Sixteen

October, 1998

A few moments after awakening in the hospital wing, Hermione decided not to tell Severus where she had found her hand. Instead, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep as he stirred, grunted, and jerked his head off of her bed.

"Good morning," she murmured, smiling at him.

"Miss Granger," he rasped. And then, as if her smile had melted some of his icy façade, "Hermione." The moment of peace stretched between them.

"How long has it been?" she asked, praying that the moment would last.

"A long time," he replied. "Almost a week. Do you remember much?"

Hermione noticed that his hand was almost touching hers. She inched hers closer, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers.

"I remember that I was home," she said, "and happy to be there. But then ... then things started to go wrong. Not badly so, but I've been ... I've been so much a part of this world that going back to the other one was ..." She trailed off, uncertain of how to express her disappointment, her failure.

"Hermione, you don't have to ..." His hand covered hers and grasped it.

"But if I stay here," she argued, "I'm alone. No parents, no sister, just ... just magic. And what has that done for me, lately?" Her mouth twisted.

"You're not alone, Hermione." He said it so quietly that she wasn't sure she heard it. Perhaps it was better ignored – no sense in pushing him where even Ron had feared to tread. Instead, she took in the silence and the warm pressure of his hand upon hers.

Bill and Harry suddenly spun into existence in the middle of the room. Bill dropped the sandal and hurried to the Floo, shouting for Minerva as Harry stumbled into a table, sending the metal tray holding glasses, phials, and plates crashing to the floor.

The house-elf on duty squeaked in alarm and dove for the wreckage.

"Well done, Potter," Snape sneered, rising from Hermione's bedside, still an impressive figure, despite the cane in his grasp.

Harry blushed and bent to help the house-elf, who squeaked in alarm again and snapped its fingers. Instantly, the mess disappeared, and Harry was left crouched over awkwardly, grasping at a mess that was no longer there.

Hermione repressed a giggle – the first one she'd felt rise in her chest in days ... months, perhaps?

"As soon as you've finished making a fool of yourself, do you suppose we can discuss what you and Bill have found?" Snape asked as Harry scrambled to his feet.

"Minerva's coming," Bill said, withdrawing his head from the Floo and brushing the soot from his red hair, tidying the ponytail as he did so, fang earring swinging.

"And then?" Hermione demanded. "Then will we know if ... If we can stop this? If I can get my parents back?"

"Well, Hermione," Bill said, "I'm afraid that it's a bit more complicated than that."

The door to the Hospital Wing banged open, and Minerva hurried in with a flourish of McGonagall tartan.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said, Summoning a chair from the corner and settling next to Hermione. "How are you, my dear?" she asked.

Hermione smiled. "I'll be better in a moment, when I know for certain that I can restore my parents. I mean - that's what you went to find out, right, Bill?"

Bill pulled a chair across the floor, its wooden legs screeching on the flags. Harry sat upon Hermione's bed as she scooted over to make room for him.

Snape resumed his chair with a grimace. Outside, the rain beat against the mullioned windows, and the unquiet wind moaned around the turrets.

"Well," Bill began, "we found Monica and Wendell Wilkins in New South Wales, right where we'd hoped. But we also found somebody else."

"Who?" Hermione demanded.

"We found Fiona Wilkins," Harry interjected. "Hermione, we found your sister."

"Is there anything?" Jocasta asked.

"No. I'm sorry, Mrs Granger, not even a flicker."

"How could she do this? We were so close! She had an interview yesterday with a college! She was supposed to start a job next week!" Jocasta sank to the bed where her daughter sat, surrounded by a litter of papers and books and pens, bushy hair illumined by the glow of her bedside lamp.

"I'm sorry, Jocasta," Dr Gupta said again. "What's happening in Hermione's mind ... is complicated. But ultimately, as I've said before, she will choose how she wants to live. Here, with us in the real world, or in the fantasy world of hers that she's created in her mind." He picked up the small leather bound notebook from beneath the papers.

"Hermione," Jocasta whispered, turning to her daughter and smoothing the wild tangle of hair. "You must try. For our sake, for the sake of your sister, who looks up to you so much, who wants her big sister back to loan her clothes, to read to her, to fight with her, even! Please, Hermione, please come back to us."

Outside, the October rain beat against the quiet suburban house.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Granger," Dr Gupta said.

"They're happy," Hermione said faintly.

"Very much so," Bill replied. Harry pressed her hand in silent sympathy. "They have a good life, Hermione – you did well in establishing that."

"And ... Atal- Fiona?" Hermione asked.

"Thriving. She loves her school – she's at the top of her class."

Snape and Minerva both smiled until Snape caught her eye and frowned.

"Do they even know that they had another daughter?" Hermione blurted. "No," she amended, "of course not."

"I'm afraid you're right, Hermione," said Harry quietly. "They have no idea at all."

"Bill, wait," Minerva said, sitting up straighter in her chair. "I thought Atalanta – Fiona, wasn't... who is she?"

Bill stretched his long legs and glanced at Harry, who rose from Hermione's bed quickly.

"We're not sure," Harry finally admitted, beginning to pace. "Until this point, all we've had was a reference to her existence in Dumbledore's files."

"She does exist in this world. She is real," Hermione whispered.

"But how was Hermione able to modify her memory as well, if she didn't even know of her existence?" Minerva asked.

"That, we don't know," Bill admitted.

Snape shifted, crossing his leg and instantly regretting it as pain shot through his lower back.

"Headmaster, this is madness! You can't simply make somebody disappear."

