Hidden Within

Hidden Within

Chapter Seven - Answers

"I was going to tell you tonight, anyway, I was just trying to find the right way of saying it. In the end I guess there is no 'right way of saying it', and no wrong way. Just one way." He searched her eyes for the revelation to come. "I love you," she said simply. And all the pain in his life seemed to melt away in one glorious second when he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the woman who had just confessed her love to him was one he loved as well. The one. Deeply. Totally. Without restraint. One glorious second when, for the first and only time in his life, Severus Snape was truly happy and fully at peace. Then he opened his eyes to tell her he loved her as well, and found himself looking into the face of a startled but alive Poppy Pomfrey.

---

"Severus! You're awake! Lie still, don't move," the mediwitch was saying in her usual no nonsense tone; someone who knew her, however, might have been able to tell from the slight inflection in her voice that she was glad and relieved to see him.

Severus' mind was running at light speed. Had he died? Surely he couldn't have, as there was no possible way he would have ended up in the same afterlife as Poppy - she was a mediwitch and he was a killer. Besides, this "afterlife" looked suspiciously like Hogwarts' infirmary. Was he hallucinating, then? He felt the cold hand of fear grip him: he had been with Hermione one moment and here the next. There had only been one other time in his life when he had had a similar experience with time, and that had been right before the massacre. What horrible things lay in store for him now? And what could it possibly mean that he was seeing Poppy alive?

The mediwitch, for her part, had been busying herself with her patient, giving him orders he obeyed without question. This was a new one. Never, in all the years that she had had the Potions Master in her ward, had he been so cooperative. He must still be in a state of shock. Finally satisfied that everything else seemed normal, she left, only to return a few minutes later accompanied by no other than Albus Dumbledore.

Albus. His friend, his mentor, his more-than-father. Alive. What was his mind playing at, he wondered. What was real and what was dream? The Headmaster approached him, a benign smile softening his century-old face. Century and a half, to be precise. And now, up-close, he looked every one of those years.

"Severus! You made it! I assume you went outside, then?"

Oh, joy! Now this hallucination of a Headmaster made no sense at all.

"'Outside'? What, pray tell, do you mean?" There was a venomous ring to his voice, an anger directed solely at this mockery of a man he had respected and loved. A man he had put to rest with his wand.

"I know this must all seem confusing, Severus, and Poppy will have my head before she lets me exert you with questions, but what is your last clear recollection?"

Ha! You can go hang yourself before I tell you that. "I was... speaking to Her... to Miss Granger."

"Yes, go on."

"And then you. And then I was here."

"Where were you before, weren't you here as well?"

"Well, yes, but you most definitely were not!" He was getting tired of this game.

"And where was I?"

"DEAD! You were all dead! And I saw each of your bodies with my own eyes. No one related it to me, I saw. So how can you possibly be talking to me and not be a ghost???"

The apparition sighed deeply, its voice sounding tired. "Severus, I must ask you to make this final effort. What is your last clear recollection in which we were all still alive?"

Severus thought for a moment. "My class. I had just finished my seventh year Slytherin-Gryffindor class. Had given H... Miss Granger detention."

The apparition's eyes twinkled. "Yes! And then you received an owl, did you not? An owl that was sent directly to your classroom by the Ministry, an official owl, was it not?"

His mind felt suddenly clear. The Ministry's owl. He had completely forgotten all about it. He had been telling Hermione the details of her detention, showing her the bottoms of the cauldrons she would be scrubbing after dinner with relish when the owl had come, flying in through the open classroom door. He would have usually waited to open the official letter until he was alone, but it was marked 'VERY URGENT' and Hermione was properly subdued, so he had just opened the parchment to see what it contained, still thinking he had to go check out Poppy's supplies. And that had been it, he had suddenly been there. He was almost afraid to ask.

"Yes, I did. What was on it? I never read the letter."

"There was no letter to read. Only the Dark Mark drawn on the parchment, keyed to your touch. Which, in turn, triggered the Purgatorium Æternus spell.

The Purgatorium Æternus spell. One of the oldest dark spells known to wizardkind. It trapped the victim's mind within a fake reality, as painful as possible. It hadn't been used in so very long because the caster had to know the victim properly in order to successfully create that fake reality. It was weaved into a parchment every night for a full lunar cycle. That explained everything. The feelings of guilt, of despair, were one of the many properties of the spell. The gruesome deaths instead of the clean Avada Kedavras because the caster had wanted the experience to be as horrid as possible. The absence of ghosts, house-elfs, portraits, even the moving staircases - all details more demanding of the caster's power than they were worth. It only failed to explain one thing. Purgatorium Æternus was a spell dependent on touch; it had to be, if it was to catch its victims unaware. How had Hermione been dragged into it?

"But... Miss Granger..?"

"Miss Granger must have tried to catch you as you fell. We assume her fingers may have inadvertently grazed the parchment."

Then that too was explained. As they had been drawn into it, the spell had placed them both where their mind had been aiming to go. He had wanted to go to the infirmary, and Hermione had no doubt been thinking how she wished she were in her common room rather than in the classroom being lectured by him. But how had he managed to break free? From what he knew of the spell, it was escapable, but the victim had to willingly go someplace that it was usually terrified of. 'I assume you went outside, then?' Of course. The grounds. Whoever had set him up for this had been too lazy to weave them into the parchment, and so had placed artificial fear of the exterior rather than used any of Severus' true fears. And it had worked better that way too for, had it been an exclusive terror of his, Hermione would probably have broken free long before he had. But he hadn't gone out into the grounds.

"But I... never left the castle. I barely left the dungeons at all. And how do you know that it was the castle, and that the grounds were the exit?"

