Longing for Lethe

The day, it seemed to Harry, was going from bad to worse. He'd seriously mis-stepped and revealed too much to Hermione. "I can't tell you right now, Hermione," he responded, trying to stonewall his friend.

Hermione pressed on. "Well, who's at this meeting, then?"

"No one."

"Harry, if it were truly no one, you wouldn't be squirming so. Who's in the meeting?"

"Madam Pomfrey."

Just then, Sybil spoke up. "I thought I heard Professor Snape's voice earlier. Is he in there as well?"

Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes, he and Ron are with Madam Pomfrey. Though I truly have no idea why."

"What an odd group to be meeting together," Hermione mused, her brain feverishly trying to work out a reason why that group should be meeting.

Her musings were interrupted by the loud slamming open of Madam Pomfrey's office door.

"Severus, please reconsider. He thought he was doing the right thing. Besides, you know the love..."

"No, I'm sorry, Poppy, but this is too much. I shall return with those potions you requested in a few hours."

"All right, Severus. Just, be careful what you say. Only the four of us are to know."

"Soon, the entire school will know, Poppy, and what then?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, everything is under control."

"Yes? Then I'm the Queen of Sheba."

"I know of a young witch who would be very disappointed to find out you were a woman all this time."

"Sarcasm is lost on you, Poppy. What do you mean, disappointed? Who?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and she threw an anxious look at Sybil. She shook her head in response.

"Why me, of course! I'm waiting for the day you whisk me off to the dungeons to make wild and passionate...potions all night long."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, and chuckled at the face Harry was making. "What did you think she was going to say?"

He turned to face her, and stammered out, "I-I wouldn't know, Hermione. I'm going to go now, um, I have homework to finish. Remember, you never saw me here, I was organising the supply room this entire time."

"Harry, why were you organising the supply room?"

"To make room in the spare - Oh ho, thought to catch me there, didn't you? Well, it didn't work. I'll visit you later, Hermione. Good day, Professor Trelawney." And with those words, he left the room, leaving the both of them to wonder what was going on.

Before they could open their mouths to speak, Madam Pomfrey's office door opened once more. "If I'd known it would cause this much trouble, I'd have never suggested this solution. He's really upset with me, isn't he?" Ron's voice wafted out of the room, into theirs.

"No, he's not upset with you, per se. It's more the situations he's been thrust into lately. It's bound to take a toll after a while. Just be careful around him during Potions. Run along now, and tell Professor Dumbledore that everything is in line for his arrival. I've things to do here."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I'll be up later to visit with Hermione."

"Maybe you'd best wait until tomorrow. She's had a busy day, and she still needs to rest some more."

"All right, tomorrow then. Good afternoon, ma'am."

As the door to the infirmary closed once more, Hermione asked the question that had been on her mind the entire time. "What was the meaning of all that?"

Sybil looked at her and responded, "I really have no idea. It's almost as if they're making preparations for a visitor. But why would they want to keep it a secret? I'll see what I can figure out by the next time we meet together. I'm going down for dinner, and you should get some more rest for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione." She gave the girl a small smile and exited the room, leaving Hermione alone to think about the very strange events of this long day.

@-->-->--> @-->-->--> @-->-->-->

It seemed as if no time had passed at all between when Sybil had left and when Severus had returned. Hermione sat up from her book and watched her door the minute she heard his voice.

"The potions you required, along with something that should help our guest sleep a little easier. St Mungo's doesn't stock this potion. Now, is she awake? I want this day to be over now."

"Severus, I'm not pleased with this either. But I'm making the best of it. You need to as well, she won't adjust to the news well, and she'll need a good support system. Which reminds me, has Minerva been told yet?"

"Poppy, we agreed to keep this between the four of us. Minerva has no need to know right now."

"I know what we agreed on, Severus. It's just that this will herald a large change in her life..."

"No, Poppy. She'll find out soon enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep."

Hermione heard Madam Pomfrey sigh, and could just imagine her shaking her head. "All right, Severus. I won't tell Minerva now. But, you are making a mistake in not letting others know. You should well know the pain of trying to keep things hidden."

"Who is it that said we needed to keep this private? It was you. Just because you've now changed your mind does not mean that I've changed mine." Her doorknob rattled, and Hermione quickly bent back over her book. Severus stepped inside the room, an angry look contorting his features

"Good evening, Professor Snape. I trust all is going well?"

"As well as to be expected with Albus. Why he agreed to this, I'll never know."

"Agreed to what?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, but I'm certain you'll find out soon enough."

"But you seemed really angry earlier today, when you and Ron were meeting with Madam Pomfrey. Nothing's wrong with me or my friends, is there?"

"There's nothing wrong with your friends, Miss Granger! Kindly stop prying into this matter. As I said, all will be revealed in time," he rather sharply replied.

Hermione drew back a little and gave him a hurt, yet quizzical look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, it's just..."

"You're out of the loop, and you feel that if you can find out what's going on, you can be a part of everything again. Is that what you were going to say?"

"Actually, yes, I was going to say something to that effect. How did you know?"

"It's one of the more standard ways a person gets in over their head and before they know it, they're caught in a trap of their own making, and by then there's no escape. Of course I could tell you about what's happening tomorrow, but that knowledge could possibly destroy a relationship begotten on the most tenuous of circumstances. Think on it no longer."

"But, is someone coming to stay here tomorrow? I heard you tell Madam Pomfrey that you had brewed a sleeping potion for him that St Mungo's doesn't use. Why would a St Mungo's patient be transferred here?"

