Touchstone

Snape sat up with a gasp as he returned to his own mind. He paused to gather his wits and looked around. Dumbledore was sitting in a chair on the other side of Hermione's bed anxiously looking at Snape; Madame Pomfrey was fussing about him taking his vitals and whatnot; Minerva was pale and watching them.

"Poppy! I am quite alright." Snape wrenched his arm out of her grip and looked at Hermione's still form. "Well, as you've no doubt surmised, 'I made contact,'" he said sarcastically.

"And?" replied McGonagall nervously. She looked at Hermione and became worried. Snape, too, looked at Hermione again.

"Well, it appears she did not follow." Dumbledore's face dropped. Snape tried to exhale some of his tension. "I do not think she will any time soon either. I'm sorry. I did my best." He got up out of his chair, his knees objecting. He idly wondered how long he'd been there. "I may be able to go back however. I think she is just......trying to decide. But I don't think she wants to give up. Not yet anyway." Sad looks were shared among the staff members present. Snape departed and stalked down to his own portion of the castle.

The hallways were stuffy and warm. They always were during the daytime in the summer at Hogwarts. It was the middle of June and the heat was almost unbearable. Snape figured it must be sometime around noon judging by the grumbling in his stomach. The cooler temperatures in the dungeons were just what he wanted right now. 'That and a stiff drink.' He had a nice bottle of whiskey waiting for him in his rooms right after lunch. He reached the hidden door to his rooms, only he and designated others could see. He murmured the password - Specula - and with a wry smile strode through the door. He peeled off the outer layer of his robes, and hung them on the rack by the door and shrugged out of his shoes. His get-up-and-go had been thoroughly depleted and he wanted nothing more than to relax in his rooms to think in peace. He summoned a house-elf and shortly afterwards was having a simple meal of sandwiches and iced pumpkin juice. Not his favourite drink, but he was in the mood for it right now.

'Gods, she had looked awful.' Snape replayed that morning's affair and frowned. He had never seen her in such a state. Granted, she had enough reason to be, but even still it was not a kind image. Absently he felt a small warm body slithering about his feet while he ate at his table. He knew it was his intuitive foster-pet and tried to shoo him away with his foot. When Snape finished he banished the dishes to the kitchens and made for the desk in his room. He bent down to a low drawer and pulled out a 2/3 full bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. Not his most expensive brand, but it did the job. He conjured up a tumbler and set it on the nearby side table. Next he unbuttoned the top buttons of his white linen shirt, collapsed tiredly in the squashy armchair in front of the large fireplace and poured whiskey into the glass to near full. He took a gulp and tried to focus on the burning of his throat as the hot liquid made its way down. It usually was so good at taking his mind off his problems.

Tonight would be a long night. He sighed and stared into his glass. His newly acquired feline, conversely, was growing restless and impatient and paced back and forth between Snape's feet. His questioning mewing soon turned to a near growl before Snape brought his attention to the animal. 'He really is quite attentive isn't he?' Snape moved his glass away from his lap to allow access for the cat to jump into it, which he did. The ginger tomcat sat and stared up into Snape's eyes. He knew he had been with his Mistress- he could smell her scent. And yet she was still gone. The cat's burning glare lessened and he reached up to nuzzle Snape's neck. Severus was sure it was the cat's universal sign for reassuring his humans. He wondered if he also did this with Hermione. Moreover, he wondered if her familiar would have recognized his owner. No doubt he would. Snape scratched the pet's head and replied, "Sorry little friend. She's not here. Give me some time." Apparently satisfied the cat turned in a circle, trying to find the best way to sleep in his lap, and curled up into a ball.

Snape resumed his consumption of alcohol throughout the night. He wondered whether or not she would let him in tomorrow. Should he continue being strict or soften up a bit? Perhaps he should check to see if Potter had made any progress. Snape frowned, 'The cocky little prat,' he thought. Harry had had a rather complicated and new spell cast upon him repeatedly, almost rendering him completely insane. Snape had heard about it in one of his last Death Eater meetings, but had not had enough knowledge about it when Potter was attacked. Of course, with the spell and the torture, the future looked dim. For three days he had rocked himself back and forth and murmured nonsense and screamed as if in pain. He would shy away from any attention and turn in on himself.

Snape had not been to see him, as he had been watching over Hermione, but Sirius had come to tell him how he was doing. Snape had to comfort Sirius while the man wept at Hermione's bedside. It was then Snape fully realized that Black had lost almost everything himself. This world was so cruel. 'Just look at what the world did to the Wonder-Trio of Hogwarts- not so wonderful anymore,' he thought with a sad smirk. He shook his head as he realized he was getting sentimental.

When Snape had refilled his glass and gone over his ruminations the mantel clock quietly, yet not distastefully, chimed three am. It always astonished him how long he could sit in self-pity without even realizing it. His vision was slightly hazy as he stood up wobbly, knocking a protesting Crookshanks off his lap, and made his way to the bedroom. He unbuttoned his shirt and trousers, carelessly dropped them on the floor and clumsily tore open the covers. As he slid up the bed, he slowly slipped out of his boxers and tossed them aside. The air was chilly in his bedroom, (he had left his window open and the dungeons were known to intermittently significantly lower the temperatures even in the summer), and he pulled the covers just up under his chin, like a child. He loved the feel of the deep green satin sheets against his skin. The cat pounced on the bed and settled between the pillows and promptly fell asleep. 'Oh to be a cat', Snape laughed quietly to himself.

