Regaining

Any feedback would be great. This is the first thing I have ever written which looks like it may go on for more than a chapter or two. I owe a great deal of gratitude to Riley's "Pawn to Queen" for the idea of Severus Snape not being just a miserable meanie. Thanks to the folks at Snapefans and WIKTT who just are so much fun. Thank you to my Beta readers Lallybroch at Sugar Quill (chapters 1-8 so far) and Jen and Aspen who is also supplying me with Muggle science as we speak. And last but not least, thanks to TwinkleDru for bringing the whole thing up off-topic on the Buffy list.

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

Chapter 12: Resolve

Resolve - 2. to change; transform. 4. to determine; reach a decision. 5. To solve or explain

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Hermione's parents greeted her warmly on the Muggle platform between Platforms 9 and 10 of Kings Cross Station. She noticed that they didn't ask her how things were going at school. Instead they'd simply asked her how she was feeling. The family dropped Crookshanks off at home and then went to Hermione's favorite Muggle restaurant for a welcome home dinner. Hermione had forced out semi-truths of jolly school stories until she'd lost her appetite. Denying took a lot of energy that she didn't have. She had thought she wouldn't say a word to her parents about the last few months, but she quickly became aware of the subtle, worried glances directed towards her and the silences which would hang between them for uncomfortable moments. Back in her bedroom as she unpacked, she tried to work out how she would tell her parents why she'd been withholding the truth all these years.

Hermione went downstairs and peeked around the door of the Granger living room. "Mummy? Daddy? Can I talk to you a minute?"

Olivia Granger looked up from the journal she was reading to see her obviously unwell daughter standing at the door. "Of course, dear, what is it?" she said warmly, even as she was thinking 'I should've found a way to go to her, no matter what.' Hermione's father, William, put down his newspaper, shifting in his chair and hoping Hermione was about to let them into her life fully. The Grangers had tried to be understanding in the years since Hermione received her acceptance letter to Hogwarts. They had gone to public schools as well, and they knew that school and home quickly became two separate places in one's heart. They were still disheartened when they realized Hermione didn't want them to know the full details of her life. She had always shared with them before, and they had always felt close to her. She did share a great deal about school, but it was the censored version. Nevertheless her parents had decided that if Hermione didn't bring up her poisoning during the holidays, they would.

Hermione walked into the room and sat down by her mother on the couch. "I found out that you know about what's happened to me," Hermione said in a small voice, looking down at her hands. "I'm.. I'm sorry I never told you about it, or about anything dangerous in the magical world. I was afraid you might not let me go back if you knew how dangerous it could be. I couldn't have stood that. I'm sorry."

Her mother immediately moved towards her, wrapping her arms around Hermione. "My sweet angel, we wouldn't have kept you from school," she crooned, "We know how happy going there and being a part of that world makes you."

Her father had come to sit beside her. "I was saddened at first when you didn't share with us the scary things you were going through," he said. "But I remember keeping things from my parents at your age, too. Of course, I was never turned to stone by a... what was it again?"

"A basilisk, Daddy," said Hermione through her tears. "I felt so badly when Professor Snape told me you'd known all along. I didn't want you to know about my... my poisoning, because I wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect myself, too. I wanted to come home and pretend it never happened." She buried herself in her mother's arms.

Hermione's parents exchanged a look over her head. William and Olivia Granger knew that their daughter's world was one they would never understand, but they tried. As that pleasant Mr. Dumbledore always said, "parents of non-magical heritage" faced unique difficulties raising a witch or wizard. Unless given access to places like Diagon Alley through special charms, Muggle parents were excluded from most of their children's lives. In his newsletters to the parents and his annual home visits, Mr. Dumbledore had explained quite a bit about the wizarding community and had given the Grangers much advice as to how to adjust to the changes in their daughter's life. He had even arranged for Hermione to enchant an owl to be kept at their home so the Grangers could write Hermione when they wanted.

But what had happened in October had almost been too much for them to bear. They knew something was terribly wrong when Mr. Dumbledore had shown up at their door unannounced. He and the head of Hermione's house made a home visit once a year to answer questions and give Muggle parents insight into their children's learning experiences. As a result, the Grangers knew who Voldemort was and what was happening with the increase of terror in their daughter's world. When Mr. Dumbledore had told them as gently as possible what had happened that night, they had felt angry, horrified, and extremely frustrated. Olivia had demanded that she be taken to Hermione's side at once, but Mr. Dumbledore had sadly reminded her that Muggles could not enter Hogwarts, even with special charms. William had offered several options, including bringing his daughter home to a London hospital. He could not believe there was nothing they could do to help their own child.

