Longing for Lethe

Longing for Lethe

By: pandorabox82

AKA: Steph

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I am not anywhere near JKR’s writing style because I am not her. I just happen to be borrowing her characters for a little bit so I can get this story out of me. Don’t sue, because I am a typical college student, and have nothing.

Author's Note: Okay, I can't stop writing this story! Today (13 June 2002) I wrote in three different stories, all because I can't ignore a single one of them! Many thanks go out to those of you who have written reviews. I love all the kind words, and they do seem to help motivate me. Anyway, in this chapter, y'all might hate me, but everything will be resolved in chapter seven, I promise! Look for Sibyll to play a larger part in this story, as she has decided that she likes being voiced this way and now demands page time! Also, by the end of this chapter, you may be able to figure out who I base my Sibyll on, if only Warner Bros. would listen to me! If not, then by the end of seven, you should all know. Clues abound in this chapter as to her celebrity visage, if you can pick up on the hints! More Shakespeare, angst, roses, mercy, and just why Sibyll and Poppy dislike Lily are brought to light in this chapter! Enjoy!

"I think I pushed her too hard today, Severus. She's still unconscious, in her room."

"What happened, Poppy?"

"I got her on her feet, and she took a few steps, but it happened too soon, I see that now. Hopefully, tomorrow will go a bit better than today did. When you go in, you can awaken her."

"I'll be sure to, Poppy." Turning from the matron, he glided noiselessly into Hermione's enclave. On her table, he set a book of Potions theories, along with an explanation of what he expected her to do with the book. "Nothing too complicated from me, I actually want to see the results some time this century," he said aloud.

At his voice, Hermione stirred slightly before coming fully awake. Stretching her arms, she smiled at him. "Oh, you're here already."

"Yes, I'm here," he replied while taking a seat in the chair at her bedside.

She looked at the table, filled with all the unfinished work, then back at Severus. Deciding she'd wait on the schoolwork, she asked the first thing that popped into her mind. "Did you know Sibyll when you were in school?" She mentally cursed herself for bringing up a question that dealt with his past.

His answer came almost immediately. "Who didn't know Sibyll? She started school a year after me, and by my seventh year, she'd "predicted" my death seven or eight times. By then, though, I'd figured out her little trick. She really would have made a good Slytherin, but she wasn't devious enough. She's had a few close predictions since beginning her teaching here, but she sticks to death to keep her students in line. Really wish I'd been the one to think of that."

"It is brilliant, isn't it? She's been in to see me a few times, and she can be really nice when she's not focusing on the future."

"In some respects, you remind me of her, Miss Granger. She was just as bright a student as you are, though you are not plagued by the visions as she was."

"What do you mean, not plagued by the visions?"

"As a Seer, she had some graphic visions while in school. Albus figures the severity of them, on a young, untrained Seer, changed her. I mean, she was Seeing some of the worst of what Voldemort was doing, or going to do, and one cannot walk away from that unchanged. That's why she began to predict everyone's death - it was an escape for her, do you see that?"

"Sort of, I guess. But wasn't there anyone to help her?"

"By then, we were all fighting our own personal battles. She kind of got lost in the shuffle. Ask her for her story, she'll readily tell it to you."

"I'll be sure to do that the next time I see her."

"Now, about this Shakespeare guy. Was he a Muggle?"

"Very much so. Did you enjoy the Sonnets?"

"Yes, though it is hard to believe that someone with such extraordinary talent was a mere Muggle."

"I know what you mean. Is there any one sonnet that stuck out to you?"

"Yes, I'd actually like to have you read Sonnet 145."

"But I don't read well aloud."

"I'd still like to hear it by other than my voice."

"All right," she said with a sigh. "Can I see the book, please? I'm not familiar with that sonnet." He slipped the slight volume out of his pocket and handed it to her. She quickly turned to the requested sonnet and scanned it for a moment before she began to read. "Those lips that Love's own hands did make,/Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'/To me that languished for her sake./But when she saw my woeful state,/Straight in her heart did mercy come,/Chiding that tongue that ever sweet/Was used in giving gentle doom,/And taught it thus anew to greet:/'I hate' she altered with an end,/That followed it as gentle day/Doth follow night, who like a fiend/From heaven to hell is flown away./'I hate' from hate away she threw,/And saved my life, saying 'not you'."

"I thought you said you didn't read aloud?"

