Ten

Many thanks to my beta, Soul Bound.

A loud, incessant clanging woke Hermione from her deep sleep, but the young witch moved deeper into her blankets, trying to recapture the strange dream she'd been having. She yawned deeply as the metallic noise continued to pound into her and gagged at the rotten stench. Hermione opened her eyes and saw an odd bobbing movement near the wall of the darkened hospital room. The witch rolled over to get a better look...the blue and white enamel bowl was hitting the wall. It took longer than usual for Hermione's sleepy brain to register the strangeness of what she was looking at, but when she did, the witch sat bolt upright and glanced about the dim room. There was murky water swirling around the legs of the bed instead of the expected shiny, tiled floor.

Hermione couldn't believe it...water...here in the hospital wing? And how it stunk... Hermione pulled her blankets up to cover her nose before she choked. Other than the bowl clanking, there was complete silence. But Hogwarts was not normally this quiet. In a castle full of students, teachers, ghosts, portraits, and house–elves, there were always slamming doors, murmurings, footsteps and countless other sounds that echoed about the castle.

Plumbing. It's got to be the plumbing, Hermione realized. It was the only thing that could cause flooding like this to occur. She knew absolutely nothing about plumbing...let alone plumbing in the wizarding world, but remembered the Basilisk lived in the pipes under Hogwarts for years. If great labyrinths were dedicated to the plumbing, she reasoned that it must be fairly complicated. Hermione wondered how the wizarding world went about fixing this sort of problem. Did they call a plumber? No, that was such a straightforward, Muggle thought; they would have to use copious quantities of magic and complicated spells, Hermione thought cynically.

Her stomach churned from the awful smell, and she realized horribly that there probably was sewage in the water as well. Maybe the sewage pipes had burst too?...what else could cause this smell? It was something she didn't really want to dwell too much on mostly because Hermione knew she was going to have to wade through it to find someone. The young witch sat there a bit longer, hoping to hear a noise other than the bowl hitting the wall. Nothing, no other sounds could be heard. Maybe they'd evacuated everyone and forgot about her, although that seemed so unlike the Madam Pomfrey she knew. Still, it shouldn't be too difficult to find someone in a whole school full of students and teachers, she thought. Hermione swung her legs around, unable to stand the bad smell any longer, and gingerly lowered herself into the thick, mud-coloured water.

'Oh, gross,' muttered Hermione out loud, her voice echoing strangely in the watery acoustics.

The cold water came up to her knees, so she tucked her hospital gown into her knickers to stop it from getting wet. The witch moved carefully to the door, using the bed to help keep her balance. It took several attempts to open it, and in the end she had to give it a hard yank, which sent ripples into her room, making the bowl bang furiously against the wall. Hermione knew straight away from the eerie silence that nobody was in the darkened general ward either. She stood in the doorway, the cold water swirling around her knees, and looked out at the hospital beds, which were like strange rectangular islands in neat rows.

Gritting her teeth, the witch stepped out into the ward warily; the water was murky, and she couldn't see where she was placing her feet. Luckily, the water was still, so Hermione worked her way easily across the room towards the door. She was about half way across when a sharp pain ripped through her right foot and she stumbled forward into the water, sending a wave out from her. Hermione scrabbled to her feet, spitting out the water...it tasted disgusting. She held onto a nearby bed and inspected the cut...it wasn't too deep but was bleeding profusely. Hermione determinedly ploughed towards the corridor door.

Again she stood for a bit in the doorway, trying to orient herself; by now she was shivering with cold and uncertainty. The water and the darkness were playing with her sense of direction, and the witch didn't want to become disorientated. The water in the corridor was moving swiftly towards the stairwell, which it gushed noisily down. The witch knew she couldn't easily go against the water flow, so she edged along the corridor wall towards the stairs. It was a deceptively strong current and tugged incessantly at her knees; every time she moved her foot forward, the water wanted to tip her over. Hermione yelped in fright when something touched the back of her knee; her scream was submerged by the noise of the water pouring down the stairwell. She looked down and saw a woman's black shoe float swiftly past her. Worry started to creep into her. She still hadn't seen or heard anyone, and where was the woman whose shoe it was? Where had it come from? Maybe something more serious than overflowing pipes had occurred. The noise of the water became louder the closer she got to the stairs, and the flow of water around her knees increased in its strength. Hermione firmly gripped the handrails at the start of the stairs to stop her feet from being swept from under her.