"Miss Granger, enough! There are some things in this world that you do not need to know, and this is one of them! Now, have you been assigned anything else by your teachers that is troubling you?"

"I haven't been assigned anything new, sir. At least, not yet."

"It's good to see you've got your temper back. You'll be up and walking before you know it, and then it will be back to class. I must say, everyone's been asking after you - even Draco," he casually said, watching how she would react to his statement.

Hermione stiffened slightly at his words, her mind racing over why Draco would be asking about her. Trying to be just as casual, she responded, "Why would Malfoy want to know about my recovery? After all, I'm just a lowly Muggle-born." Her words sounded stilted, even to her own ears, but she hoped he would take them at face value.

Of course, he noticed her stiffen at Draco's name and the sudden, far-away look she'd gotten in her eyes, but he chose not to make an issue of it. Instead, he moved on to another topic, vowing to himself that he would take his suspicions to Albus later that evening. "Well, then, shall we proceed to tonight's sonnet?"

"Sonnets, professor. I'm going to read fifteen, and you'll follow with sixteen. They're meant to be read together."

"Very well then, Miss Granger, begin."

She opened the sonnet book to XV and began to read:

"When I consider everything that grows

Holds in perfection but a little moment,

That this huge stage presenteth naught but shows

Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

When I perceive that men as plants increase,

Cheered and checked even by the selfsame sky;

Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height's decrease,

And wear their brave state out of memory:

Then the conceit of this inconstant stay

Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,

Where wasteful time debateth with decay

To change your day of youth to sullied night;

And all in war with time for love of you,

As he takes from you, I engraft you new."

She handed the slim volume to Severus, and once he found his place, he began.

"But wherefore do you not a mightier way

Make war upon this bloody tyrant time,

And fortify yourself in your decay

With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?

Now stand you on top of happy hours,

And many maiden gardens yet unset

With virtuous wish would you bear your living flowers,

Much liker that your painted counterfeit.

So should the lines of life that life repair

Which this time's pencil or my pupil pen

Neither in inward worth nor outward fair

Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.

To give away yourself keeps yourself still,

And you must live drawn by you own sweet skill."

Slowly, he closed the book and handed it back to Hermione. "That's all well and good, Miss Granger, but what does it mean?"

"What?"

"Well, we've read these words, but is there something behind the words?"

"Of course there is!"

Then what is it?"

"Well, Shakespeare is saying in these two verses that with his writing, he's going to make the person he loves forever young. The static perception of the written word in these verses lends itself to making certain a person never ages. Yet, he knows that his love should be active in life, not allowing the poet to be the only one immortalising his existence."

"Interesting. Do you really feel that is what sixteen is about?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, it is a companion to fifteen, but could you not also read into it as thus: instead of being a Professor Quirrell, to fight off time's grip, you should be more like a Professor Dumbledore?"

"Where do you get that from?" she asked, giving him a curious look.

"The first two lines well defend my argument. Look at Quirrell - all he'll be remembered for is being a host for Voldemort. Yet Albus will be remembered for so much more, like the uses of dragon's blood, defeating Grindewald, being Headmaster of Hogwarts. He's gone out of his way to do something with his life, and more people will remember him long after he has died than now remember Quirrell. It doesn't matter how well you write of a person or think of a person - if they do nothing with their life, they will not be remembered."

"Even if the person is evil?"

"Especially so, Miss Granger. History seems to record more readily the evil men commit in the name of their cause, then in the unsung heroes that do continual good."

"So, where do you fall, Professor Snape? Will you be remembered for being a Death Eater, or will people recall all the good you did for the Order?"

"That's saying people will remember, Miss Granger. Are you certain that in the years following my death people will ever recall the name Snape? I'm the last of my line and with my death, the cursed name of Snape will die with me."

"What about a wife?" The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He looked at her, and she quickly looked away, a blush slowly covering her face. "I think you need some sleep, Miss Granger. No doubt this day has tired you out, causing you to say things most strange. Good evening." He stood and walked out the door, as Hermione just watched him leave, still too shocked to say another word.

Finally, after he'd been gone for five minutes, normal thoughts returned to Hermione. 'Why do I always open my mouth at exactly the wrong time around him?' she thought. Sighing, she laid back into her pillows and was soon fast asleep.

Shortly before morning broke, Hermione began to dream...

@-->-->--> @-->-->--> @-->-->-->

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman into the bonds of holy matrimony. Love is a beautiful thing, a treasure most rare. That these two have found it, after so much time, is indeed a wondrous thing. Now, Severus, do you take Hermione to be you wife, to have and to hold, in magic and in Muggles for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"And do you, Hermione, take Severus to be your husband, to have and to hold, in magic and in Muggles, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Here are your rings, symbols of your undying love and fidelity. Whenever you see these rings may you be reminded of all that you hold dear in each other. Please, take them now and place them on the other's finger." As they did, the priest spoke on. "As a community, do you, the teachers of Hogwarts, promise to watch out for these two lovers, ensuring they have a fair chance at married life?"

"We do," the addressed responded.

' "Then, by the powers vested in me by Merlin himself, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Severus reached up to remove Hermione's veil. She shivered with anticipation and closed her eyes. Feeling a set of petal-soft lips caress her own, she opened her eyes, only to be greeted by Gilderoy Lockhart's eyes...

@-->-->--> @-->-->--> @-->-->-->

Hermione sat up, suddenly awake, a headache pounding her brain to pulp. 'Thank God it was only a dream,' she thought, as she tried to get back to sleep.