Liaisons of the Mind

Chapter One

Hermione opened her eyes. Above her, lightning flashed across layers of dark gray. The stone felt cold beneath her body. She got up slowly, looking around. A lamppost stood a few feet away, its soft glow playing upon her features. Beyond the light, she could identify the shadowed outline of a large manor. She couldn't recall where she was or how she had gotten there but decided her best option was to explore the area.

Her steps carried her down a path overgrown with ivy and twisting branches. The neglected garden felt like some kind of enchanted forest from a muggle fairy tale. She stopped to study a few stone carvings. Light raindrops splashed into the pool of a detailed fountain, covered in moss. Her interest disappeared as the drizzle gave way to a downpour. Hermione ran towards the door, finding shelter beneath an overhang. She knocked softly, but there was no answer. She turned the knob, letting the door slide halfway open.

"Hello?" Nobody answered her call. She stepped forward and shivered as cool air grazed over her damp skin. Being inside offered no warmth. The room she occupied seemed spacious and was dimly lit by candles lining the wall.

Hermione ventured deeper within the residence, her eyes growing wide in response to the décor. Dozens of intricate statues were scattered throughout the space. Her fingers ran over every line and curve of a small gargoyle. Her hand paused on its face. It was contorted in anguish, seemingly alive with emotion. She could almost imagine a tear running down its cheek.

She was startled by a sudden clanking noise. It continued to echo through the room, not showing signs of relenting.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" she asked, glancing around again.

Hermione remembered that she was trespassing, and began to feel uncomfortable. But soon her curiosity forced her worries aside. Tracking the sounds, she ascended a winding staircase to the top floor. She opened a door at the end of the hall, and what she saw made her eyebrows raise. A tall man was leaning over something, hard at work. He was covered in black flowing robes, and his dark hair hung down, covering his face. Long slender fingers were wrapped around carving tools, executing precise movements with elegance and grace. He shifted his position, which allowed Hermione to view his creation in full. She gasped at the intense detail he had carved into a piece of stone. The noise made him flinch. He pivoted, his robes flowing gently with the movement of his body.

"You are quite uninvited, Miss Granger." The man's mouth curled up in a sneer.

"Professor Snape! What are you doing here?" she asked, eyes round, clenching and unclenching her robe.

"One would think that I should be asking you that same question," he said sharply. Snape looked down at her soaking wet uniform in disgust. "And for Merlin's sake girl, stop dripping on my floor."

"Oh yes, sorry sir," she replied, reminding herself to be respectful.

"Well? Are you going to explain yourself?" Snape waited calmly and crossed his arms against his chest. He raised an eyebrow, challenging her to respond.

"I don't really know what happened, sir," she said softly, head downcast. "The door wasn't locked or warded...you didn't answer. I thought I'd just take a look. I had no idea you were here. I don't even know where this place is. I woke up outside and then it started to rain and I then I ran here and--"

"You're rambling, Miss Granger. I'll get you some tea, and then you can attempt to retell things in a coherent manner." He turned and walked out.

"Professor?"

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he called from the hallway, annoyance lingering in his tone. Hermione caught up with him outside of the room. She seemed to be searching for the right words.

"Umm, do you have anything I can change into? My robes are soaked..." she said nervously. She held her arms up to let the water drip off of her sleeves. Her thick hair was matted to the sides of her face, causing her to bear resemblance to some sort of giant drowned rat. Hermione could have sworn that she saw amusement in her teacher's face, but if so, it disappeared just as quickly.

"Third door on the left, choose anything you'd like." With that he was gone, footsteps fading as he traveled down the stairs.

While searching through a collection of robes and other various items, Hermione's mind began to wander. She struggled to remember what had happened the night before. Her head was filled with images, cluttered and incomplete. Finally she was able to pull something into focus.

She sat in the stands for nearly an hour, watching Harry and Ron practice Quidditch. The evening was quickly approaching. The boys claimed that they would retire after just "a few more minutes." Hermione decided to get some studying in before she became too sleepy.

"I'll be in the library! Come and find me later tonight," she shouted. Hermione waved at her friends as she left the field. On the way back she began to plan out her Potions essay, but soon lost her ability to concentrate. She could hear two people nearby, talking in strained whispers. Hermione ducked behind some bushes in surprise as the voices suddenly grew louder. She watched suspiciously as Draco and a hooded figure approached. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to remain silent, as they were only a few feet away. The mysterious associate grasped Draco's shoulder, stopping him right in front of Hermione.

"You will not fail me, boy." Its voice was cold and calculated, making Hermione shiver. Draco nodded stiffly and rubbed his shoulder where he had been gripped a moment ago.

Hermione's leg began to cramp up, but she tried to stay still. She told herself to hold out, for the danger would be gone in a moment, but she couldn't stop her toes from trying to stretch. The snapping of the branch was magnified tenfold in her head. She clenched her eyes tightly and held her breath, hoping that they hadn't heard her. For a moment she believed that she had escaped discovery, but that possibility was crushed when two strong hands tore her from safety. Hermione's head hit the ground forcefully. She tried to sit up, only to be greeted with a sharp backhand to the face. Her vision was blurred, and she couldn't find her voice. Soon her ribs ached from repeated kicking. She heard the words "filthy mudblood," and then things faded to black.

