Regaining

I have read a lot of fan fic. If I have borrowed anything from stories and not recognized the original, it is because plot bunnies hop in random order to various people coincidentally. Themes may seem familiar, but no ripping off is intended. :)

Regaining by Vivien B.

Chapter 7: Refer

Refer - 4. to direct (a person) to someone or something for aid, information, etc.

Hermione fled the dungeons. Tears were blurring her eyes to the extent that she tripped more than once over trick stairs and other obstacles. She didn't know why she had insisted on hearing the harsh truth she had suspected. But she did know why, really; she was too curious by half. She wanted to know because she needed to know. She had also wanted someone to blame and revile. That the someone turned out to be the one person who could most effectively help her.. well, that was just her dumb luck. She wiped her face once she got to the main castle floor. She didn't want anyone to see her in this state, except for Dumbledore whom she wanted to speak with in a bad way. With the revelation of Snape's involvement in her poisoning - minimal though it was, she knew in her logical brain - she needed to decide how she could proceed with her treatment, or his class for that matter. The thought of being near him again made her insides crawl with loathing and pity and rage and a jumble of other emotions she could hardly name, let alone understand.

As a Prefect she had been given the password for the Headmaster's office in case of emergency. Since she had been ill, Lavender Brown had been acting as Prefect in her place. She hoped the password hadn't changed in the meantime. Hermione approached the stone gargoyle marking the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Chocolate meringue," she said, and the gargoyle moved aside. She stepped onto the spiral staircase and was moved upwards to the Headmaster's office. When she opened the door, she found him waiting behind his desk. Two mugs of hot chocolate were steaming on a tray on the desk.

"Do come in, Miss Granger," he said, gesturing for her to sit down. "Have some hot chocolate. I have been expecting you."

Hermione took a mug off the tray and sat down in one of the armchairs beside the roaring fire. She sat for a moment looking down at her hands, willing the tears to stop. Dumbledore waited patiently. When she looked as if she had gained control of herself enough to speak, Dumbledore asked gently, "What would you like to talk about, Hermione?"

Hermione's words and tears spilled forth equally then as she described the conversation that had taken place. She told him also of her anger, her fears, her wish to feel normal again, and more things she had not planned on mentioning at all. At some point Fawkes had flown over to sit on her shoulder. With the rush of unburdening herself, she had not noticed him until she felt a peaceful warmth start to penetrate her shaking body. She reached up to stroke his feathers and finally took a deep, calming breath.

"Sir, I am at a loss," she said, "I want to hate someone. I want to make someone pay for what they did to me. Since You-Know-Who is not accessible, I guess it's easier to blame Professor Snape. I mean... I know that he designed the potion, but when he told me about destroying it... He looked so bitter and sad that I found myself feeling sorry for him, too. And that didn't sit well at all. I'm in such a muddle, Sir. I can't bear the thought of being near Professor Snape because I can't bear feeling so jumbled. But what I'm really having trouble reconciling is... Sir, are you certain that Professor Snape had no involvement with the poison that was given to me other than doing the first research? I mean, we've pretty much figured out he's a spy for you, but are you sure he had nothing to do with this?" The anger and doubt in her eyes flared again as she looked into Dumbledore's wise face.

"I am absolutely certain." He had replied with no hesitation. "I have other contacts besides Professor Snape who keep me informed of many things. While I don't know who has been working on the Elixir or who slipped it in your drink yet, I know that it was not Severus Snape. I have known Professor Snape longer than you have been alive, Hermione. As you trust me, you can trust him."

"It's just that," she hesitated, "he's never been like my other teachers. He is so... unpleasant to me, in class and out. Then we had our first meeting, and he was... helpful. Nicer than he had ever been to me. But even then, I had a feeling he was entangled in this more than merely as a knowledgeable teacher. I wanted to know the truth, but now I think it would be easier to have never known."

"That is often the pitfall of those who desire knowledge," Dumbledore said, "Often we learn things we feel we can not bear to know, but we learn to bear them nonetheless. It would be easy, and even understandable, for you to vilify Professor Snape. However, as I have said many times, sometimes the easiest choice isn't the right choice to make."

Hermione sat thoughtfully, sipping her drink. She knew Dumbledore was right, but it was still very hard for her to think clearly in this matter. "Sir, I don't know if I can... if I want to work with Professor Snape at all. Isn't there anyone else who could help me? Please?"

"My dear child," Dumbledore said gently. "You have had more trauma and pain to face than anyone should. You are grieving, and anger is part of that process. I will not force you to do anything that you don't want to, but I'm going to encourage you to continue what you have begun. Professor Snape has been affected by your poisoning more than you can imagine. He has felt a great deal of despair knowing that ideas from his past have been used to do such damage to you. He's always thought a great deal of you even though he would never let you know. That is simply not his way. Making you better would be a way for him to further redeem himself from his previous mistakes. But he would be consulted on a regular basis no matter who helped you, so he would still be part of your cure. I think he is the best person to work directly with you, even if matters are complicated by tonight's events."

