll double down on her physical therapy and boost her nutrient
portions so that her body has the strength to go through this.
He turns his eyes to the young healer, his friend beside him,
and offers her a small smile. Thank you.
He tells her gratefully. She puts a gentle hand on his
arm and squeezes it. You are welcome.
Severus resumes his scrutiny of Hermione's form, reaching out to
clasp her cool hand in his hope causing his throat to constrict
with unshed tears. When he arrives at Saint Mungo's
on Friday, Severus feels his body tense, immediately on edge
when he hears 2 familiar voices echo down the hall to where he
stands at the lift. As he approaches Hermione's
room, his fears are confirmed when he spies the familiar shock
of Weasley Hare, along with the messy dark hair of the Boy
Saviour himself. His brows automatically knit
together and he stands in the doorway, listening as the two
younger Wizards argue with Padma, who appears annoyed with
them both. He waits for a gap to clear, his
throat loudly alerting them to his presence.
Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley.
He draws, allowing a dangerous edge to creep into his voice.
What brings you here today? What do you think?
Ron mouths off, ever the hot head.
Severus muses. I can assure you, if I had even
a slight inkling, I would not have wasted my breath asking.
He replies. He catches Padma's smirk at his
response and crosses his arms, straightening out so that he
stands at full height. Being the tallest person in the
room has its advantages sometimes.
We're here to stop you from whatever sick experiments you're
performing on Hermione. Ron says hotly.
Harry steps forward then, putting a hand on the redhead
shoulder. Naturally, Sir, we simply wanted
to know what it is you're planning to do to Hermione.
He says, shooting a look to his friend.
When he opens his mouth to argue, Severus is about to ask
how they know when he recalls his conversation with Arthur.
Of course, he only has himself to blame for this situation.
What Heather Patil and I are working on regards to Miss
Granger's treatment is frankly none of your business.
He begins, holding out a hand to silence both Wizards when they
open their mouths to argue. I am sure you are concerned, but
the treatment of patients is confidential to anyone but
family. It is Potter's turn to look
angered then, and Severus sees his green eyes flash.
We are all that Hermione has left.
Harry says through gritted teeth.
Severus seas red, overcome by rage at the two younger Wizards.
His jaw tightens as he forms his response, but a look from Padma
quells him and he rethinks his words.
The absolute gall. You know nothing.
He snarls. Padma steps forwards then and
takes over addressing the unwelcome visitors.
Harry, Ron, I am going to have to ask you both to leave.
She tells them. You are welcome to return
another day to visit, but for now Severus and I have work to
do and you are only going to hamper our progress.
Both men appear horrified by her use of his given name and he
stands by smugly as the two of them slink towards the door.
Chastened. Severus closes the door firmly
behind them and relishes The Dirty looks they each throw his
way before they disappear down the hall.
He's a little surprised they do not put up more of a fight, but
having them out of his hair sooner is preferable to the
alternative. Padma is gazing at him with
concern and he tries to wave her off, but she doesn't appear
willing to back down. Are you all right?
She asks. Fine.
He answers, jaw still tight with tension.
They don't know you, they don't understand.
Padma reminds him. I know what Harry said Tuchnen
of, but you and I both know that that is not the case.
He looks away, unable to maintain eye contact while his
nerves are still frazzled. Instead, he clears his throat
and draws the items he needs for the tether from his pocket,
placing them on the trolley Padma has prepared.
He removes his coat and the wool jumper he was keeping warm with,
folding them and placing them aside to make it easier for
Padma to channel her magic through him in just his white
shirtsleeves. Anger having dissipated, he
settles into his chair, stomach in knots.
He is confident that his research is sound, but for some
reason he cannot seem to shake the gnawing feeling that there
is something he or Padma has overlooked.
It must have shown in his face for a moment later, Padma is at
his side. You look like you're worried it
is going to go horribly. She says You've considered every
possible thing, Severus. Have a little faith in yourself.
He takes a moment to swallow the lump in his throat before
replying. It means too much this time.
There is too much on the line to lose.
She nods in understanding. Let's get started.
She prompts. The sooner we get through it,
the sooner you can put your mind at ease, all right?
He agrees. The tether is wrapped around
their wrists, and before Severus murmurs the spell to enter
Hermione's mind, he casts one last glance at Padma.
She places her hand on his shoulder and closes her eyes.
He can feel her channelling her magic into him.
The feeling is strange, but not as uncomfortable as he imagined
it would be. She opens her eyes again and
says. Bring her back.
Resolve firm, Severus turns to look at Hermione, her hand
clasped tightly in his own. Closing his eyes for a moment,
he opens them and casts legiliments.
Severus. She is more than a little
shocked by Severus's sudden appearance in her flat.