The three of them had debated and, on Olivia's part, argued, late into the night, but the Granger's reluctantly came to the conclusion that Hermione should stay at Hogwarts. Mr. Dumbledore had assured them that the Hogwarts hospital matron was highly qualified to care for their daughter in the immediate aftermath of the poisoning, and afterwards, a most capable researcher of poisons who taught at the school would be the best choice to assist Hermione with her rehabilitation. Mr. Dumbledore also quietly asked if Hermione had been forthcoming with her previous injuries. When the Grangers had replied in the negative, Mr. Dumbledore suggested that staying at Hogwarts might be preferable to Hermione as well.

Being satisfied that the wizarding equivalent of Scotland Yard was investigating the crime, William and Olivia realized there was not much they could do for their child, other than wait for her to share the experience with them and help her emotionally as only parents can. Mr. Dumbledore frequently corresponded with them regarding Hermione's recovery, and they had been greatly relieved by the letters from the professor helping Hermione. He seemed quite knowledgeable and optimistic for her recovery, and his correspondence was detailed and informative. Still, the Grangers wanted to hear how Hermione was feeling from her own point of view.

"My sweet, it's best to never hide from the truth." said William, patting her back. "It did happen, and we know how your life has been turned upside down. We've been so worried about you. There's nothing we can do to protect you from Voldemort, but we're glad you've told us what you're up against."

Hermione lifted her head, her tear streaked face registering shock. She looked from her mother to her father and back again. "How do you know about V-Voldemort?"

"Your Headmaster believes in keeping Muggle parents in the loop," said her mother, "and I'm glad for it. You needn't protect us, Hermione. We can handle the facts about your world."

"Dumbledore told you? How?" Hermione asked, still bewildered.

"He and your Head of House -Mrs. McGonagall, is it? - make yearly visits, and your Headmaster sends out a newsletter every month," said her father. "So you see, we know a bit about your life."

Hermione was dumbfounded. How could she have gone all these years assuming her parents were blissfully ignorant?

"Not only do we know some of the ins and outs of your society, we're often quite envious," continued Olivia, stroking Hermione's hair. "Flying on brooms, seeing real unicorns, knowing magic is flowing through you, ready to be used at your bidding. It's really exciting, Hermione, and I'm proud that you can be part of that world, even if there are nasty and dangerous things lurking around the edges."

"But that's just it," said Hermione, crying again, "my magic is damaged. I might not get all of it back. And to be a Muggle-born witch with reduced magical powers is not a pleasant fate. I don't suppose Dumbledore's told you about the racism in the wizarding world?" Her tone was sarcastic and bitter, and quite normal for a teenager.

"Actually, dear, he has told us," said Olivia smoothly. "He also said that you appear able to deal with the negative attitudes of others in a dignified and effective way."

"It makes us angry and sad, sweetie, but racism is part of the Muggle world, too," said William. "So is danger. All parents worry about the everyday dangers that might touch their children. The dangers you encounter are slightly more exotic, but you'd face frightening things even if you weren't a witch. Your teacher, Mr. Snape, tells us in every letter how pleased he is with your progress."

Hermione snorted at that. "It's Professor Snape, Daddy, and I'm glad he's pleased, but I'm not. I'll never be able to do the things I hoped I would do. My life is going to be useless." She was whining now, and she knew it.

"Do not ever say that again, Hermione Granger," said Olivia firmly. "Your father and I did not raise a quitter."

"Hermione, you've been badly injured," said William. "It's going to take time for you to mend. The passage of time may seem impossibly long, but my dear girl, you're only sixteen. You have a long time to go before you can give up."

"You are the most special girl in the whole world," said Olivia, hugging her tightly. "You are our shining star, and nothing will ever be able to dim you. We love you very much, and we'll always be here for you."

"I love you, too," she murmured, snuggling against her mother and closing her eyes. She felt her father's hand smoothing her back and realized how comforted they always made her feel. She should have talked to them sooner. Sitting in between her loving, supportive parents, she felt as if she had just woken up from a bad dream. If she could feel this way all the time, she wouldn't doubt herself. Maybe things would be all right after all.

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Severus had planned on using part of his holiday to do research at the Ministry's Library in London. With an official investigation by the Department of Mysteries in progress, he instead found himself stuck at Hogwarts for interminable rounds of questioning and scrutiny. Actually, things were not going as badly as he had dreaded. Aside from the occasional dig, Agent Cronin was not being as beastly as he remembered. She hadn't even formally interrogated him; she had merely asked questions. Dumbledore had been present at most of these inquiries, which Severus greatly appreciated.