"I'll think about it," Hermione said miserably. "I.. I can't make a decision now."

"Understandable, my dear. It is a very hard choice to make. I will respect your decision and help you in any way I can."

"I appreciate that, Sir," Hermione said. "This is all so unfair." Her breath hitched, and she tried desperately not to start crying again.

"Hermione, I wish I could tell you that life would always be fair, but that is not how it is. Life can be what you make of it, though, and those who are strong can turn that into a blessing. You are one of the strongest people I have known, child, so do not despair yet," said Dumbledore. He waited a moment and then walked over to stand beside her chair. "Now, I believe it is time for dinner. Would you accompany me to the Great Hall?"

"I'm not sure I can eat anything," Hermione replied, "My stomach feels like it's tied in knots. I definitely don't want to talk to anyone."

Dumbledore pulled a an ornate key from one of his pockets. "I don't wish for you to miss a meal, but I have had an idea. This key opens a special room near the library. It is an excellent place for thinking when decisions lay heavy on the mind. If you would like to borrow the room, you may." Hermione nodded her head, and Dumbledore placed the key in her outstretched palm. "I trust you know how to reach the kitchens after hours?" he asked with a wink.

Hermione smiled, "Yes, and I promise I'll try to eat something later. Thank you for the key. Where in the library corridor is the room?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Finding the room is part of its charm. Enjoy your search. I wish you good thoughts. Shall we?" He held out an arm, and she took it. Together they walked out the door and down to the main hall. When Hermione left for the library corridor, Dumbledore watched her go. He wished he could take some of the hurt away from her. However one of the hardest lessons he had learned in his long life was that pain must be worked through. It was a harsh teacher, but one of the best.

-------------------------------------------

Hermione had gone up and down the library corridor a few times when she finally found the door that fit the key. 'I know I passed this spot at least twice, and there was no door before,' thought Hermione, fitting the key to the lock. She opened the door and stepped into the room. As she took in what was before her, her eyes opened wide and a small "oh" escaped her surprised lips. She was in a room made entirely of windows and filled with inviting chairs and sofas, hanging plants, and shelves of books. The wall beside the door was a filled with a replica of a mountain and a running water fall. The trickling of the water filled the room with the most delightful sound. The air contained a tinge of lavender, and as she breathed it in, she felt her mind relax and clear somewhat. She walked around the room, stopping by one of the windows to look up at the snow falling softly around the castle. The room was very warm, but there was no fireplace.

Hermione stopped by a shelf of books. Golden numbers were engraved on the spines of each one - 1961/62, 1952/53, and so on. Thinking they might be school annuals, she located the latest of the books. It was for last year - 1995/96. She settled down on a sofa, tucking her feet under her. She knew she was supposed to be here thinking, but she had to satisfy her curiosity first. The book turned out to be a photo album. It had pictures of staff events at the beginning. The first page was captioned "Welcome Back to the New School Year" and had pictures of Hogwarts teachers smiling and laughing at a picnic. Professor Flitwick was waving from one of the pictures wearing tropical patterned robes and sporting a deep suntan. Professor McGonagall looked more relaxed than Hermione ever had seen her as she waved from a deck chair. A group picture showed the whole staff holding on to each other's hands or clasping shoulders, waving and smiling. All that was but Professor Snape, who was at the very outskirts of the group, watching the other teachers, but not quite joining in. Hermione turned the page to find pictures of the Sorting Ceremony for that year. She frowned. 'I've never seen cameras in the Great Hall before,' she thought. 'Where did these pictures come from?'

She kept leafing through the album, finding more pictures of classroom settings and school events. One very fine picture was of Harry, beaming and raising the Golden Snitch from the first Quidditch match of that year. Then she came upon a few more pages of staff pictures. These pages were captioned "Celebration in Honor of Severus Snape's First Published Work in Ars Alchemical". The album pages between the pictures were filled with the teacher's signed congratulatory messages. In the pictures Professor Snape looked a bit chagrined to be the center of so much attention, but he also looked... happy. That was definitely a smile on his face (which kept looking down in embarrassment) in one picture where Dumbledore was holding up the parchment with his article and shaking his hand. Hermione studied the picture closely for a few minutes. She was relaxing now and able to focus a bit better.