"I haven't since I was a small child. I had a slight lisp, and tried to avoid speaking in front of others for long periods of time. Was it that bad?"

"No, it was perfect, just as I thought it should sound."

She gave him a slight smile before asking him another question. "Why this sonnet? Was it because of what happened between you and Lily?"

The moment that question was asked, Hermione knew she'd done it again. At once, Severus became very distant, drawing into himself, and the cold mask of indifference graced his visage. In a cold, emotionless voice, he spat out, "What do you mean, about what happened between Lily and myself?"

Flustered, she stammered, "Well, Harry, Ron, and I always assumed something happened between Lily and you…"

His voice cut her off before she could complete her thought. "Never assume anything. People have died for their assumptions, Miss Granger. You can tell your friends that tomorrow. Good evening." He turned and strode out of the room, barely catching Hermione's anguished look and the first tears that fell from her eyes. 'Well, you've managed to make the gel cry again. Nicely done, Severus, nicely done,' he thought to himself as he made his way to his rooms.

Poppy entered the room and asked Hermione if she wanted to talk.

"Could you get Professor Trelawney, please?" she asked in a watery voice, her eyes luminous with unshed tears.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll return with her," Poppy said before leaving the room.

As soon as the matron had left the room, Hermione buried her face in her pillow, and began to sob. Minutes passed, and she felt two people enter her room. She looked up, expecting to find Sibyll and Poppy, but found only Sibyll. "I royally fucked everything up with him," she whispered, before the tears began again.

Sibyll moved to Hermione's side, sat on the bed, and took the shaking girl into her arms. "I'm sure everything will be fine in a few days, dear. What happened, though, to make you feel this way?"

Breaking from the warm embrace, Hermione said, "Well, he'd come for his nightly visit, and we talked about you. He thinks you would have made a good Slytherin, if you'd been more devious. Then we got to Shakespeare, and he asked me to read a sonnet to him. It was about a guy who loved a girl, but she hated him. After seeing how much agony the guy was in though, she amended her statement, saying that while she hated, she didn't hate him. Of course, I thought of Lily and him, and asked him about it. And then the words were out of my mouth, and I knew I'd said the wrong thing. I almost heard the slamming of his emotional door. I think I really hurt him, dredging up memories of a painful past. What if he never forgives me?"

"He will, he just has to trust you more. I know you don't really trust Divination, but do you want me to throw the cards for you? They are slightly more reliable than other methods I teach."

"If you want to, you may. Any help in figuring out where this is going would be helpful." Hermione leaned towards Sibyll and took her hands. "Sibyll, I love him so much," she whispered.

"That's why it hurts so, m'dear. Hold onto love, because it's the only thing worth holding onto, and soon you'll find that you're no longer holding onto love, but that love's holding on to you. He'll come to his senses, just give him time."

"Thanks, Sibyll."

"No problem. I'll come by tomorrow, and we can talk more then, all right?"

"That'd be wonderful."

"Until tomorrow then, m'dear. Get some sleep now, I know how crying tires one out."

Feeling a little foolish, Hermione asked, "Wait! Will you sing me a song before you go? Whenever I was upset, my mother would sing to me before I went to sleep."

Smiling indulgently at the girl, she asked in return, "What would you like to hear?"

"Well, there is this Muggle show called "Me and My Girl", and there's this song in it called, 'Once You…'"

"'Lose Your Heart'. Yes, I've always loved that song!" As she began to sing in a light soprano, Hermione drifted off into a deep sleep. As soon as Sibyll was certain Hermione was asleep, she spoke. "You can come out now, Severus. She's asleep, and won't know you're here."

He took off the Invisibility Cloak, and gave Sibyll a baleful look. "I'll stay the night, watching over her."

"I'd expect as much, Severus. Keep watch, make sure her dreams are pleasant."

"I will Sibyll. What was it she whispered to you?"

"I'm not one to kiss and tell. When she's ready, she'll tell you." With those words, Sibyll turned and left the room.

Severus went over to Hermione's bedside, and took a seat in the chair that Sibyll had so recently vacated. He reached out to take Hermione's hand, but he hesitated and slowly drew his hand back into his lap. 'No, I've hurt her tonight, so I must only be a watchman, nothing else,' he thought.

As the hours slowly ticked by, Severus began to feel himself nodding off. Around one in the morning, sleep claimed him. Soon it was morning, and he came awake slowly, noting that in the night, his hand had become entwined with Hermione's. After carefully extracting himself from her grasp, he quickly conjured up a small black cat plushie and put it in her arms. Then he conjured a perfect cream rose, and left that on her table. He then left her room.

