Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Severus paced back and forth with his hands behind his back. He'd found the perfect picture in which to pace. Located on the seventh floor, it had a view of the Gryffindor common room. Gryffindors, being what they were, cringed and hurried along their way upon noticing Severus' black-clad body pacing in the painting. That had given Severus a slight bit of satisfaction.

Not nearly enough, though. He glanced out of the gazebo where he paced and looked out into the 'real' world. No one was about as it was class time. Severus was thankful for that. He wanted peace and quiet so he could mull.

Where on earth could she have gone? It's been two weeks and no one has said anything about her. Filius knows, he just won't say. What could she be doing? Surely, she'll be back soon.

The fear that she would never return niggled at the back of his mind, but he cast it away. Hermione Granger didn't shun her responsibilities. No matter what had happened between the two of them while she had been in the painted world, she would not just leave Hogwarts for good. There must be another explanation.

He grimaced as his eyes wandered the empty hall before him. Why did she run? Was she that upset about them not being together that she had to escape? Or was it something else entirely? The selfish part of him wished it was because she was so very distraught about their inability to be together. The more practical part of him knew she wouldn't abandon her post for anything less than an important matter.

"It's over between us..." he muttered. "Get it through your head, man."

The loneliness he'd been feeling since he'd pushed her out of the painting enveloped him again.

Will this feeling of loss ever diminish?

He took up his pacing once more. His mind raced with thoughts of Hermione. He wanted to see her again, despite never being able to touch her hand or run his fingers through her hair. He just wanted her back where he could watch her and think of what might have been.

His dark musings were interrupted by a crashing noise coming from the far end of the hall. His head snapped up just in time to see Peeves zoom around the corner with a cackle. He floated here and there singing one of his made-up songs.

The Mistress is back

When I want to attack!

The poltergeist repeated his chant over and over again as he floated about past Severus' painting and away from him, knocking down a suit of armor in his wake. Severus' eyes grew large as the meaning of Peeves' little rhyme became evident. He hurriedly rushed out of the painting, his heart hammering in his chest with the anticipation of seeing Hermione Granger once again.

When Severus entered his portrait, he saw Hermione looking around quizzically. The old man who painted his likeness was standing there with her. Severus couldn't take his eyes off Hermione. He felt a deep sadness settle over him.

"I wouldn't know where to find him," Hermione was telling the old man.

Her gaze went back to his portrait and relief flooded her eyes. Severus felt his heart clench within him. He knew seeing her again would bring a flood of regret, but he hadn't anticipated it being so intense.

"Severus!" she cried as she rushed to the picture. Her hand went out, and she stroked his painted cheek. He tried to touch her, but no matter how he tried, he could not make contact with her hand even though it was stroking his face. He pulled away in frustration and stalked to his armchair, sitting down heavily into it.

"Where have you been?" he snapped. He hadn't meant to sound so sharp, but the frustration of their situation had grated on him for too long now, and the inability to touch her had made him rue the day he'd ever appeared in this bloody portrait.

Hermione moved away, a bit taken aback at his sharpness.

"We are here to help you, Professore," Franco DiGregorio explained from behind Hermione.

"Help me?" Severus asked as he eyed the old man narrowly.

Franco stepped behind Hermione's chair and in front of the portrait. "I owe you a great apology, signore. I did not know."

Severus looked from DiGregorio to Hermione and back. "Didn't know what?" he asked tersely.

DiGregorio looked at Hermione. She gave him a small smile, then turned to Severus.

"Evidently, when Franco cast the spell upon your painting, he left out one word."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "And..."

"Instead of instilling the portrait with simply your essence, he imbued it with your entire soul."

"Excuse me?" Severus asked incredulously.

Hermione explained again. Severus' eyes grew narrower and narrower as she told him how his soul was trapped in the portrait. He turned to DiGregorio and clamped his lips together in anger.

"So, I am to be trapped in this..." He motioned about him furiously. "Two dimensional prison for eternity?"

Hermione stepped back to the side of his frame. "Severus, I know this is a lot to take..."

He turned to her, wanting to sneer and rip her head off because of his situation, but he found he could only sigh deeply and hang his head in resignation.

"You have no idea what it feels like to be a prisoner of circumstance. I was hoping to escape that in death."

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look before continuing. "We've been researching ever since I left," she explained. "We think we've come up with a solution."

He looked out from behind the hair that hung in front of his face. "Solution?"

She nodded.

"What sort of solution?"

Stepping in front of the portrait, Hermione ducked low to try to see behind the curtain of hair Severus was hiding behind.

"We're going to try to pull you from the portrait."

Severus' head shot up. "How? How could that even be possible?"

"You see, Professore," Franco DiGregorio began. He was silenced by a quick flash of Severus' hand.

"She will explain... not you," Severus demanded.

DiGregorio gave him a slight bow of his head and retreated a few steps back, leaving Hermione to explain all.

"We've worked out a spell to pull your soul and painted form from the painting. It's complicated and needs both of us to cast it properly. In theory it will pull you out of the picture, and you will be alive once again."

"In theory..." Severus ground out.

"Yes."

"Have you tested this theory?"

"We tested it on a pet that had died recently. It seemed to work well enough."

Severus moved to the edge of the canvas. "Well enough? What does that mean? Who is to say that you will perform this spell and instead of saving me, you will send my soul into oblivion?"

Hermione gave him a pleading look. "Severus, we don't truly know. If you don't appear alive outside of the portrait, then you will cease to exist. As for your soul, we don't know where it will go. Hopefully back to the beyond, but we have no guarantees."

Severus scowled. "Leave me. I must contemplate this new development before I let you perform unknown magic on me. There is no guarantee that I will exist in any form once you do so. I need to contemplate that."

"Severus..."

"Leave! Come back in an hour. I will let you know of my decision then."

Hermione stepped to within millimeters of the painting. She whispered at Severus. "I'm sorry. This is all we've been able to come up with. I'm afraid too, but if we don't try it, you'll be trapped in this portrait for eternity."

Severus stared at her. He watched her nod to him, turn, and leave her office with DiGregorio in tow. He wanted to reach out to her and touch her, but he knew he could never do that. Not in this state.

Looking down at his painted hands, he smoothed them along his legs. Could their spell possibly work? He knew Hermione. She wouldn't suggest something unless she was sure it would work. Unfortunately, every new spell had a chance of failing. What would it be like to not exist at all? No consciousness, no form, nothing.

Nothingness, a painted prison, or the chance to walk the earth again... which should he choose?

Once he put it like that, the choice seemed simple. If he ceased to exist, he'd never know it, but if he were trapped in the portrait, he would always regret not trying to escape it. He would spend eternity as a two-dimensional painting. He'd watch Hermione Granger age and die, never being able to touch her again. After that, what? There was the possibility of spending eternity with her as a co-portrait, but how fulfilling could that be when her true soul would be in the beyond, and she would only be an imprint of what she'd been in life? It would fall short no matter how lifelike her portrait would be. Would he wait for her only to be disappointed with her reincarnation?

She was still quite young. He'd need to wait nearly one hundred years to be able to touch her. It was too long. An eternity too long.

No, he really only had one possible road, and that was to try the spell and hope to return to life. A new life he'd never thought possible during the war. A new life with a beautiful woman by his side. If Hermione's spell worked, all that would be possible for him.

"I'll do it," he muttered to himself as he settled comfortably into his chair and grabbed his book to await the return of the woman he loved and the man who'd made this new opportunity possible.

The usual thanks go to slytherinlaurel. Thanks, hon, for your constant positive suggestions.

Thanks to you, dear reader, for your enthusiasm for this story. So glad you are enjoying it.