Then above the sound of the water, Hermione heard a murmuring. Was it a voice? She strained her ears...yes it was most definitely a voice. There were more murmurings. Two people talking...she wasn't alone. Hermione sloshed forward but stopped abruptly. She couldn't work out which direction the voices were coming from. She peered back up the corridor but couldn't see anything except blackness, and she couldn't yet see down the stairwell.

'Hello! Where are you?' Hermione called out and was startled to hear it come out in the ancient tongue. The witch distinctly heard women talking, and relief flooded through her. But she still didn't know which direction they were.

'Miss Granger.' An urgent voice came echoing towards her.

'I'm here!' she called out with relief, but was puzzled that it came out again in the ancient tongue. It was as if her English had disappeared all together.

'What is she saying?' A voice swirled towards her.

'I don't know. Go and get him, now.'

'But he's teaching.'

'I don't care...just get him.'

The conversation did not make any sense to Hermione. She paused, shivering, trying to decide which way to go and decided at last to carry on going down the stairwell. The thunderous noise of the water cascading down the stairwell became louder the closer she got. Straining against the strong, relentless tugging at her knees, Hermione edged along, holding tightly onto the handrail. At last she reached the top of the stairs and looked apprehensively down. It was a white churned up waterfall...the quantity of water going down the stairwell was extraordinary; she never knew Hogwarts used this amount of water. Hermione carefully slid her foot to the edge of the step, but the strength of the water finally knocked her off balance, and she slid rapidly down the stairs. Hermione furiously tried to grab hold of something, but it was only at the last step that she finally managed to seize a banister and hold onto it. Coughing and spluttering, Hermione looked about and instinctively wrapped herself more securely around the sturdy post.

The ground floor corridor was dim, and a river of deep, fast flowing water was raging up from the dungeons and out the main doors. The witch didn't know what to do. Going back upstairs wasn't an option, but casting herself off into the torrent seemed like sure death. An upturned basin bobbed swiftly by, and by its speed, Hermione knew she mustn't let go of the banister. A much larger shape rolled towards her from deep within Hogwarts, and with a jolt, the shivering witch realized it was a body. Thinking it was futile but needing to all the same, Hermione called out, 'Hey! Reach for me!' Her voice barely raised above the deafening roar of the water. As the body drew nearer, Hermione saw the man's face; his eyes were open, and he was struggling to keep his mouth out of the water.

'Reach for me!' she yelled desperately.

Slowly the man moved his arm towards her, trying to reach for her, and with that movement Hermione knew it was Harry.

'Harry, reach for me!' she cried as the wizard drew closer. Not knowing what else to do, the witch reached out as far as she could with one arm, hoping beyond hope she could grab hold of him. The water dragged furiously at her, so she closed her eyes and used all her strength to hold onto the banister. A cold touch...Hermione grappled furiously, not wanting him to slip past her. Cold fingers, then a cold hand, came into hers, and the witch pulled with all her might and felt Harry moving towards her. But when Hermione opened her eyes, she saw a dark shape floating past her towards the main doors. Yet she felt Harry's cold hand in hers. The witch looked down and saw his rotten, grey hand in hers. It had been torn off at the elbow, and dangling from it were sinews and muscle. It was too much. Hermione closed her eyes and screamed, feeling herself falling into the foul waters and being dragged under. And still the witch screamed until she could no longer feel the water around her...could no longer feel Harry's hand in hers. But Hermione didn't open her eyes...couldn't open her eyes to the horror.

She felt him around her and in her as she was around him and in him, but still panic gripped her. Warmth, darkness and pulsating rhythm soothed her soul. Still she screamed. But there was no sound; it had been absorbed before it could become an actuality. Hermione moved closer in to him than ever before, and he allowed her to seek solace in that. He started to shift around her, and Hermione knew he wanted to set her back down into the sadness and the pain again.

'No!' she cried out against him for the first time ever and clung still closer to him.

'But I must, my love. You cannot stay here yet.' He continued to shift around her.

'No! It's too much! You ask too much of me! Too much!' Hermione sobbed with all her heart.

He moved around her, calming her, reassuring her, comforting her, and the blind panic flowed away, leaving her only with an all pervading sense of sadness.

'But I long to be here with you. It's where I want to be,' Hermione softly cried.

