Chapter 2

Snape entered her mind easily, like sliding into water, just as he'd expected. She attempted a faint, weak resistance, but he pushed past it easily. He saw memories of her past few weeks of schooling, her worries about N.E.W.T. exams; all useless and pointless. A lot of pap about the Weasley boy and his unrequited feelings of love toward her. Fears of Voldemort and his minions, fears of--his mouth curled into a smirk--himself.

And then, as he approached her memory of that morning, he encountered a powerful, crippling shame and humiliation in her mind. It was like hitting a brick wall. He physically flinched and nearly broke the Legilimency contact.

What in the fuck?

He regained his composure and sank back into the memory: she left her room in Gryffindor Tower, she made her way to the dungeons, and then... it struck him again, a hot, powerful blast of intense and unbearable shame.

The emotion--one of the strongest he'd ever felt in someone else's mind--was divorced from the memories it should have been attached to. Normally a person's memories and emotions were inextricably linked. Looking into someone's mind meant experiencing not just their thoughts, but their feelings as well, all wrapped together. But Granger's memories of that morning were simply gone, leaving only the emotional resonance behind.

He tried following the emotions to their source, like tracing a single thread through a woven tapestry. Difficult, but he was an experienced Legilimens; few were better. This search, though, led him to the same featureless wall. The wall was nothing but a metaphor, the way that Hermione's mind interpreted the reality that some of her memories were inaccessible and hidden. But metaphor or no, it was completely impenetrable. Snape tried every trick, every tactic that he knew, but the wall was impassible. Whatever had happened to Granger in the past few hours, whatever had caused her this unbearable shame and humiliation, he could not reach it, could not see it. At last he withdrew from her mind, frustrated and angry.

"What the fuck?" he breathed, looking directly into her eyes. "What did you do?"

There is no way in hell that a seventh-year Hogwarts student, not even this one, could manage that level of Occlumency. Not possible. Someone had done this to her, built that wall to keep him from seeing into her mind. It had to be the same person who had broken his wards, the same person who had used Dark magic to bind and silence her.

What, or who, could you possibly have seen, for them to silence you like this... but leave you here, like a wrapped gift, for me to find? And why are you so ashamed? What did you do, Granger?

He needed to find out what Death Eaters had been doing in his quarters, and he needed to find out quickly. And he could hardly get anything done with a Petrified Gryffindor stuck in the middle of his office. He ground his teeth, realizing that he was going to have to ask for help.

Snape watched the girl. She blinked rapidly, her brown eyes bright and shining, and then a tear trickled slowly down her cheek.

Pathetic.

He briefly considered simply leaving her there while he examined his laboratory. The idea had its merits; he had to admit to taking a certain amount of pleasure in the girl's predicament. But, no. A childish satisfaction in causing the insufferable Miss Granger a bit of discomfort was less important than finding out who had been in his quarters practicing Dark Arts, and why.

He stared down his nose at her, seized with the sudden desire to torment her, to punish her for having invaded his privacy. "Odd that your... friends haven't missed you yet, Miss Granger," he said. "Or perhaps they have, and they're too stupid to sound an alarm." He paused, as though waiting for her to respond, and then finished, "Yes, that does sound more like them."

He knew he was being cruel, but he didn't particularly care. She'd had the temerity to enter his office without permission. This is what she got.

"Or maybe they simply thought you were in the library," he said. "Is that it? You're there often enough, reading your books." He let the corner of his mouth turn up in a sneer. "How much did your books help you today?"

He heard the tiniest sound from the back of her throat. Very interesting. He wondered what it had cost her to make that sound. Truthfully, if he had to be stuck with Hermione Granger in his quarters, it was preferable that she'd been silenced. He momentarily thought that he'd have to thank whoever had done it to her, but then considered the few likely culprits and decided against. He was not inclined to offer thanks to the Dark Lord's minions, not even for quieting one of his more irritating students.

Stay focused, Severus. It was time to call Dumbledore.

Half an hour later, Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had joined Snape in his private office. The two staff members examined Hermione closely, Dumbledore occasionally waving his wand and murmuring some small incantation, so far to no discernible effect.

"You say you found her exactly like this, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall asked, frowning at the frozen girl.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Yes, Minerva. What, exactly, are you implying?"

The older woman looked at him in surprise. "Implying?"

"Nothing. Never mind." He folded his arms and leaned against his desk, watching the proceedings with barely-disguised annoyance. "Shall I call one of the first-years to assist you two?"

"There's no need for sarcasm. This spell is unusual, and quite powerful. It may take some time to figure it out. Although hopefully not much longer." She frowned and peered into Hermione's eyes. "I don't know if being frozen like this will harm the girl. She has been cursed for at least... would you say two hours, Severus?"

"At least one and no more than eight, and that is all I can tell you."

Dumbledore, who had been tracing a complicated sigil in the air with his wand, stopped, nodding slightly.

"Minerva, I believe I have identified the spell. I'm surprised that Severus did not recognize it as well. It's a variation on Petrificus Totalus. A Dark variation," he finished, with a meaningful look at his Potions professor. Snape fought the sudden urge to adjust the sleeve of his frock-coat to hide the Dark Mark on his arm. It was well-hidden, but Dumbledore often had this effect on him. Even though the old bastard knew damned well that it was there.

"I am unfamiliar with such a variation," he said, keeping his voice even and level.

Dumbledore said, "Yes. Well, not many would be familiar, I suppose. Petrificus Silencio. Freezes the victim just as Petrificus Totalus does, but silences him--or her--completely. Much more importantly, it is impervious to Finite Incantatem, as we have seen. It is a rarely-used spell. Very difficult to cast, and even more difficult to make last for any length of time. It should wear off on its own soon."

Snape sighed with deliberate exasperation. "Would it not be more appropriate for Pomfrey to look after her in the infirmary? I have things to do."

"As you wish, Severus. We clearly can't leave her alone." Dumbledore pointed his wand at the girl and intoned, "Mobilicorpus."

Nothing happened.

With great feeling, Snape said, "Fuck," drawing a gasp from McGonagall.

"Severus!"

"Minerva, trust me when I say that I have better things to do than to sit here being nursemaid to an over-inquisitive Gryffindor brat for the next several hours."

Dumbledore revealed nothing with his expression except his usual façade of benign geniality. "Well," he said cheerfully, "I doubt it will take that long. Although it's impossible to be sure, of course. Notify us as soon as she's free, won't you? Minerva and I will investigate the problem of how Death Eaters got into the castle in the first place."

He and McGonagall departed, leaving Snape alone again with the Petrified girl.

He rose from where he'd been leaning against his desk, arms still folded, to glare at her. She made no reaction other than to blink, and somehow this irritated him even further. He hissed, "You're probably enjoying this, aren't you? Why is it always you and your obnoxious little brat friends who cause these problems? The only thing worse than having to look at you here, in my quarters, of all places, would be having to sit here and babysit Weasley, or Merlin forbid, Potter." He spat Harry's name as though it were a curse.

Then, as though flipping a switch, he shifted back into the smooth, controlled Snape she was more familiar with. "I will find out what you were doing here in my quarters, Granger," he said. "I will find that out, and I will find out what else you did. I know you're ashamed of something. I saw it." Her eyes opened wide in shock, and his lip curled into a grin.

"Oh, yes. Did you think you had hidden that from me? You will tell... me... everything."

He tapped her chest with his wand as punctuation, and then fixed her with a baleful glare for a long moment before finally retreating to his laboratory, turning his back on her before the tears escaped her eyes, leaving slow tracks down her motionless cheeks.