Chapter 2

A/N: This story was originally written in mid 2004 and posted at Ashwinder. It was my very first attempt at an HG/SS fic. I have decided to (finally) upload this story here so that all my HP fanfic is archived at one place.

Lest any reader should nitpick that the Christian names of some of the Hogwarts' teaching staff differs from the Rowling official version. Please note that story was written in 2004 before any such revelation was made. I have kept to the names I gave the characters in this story.

Method in Madness

Chapter 2

He tried moving his hands to inform her that he could hear her, but he found that none of his limbs could move. He tried opening his mouth to speak but he could not so much as utter a sound. “How did I end up in this state?” He asked himself with great irritation. He tried to calculate how long he had been this. He had only become aware of his conscious thoughts recently, within the last five days perhaps. So, he hadn’t died and neither had she. Ah, Miss Granger, the only person who came to him daily. The only person in the Order who knew her place was in strategic planning rather than actual combat; the only person in the Order who knew her strengths and stuck to them. She had plotted the strategy, the advances of the attack and had insisted that they each carried a little healing potion. She truly embodied the phrase, “possessing cool intellect under fire”. Severus smiled at recollecting her ability to plan the attack just from his reports of Death eater meetings. He stopped in mid-reverie when it occurred to him that he had smiled. Thinking harder, he realised that his spirit could detach itself from his body. Thus, summoning his magical ability to his mind, he soon found himself floating over his lightly breathing body. “Fascinating,” he drawled as he stared at his ghost-like hands.

Settling himself in a chair lately occupied by Miss Granger, he realised that his mother’s book on out of body experiences were not instances of wizarding folklore after all.

“So, I see you’ve discovered your Fissura Anima,” chuckled a familiar old voice, interrupting his analysis of his present situation.

“How can you see me, you meddlesome old man, if you’re still functioning in your body!” spat Severus before snapping his head in the direction of the voice. He was quite unprepared to see Albus Dumbledore’s spirit floating next to his.

“Ah, Severus. You are yourself again. The ability to exist dually in body and spirit only occurs in a death situation. You ought to know by now that we are composed of two bodies, a spiritual one and a physical one. Well, my boy, we are in between life and death and can thus exist simultaneously with our physical bodies.”

Severus formed a steeple with his hands, taking in this information before addressing Dumbledore, “How is it possible that our sensory abilities are still in tact in this state? Miss Granger had been clutching my hand in a death-like vise. Had I known I would be put to such treatment, I would have rather died!”

“Now, now, behave – your protégé; for she is all yours now that Diotima is dead, is working on a cure for you. Poor Diotima never got over the shock when Miss Granger asked to be put under both your tutelages. Diotima shared your possessive streak when it came to her prize students you know.”

“Cure for me? What about you? How long do we have to be thus?” Severus asked wearily.

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Severus. According to Miss Granger, it appears that we have been here for the last three weeks. She informs me that I’m improving in health, but you were almost directly hit by the Avarda Kedavra and your system is still in shock. Don’t gape at me, my boy, it doesn’t suit you, I’d rather you scowl. Miss Granger always came by to see me before spending hours with you. I was worried that you would never come around, but that you are spiritually here, there’s hope yet,” said the older wizard kindly, placing a hand on Severus’s shoulder.

“Isn’t Poppy caring for us? For Merlin’s sake, she is the mediwitch. Why can’t that silly girl be the Gryffindor that she is and mourn for her friends? Or is she as devoid of survivor’s guilt as I am?” Severus retorted.

Dumbledore stared at Severus before cautiously answering, “My boy, Poppy’s restoratives have been able to work for me and I gather from the feeling in my bones that I would be able to move my limbs soon. But until then, I must ‘live’ as I am now,” he gestured to his ghostly form.

“Don’t worry, no one can see us. It’s quite amusing you know – I had Minerva telling me that she would ask me to marry her if I recovered. Nothing like an incentive to go on living, eh? But she’s busy preparing for the new school year. Miss Granger, however, visits us everyday. She has been working on a cure for you’re a cure for your condition after she saw you, shall we say, inanimate.”

“Can I help it?” snapped Severus with a scowl, “if she wastes her efforts on me? We are not all as sprightly as you!”

“Is that so?” laughed the older wizard with a twinkle in his eyes. “Explains why I am inundated with so many love letters daily.” Noticing his companion twitch his lips in a half smile, Dumbledore added, “She slept on this chair for a week when you were first brought in. She cares a great deal for you, my boy. You ought…”

“It’s the respect she wishes to present me for protecting her precious friends as far as we did, nothing more. The silly girl cared more for Potter and young Weasley than an acerbic old man like me,” interrupted Severus, clearly uncomfortable with the vein of the conversation.

Dumbledore, however, did not see fit to grasp his hint and merely said, “Is it respect that made her weep over the thought of ‘losing’ us as well? She’s already lost her best friends; let her not lose us as well. We are the only family she has left. Think about it though – I’m off to my body. I’ll come by tomorrow if my body has yet to reconcile with my spirit.”

Severus’s eyes trained onto the curtain when Dumbledore had floated through and frowned. What is that Gryffindor know-it-all up to? And why would she want to help me when I don’t even deserve to live? And she cried for me? She must be mad! Mad! He didn’t know if he was more incensed with himself for surviving or her attempts to help him. When it finally dawned upon him that it was the former, he buried his head in his hands.