Hermione awoke a short while later, the stuffed cat still in her arms. Looking at it, she wondered who could have given it to her. She then noticed the cream-coloured rose on her table. Picking it up, she breathed in the heady scent. 'Neville and Ginny must have left this before going to Hogsmeade,' she thought. 'Strange, though, his scent is still strong in my room, I'm certain though that he won't return to me. How could he, after what happened yesterday?'

Poppy walked in, carrying Hermione's breakfast tray. "Ready for a quiet day, m'dear?"

"Most assuredly, Madam Pomfrey. Do you mind if we skip my treatments today? I'm still a little worn out from all that happened yesterday," Hermione responded, a tired, wistful look in her eyes.

Taking a look at her, Poppy felt herself soften. "Just for today. You can't afford to lose your progress that you've made so far."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"I'll just leave this here, then and let you have some peace," Poppy said as she set the tray on Hermione's table. She then turned and left the room.

After she'd finished eating, Hermione pulled the first book on the pile into her lap. Opening it, she realised that it was her Potions assignment. Quickly she read over the instructions Severus had left for her. 'I want at least 2½ feet of parchment on practically administrating one of these Potions theories in the classroom.' She looked through the book and decided on a theory, which in all reality would be quite simple to administer to their class, given necessary time to develop it. She began to write out her essay, pausing when she wrote the word mercy on the parchment. "Mercy. That's how I can tell him I'm sorry. I hope I still have it memorised!" Going over the passage of Shakespeare in her head, she discovered she still knew it. She finished her Potions essay at five feet, eight inches and closed it in the book, setting it on the 'done' pile.

Her stomach growled, just as Madam Pomfrey brought her lunch. "Madam Pomfrey, can you see if Sibyll is around? She said she was going to stop by some time today, but I have some really good news for her, and would like to see her now." She smiled at Poppy, happiness once more in her face.

"I'll go and get her. Hurry and eat, I shan't be gone long."

Just as Hermione was finishing the light lunch she had been brought, Poppy returned with Sibyll. Looking up, Hermione gave her a bright smile.

"That's my girl! I take it you figured out how to get him to forgive you?"

"Oh, Sibyll, I think it will work, as long as he come to me tonight."

"I'm sure that he will come. So, what is it that you plan on doing?"

"Well, last night, the sonnet he had me read had the word 'mercy' in it. Then, today, while I was writing my Potions essay, I once more used that word. There's this speech in Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice that talks about mercy and forgiveness. Severus seems really taken with Shakespeare, and I believe I can reach him through this."

"Very good, you've found his interests, and are using it to help you. I remember in school, he hated anything to do with silly romantic ideas, even when he and Lily were together."

"Sibyll, what were you like in school?"

"What makes you ask, dear?"

"Well, Severus said you and I were a lot alike, only I was never, how'd he say it? Oh, yes, plagued by the visions as you were. Were things really that horrible for you?"

"Well, no one realised I was a Seer until I was about seven, when I predicted the death of the boy who lived next door. Not long after that, I began to see visions not unlike those Harry had. By the time I'd entered Hogwarts, I had a thirst for knowledge, to try and find a way to stop the visions. The previous professor said I shouldn't neglect my gift, that I should hone it, perfect it. I never had a choice in classes - I was signed up for Divinations the moment I entered Hogwarts."

"But what if you wanted something different for yourself?"

"There was never any choice. True Seers are rare, and so they must be trained. The only fun I had was in 'predicting' the deaths of others. Only Severus ever really understood my reasons in doing it. My seventh year, I was offered the position of Divinations professor. Seemed as if the old termagant had Seen her death, and wanted to spend what little time that remained with her family. I gladly accepted, Hogwarts had become my safe haven."

"How did you and Professor McGonagall get to be on such bad terms?"

"My little joke backfired on me. She was never a believer in my branch of magic. After all, with each decision we make the future changes. While I normally stuck to the other students, one day during Transfigurations, I got a particularly clear vision involving Minerva. I told her of my vision, and she said in a voice loud enough for every student in the class to hear, 'We've more important studies than your little fantasies. Sit down Sibyll.' After class, she called me up to her desk, and informed me of the accuracy of my vision. After that, I had to fight for my grades in that class. Seems she thought I was being funny at her expense, but I would never do that to someone I respected. We never spoke of the vision again, but to this day, the most we’ve been is civil to one another."