Hermione sat trembling, her current task forgotten. She couldn't remember anything more about that night, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. She finally slipped on an oversized robe and hurried downstairs. She needed to be around something familiar, even if it was her cold, snarky Potions professor. Hermione had always admired him to some degree. His intellect and wit had led her to desire his approval more than once during her schooling. The fact that she had never gained it made his respect that much more appealing.

She wasn't one to get worked up over nothing, but by the time she hit the bottom of the stairs, Hermione's stomach was in knots. She felt eager to forget her violent flashback, but she still had some questions. It baffled her as to why she was not left with any bruises from that night. She hoped that Snape would have some answers.

"Professor? Where are you, sir?" Hermione checked through several rooms. She was positive that he had said he would be downstairs making tea. After her second search she still turned up nothing. He appeared to have simply vanished from the manor. At this point Hermione was frustrated and confused. Her head was pounding and she was in no mood for games. Opening the front door, she walked out cautiously. The rain had stopped, but it was still dark and cold outside. She closed the door behind her and took a few steps toward the garden. There was still no sign of Snape. She sighed and closed her eyes to think.

This is no time to panic--he couldn't have gone far. Hermione attempted to stay calm, opening her eyes to look for him once more. She gasped and pulled the robe tighter around her body.

"Okay, I think it's panic time..." she mumbled as she looked around. The courtyard of the manor was now gone. She was in the middle of a heavily wooded expanse. She spun around, looking toward the original location of Snape's home. There was nothing but trees in every direction. She could hear the sound of crickets and the shuffle of leaves around her. She hoped that no dangerous animals were lurking about. Stomping her foot on the ground, she silently cursed the fact that she didn't have her wand with her. Being unarmed and alone in the woods, wearing nothing but Snape's robes made her feel quite vulnerable. The garment's alluring smell of spices served as the only thing that gave her comfort.

Hermione wiped a tear from her face. Having no other options, she began walking. She had to find something to give her answers. Nothing was making sense anymore. She thought about Harry and Ron--about being back at Hogwarts. Hermione stopped fighting back her tears, wondering if she would ever be able to go home again.

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Harry and Ron sat in Dumbledore's office, fidgeting anxiously. The headmaster had pulled them from their nightly vigil for a meeting. Harry felt guilty about being away from the hospital wing at a time like this, but he forced himself to concentrate on Dumbledore's words. Perhaps he had some news about Hermione's condition.

Before the headmaster got to the point of the speech, the door opened and another guest entered. Ron's eyes widened, and he simply gaped.

"What's he doing here?!" the outburst escaped before Ron could stop himself.

Albus chuckled, looking past the boys to their Professor.

"Welcome Severus. Please, take a seat." The headmaster acquired a more serious tone, reflecting the dire situation at hand. Severus sneered at the two Gryffindors momentarily, but then sat down, waiting for Albus to speak.

"As you all know, Hermione has been under Madam Pomfrey's care for the past two days. I have done my best to discover what has put her in this comatose state. Although there is no simple answer, I have uncovered what it is that she has been stricken with. It can be best explained as a cerebral curse--a complicated trap. She is confined in her own mind, unaware that she is not living in the physical realm. Cut off from this world, she will grow weaker as time passes."

"Can we help her, sir?" Harry asked, desperation covering his face. Dumbledore tried to smile sympathetically.

"We will try, my boy. This is a very dark spell that has been placed on Hermione. Only a very powerful wizard could have performed it. Being an uncommon occurrence, there is little we know about the affliction. But I do have an idea of how to save her--granted, it will be quite risky. That is how you come into play, Severus."

At that point Snape had his hands steepled and his eyebrow raised. He wasn't sure if he took to the idea of becoming involved in another one of Albus's crazy plans, but he was willing to hear him out. The headmaster continued explaining.

"I need you to go into her mind and try to bring her back out. It is dangerous, but if anyone is qualified it is you, Severus." His eyes weren't twinkling, but they were sullen and firm. He held Snape's gaze with an urgency for him to understand.

"What?!" All three listeners responded in unison. None of them were expecting to hear something like that from Dumbledore. It just seemed too bizarre, even for the wizarding world.

"How do you propose that I accomplish what you have suggested?" Snape couldn't help feeling a bit curious. He had dealt with delving into one's thought and memories before, but nothing to the extreme that Albus was implying.

"I can get you in there Severus, but once you are inside, you must deal with the situation on your own. I don't know what you will encounter in her mind, but you must prepare yourself for any obstacle. It might be full of memories and symbolic sequences, or there might not be any method to the madness. But through it all, you must remember to keep a firm grip on reality or you might be lost as well. You will have to track her and catch up with her. She must be forced to see the truth. I cannot force you to commit to something this serious, so take a little time to think it over. I will expect your reply by tomorrow night."

Harry and Ron were too shocked to ask many more questions. They returned to Hermione's side soon after the meeting. This was definitely not what they had in mind as an adventure for their 7th year. Ron kept sniffling, and Harry took his sick friend's hand in his own.

"I'm so sorry we didn't find you sooner, Hermione. I will never forget the feeling of finding you there, beaten and bleeding...I swear I won't let you die. Fight Hermione, please fight this." Harry couldn't talk anymore. He was too choked up. Her face looked so peaceful, sleeping in a deadly trap that she was yet to discover.