As she continued flipping through pages, marveling at the candid images of her friends and herself in moments of happiness and success, she found the most surprising picture yet. It was a picture from Potions class. She remembered that day very well because Professor Snape had given the class an impossibly difficult assignment. They had only just begun to learn Healing potions, and he had saddled them with making an advanced Injury Repellent. No one had a clue as to how to attempt it, but Hermione had known straight-away. The picture showed herself holding up a vial of clear, glowing liquid. She was smiling triumphantly because she knew she had made it correctly. What was most astonishing was Professor Snape. He was standing behind her, watching her with what could only be pride. She recalled he had whisked by her that day and held up the vial to show the rest of the class, making some scathing remark that she had ignored. This image was not that of a mocking, snide teacher. She put the album down on the sofa beside her and went to look for other albums. She was looking for earlier ones which would have more revealing moments in time. She was very interested in gaining better insight to this complicated person who had become entwined in her life.

--------------------------------------------------

Severus had not been at dinner. Dumbledore had not really expected that he would be. He had sent a note to Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table, letting them know that Hermione was safe but indisposed. He had watched them growing more and more agitated when she had not come to dinner, and he wanted them to be at ease. As the Headmaster left the Great Hall on his way to the dungeons, he had the passing thought that he was going to be quite the busybody this evening. 'Ah well,' he thought, 'Better a busybody than a lay about.' Something had to be done with Severus and Hermione. The girl was the stronger of the two at this point. She would not be paralyzed with guilt. Severus would need whatever help Dumbledore could give him. 'Old man, you knew when you started this that Severus lacked in people skills,' Dumbledore chided himself. 'He's a good man deep down. He simply needs firm encouragement to get him moving.'

--------------------------------------------------

Severus hadn't moved from his office. He had finally come to his senses enough to Summon his wand and lock the classroom door. Other than that he had remained motionless, staring into the blackness. The thoughts that wrenched his mind were much blacker than the inside of the room. He should have been gentler with the girl, he should have known about the new plans for the Leeching Elixir, he should have stayed away from the Dark Lord's followers all those years ago. 'I wear black on the outside because that's how I feel inside,' he randomly thought. He wanted to make amends, but he doubted he would be able to now. Hermione would not want to be in the same room with him, and he didn't blame her in the least. Sometimes he wished he could be out of the room when he was in it. He remembered a research project he had done for Muggle Studies when he had been a student. He was studying some of the more unusual religious groups of medieval Muggle society. He had come across a sect called the Flagellants who whipped themselves in attempts to rid their bodies of sin. In the years since, he had often thought he should try it and see if it would work. He doubted that any pain he could inflict physically could ever surpass the pain he caused himself mentally, but maybe it was worth a try. "Oh gods," he moaned. "Must I always ruin everything I touch?"

"Sitting in the dark again, eh, Severus," said a voice from the doorway. "It's not good for uplifting the spirit, you know."

Startled, Severus looked up to see Dumbledore entering the office. "Lumos!" Dumbledore commanded, and the light globes in the room brightened. Severus blinked like a bat in the noon day sun. "Now really, Severus, what is to be gained by brooding in the dark?"

"I want to be alone, Headmaster," Severus grumbled. "Please respect my wishes."

"You have been alone for much too long," Dumbledore replied gravely. "Shrinking into yourself will do nothing to help Hermione Granger. It will do nothing for you either but make you less effective in the war we need to fight. Severus, you have a responsibility to the girl and to yourself. This is a chance for you to remedy an old evil."

"I can't bloody well do anything if Miss Granger refuses to be in my presence," Severus snapped. "After tonight.... I wasn't ready for her to ask me about the history of the Elixir. I should have been, but I was most certainly not. I didn't want to tell another lie, either. Now I have made an even worse mess of things than I thought possible."

Dumbledore conjured a chair and sat down beside the dejected Potions Master. "Miss Granger has been to see me," he said softly. "She is very upset, but I think she will be all right, in time. She spoke to me of the disturbing feelings she has as a result of the drastic change in her life. The grief and the anger she expressed reminded me of another troubled soul I counseled once, a long time ago. She will need time to sort through these feelings, and then she will need your help."

Severus did not respond for several minutes. "I want to help her. I could not stand for her to lose the life she deserves in our world." He sighed and slowly looked into the older man's eyes. "How do I do it? How do I apologize for what I have done?"

"Well, Severus, perhaps you simply open your mouth and apologize. No snide tone, no looming, no point taking. Talk to her as someone who cares, since you so obviously do. Hermione mentioned that the first session went well. She said you were very helpful to her."

"I can barely speak to you about emotional matters, Headmaster, much less a student," replied Severus discouragingly "The child hates me, as she well should."

"Very well, Severus," said Dumbledore, a bit exasperated. "If I can't talk you out of you self-loathing than I shall give you an order." He took out another ornate key from his pocket. "Go now. That is your penance."

Severus looked at the key with horror. "Oh please, Sir, no," he pleaded. "I never do well in the Tranquillity Parlor."

Dumbledore pushed the key into Severus's hand. "Too bad, Severus. My mind is made up. Shall we?" He stood and waited for Severus to join him. Severus did so reluctantly, and together they left the dungeons for the library corridor.

--------------------------------------------------