"Did you know Lily well? Madam Pomfrey didn't seem overly fond of her for some reason."

"Small wonder. I was there the day Severus found out about Lily and James. One could hear his heart breaking, if one had been listening. Most preferred to point and laugh. I saw him throw a desperate glance to Dumbledore before turning and running from the room. I rose from the table I'd been sitting at, fixed the two with a most haughty look, and followed after Severus. I found him in an alcove, trying not to cry or hit something. I convinced him to come back to breakfast, and once we’d entered the Great Hall together, I wrapped my arm around his waist and gave anyone who even dared to smirk a death glare. He sat at my table that morning, and I tried to keep our conversation on things that wouldn't remind him of the betrayal.

"A few nights later, I woke from my sleep with a start. I had had a most disturbing dream, and somehow knew that Severus was in trouble. I never knew how much until he returned to us from the clutches of that monster. You, my dear, have the power to change his bitterness about his past, though I doubt he'd be any less snarky."

"You mean he and Lily were together?"

"Yes, and she treated him exactly like every other person who has ever really mattered in his life, even Dumbledore, has treated him, like he was expendable. That's one thing you must never do, be casual with his heart. Though most don't care to think he has one beating in his chest, his is a rare heart, one easily bruised, so he has built a wall between himself and the rest of the world. I doubt if even your love will break down that wall, however, in time, he'll let you in."

"Sibyll, did you ever fall in love?"

"Yes, once a long time ago. But he…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you two, but you have a visitor, Hermione," Madam Pomfrey stated as she poked her head in. "Sibyll, it's almost time for dinner. You two have talked away the afternoon!"

"Who's here to see me, Madam Pomfrey?"

"Ginny Weasley. Should I send her in?"

"Yes, just give me a moment to say good-bye to Sibyll." Madam Pomfrey nodded and exited, leaving the women alone once more. "When you come back, I want to hear about you love, and what happened."

"All right, since you want to know. I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon, and you can tell me all that went on between you and him." She got up from her chair and left the room as Poppy ushered Ginny in.

As soon as Poppy left, Ginny began to speak. "I want to know who comes to see you after dinner. Why are you keeping it a secret from us?"

"I have to right now, Ginny. He's not exactly comfortable with these visits, and if my friends knew, he'd be mortified."

"Just tell me it's not Draco, 'Mione. I can see you with anyone but him."

"Don't worry, Gin. It could never be Draco." She let her gaze wander around the room, finally coming to rest on the cream rose. "I wanted to thank you and Neville for the gift you left this morning."

"What gift? I don't remember Neville mentioning getting anything for you today. What was it that was left?"

"That rose over there, and a stuffed cat. I just assumed it was you and Neville, because you've brought gifts before."

"I'm sorry, I'd love to say that one of us brought it, but I don't remember Neville mentioning it, and we left right away this morning. Unless Neville's taken to getting up early, I doubt he left it here himself. Maybe your visitor left it here for you."

A small smile softened Hermione's face. "Maybe he did. I would really like it if he did. Maybe that would mean he wasn't as mad at me as I thought." Just then, Madam Pomfrey popped in, carrying two trays of food.

"There's not really enough time for Ginny to get down to dinner, so I thought she could eat with you," she said as she set the trays down on the table piled with Hermione's books.

"That would be nice. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." As they dug into the food, Hermione suddenly remembered that Harry and Ron had never brought her the book she needed. Through a mouthful of food, she asked, "Ginny, could you remember to prod Ron and Harry to find me at least a picture of a German castle? I really want to get some of this work finished before I'm thirty!"

"I'll make sure they get one to you. Sometimes boys have no brains."

"I'll agree to that, but add that it goes both ways." Hermione finished up her dinner in silence, and after a few futile attempts to get her drawn into a conversation, Ginny gave up and also ate silently. As their dessert found its way into their stomachs, Hermione hears the door to the infirmary open.

"Thank you for coming Professor Snape. I need a new batch of that Fever Potion, I've had quite a few cases lately, and some more cough syrup would be nice. Come with me." The sound of her voice moved away from Ginny and Hermione, and Hermione gave a small sigh of relief.

"I'd better leave, Hermione. I don't want Professor Snape to catch me here. I am going against Dumbledore's orders about your visiting hours." Ginny stood, and took both trays with her as she left.