To Know Who I Am

Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to my beta reader ubiquirk, my Brit-picker Saracen77, and my alpha readers Bluedolfyn and Willow_Kat.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from this. If you think otherwise, there's this nice room in St. Mungo's for you.


Chapter 10

Severus Banished the latest set of empty potions vials back to Poppy’s storage area, sat back on the edge of Celia’s hospital bed, and stroked her hair. That seemed to soothe her. It was disturbing to watch her tremors and the way she would grab fistfuls of his robes as if hanging on for her life. This afternoon … yesterday afternoon by now, this had been the woman he had planned to take to bed. Now he was, in fact, on a bed with her, and she seemed hardly more than an infant in an adult’s body. He supposed he should be repulsed. He wasn’t.

He looked up as he heard his name being called. Minerva was standing near the foot of the bed, and she gestured towards the matron’s office, clearly intending him to follow her there. He extricated himself from the sleeping Celia and watched her a moment to see if she would wake, but she did not stir. As he moved away from her, he had the odd sensation of walking against a headwind or swimming against a strong tide. He tried to ignore it.

In the office, they found Poppy consulting what appeared to be a very old and ragged medical manual. She looked up as they entered.

“Poppy, may we borrow your office for a moment?” Minerva asked.

“Certainly.” The matron marked her page, closed the book, and stood to leave.

“Have you found anything?” Severus asked.

“Not yet.” Poppy’s eyes looked strained. That was not encouraging.

“What is it?” Minerva asked.

“This is not a normal reaction to such a short exposure to the Cruciatus. And a Slayer should be more resilient, not less.” Poppy rested her hand back on the book as though she wanted to open it again and resume her research.

“But that is not all they did to her.” He crossed his arms tightly.

“No. The way she responds to any attempt to open her eyes suggests, as you said, that they were also trying to use Legilimency. No one ever tried to use both simultaneously on you, Severus, only sequentially, and so far I am finding nothing in the literature about the effects of doing so.” Poppy sighed. “I’ll keep looking.” She nodded and left her office to them.

He stilled his own mind and thought about her words for a moment. It was odd that they would have tried to use both concurrently. Even if one were not trying to defend against Legilimency, it was a normal response to pain to shut one’s eyes tightly. That was, no doubt, the reason the Dark Lord had preferred to alternate the two when testing to see if one of his followers was hiding anything. Being hit by different curses at the same time often caused unforeseeable results, but Legilimency was a very different type of magic to curses. Would the combination cause something like this when rapidly alternating between the Cruciatus and Legilimency did not? That seemed unlikely. Fury and frustration welled up inside him again, and he firmly tamped them back down.

Minerva closed the door and turned to her Deputy. She appeared to be considering carefully what she would say.

“Harry has dealt with the assailant you left lying on the grounds,” she said at last. “Two Aurors have taken him to be questioned. Harry is now checking the grounds with Septima, both to verify that there are no more intruders and to attempt to determine how these intruders arrived.”

He nodded guardedly.

“Now, I want an explanation of your actions or rather the lack of them.” She peered over the rim of her glasses at him as though he were a first-year she had caught throwing hexes in her class.

He banished that thought, narrowed his eyes, and asked, “What would you like to hear?”

“I would like to know why, when you first realized Celia was in trouble, you did not alert me or any of the other staff, and I would like to know why you did not send an alert of any kind before you went to the hospital wing.”

She was right, of course. That it had been nothing but sheer instinct was no excuse. His instincts should have included raising the alarm immediately. Had the last half-dozen years of relative peace atrophied his responses so badly as that?

“I … do not have an adequate answer to your first question,” he admitted. “For your second, it was clear that Celia was the focus of the attack. They had already incapacitated her. If what they wanted was to proceed into the school, they would have attempted to do so before I arrived. Instead, once I arrived, the two who could do so fled.”

“You still should have alerted me immediately when you first became aware of the problem,” she said, her hands on her hips. “There could have been others. You could have been injured as well. Shall I continue?”

“No.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “You are correct, Minerva. I should have notified you immediately.”

