Dissonance

Dissonance

Without music, life would be a mistake

Friedrich Nietzsche

Lyra left shortly after she'd cast every conceivable diagnostic spell at least twice on Severus, who was surprisingly good-natured about the attention. For the first time since he could remember, he felt not only wide awake but energetic and truly well, both physically and mentally. The last remainder of mental anguish had evaporated upon hearing the news that the Dark Lord was gone, his death caused by his own reverberated Killing Curse, with not even the remotest chance of a comeback.

Lyra had suggested the best action for recovering Hermione's magic would be a few days of light sleep, which Narcissa instantly agreed to take care of.

"Feeling hungry, Sev?" Narcissa asked, back on the bed to keep a close eye on Hermione, who hadn't stirred.

Severus regarded her. "A little, I suppose. A cup of tea would be heavenly. I can't say I missed it, obviously, but, yes, I'd love that." He smirked at her.

Narcissa smiled and turned to Lucius. "Will you stay here while I go and prepare something to eat for us all? You must be hungry, too, love."

Lucius stood up and pulled a chair near the bed. "Yes, splendid idea. How about an omelette with morels? I saw your order arrived from France this morning." His grin was smug.

Narcissa laughed. "You've read my mind." She left Hermione in the two wizards' care to prepare some nourishment and tea.

It was early morning when Lucius finally gave in to the yawns calling for sleep. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked Severus.

"I slept for eighteen months, according to the two of you, so I'm sure I can stay awake for a few hours. And even if I do fall asleep, it won't harm Hermione."

"No," Narcissa agreed. "She'll be fine. I doubt she'll move, let alone wake up." She'd renewed the sleeping charm only an hour ago.

Light dawned on the horizon as the couple made its way to the bedroom. Lucius smiled at his wife. "Happy Solstice, darling."

Narcissa regarded him with wide eyes. "I hadn't even realised." Then she smiled. "And what a happy one it is! I didn't dare dream Severus would wake up, let alone be so well!" Wistfully, she added, "Hermione will be fine, won't she?"

"Yes, love. She'll be all right."

Lyra came by the next day, checking on Severus and Hermione. She was happy with Severus; although his gait was slightly awkward, it was more due to not having used his legs in over a year rather than lack of strength.

Casting diagnostic spells on Hermione, she frowned. "Her magic is still as depleted as last night. No change at all," she murmured.

"She's not moved either," Severus said. "Do you know whether I was the first to be healed by the music?"

"No, you weren't, from what I understand. There was a boy who was healed with music a few weeks back, and then, of course, there was Gilderoy Lockhart. That case even got the Unspeakables' attention."

Severus nodded. "And I suppose the only reason they haven't turned up here is because she hasn't regained consciousness. Are you in contact with Lockhart?"

Lyra shook her head. "No. I left St Mungo's years ago. I preferred to focus on the less conventional methods of healing than St Mungo's approved of." She met Severus's grin with an almost mischievous smile.

"Are you saying Lockhart might be able to help?" Narcissa asked sharply. "See, when that boy, Jonathan, turned up in the Prophet's headlines, I saw Severus move for the first time. Lucius didn't believe me, but I know what I saw. So my guess is all the ones healed by the music might be connected in one way or another."

"Yes, I was thinking along those lines," Severus admitted. He peeled himself out of the covers and moved carefully towards the end of the bed without disturbing Hermione.

The moment he'd left she started to whimper. Narcissa was at her side in an instant. "Shshshsh, Hermione, all is well." She placed a hand on her forehead. It felt hot suddenly, and the horror of the night she had thought Severus would die hit her with full force. "Luce," she choked. "Do something."

Lyra cast calming charms, but Hermione continued her whimpering until Severus returned. The moment he took up residence next to her again, she calmed down, let out a shuddering sigh, and returned to simply breathing.

Lyra and Narcissa both regarded the dark wizard.

"There is a connection," Narcissa observed.

"I'll go and find Lockhart," Lyra offered, standing up and heading for the fireplace.

"Sev. Do you feel a connection of any sort?" Narcissa asked.

"For crying out loud, Cissy, she saved my life, yes? It would be obscene to not feel a connection!"

She ignored his sneer and suppressed the smile that threatened upon seeing the old Severus return. "I'm merely wondering what... all this entails. Ideally, I'd like to see her awake and well rather than unconscious, you know."

"You say that about a Muggle-born?" His tone was incredulous.

Narcissa sighed. "Yes, Severus. You have no idea how much has happened since the day the Dark...since Voldemort!...was defeated. One of the many things I've learned is to not judge anyone by race. And Hermione is a remarkable witch, whom I've come to not only respect but also have the honour of calling my friend."

Severus smirked at her. "Who'd have thought, eh? Cissy Black makes friends with a Muggle-born know-it-all... Whatever is next on the agenda, I wonder."

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to bring the tree in and decorate it. It is Yule, after all!"

