Whether 'Tis Nobler

Whether 'Tis Nobler...

Chapter 3

1 year later

Hermione stood just outside the ivy laden brick wall, which served as a fence, and which, Hermione privately thought, indicated a serious subconscious need of self-defence.

She looked around at the vast expanse of unearthly green hills and wrapped her soft, grey wool sweater closer round her shoulders, pondering back at the events of the past year which had brought her to this place.

She had been relieved to hear Snape's surprisingly simple suggestion – that they live without each other. It sounded easy enough. Why make things more difficult or complicated than they had to be?

0o0o0o0

The 1st Quarter

Unfortunately, resuming her life had not been so easy. The Ministry was, quite frankly, in tatters. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic, had all he could handle to keep a lid on the budding insurrectionists who wanted to declare total anarchy. Cornelius Fudge and Rufus Scrimgeour had left quite a mess indeed, and Kingsley wanted the Golden Trio to be spokespeople for the Ministry, to inspire people to have another go at organised government. Seeing as they all felt a reasonable degree of trust in Kingsley's capacity to govern wizarding Britain, they agreed. It was an easy enough job – go where Kingsley says, and always agree with him.

Hermione knew that Ron and Harry were grateful to be able to go more or less on auto-pilot for awhile. For awhile, she was as well. However, she soon began to worry. What was going to happen to her seventh year of schooling? Would the Ministry come up with another job for her after this one was over? Did she really want to work for the Ministry longer than she needed to? Did she want to go to university? Didn't she need to officially graduate Hogwarts to do that? Did she really want to go back to Hogwarts so soon? What did she want to do with the rest of her life, anyway?

These were all questions she pondered as she traveled with Ron and Harry all over Britain, making speeches, occasionally signing autographs, and always shoving the Lifebond to the back of her mind.

It creeped up on her so slowly; she didn't notice it at first. Then she attributed it to the stress of always traveling. However, after three months of not being able to sleep without a glass of wine or a Sleeping Draught before bed, she began to wonder, but finally decided that she would wait awhile before making any decisions, abiding by her mother's old adage that it would either get better or it would get worse.

Unfortunately, it got worse. Hermione could barely sleep; when she did, it was from pure exhaustion, as she refused to become dependent on either wine or Sleeping Draughts. She felt constantly anxious, never at ease – as if she were waiting for something important, like her NEWT results.

Part of her stress and anxiety she attributed to her worsening relationship with Ron. She felt as if what she thought of as their "normal" relationship got on fine – that is, their regular friendly camaraderie they had always had; however, their romantic relationship was disintegrating daily.

Ron didn't want to talk. Hermione needed to talk.

She knew his reticence was because of the war. She knew he was recovering. She knew that he needed to be silent, to think. However, she needed to talk. She needed to relate. And, she privately thought, if their needs were so radically opposed, how could they work a real relationship?

Meanwhile, her ability to sleep was continually eroding, as her anxiety and stress were continually mounting. One morning after three more months, she woke up very sore. She couldn't remember doing anything particularly strenuous the day before, but she shrugged it off, stretched and waited for it to pass.

A week later, her achiness was not better, but worse, and she went to the nearest Healer. According to him, there was nothing wrong with her a good Sleeping Draught wouldn't cure. After that, she decided to try her parents' physician. That was a dead end, also. Determined to find a solution to her problem, she went back to the Healer and asked him to run all manner of tests.

When she went back to talk to the Healer about her results, she had a disturbingly striking sense of déjà vu: The look on Healer Applegate's face was identical to the look that had been on the face of the Healer who had told her she may have "developed a Lifebond."

"Well?" she asked, nervously.

Healer Applegate sat down slowly on the stool in front of her, his face working on a perplexed expression. After a long silence, he heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well." He sighed again and said, "There simply isn't an easy way to put this, Miss Granger. It appears that the magical properties of your blood are changing."

"What!?" Hermione squawked. "That's impossible!"

"It certainly ought to be," agreed Healer Applegate. "Unfortunately, that's what's happening to you."

"But... but..." Hermione spluttered, "that... that... what do you mean, it's changing? Not 'changed'? Not 'might change'? It's changing?"