Christmas was over, and with it the always unpleasant Christmas dinner. Attendance at the Christmas meal was something Dumbledore insisted upon, and Severus dutifully went each year. Potter and Weasley were there as usual, and as an extra added bonus, Agent Cronin showed up as well. Not surprisingly, she commandeered the gathering with anecdotes and her usual overblown persona. He ignored the holiday prattle as well as he could, and as soon as dinner had ended, he slipped down to his dungeon living quarters.

A barn owl had been waiting for him in his office. Hermione had sent her completed report and included a Christmas card addressed to him. He didn't open the report - better for Agent Cronin to do that - but he did open the card. It was a Muggle card with a still picture of a snow scene. Inside was a short note which read "Dear Professor Snape, Happy Christmas. I hope everything is okay. I had that talk with my parents. Things went really well. Sincerely, Hermione Granger." He smiled as he set the card on his mantle. He had never received a Muggle card. It was odd to not see the snow falling, but he liked the picture all the same. He wondered how much debate she had gone through deciding whether or not to send it. He also wondered how she was feeling. Hopefully, she was having a nicer time than he was.

A few days after Christmas, Agent Cronin wound the investigation down. From mental images she'd lifted during interviews with witnesses, including Harry and Ron, she had a few leads on the perpetrators of the crime. She had to admit, the temptation to search young Potter's memories for information on Voldemort had been devilishly strong, but she had restrained herself. Unspeakables took a sacred oath to never rummage through a mind. That tended to have unfortunate complications for the mind being searched, and it was unethical besides. She had been pleased to read Miss Granger's report. It was thorough indeed, reaching six feet of parchment in length and detailing everything the child remembered, along with several glowing comments on Severus's efforts to help her.

Eleanor had been pleased to thoroughly document Severus's innocence in the entire matter. She had watched herself with him, being careful not to goad him too much, even though he so invited a good teasing with his dour, moody manner. She had taken a quick peek inside him during her first questioning, and she'd sensed the guilt and worry churning within him. It wasn't quite the tumultuous emotional state she had first seen in him, and the pure arrogance and hatred that formally entwined his psyche were mostly absent. She'd noted how hard he'd worked at brewing better medicaments for Hermione Granger, as well as how tirelessly he searched for the make up of the Elixir and researched possible antidotes. Eleanor was pleased to see the growth he'd made from the haughty pup she'd had to break those many years ago.

When Eleanor entered the Potions classroom, Severus greeted her with stony silence. He was working at diluting the mystery element in an attempt to discern any identifying markers. He was not in the mood for a visitor.

"And a good day, to you, as well," said Eleanor, trying not to laugh out loud. She stopped right in front of him.

Severus sighed in exasperation. "To what do I owe this intrusion, Agent Cronin? You haven't scheduled any questioning today, and I'm busy." To underscore his point, he poured a drop of dragon's blood into the dilution, resulting in a large cloud of acrid steam which billowed from the vial.

"I came to bid you a fond farewell, my boy," she said, waving away the fumes with her wand. "My business here is concluded after I ask for one more favor. I need a sample of the Elixir to take back to the Department of Mysteries Potion Laboratory. Not implying that you aren't capable of deciphering it yourself, but Lobelia Easterling has been alerted and has some ideas about tracing the unknown element."

Severus sneered angrily. He figured it would come to this, but it still infuriated him. Lobelia Easterling was one of the best potion brewers in Britain - besides himself, of course. He had assisted her for a time when he was being trained by the Unspeakables. He reached for the smallest vial he could find, poured a few drops of the recovered Elixir into it, and stoppered it. He handed it to here and then returned to his work.

"You know, Severus, Lobelia is very good at what she does, but we can always use good thinkers," said Eleanor, peering at him from the corner of her eye. "You'd be an asset to our Department."

"Thank you, but I am free from intrusions here at Hogwarts," he replied resentfully. "I don't care to be under more scrutiny than I am already."

"My official report clears you of any wrongdoing, Severus," said Eleanor, seriously. "And you know that my word will be sufficient for anyone at the Ministry. If you are called by Voldemort, you will let me know immediately through the proper channels if you hear anything further?"

"Of course I will," said Severus, taken aback by her words. He hadn't expected to be cleared, not with Cronin in charge. She had always seemed to despise him so, and now she was clearing his name and asking him to work in the secret potions laboratory. This was all very odd, to say the least.