It's been several days since she saw him last also, it seemed,
and she was beginning to worry that she'd finally gone mad,
that everything she'd gone through with him in her memories
had all been conjured. Hermione.
He says in greeting, a hint of urgency in his tone.
Are you all right? She asks him, concerned.
He approaches her, and soon both of her hands are enclosed
between his his closeness and the suddenness of his arrival,
as well as the slightly manic look in his eyes.
Worry, Sir. She stares at him, unblinking as
he appears to wrestle with what to say.
I am fine. He settles on.
Aye, how are you? She blinks.
I'm much the same. He sighs out heavily, and much
to her surprise, his long arms surround her and draw her into a
tight embrace. Unsure of what to do, she ends
up resting her head against his shoulder as she returns the hug,
burrowing her nose against him so that she can breathe him in.
When he pulls back. Finally, he releases her,
looking a little mortified by his actions.
I apologise. He stammers, not wanting him to
feel bad about it. She hurries to say don't
apologise before adding shyly. You know it's not unwelcomed.
His cheeks flush and he clears his throat in discomfort.
I suppose you might like to know where I've been and why I am
here. Hermione nods.
If you don't mind, I am here to attempt to bring you back.
He tells her. Her jaw immediately glows slack
and she stares at him, unable to put words to the jumble of
emotions coursing through her. Are you sure?
Yes. He nods firmly and lifts his arm
to show her his wrist. There is a series of silken
silvery threads there she has never noticed and her eyes widen
when she realises that they are Unicorn tail hairs.
How I have researched a counter curse.
He explains. Dolokhov did not use a
particularly difficult method to trap you here, and as we've
discussed before, there are several factors that might have
enabled it to entrap you further.
The incantation is in Gaelic and he, the Patil, believes it is
sound. Hermione can't help but smile at
the mention of Padma and the gentle way he refers to her.
There aren't many people he is fond of, and she's glad he has
not been entirely alone. She knows all too well how
reclusive he can be. All right, she tells him.
You'll allow me to try? He says, disbelief in his tone.
She reaches a hand to cook his cheek, all of her past anxiety
and shame over her feelings for him having melted away.
He spent so much time looking for a way to bring her back.
He deserves to know how grateful she is.
When she tilts her chin up to kiss him, she pauses, searching
for permission to close the gap. Instead, he closes it, and his
eyes are shut as their lips meet in a kiss, caught somewhere
between desperation and relief. It ends as quickly as it began,
Severus pulling away to look her in the eye.
I'm going to loop this tether around your wrist.
He tells her, doing so as soon as she holds her arm out to him
in permission. I will guide you back using the
spell in conjunction with the mental connection we have
established through the labyrinth your mind has
constructed. He looks nervous, but there is a
resolve in the way he has squared his shoulders, like he
is determined to convince himself that it is going to
work. She trusts him, and a strange
calm settles over her. She realises in that moment the
fear of being trapped is far worse than the fear of not
knowing if his spell will work. I don't wish to hurry your
decision, but there is only so long I can maintain this spell.
He confides a hint of urgency in his tone, though she knows he is
trying not to show it. Let's do it.
He nods and draws out the one she is so familiar with and he
points it towards her, the tip aimed at her temple.
His dark eyes bore into hers as his hands, connected to hers by
the tether, grip hers almost painfully tight.
Scaly or fair glass are an Indian.
For a moment, nothing changes, and she immediately wonders if
it has worked at all. She feels a moment of panic when
she notices dark red blood trailing from his nose, but
doesn't have long to ponder it before a loud, persistent noise
causes her to shut her eyes tightly and cringe in pain.
And then there is darkness and a tight squeeze and a tugging
around her wrist. The tight grip on her hand is
the only thing that grounds her. She wonders if she screams, if
anyone will hear her where she is.
All of these things run through her mind until suddenly the
sound drops away and there is nothing.
It is just blackness. She panics.
It hasn't worked. She is still trapped in her
mind. She's lost Savaris forever.
Hermione sucks in her breath, trying to calm herself enough to
open her eyes. She realises she is lying on her
back, and the smell does not seem remotely familiar.
Her lids tremble as she attempts to open her eyes, cracking them
open slowly. There is a soft beep in the
background as her eyes are overwhelmed by bright white
light. It takes a moment, but they soon
adjust, and she can see that the ceiling above her is stark
white, lit by fluorescent light. Glancing to her right, there is
medical equipment against the wall and a small, grimy window
with partially opened horizontal blinds.
The sky outside is ominous and overcast.
Hermione turns her gaze to the left, feeling her chest
constrict immediately, heart racing when the face of the man
she loves comes into view. There is blood dripping from his
nose, but which she notices the most are his dark, intense eyes,
glassy and crinkled at the corners, and the small, shy
smile that curves his mouth, a sight that makes her heart feel
like it no longer will fit in her chest.
Severus. Hermione.