"Precisely," said the discombobulated Healer, pinching the bridge of his nose again.

"What do you mean, it's changing?!" Hermione demanded.

"Everybody has magical properties in their blood, which are rather similar to their DNA," explained the Healer. "They are unique to each person, just as each person's blood is also unique to them. Yours are, quite simply, changing. They do not appear to be changing into something else – you're not going to become a centaur. They appear simply to be changing into... well, a different version of you."

Hermione breathed in and out, gripping the edge of her seat. "Does that mean... I'm going to change?" she whispered.

Healer Applegate pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know," he said, frankly.

0o0o0o0

The 2nd Quarter

Hermione, infuriated with the dead ends to which her search for information in the wizarding world had led to, grimly determined to make use of a magic no wizard had ever before dared to attempt – the Internet.

Her simple search for "lifebond" initiated 2,500 hits. She clicked on the Wikipedia link.

Lo and behold – The Legend of the Lifebond.

What she found there did not please her.

Her next step, she knew, must be to tell Harry and Ron – especially Ron. Unhappily, it was also the step she liked least.

0o0o0o0

The 3rd Quarter

"A Lifebond? With Snape?" Ron cried, jumping up from his seat, his fists clenched. Harry looked too stunned to move.

Hermione sat very still. "Look, it's not like I chose to form a Lifebond with Snape of all people! I didn't want this to happen!"

"Well, you didn't have to..." Ron shoved a hand through his hair.

"I didn't have to what, Ronald? Save his life? Save a good, brave man from an agonizing death?"

"You know I didn't mean that," he muttered.

Hermione sighed. "I know. Look, I... I just wanted you both to be prepared for... for whatever happens."

"It'll be all right, Hermione," Harry said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione smiled gratefully.

0o0o0o0

Final Quarter

"Well, dear, and what can I help you with?"

Hermione had finally bitten the proverbial bullet and gone to her last source of help – Madam Pomfrey. They sat over cups of a very familiar spice tea by the window at the end of Poppy's sick ward. Hermione spread one hand over the smooth surface of the little oak table and said,

"Thank you for meeting with me. I wasn't sure what else to do."

Poppy waited.

"You see, I've been having health problems. Most of them are directly connected to lack of sleep..."

"Yes, I was going to ask you what in Merlin's name you were doing with yourself to have those shadows under your eyes," Poppy interrupted. "You've lost weight, too. Eat that scone, don't play with it."

"Thank you," Hermione said, dryly, but she ate the scone. "As I was saying, most of my health problems are connected directly to lack of sleep."

"Take a Sleeping Draught, dear."

"I tried that at first, and wine, but I was taking one or the other so often, and my ability to sleep wasn't getting any better, so I stopped. I didn't want to become dependent on them, you understand."

"Hmm... yes..." Poppy sipped her tea thoughtfully.

Hermione then went into the sordid details surrounding her information from Healer Applegate and from the Internet, expecting Poppy to gasp in horror, or at least show some sign of surprise, but contrary to expectation, Poppy simply sipped her tea, raised a brow every once in awhile, and listened.

Finally, as Hermione finished her narrative, Poppy set down her cup, sat back and said calmly, "Well, dear, it seems to me that your next step is clear."

"Please, tell me," Hermione said, her head now in her hands. "I have no idea what to do."

"It is quite apparent that you must find Severus."

0o0o0o0

Hermione started from her reverie and flicked a blade of grass from the knee of her jeans.

After her conversation with Poppy, the latter had given her Severus Snape's current address. He was now residing in a smallish, brick house at the top of a very large hill in Doolin, County Clare, Ireland.

Having overcome every bit of pride in her soul, Hermione now stood at the back of the house, hesitating to approach the iron gate in the brick wall. She had knocked at the door for several minutes, without an answer and she was fairly certain if she didn't see this through today, she would lose her nerve.

Finally summoning another blaze of Gryffindor courage, Hermione unfolded her arms, marched up to the gate, and through it, saw Severus Snape... who was sitting in the midst of a beautifully landscaped rose garden.