Her expression became, if anything, even more stern. “I can see why you responded as you did, Severus. However, your first responsibility is the safety of this school and especially its students. I rather imagine Celia would agree.”

“Yes, Minerva.” There was no point in arguing. She was probably right. As far as he was concerned, Celia was welcome to side with Minerva against him because that would mean she was awake and speaking. However, he was sure Minerva did not see at all why he had responded as he had. He was not certain that he understood. Even from this short distance, he felt something tugging at him, insisting he go back to Celia, though not nearly as forcefully as before. When he had first felt that jolt of pain from her Patronus, doing other than running to her side had never entered his mind. He found that as troubling as Minerva did.

Minerva’s face softened, and she asked, “When did all of this happen?”

“I do not believe that is your business,” he snapped.

“If it is affecting your judgment, it most certainly is,” she retorted.

Seething, but keeping his expression impassive, he replied, “It’s hard to say exactly. The vampire attack, however, seemed to act as a sort of catalyst.”

“I see.” She stared at him intently, no doubt wondering how this had managed to escape her notice. “I should be glad to see you find some happiness, Severus.”

“I do not believe that ‘happy’ would describe my current state, Minerva,” he sneered before reeling his emotions back in once again.

“No, of course not,” she agreed. “Not now.” She paused. “You are the last staff member I should have thought I would ever need to remind not to allow your feelings to interfere with your duties.”

He acknowledged this with a stiff nod. It was more than that, but until he understood the magic involved, he did not care to try to explain it. Most likely he would not care to do so once he did understand it.

Minerva sat behind Poppy’s desk and gestured for him to take the other chair. As he sat, he observed that she was tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the desktop.

“Severus,” she said, “have you spoken with Albus’ portrait recently?”

That startled him.

“No,” he replied. “You know that I prefer not to do so.”

Her fingers tapped some more.

“I Flooed my friend, Rupert Giles, the Head Watcher,” she continued. “I shall have to inform him that her condition is more serious than I had realized. At any rate, I told him that I would have to consider whether it is advisable to retain Celia, and …”

“What?” he roared. He barely kept himself from launching back out of the chair.

Minerva looked at him sternly. “As I explained to both Rupert and Albus, if these attacks have been, indeed, directed at her primarily, then I must decide whether she poses more risk to the school as a whole than she represents protection for this one student who has yet to be identified and for all we know may not exist.”

He did not respond. Her words made sense, but yet they did not. If Celia was in danger, how could they send her away? Hogwarts had never refused anyone protection. Granted, this situation was very different. Among other things, he rather imagined she would not fancy the idea of being “protected.” He focused on the one bit that seemed not to fit.

“And why does this lead you to ask if I had spoken to the portrait?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Because he disagreed with me, and he has always put the safety of the school first.”

“Oh, yes,” he scoffed, “even when a would-be murderer had entered the castle not once but twice, he certainly put the safety of the school as a whole above keeping a particular student here.”

Minerva dismissed this with a wave. “That was a very different set of circumstances, and you know it, Severus.”

He decided to drop that line for now but to keep it in reserve. “And so you believe I would have convinced the portrait to keep her here because I would wish it, and to hell with the safety of the school? I would not do such a thing, and were I so persuasive, Minerva, he would not be a portrait,” he snarled.

“Really, Severus,” she said with a sigh.

For the briefest moment, he regretted his words as he took in the pained expression on her face. Then he hardened his resolve, but before he could say anything further, Minerva was speaking again.

“Do you plan to stay here tonight?”

“Yes,” he bit out. The pulling sensation was growing more insistent. He knew she was safe here, knew Poppy would watch over her. How many times had she done so for him, after all? But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“You may spend as much of this weekend here as you choose, Severus. I will tell the Slytherin Prefects that you are working on a special project and that they should report any problems directly to me.”

He was taken aback by this, and it took him a moment to deliver a cool, “Thank you.”

“On Monday, however, I do expect you to return to classes,” Minerva continued. “If she has not improved substantially by then, we will have to consider transferring her to St. Mungo’s.”

He closed his eyes, willing that possibility away. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and nodded.

