The Manor

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

Chapter 2 – The Manor

Hermione’s father and Madam Pomfrey were already at the manor when she arrived. The others were quickly shooed out by the Healer, as it was clear that Hermione was hanging onto life by a mere thread.

In the following three days, her body recovered, but Hermione still refused to answer any questions as to what occurred during her stay with the Death Eaters. Madam Pomfrey was the only one who had seen the extent of her injuries, and due to Healer-patient confidentiality, she was unable to reveal anything beyond the most basic health report. With Madam Pomfreys’ 24-hour care and the use of several potions and spells, it still took a full three days for all of Hermione’s physical injuries to heal. Yet even a healer as skilled as Madam Pomfrey was unable to rid Hermione of the multitude of scars that covered nearly every inch of her body.

*****

On the fifth day of Hermione’s stay at Snape Manor, she was allowed out of bed and deemed physically healthy... relatively at any rate. Hermione gingerly got out of bed for the first time since her ordeal and slowly made her way to the shower. Knowing the state her body was most likely in, she stripped quickly and stepped into the hot shower, not daring to spare a glance at the mirror. She closed her eyes as the water cascaded over her battered and beaten body, revelling in the warmth as she tried to ignore the images that flashed before her mind’s eye. She opened her eyes with a gasp and started scrubbing her body, as if trying to wash away the dirt of her soul. After 45 minutes of frantic scrubbing, her body ached from both the strain of standing for so long and the skin she had just rubbed raw. Hermione turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a large white towel, and as she stepped out of the shower had no choice but to look into the mirror. She gazed at her frail form with a mixed expression of disgust and despair. She had never been a classic beauty, she knew. But now, with all that marred her body and soul, she could feel nothing but intense hate for what she had become and for what they had done to her.

Her arms were spattered with scars from her shoulders to her wrists. The Death Eaters had chosen to experiment with new torture techniques on her. Her legs were similarly scarred. And as for her torso... she had not the heart to look as it was currently covered by the towel. With a small sigh, she turned her back to the mirror and dressed quickly in the clothes she had set out. As she emerged from the bathroom, she was greeted by the sight of a small house-elf sitting on the floor in the middle of the room.

“Miss! Master tells me to bring you to the dining room for breakfast. Miss has visitors!” exclaimed the little elf as it sprang to its feet.

Hermione simply nodded and followed the elf down to the dining hall. Upon entering the room, she saw her father, Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore, Remus and Bill Weasley waiting for her. Her father rushed to her side as she stepped into the room, not noticing how she cringed away from his touch. As soon as he loosened his hold, she quickly shrugged out of his grasp. The others watched and noted their interaction with interest, but said nothing.

She moved away from her father and stood off to the side as she waited for the others to explain the reason for their presence. They all stared at her expectantly, no one quite sure what to say. Suddenly the room felt very small, she felt caged, and without any warning, Hermione bolted from the room, straight back up to what she had claimed as her room.

“Perhaps I will speak with her alone first,” Albus said with a sad shake of his head

“Yes, I rather think you should. The poor girl has yet to string two words together,” replied Remus, staring worriedly at the spot from which Hermione had just disappeared.

With that, Albus Dumbledore made his way up to Hermione’s room and, with a gentle knock on her door, asked for admittance. She came to the door and opened it slightly. After giving him a long weary look, she allowed him in and returned to her stance by the window.

“Miss Granger... Hermione, why don’t you come take a seat, my dear child,” he stated quietly.

For all appearances it seemed as though she had not heard a word he just said, yet she slowly turned and made her way to the bed like an obedient child obeying a parent.

“My dear child, I realize that you have been through a terrible ordeal, but it is imperative I know what happened. Forgive me for being so blunt and I do not wish to be callous, but I must know, did you recognize any of the Death Eaters?” he asked.

She nodded her head but refused to say a word.

“Who did you see? Can you remember their names?”

“Malfoy, Nott, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Dolohov, the Lestrange brothers, and Bellatrix,” Hermione recited in a mechanical voice, as though she were simply listing the Quidditch team line-up for the year, rather than naming the Death Eaters responsible for the deaths of her mother and sister.

“Very well. Thank you, my dear. Get some rest; I’m sure it will do you good”

She simply nodded her ascent and returned to gazing out the window as the Headmaster quietly took his leave. It pained him to see the once bright and enthusiastic girl reduced to this shell of a being. With a sad shake of his head, he returned downstairs to inform the others of his newly acquired knowledge.

*****

When the Headmaster relayed the information to the Order members downstairs, he was met with varying reactions of shock, anger, and disbelief.

“You do realize she has just named nearly all the members of his inner circle, don’t you?” Severus drawled.

“I am well aware, Severus, thank you,” Albus replied with a tired sigh, “I wonder... how is it that so many of the inner circle took part, yet you were left unawares?”

“I do not know, but I suspect that this attack was not one authorized by the Dark Lord, but rather one of Lucius’ pet projects. As you know, I am rarely made aware of those.”

“Yes, of course. I did not mean to sound accusing, my dear boy.”

“Indeed.”

“Is there anything we can do, Albus?” Remus asked.

“I’m afraid not. We must wait until Miss Granger chooses to speak of the events that occurred during her capture,” Albus replied.

“Until then, should she stay here? Or should we take her back to headquarters?” Bill asked.

“I believe, she should remain here. She does not need to deal with the others at a time like this. Should she express a wish to return to Grimmauld Place, then we shall of course comply, but otherwise, I think it best she stay here,” the Headmaster answered with a tone of finality.

*****

Hermione spent the remainder of the day locked in her bedroom, refusing to speak with anyone, and only emerging for meals. It was as though she was so deeply withdrawn into her own mind that no one, not even her father, could draw her out into present reality. By the end of the day, it was clear that Hermione was not likely to return to her normal self any time soon, if ever. So it was with this sad revelation that everyone, with the exception of Hermione, her father, and Severus, returned to Headquarters.

The remainder of her stay with the Potions master passed in a similar manner. Her father tried desperately to bring back his ‘old 'Mione’ but was in a constant state of disappointment due to her continued refusal to ‘behave normally’. It seemed that the more he pushed, the further she withdrew into herself, to the point where he felt there was nothing that could bring her back. It was with this realization that her father gave up and decided to return home, for it was clear that he could do nothing for his precious daughter.

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