He gazed out his window again tonight and listened to the deep purrs by his ear. Tomorrow he would owl his old friend from University. He was an expert in psychological charms, and he would find out how he was coming along with Potter's cure, if there was one. Then he would go back for round two with Hermione.

"Please......please Hermione, don't give in. Not yet." And with that the alcohol took control and Snape blacked out.

~*~*~

Snape awoke in the morning with a splitting headache and a dry mouth. "Ugh." He groaned and rolled over and would have crushed the cat had he not issued a warning growl. Snape drug his naked self to the bathroom to down a vile of anti-hangover potion he kept fully stocked. He smacked his lips in disgust and turned towards his shower. The hot steam billowed out from the shower curtains as Snape slipped in. That was one thing he loved that about Hogwarts, no matter what time of the day, or night, there was always hot water. He lathered his skin and washed his hair- it wasn't greasy liked the students thought, but very fine and shiny. Besides, he used an Appearance Detracting Charm during term time to add to his bogus façade.

Once finished with his shower, he dried off, dressed in black slacks and a black linen shirt with green serpents sewed on the tip of the collars and grabbed some parchment and a quill. He quickly scribbled out a letter to his old friend asking about Harry, and went up to the Owlery. He chose a medium sized barn owl and walked it over, owl perched on his arm, to the window and sent him off. He watched the bird get smaller and smaller and leant against the cool stones. It was a lovely morning so far with just a slight breeze; quite the contrast to the mood inside that of the castle. Having done his good deed, he turned away and made his retreat back to the dungeons only to be intercepted by Albus and Minerva.

"Ah Severus! Minerva and myself were just on our way to breakfast. You haven't joined us in quite some time, do come along?" The Headmaster gave Snape a hopeful look and Minerva smiled encouragingly. He noted she looked rather tired. Knowing a trap when he saw one, he obliged and followed them into the Great Hall.

The enchanted ceiling showed the bright clear morning sky as he made his way to the High Table along with the other staff. Professor Sprout sent him a worried look as she took in his appearance. He could just tell she was thinking 'He's lost weight.' Snape scowled at her without feeling and stared at the food. He wasn't that hungry and he didn't get much sleep. He just wanted to get back to Hermione and try again. Poppy Pomfrey also took in Shape's tired form.

"Severus, you look terrible. I will force you to take some Sleeping Draught if you do not start sleeping, "she scolded.

"I do sleep thank you," he snapped. 'Just not well.' He piled on some eggs, bacon and a croissant and poked at them. He was really getting sick and tired of everyone caring about him. A moment later the coffee was handed down to him and he filled his cup, added two sugars, and drank gratefully. Minerva watched him out of the corner of her eye and when he went back to staring at his breakfast she sniffed disapprovingly. Snape sat his fork down with a clatter and glared at her.

"Had I known this is the kind of welcome I would have received upon joining everyone, I would have spared myself the torment." Minerva returned his glare.

"Don't look at me like that. If you do not want to be worried about then do something to change it. It will do you no good to starve yourself either without food or sleep."

He was too tired to argue. "I ate plenty last night," but he took a bite of his eggs all the same. Then he remembered Minerva's own abnormal appearance and added, "What about you? The pot calling the kettle black I'd say. When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?"

She gave him a rueful smile. "I was sitting in with Hermione last night," seeing his worried look she quickly added, "Quiet. You served your watch and you needed your rest. Besides, no one expected you to stay there all night after what you did yesterday."

The rest of the meal was eaten in quiet as he contemplated his next visit with Hermione. Or, rather, Hermione's mind. Having finished, he got up and made for the infirmary. The halls were still cool but he hurried through them nonetheless. He walked into the room and over to the curtained-off bed. He started when he noticed he was slightly out of breath. He wondered if he would have enough strength to do the spell as he looked down at her lying in the bed.

She was in the same position as the last time he'd seen her. The morning light was on her face and she looked so peaceful. He watched her silently for a few moments before Poppy and Dumbledore quietly entered. They could see him staring at her and each wondered what was going through his mind. Poppy tactfully clucked her tongue and strode over to the window and opened it.

"We need some fresh air I think," she said then went through her cabinets and found a vile of Pepper-Up Potion and handed it to Snape. "Drink," she said forcefully. "You need some strength, at least to get through this properly. I'll not have you pass out from fatigue while you are under this spell Severus." She stood, arms crossed, in front of him until he swallowed it in one go. He scowled at her while he drank.

Dumbledore grinned and then turned to the matter at hand. "Are you sure you are up to this, my boy?"

Snape winced at the endearment nodded his head, "Let's just get on with it shall we?" He took hold of Hermione's hands and waited for his cue to join in on the incantation. The familiar light-headed dizzy feeling set in and he let it come.