Liaisons of the Mind

Chapter Two

Hermione took step after step, forcing herself to continue along the forest path. It seemed as though she had been walking forever. Her feet ached, and her legs felt like rubber. She began to wonder what kind of wizardry could have brought her to such a strange world. Hermione nervously picked up the pace, feeling claustrophobic beneath so many trees. They seemed to bend and sway, creating a dreamlike atmosphere. Leaves disappeared and branches stretched and grew. The long fibers snaked down and wove everywhere, covering the ground. The dirt path grew soft and grainy, causing her to sink slightly as she walked. The air grew humid and her robe clung to her sweaty frame.

The once dark, forested enclosure was now home to a landscape that Hermione never could have imagined. Beneath her feet stretched a large expanse of sparkling white sand, lit by the faint glow of what she assumed to be moonlight. The tree trunks flowed into hundreds of silky black fibers--long and thin, swirling and twisting in a warm breeze. They flicked at her, wrapping around her face and shoulders. She shuddered at the feeling. The strands felt of human hair, silky and smooth. She brushed them out of her face, trying to avoid getting caught up in the numerous fibers.

She focused on something in the distance. A dark figure had caught her eye. It was motionless, back turned, standing several hundred feet away. The breeze caught the hem of the stranger's robe, creating a gentle rippling effect. Hermione debated whether or not to call out to the person. She weighed the options in her head, realizing that there could be consequences if she acted rashly. Not wishing to startle him, she cleared her throat softly. No response. She coughed louder this time, aiming to make the figure aware of her presence. Still nothing. She was now within ten feet of him, and she decided to take a more direct approach.

"Uh, pardon me sir? Could you tell me where we are?" Hermione waited patiently for an answer, but was still prepared to run if things went sour. Greeted by silence, she slowly extended her hand, gently resting it on his shoulder. She drew back quickly, surprised by how cold he was to the touch. At that moment the wind picked up, blowing the robe off of the figure and onto the sand. Hermione circled around the man. She inhaled sharply, placing her hand over her mouth. A twisted and mutilated face was staring at her. She almost hadn't recognized Harry. But it was his him--or at least his image. His eyes were dark and sunken in, reflecting a shell of a man. She couldn't miss the message being sent to her--bore by the body of a friend. The dark mark was upon him, larger than she had ever seen it before. It covered the full length of Harry's naked torso, touching all the way to the top of his neck. It was infected and dripping red, coagulated blood forming each line and curve. The hum of flies grew heavy in her ears as they feasted on the decay. His body began to crumble, shedding flesh into the wind. It swirled into the air, bearing the stench of what begets nightmares.

She couldn't stay. She was in shock. Her legs carried her backwards, further and further away. Soon she turned and started to run. Silent tears were streaming down her face again, leaving streaks of horror settled deeper than her skin.

The potions classroom was finally beginning to feel the full chill of winter. Professor Snape sat stiffly in his chair, arms folded across his chest. His last class had left long ago and dusk had settled, but still he remained. In twenty minutes he had a meeting with Albus that he was dreading. Snape had thought about the predicament he was in and had come to the conclusion that he had only one option. He had to try to save Miss Granger. Yet his worries were not with the mission, but with the consequences it might draw from his darker allegiances. He was unsure if Voldemort would be able to sense his venture into his student's mind, but if he could, there would certainly be hell to pay. Knowing there was nothing more to be done, he stood from his perch and left the dungeons, robes flowing behind him.

"Albus." The professor nodded in greeting to the headmaster.

"Please have a seat, Severus." Motioning towards a chair, Albus Dumbledore moved towards the back of his office. Snape took the offering, crossed his legs and waited for the other man to speak. The older of the two stood, back facing his guest, with his hands folded behind him. He sighed audibly, turning again to face Snape.

"It is times such as these that I am grateful that you were trained in the dark arts. This task will require you to go beyond legilimency. If dark forces are involved, as I expect they are, you may need to use any force necessary to get you and Hermione out alive. You have had some time to think things over. Have you made your decision, Severus?" By this time the headmaster had taken his seat and was leaning forward in a show of urgency.

Severus was slow to answer, taking time to collect his thoughts.

"I am willing," he said firmly. "But, I must worn you that this concept is a bit foreign. My practices have never probed so deeply. Lord Voldemort is an expert in legilimency. It would not surprise me if he had the powers to delve that far into one's mind. I have escaped him for years through occlumency, but he may be able to sense our activities if he is in fact controlling Miss Granger's subconscious mind."

Dumbledore nodded but said nothing, encouraging Snape to continue.

"He might be able to feel my presence. It is a chance I am willing to take, but we must be prepared for the consequences of exposure," the dark man concluded bitterly. He was not exactly comfortable with being discovered as a traitor to the dark lord.

The two men finished their conversation, knowing the heavy implications of what they were about to do. As they made their way to the hospital wing, no words were exchanged. Dumbledore greeted Madam Pomfrey solumnly and then spoke to Severus.

"I believe that this is the safest place to conduct the mission. I want both of you to be near medical attention if things should..." Albus grew quiet for a moment but then continued. "If things go wrong."

Snape lay down on one of the hospital beds, adjacent to the still form of Hermione.

"I am ready. Let us get on with it," Snape said, trying to sound as pleasant as he could considering his foul mood.

"Alright. This won't hurt a bit. Just relax." Dumbledore's words were the last thing the Professor heard as he drifted into a strange feeling of unconsciousness. He didn't have as much control as he imagined he would. It felt as though he were floating. He tried to hold onto his thoughts, searching to tap into Hermione's mind, but reality faded to black.

Snape opened his eyes. He realized that he was in the hospital wing. Events came flooding back to him in his mind. Did their mission fail? Neither Albus nor Poppy was present, and the room was dark and empty. Even Hermione's body was absent from the bed next to him.

He stood up quickly, causing his head to scream with pain. He grimaced in response and took a moment to steady himself. After a few seconds, he decided to take a look around the castle. Things didn't seem right, and he was going to figure out what was going on.

The halls were empty and dark. He searched through his robes and pulled out an item.

"Lumos," he commanded. The walls lit up with the soft glow of his wand. He decided to search the rest of the floor. He made his way towards the school's Charms classroom. Normally he wouldn't set foot in the other classrooms on his own free will, but he deemed the cause a necessary one.

He was able to open the door without a problem, but he found it rather odd that it wasn't locked at that time of night. Professor Severus Snape prided himself in being prepared for any situation, but what he found in that classroom simply could not apply. The floor was drenched in blood, creating an ankle deep pool. The same red substance was smeared across the walls, portraying an intense act of brutality. The students' lifeless forms were still in their seats, slaughtered mercilessly where they sat. Even Professor Flitwick was dead, hanging by a rope at the front of the classroom, neck broken.

Snape held in the urge to vomit. He turned and walked out. Even someone as emotionless as he could not go unaffected from such a sight. Despite discovering the disgusting scene moments ago, he decided to continue his search. How could a place become so devastated so quickly? The events were almost dreamlike--

'Wait...that's it!' He thought carefully. It felt quite real, which impressed him. 'I should have known that I was already inside her mind.'

He was not prepared for how strong Voldemort's hold was over Hermione. The dark lord had turned a young woman's mind into a filthy, violent alternate universe of sorts. He didn't know how to find Hermione yet, but he was determined to figure it out. Something told him that this would be one of the strangest, and most memorable, events in his lifetime.