Narcissa filled her friend in on what had happened in the wizarding world since Nagini had bitten him, occasionally interrupted by easy banter, as Severus watched her casting spells to beautify the tree into a piece of art worthy of a Malfoy. When Lucius entered, he admired the result, taking his wand out. "No Yule tree without fairy lights," he murmured and charmed the lights to half in size and double in number and spelled them to twinkle subtly. Then his attention turned to the young, still unconscious witch. "Lyra is visiting Lockhart and will pop in later to let us know what..."

A loud knock at the front door interrupted him. "Who could that be?" Lucius frowned.

"If it's Unspeakables, try to keep them away for a few more days," Severus muttered.

Lucius went to open the door and returned shortly with the Minister of Magic himself.

Shacklebolt's expression turned into a wide smile when he spotted Severus. "Merlin, it really is true, then! When the Department of Mysteries informed me of the music of the spheres playing at Malfoy Manor, I had the riotous hope that you did survive after all, Severus!" He turned to Narcissa. "My apologies, Mrs Malfoy, for turning up completely unannounced, but I decided it would be better if I came here instead of a bunch of Unspeakables."

"I appreciate that, Minister. Given Hermione's current state, I'd rather not have a houseful of strangers to deal with," Narcissa said as she motioned for him to take a seat. "I was about to make some tea; would you care for a cup? Or perhaps something else?"

"Maybe a Scotch?" Lucius offered. "I am about to pour one for myself."

Once everyone had their drink of choice, Narcissa sat down again, sipping her tea as she followed the conversation between the Minister and Severus.

"I really don't know anything else, Kingsley. From what I understand, I spent eighteen months in a coma. Lucius and Narcissa looked after me and employed a Healer by the name of Lyra."

Kingsley looked impressed. "Excellent choice. She's helped the Order several times during the dark days."

The fireplace flared green. "Ah, and here she is," Lucius said as Lyra stepped into the room.

She looked at Kingsley in surprise. "Minister! I didn't expect to see you here!"

"No need for formalities, Lyra," Kingsley said, smiling at her. "I figured it would be less traumatising if I arrived on my own. The Department of Mysteries is incredibly excited over the music of the spheres, as you can imagine."

"Yes. And you can tell your Unspeakables they are not to contact Hermione until I give the all clear, and that won't be this year," Lyra said and turned to her patient, already firing various diagnostic spells and soon clucking and tutting. She took a deep breath before turning to Narcissa. "I detect some magic, but nowhere near enough. If she recovers at this rate, it'll be a year or more before she regains all her magic. Now, I don't know her circumstances. Does she have someone to look after her?"

Two wizards and one witch answered simultaneously, one with "I will," the other two with "We will."

Lyra smiled. "Good. I'm hoping that bringing Gilderoy Lockhart tomorrow will help her some. On the other hand, of course, I have no idea how one who's been healed by the music can coax it to play. But we'll see."

She turned to Severus, but only cast a few spells this time. "Healthy as a horse, my dear." She straightened. "I'll take my leave then."

Hermione felt the music more than heard it. A soft contrabass brushed her skin, gentle cellos followed with warmth, and violas and violins joined in tender strokes, as if coaxing her out of some dilemma, providing the answer to an unasked question. The French horn and a lone English horn put forward a serene calm that blended with the strings in absolute perfection.

The harp waltzed in, twirling with the piano in an elegant and jubilant dance.

Hermione stirred and sighed. She suddenly comprehended why Lockhart had reacted to the music the way he had; the infusion of pure, unadulterated joy made her to never, ever want to shout at anyone, let alone put her own wishes before others'.

The strings had gradually withdrawn in favour of the harp and piano's magnificent entrance, but were now starting again in the same gentle, soft, calming tones, bringing the dance of delight to a crescendo that left her entire body tingling.

"Oh, she's moving," someone near her whispered. Hermione frowned. The person, a male by the sound of it, seemed to speak reverently about her. Or maybe he was talking about someone else. Maybe she was dreaming.

Then, a voice she recognised. "Hermione, would you do us the honour of waking up, please?" Professor Snape! Either he's alive, or I'm dead.

"Well, I'll be on my way then," the previously whispering voice said, now in a normal volume. "So glad it worked. And good to see you alive and well, Severus."

There was a commotion of scratching chairs and other voices that quickly faded into the distance.

Hermione felt a hand on her forehead. "Come on now, Hermione. Surely, four days of sleep should suffice, don't you think?"

Alive, then, she thought in wonder and finally opened her eyes.

"Ah, better late than never. Welcome back to the world, Miss Granger." He sounded more like the Potions master of her school days now.

"It sounded much nicer when you called me Hermione," she said, voice heavy with sleep and slightly raspy.

"Hermione, then." He removed his hand from her head, and she felt the loss acutely.

Turning away from him, Hermione glanced at Narcissa.

"Merlin, Hermione," she whispered. "I was so worried you wouldn't wake up."

Hermione's arms stretched out of their own accord and within a moment, she embraced her friend in a resounding hug that returned the joy delivered with the music.

A/N: Reviews feed the muse.