"Well, that's all then. If you ever get tired of being a nursemaid for the future potion brewers of Britain, consider joining our laboratory. I wasn't joking."

"I'm.. happy at Hogwarts," said Severus. "It's home to me."

"Plus you have a mighty protector here, eh?" said Eleanor. "Well, my boy, believe it or not, but if you were in my Department, you'd have a protector there as well. I have... a confession to make. You were under my protection during your training for a reason. I took one look inside your mind and saw a soul worthy of redemption under all the mire. To get to that glimmering prize, I had to be harsh - harsher than I wanted to be. I know you hate me still for how I treated you. But I got though to you in the end, didn't I? Sounds a bit like how you teach your charges, doesn't it?" She smiled. "We are Slytherins after all, and we both know that sometimes the end justifies the means. I'm proud of you, my boy. I always have been. Now, I'll take my leave before you overdose on the maudlin sweetness of this touching scene." She turned to go.

"Agent Cronin," called Severus quickly, trying to process these rare words of praise. She stopped and looked back at him. Severus didn't know what to say next. Thank you didn't seem right. Neither did a cutting remark. "Happy New Year, Agent Cronin," he finally settled with. "I'll contact you if I hear anything."

"Take care, Severus. And take care of Miss Granger - she has incredible potential, in spite of her injuries. Happy New Year." With that, Agent Cronin left Severus's classroom for the last time.

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On New Year's Eve, Hermione's family stayed up for the chimes of Big Ben to ring in 1997. Hermione's brother and his fiancee, Patty, had come for a visit, and the lot of them had played board games, laughed, and snacked on healthy treats well into the night. Hermione had been having a wonderful time at home. William and Olivia were pleased to see that their daughter was laughing again, and the strained look on her face had gone. They'd taken extra time off work and made the rounds of all the museums Hermione had loved to go to as a child. Hermione escorted them into Diagon Alley, and William and Olivia once more were able to experience the wonder of the place.

At Hermione's request, they had also taken Hermione to the family physician. She had been thoroughly examined under the pretense that she was having severe migraines. Her CAT scan came back normal. She was relieved that her injury was indeed magical in nature, and nothing else was wrong with her brain. She had finished her report for Agent Cronin with great care, and after much debate, decided to send Professor Snape a Christmas card as a gesture of appreciation. She was worried he might be in Azkaban when she returned to school. If he was taken away, she didn't know what she would do. True, he was still unpleasant most of the time, but when he worked with her, she made progress. She didn't know if anyone else could truly understand the poison's damage as well as Snape. At this thought, she chided herself that it had been only two months ago since she'd pleaded with Dumbledore to let her work with anyone besides Professor Snape.

Midnight had finally come, and the chimes of the clock announced the new year. Hermione resolved to overcome her injuries no matter what. She felt strong and capable, and nothing would stop her.

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Severus was in London for New Year's Eve, and he was thoroughly annoyed. He had been staying at Ministry guest quarters while he spent days and nights at the Ministry Library looking for any information to help him solve the mystery of the new Leeching Elixir. He was determined to solve it before Lobelia did. So far, he'd come up with nothing of use. Tonight, to further vex him, the library had been closed early in order for the staff to join in the evening's revelry. Severus hated revelry. The mass chaos of crowds reminded him too much of the Dark Revels he'd been required to attend. The memories of those events had been firmly blocked out even before he had defected.

He was now in his room, writing a colleague in Amsterdam. The Dutch Ministry had the largest research library in Europe, and Severus wondered if it would need to be his next stop. He almost hoped the Dark Lord would call him soon, so he could ferret out some information.

He shuddered, and then his thoughts drifted to Agent Cronin and what she'd said to him. Was he really like her in the eyes of his pupils? He reckoned Longbottom must have as much fear and loathing towards him that he held for Cronin. He knew he was cruel. Maybe this year he would try not to be as cruel towards his students. He would be stern and strict, and he doubted he could ever be anything but venomous towards Potter, but maybe this year he would try to be less caustic. Or at the very least, he wouldn't purposefully make the Hufflepuffs, or Longbottom, cry.

The bells of Big Ben were chiming twelve. Severus sighed. Another year stretched out before him. He wondered how Hermione Granger was. He knew she lived in London, and he hoped that she was feeling well this night. She deserved some peace and enjoyment after the horrors she'd been put through. He finished writing his letter, and he put it aside for posting in the morning. Moving a heavy, chained book to his desk, he got his quill ready to take any notes that might lead to him Hermione's cure. Severus resolved to do his utmost to help her overcome this tragedy. Nothing would stop him, not even the Dark Lord himself.