"You're not listening, Severus." Dumbledore's voice took on a hard edge. "Any spell Hermione, or anyone on the side of Light, casts upon her family to protect them will automatically cover Atalanta. Hermione simply won't be aware that it's extending to one more person."

"It was only to hide her from me," Hermione said suddenly – as if she'd heard his thoughts. "But when I cast the Refracto Legilimentis on my parents, I also cast it upon her."

"I'm afraid so, yes," Snape replied.

"Severus ..." Hermione began, groping on the bed.

His hand found hers. He didn't care if Minerva pursed her lips or Potter adjusted his glasses and coughed, or if Bill raised an eyebrow. Her hand was warm under his; he answered her squeeze with a gentle pressure of his own.

Hermione gave a long, shuddering sigh and swung her legs over the edge, letting go of Snape's hand. He was bereft but ignored the disquiet as she pushed herself off the bed. He moved back to give her space, to give himself distance.

"Hermione, you don't have to ..." Potter began, moving forward as Snape shifted to the foot of the bed, grasping the metal frame.

"Yes, Harry, I do," she insisted. "I have to find out if there is a way for me to restore their memories. Not only for them, but also ... also for Atalanta. Even if I can't remember her, I can give her life back to her. And maybe ... Maybe I can begin to remember her!"

"Miss Granger..."

"Hermione ..." Snape and Bill began in unison, each falling silent as the other spoke.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but ... there's no way that you can restore their memories," Harry said.

"No, Harry," Hermione insisted, shaking her curly head. "There has to be a way. We have to find it."

"Hermione," Snape said gently, "I'm afraid Potter is right. They ... Monica and Wendell Wilkins are Muggles. If you cast the Reparo Legimentis upon them, you could very well end up erasing their minds entirely."

"But, I ... even though they were not affected by the Unde Orieris?" Hermione demanded.

"It is because they are Muggles. Their minds are not ... not prepared for such a shift in their perceptions. And ..." Snape moved away from his post at the foot of her bed.

"And to shift them back to Jocasta and Martin Granger would effectively destroy them." Hermione finished his thought, sitting abruptly back down upon the bed.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Potter began, sitting beside her. "But you need to know; they're happy where they are. And Fiona, Atalanta, your sister, is happy, too."

"Did you know, Harry?" Hermione demanded, rounding on him. "Did you ever see her? Was she in Flourish and Blotts the summer before Second Year? Did she ever come with my parents to platform nine and three-quarters?"

"Hermione," Potter tried again, moving forward to put his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"You don't know!" she cried, furious. "You've never lost somebody because of something you've done, because you've always been allowed to do whatever you wanted, because you're Harry bloody Potter, the boy who fucking lived! You've never had to be held responsible for anybody or anything because everything's always been done to you!" She paused and gulped.

"Hermione, you can't ... you're still not feeling yourself. And that's not fair," Potter protested. "I lost my parents, and Sirius, Remus - what about Fred? Or do you not remember what happened in May? Not a day goes by that I don't wish that I had ..."

"You may have lost your parents, but everybody bloody worships at the altar of James and Lily Potter and the Mauraders, don't they?" Hermione hissed. "The brave members of the Order of the Phoenix who nobly sacrificed themselves for the side of Light!

"But what sacrifices did Monica Wendell and Fiona Wilkins make? Were they really in any danger? Were there really Death Eaters after them? Really?"

Bill tried to interrupt. "Obviously, Dumbledore thought that Atalanta, at least, would be dangerous to you."

Snape glared at him and he fell silent.

"Or was their daughter just paranoid – having heard too many lectures about 'constant vigilance' – too eager to use her magic to fully investigate the consequences?" Hermione continued bitterly.

"Hermione," Minerva began, "you're distraught, but I'm sure that ..."

"Minerva! Shut up," Snape snapped, surprising himself.

"Severus, you will not speak to me ..." Minerva rose suddenly from her chair.

"Hermione, you're not yourself, you can't ..." Bill moved from his post by the window to the girl.

"Bill! Shut it!" Hermione cried. "All of you, just shut up! I made a mistake. The brightest witch of her age made a mistake and now, now I have to live with the fact that I have no parents, and for all intents and purposes, have no sister! And it's completely my fault." She paused and glared at each one of them in turn. "And now I have to decide if I want to live with those consequences here, where people want to wrap me up in cotton wool and save me from myself, or in a reality where I have no prospects, no education, and no future! So all of you can just shut the fuck up and let me think!"

She grabbed her dressing gown from the floor, and shoving the hapless Potter to one side, stormed from the Hospital Wing, slamming the heavy oak door behind her in a burst of furious magic.

"Well, I never ..." Minerva began. "I'll go after her."

"Minerva," Potter interrupted, "no."

"Excuse me?"

"I said," Potter replied, straightening and looking his Head of House in the eye, "no. Let her go."

"Mr Potter," Minerva said sternly, "I'm afraid you don't understand. Hermione is upset, and she could easily do herself harm!"

"No," Potter insisted, "this is Hermione we're talking about. She's too sensible for that. Give her what she needs."

"Oh? And what is that?" Minerva demanded.

"Give her time." Potter shrugged.

Snape found himself in the wholly uncomfortable and unthinkable position of being actually proud of James Potter's whelp. He hoped the moment would soon pass.

AN: Special thanks to Bluestocking, Subversa, and SavineSnape for their invaluable help.

I don't own these characters. I have made no money from the writing of this.

Apologies for hiatus. RL took priority. One more chapter remains.