"Young Mr. Malfoy told me, a week after you had fallen under its influence. It seems his father was the one behind this, and he overheard him talking about it; I'm afraid your cover is blown, as the muggles would say. As for Draco, I'm not sure you realise how that boy feels about you, he looks up to you more than he does to his own father. Most fortunately for him, I must say. He's been worried sick, as have I and the rest of the faculty. The student body, naturally, hasn't been informed of the true reason behind your sudden illness. And you say you never left the castle?"

"Never."

"Most interesting. Most, most interesting."

Severus knew that mischievous tone, and he didn't like it one bit. "Albus, what is it you know?"

"Well, you see, Severus, the only other way for a person to break this spell is to be happy. To be fully, truly happy."

Severus was silenced by this revelation. Hermione. She had been his salvation in so many more ways than one... He leaned back on his pillow, thinking.

"How long..?"

"Four and a half months."

"Four and a half months?!?" As far as he knew that particular spell rendered its victims insane within a week. Irreparably insane. How on earth... The Headmaster proceeded to answer that as well.

"I can only assume, given your fortunate present condition, that the spell didn't know where to turn to. It was not conceived to entrap two people together. Especially not two people as intelligent and rational as yourself and Miss Granger. It must have tried to divide itself, thus losing power. However now I fear our deadline has been set. I dread the consequences if we don't succeed in pulling Miss Granger out somehow within the week."

Silence hung heavy in the air, and Severus barely noticed as a large dosage of Potion for Dreamless Sleep was slipped through his lips. Then he knew no more.

---

When he woke up again, it was night. He was sure the Sun had been high up in the sky before, and it angered him to no end. He had been so distracted he hadn't even noticed he'd taken the Dreamless Sleep until he had swallowed it. How could they? Best intentions be damned, how could they have put him to sleep when Hermione's sanity was on the line?

As his mind worked furiously, so did his body. While, before his experience inside the Purgatorium Æternus, he would have called for Poppy to give him back his clothes, now Transfiguration was second nature to him. In a flash he was up and fully clothed in his usual teaching robes. As he was making to leave, he noticed an occupied bed. His heart raced faster as he approached it, knowing before he got there who he would find. Hermione. Lying with her eyes closed, giving a casual onlooker the illusion that she was merely sleeping. Severus was suddenly overwhelmed by pain at the thought of her alone with all the artificial demons created by the spell. He caught her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, finding a modicum of comfort in the fact that she was warm.

"Don't worry, love," he murmured against her hand, "I'll get you out. I'll get you out of there on time if it kills me."

With one last longful look he was out of the infirmary, analysing the irony of never having actually kissed her lips, never actually held her. Even if they had made love in there, they still wouldn't have in reality. She would have had nothing to regret once she discovered everyone else was still alive. It had been one thing to believe she would still be his if other people had survived, but all of her friends? All of her friends who could not, for the life of them, stand him? Oh, no, no hope could survive that. But he would still get her out. And he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he would die loving her, whether he died within a year or older than Dumbledore.

His feet knew their way to the dungeons without the need for conscious thought, and so he allowed himself to focus on the problem at hand. He was counting on one of two books he owned to help him extricate Hermione from the clutches of the spell, each one of them enough on its own to assure him a lifetime in Azkaban were it ever discovered in his possession. So absorbed in his thoughts, Severus didn't even notice Justin Finch-Fletchley until he bumped into the boy. Almost automatically he barked "20 points from Hufflepuf for being out of bed after curfew, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, and do go and see Filch for your detention tomorrow." Without another word, the Potions Master swept past the startled boy, who didn't know whether to be more amazed at the fact that his supposedly ill Professor seemed to be perfectly alright or at having gotten away without a scathing remark. Within half an hour, the entire student body knew their dreaded Potions Master was back.

---

Severus' head seemed to be splitting in half, but still he scribbled furiously. He had been locked and warded in his chambers for three days, neither eating nor sleeping, researching Potion after spell, charm after counter-curse and he was still no closer to finding a successful way out for Hermione. Now that his deadline was half over his despair was growing by the minute. His throbbing head insisted that he fetch an anti-headache potion, but he ignored it; he had no time to waste on such superfluous needs.

As a new formula presented itself there was a sudden bang and a flash of light: a very angry Albus Dumbledore was standing at his doorway, having finally decided to forcefully get past his wards.

"SEVERUS SNAPE!" The older wizard boomed, "you won't do her any good by killing yourself! I have been infinitely patient with you, but you will get up this instant and go down to the kitchens, where you will eat. After that you will sleep, for no less than six hours, or I swear by the Gods above I will cast an unforgivable on you! Are we clear?"

The times when he had seen the Headmaster so angry over the course of nearly ten decades could be counted by the fingers of one hand, and Severus knew better than to try to argue. He got up carefully, his aching joints reminding him painfully that he had been in the same position for three days, and followed Albus, properly subdued. Just as he was at the threshold, though, a thought crossed his mind, quick as lightning.

"Forgive me Albus, I need only fetch one thing." Without giving the other wizard the time to protest, Severus wasted no time in getting to his bedside table, where he took something from the drawer that he quickly slipped inside his robes. Now he was ready to eat.

---

On the fourth day Severus made some progress, although he refused to be overjoyed by it - there was still a long way to go. He was perfectly aware that he should have spoken to Draco by now, thanked the boy and offered some words of encouragement, but there would be enough time for it later. There would, however, be no 'later' for Hermione if he didn't manage to get her out in three days' time.

--

Day 5: Severus was in the middle of a particularly complicated equation when Minerva McGonagall burst into his living room. It seemed that the school's staff was making an annoying habit out of it. He opened his mouth, intent on making a cutting remark, but the Transfiguration teacher cut across him.

"Severus, it's Miss Granger... Her vitals are failing, Albus said you should know."