'I wish it also to be so, but it cannot be. You hurt so. '

He caressed her gently, and she leaned into his touch, accepting his wisdom and regretting her outburst.

'But how will I find my way back?'

Her known route back didn't exist. He had come to her rather than her seeking him.

'I will guide you back. The man of spring water will draw you in.'

Hermione was surprised...he had never named another person before. He carefully scooped her up and drifted her away from him, lightly, as if she were a balloon being wafted across a room. Hermione relaxed, feeling secure that he was there, and then he quietly faded, not disappearing...he would never do that...but stepping back from her.

Hermione breathed in, smelling the grounding oil, and felt a steady warmth in her hand...where Harry's cold, dead hand had been. The ancient drawing incantation flowed over her, and the witch became aware of the deep throbbing ache in her back, the sharper pain down her chest and her hand, the discomfort of her forehead and the awkward position she was laying in. Amongst it all, she could feel pins and needles all down her right side from lying unmoving for all this time. But the horror of what she'd seen still lurked close by. Hermione slowly opened her eyes and saw Snape's face cast downwards, his eyes shut, with a frown of deep concentration on his forehead. She listened to his rhythmic, flawless chanting and his rich, deep mountain accent.

'My teacher,' she croaked out finally.

Snape's eyes snapped open, and relief poured from the dark eyes. He closed them again briefly, letting out a puff of air and moving his shoulders to release their tension.

Hermione was mortified to feel tears well up, making Snape's face move in crazy ways. She didn't want to cry, but everything she had seen, smelt and felt crowded in on her and threatened to swamp her. For the first time in her life, she felt a sliver of resentment; she didn't want to do this anymore...didn't want to be shown things like that...didn't want to have to try and work them out. Maybe she should go and live a quiet life as a Muggle...it sounded so good to her right now.

'I am pleased you have returned, my lady,' Snape said gently, reopening his black eyes.

Unable to meet his gaze because of her tears, Hermione looked down and saw Snape still holding her left hand. His hand was in the precise drawing down position, and all up her forearm were the ancient symbols of earth marked in white. Snape had drawn her back. She was back again at Hogwarts. Back in the hospital wing. Back to Ron's death. It was too much. But it didn't feel real. What was real anyway?

'I didn't want to come back, my teacher. I wanted to stay. It's not where I want to be, but he made me come back, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to.' Hermione closed her eyes...then at least she could pretend he wasn't watching her crying. She really did sound ungrateful even to her own ears. Hermione felt a roughness on her wet cheeks and, opening her eyes again, saw Snape wiping her tears away with his thumb.

'He is right, my lady; you need to be back amongst us. I cannot even pretend to know what it is like, my lady, but I do understand it is a difficult skill you have. And I only know that I am pleased you have returned,' he said in barely more than a whisper with his eyes cast down.

'But I saw Harry, and it was awful. Everything was flooded and stank. This room, the ward, maybe the whole of Hogwarts, I don't know. I saw Harry floating by, so I reached for him, but his arm was rotten and came off in my hand, and then he floated away. Oh, it was horrible and so real,' blurted out Hermione as the images pounded back into her.

Snape gently stroked his finger soothingly across her cheek as if knowing she needed touch as much as the incantations to anchor her to this reality. 'Shh now, my lady; it is what he has shown you, but that is not our reality. Look at the room; look at the floor...there is no water. This is our reality. We are at Hogwarts in its hospital wing, and I am sitting beside you. Behind that door is a ward full of sick children. Well, most of them are trying to avoid the first round of tests coming up...but that is neither here nor there right now. Madams Pomfrey and Smith are tending the children right now. Harry is entertaining...oh, I mean, teaching...fourth-years as we speak. The students are about to finish their afternoon classes. You are here now. This is our reality.'

Hermione looked about the reassuringly bland, small room she was in and breathed in the smell of bleach, trying desperately to chase the images away.

'But it seemed so real. I'm so pleased it wasn't real. It truly was awful.' Then she looked into his black eyes and noticed the dark rings under them. 'I am sorry about that; I don't usually cry and that sort of thing, and I am truly thankful to you that you drew me back as you did. I am indebted to you that you were there. I don't want to sound ungrateful.'

Snape moved a lock of hair out of her eyes and shook his head; his eyes had a curious light in them. 'Do not apologize, my lady, I am given to understand that it takes tremendous strength and courage to do what you just did and would imagine that for you, it does not finish abruptly when you are back amongst us. Remember it is a great privilege for me to aid and abet you at every possible opportunity I have.' Then his lips twitched. 'Besides which, my dear grandma would have been delighted to know that I am finally using the skills she so rigorously taught me in a beneficial way. Though I doubt even she could have imagined the caliber of magic I am interacting with now.'

'Your grandma must have been a conversant woman to have taught you the drawing in chant,' observed Hermione.

'Yes, she was indeed,' came his soft reply.

There was a gentle tapping on the door, and Snape quickly took his hand from hers, straightened, and moved his chair away to a more neutral distance. His absence of touch left Hermione lurching, unsure and unsteady.

Madam Pomfrey's head popped around the door. 'Shall I let Professor McGonagall know?' asked the mediwitch from the doorway, as if reluctant to come in when she saw Hermione awake.

Snape curtly nodded, his lank hair obscuring his face.

'Is there anything else you will be needing, Professor Snape?'

'Ask Professor McGonagall to arrange for the Thestrals to be harnessed and ready. We will be leaving shortly.'

Madam Pomfrey nodded and quickly disappeared back behind the door.

When the door clicked shut, Snape let out a tired sigh. Hermione noticed Snape was wearing his teaching robes and that afternoon light was coming into her room. Not only were her different realities wanting to merge, but her sense of time also seemed wrong; she wanted his touch again to regain her balance.

Snape looked at her steadily and rubbed his chin slowly. 'My lady, I think it is best that you are moved away from Hogwarts. There is too much magic here, and it will not allow the necessary healing to take place. There is a cabin in the Forbidden Forest that is far enough away from Hogwarts and its magic, but still within its protective wards. The forest will also provide a further insulating layer. We will be taking you there shortly.'

Hermione nodded. What could she say? She was just so pleased to be away from the flood dream that anything else was inconsequential, although her back still hurt dreadfully. The young witch truly didn't have the energy and was just pleased somebody as clever as Snape was making these decisions for her. As soon as she thought that, Hermione realized it was a true indication of how strange her life had become. But still something nagged her...one of her worst things was having her sense of time messed with. Why was it the afternoon? Why was Snape in teaching robes? She couldn't quite work out what had happened when. What was the last thing she could remember? Even that seemed a strain, as if she was reaching back into her memory for years gone by, but that obviously wasn't the case.

Snape must have noticed her frowning. 'What is it, my lady? Is it about the move? It really is the best place for you, and I will make sure the move is done painlessly.'

'No, it's not that. I hate it when I can't work out the sequences of things. What happened?'

Snape settled into the chair and ran his fingers wearily through his hair, pulling it back from his face, revealing his harsh features. 'I gave you a sleeping draught last night, so you slept through the night and most of today. But this afternoon you became highly agitated, and Madams Smith and Pomfrey were worried that you were having a turn.'

'I remember voices, women's voices, but they didn't make any sense. How strange, I've never had that happen before.'

Snape was listening intently to her and looked as if he was about to ask her a question, but paused, then picked up on what he was saying again. 'Madam Smith called me from the classroom, and I recognized what was happening to you and was able to bring you back. Of course with his good grace.'

'How long was I gone for?'

'Three hours.'

'Three hours!' Hermione gasped. 'I've never been away for three hours!'

'I thought at different stages I was failing. It has been many years since I had recited that chant, but then you fortunately fell back into pattern.'

Hermione knew how utterly draining the drawing chant was for someone else to do. Then she remembered he'd been teaching this morning, tended her last night, and had withstood the attack yesterday. 'You must be exhausted, my teacher. '

'Yes, I think I will sleep well tonight,' he agreed, 'but I will be happier when you are moved away from this magic.'

Hermione felt exhaustion crash into her and nodded wearily. She wanted anything to stop the aching, throbbing pain in her back. Snape stood up fluidly and moved soundlessly to the table where he measured out a green potion into a goblet. He stepped close to her and held it to her lips. 'You need to drink this, my lady; it's to protect you during the move.'

Hermione drank it down; it tasted surprisingly nice. She moved her head deep into the pillow and saw Snape sit back down beside her, and without thinking, she held out her hand, needing touch to keep her in this realm. Snape looked at her deeply for a second and then placed his hand back into hers. Secure that she wasn't going to leave this world, Hermione's eyes dropped shut, and she knew no more.