“The rest of the faculty will deal with security. Depending upon the results of the Ministry’s interrogation, they may send Aurors to assist. I expect that when I contact Rupert, he will want to send his own reinforcements. I have not yet decided whether to accept.”

“If the target is Celia personally, then additional Slayers in the area should be a help, not a further danger,” he pointed out. “If they are simply targeting Slayers, then the student Potential is at risk, and multiplying the targets is one more way to protect her.”

“I will consider that.” The Headmistress looked as though she had not thought of the second possibility before and was not best pleased to do so now. “We still cannot be certain this Potential even exists. Celia may have been misled.”

He crossed his arms. “Perhaps, when you contact her Watcher again, you should request further information about how they came to this conclusion as well as further information on her unorthodox training.” He thought back to her conversation with Hagrid last fall, the one she still did not know he had heard. “I believe she has been trapped within her own mind before. Her teacher, Madam Rosenberg, may be able to offer some suggestion as to how we may reach her now.”

Minerva nodded. “I will have Poppy join me to discuss the implications for her treatment, of course.” She rose and stepped around the desk.

Severus stood and opened the door for her.

She paused on her way through the door and turned to say, “I believe she may be good for you. I would have expected you to tear apart the one assailant you caught, Severus, possibly with your bare hands.”

“If she does not recover,” he said coldly, “I very well may.”

~ ~ ~

Outside, something felt different. There was different cloth against her skin and less of it. The Robes and the Voice were gone, though the spicy-sour scent of the Robes remained on some of the cloth that covered her. Somehow she found that reassuring.

Inside, she was pacing a long room lined with cupboards and closets, all of which were so tightly sealed and locked that not even air could pass through their doors. She checked each lock as she passed it, testing to ensure no one could break in. Some of the cupboards had blue doors. They had special locks because they weren’t exactly hers, but it was important that she guard them. Most of the cupboards and all of the closets had green doors. Some had heavy-duty locks like the blue doors; some had simpler ones. In the corner was a cheerful little jelly cabinet that was covered in painted flowers and bright green leaves. There was one cupboard that held the keys to all the locks, but it was very well hidden. Unless someone knew exactly where to look, they wouldn’t see it at all, and she planned to keep it that way.

The door at the far end of the room led not to a closet or cupboard, but the basement. That door had more locks than any of the others, and she checked it far more carefully than the others each time she reached it. No one was going to get past her to reach any of these doors, least of all this one. And if they did, they wouldn’t be able to open them. She examined a particularly large padlock carefully. Satisfied that it was sound, she let it fall back into place, turned, and resumed her inspection of the rest of the doors.

Outside, time passed. Sunlight fell onto her eyelids, and as she woke, she nearly opened them. Then she remembered and screwed them more tightly shut.

The Robes were back, and when she turned to reach for them, they jumped. That made her sad. She didn’t want to frighten the Robes. She knew she frightened people sometimes, though she didn’t know how she knew that. The Robes and the Voice were Safe. They shouldn’t be afraid.

Another voice came. It was low and kind, and she liked listening to it. Then it tried to make her drink something, and she pushed it away. Hard. It was another trick, like the voice that tried to make her open her eyes. The new voice made a loud noise, and she heard glass shatter. She had to get away, but if she couldn’t open her eyes, how could she run?

The Voice made soothing noises, and she allowed herself to be calmed. Then the Robes gave her more things to drink. Some of them tasted horrible, but some tasted very good. The Robes tried to give her a different kind of thing to put into her mouth, but she wasn’t sure what to do with it. It was soft and fluffy and tasted good, but she couldn’t just swallow it, so she moved it around in her mouth until it was almost liquid and then swallowed it. After that, the Robes just gave her more things to drink while the Voice made more calming sounds.

She was very tired after drinking all those things, so she was happy when the Robes laid her back down so that she could go back to her guard duty.

~ ~ ~

“Poppy tells me there is no change,” Minerva said softly.

“No,” Severus replied. He set down the flask he had just convinced Celia to drink from next to the other empty flasks and the plate of fresh bread. That last was an experiment he would not repeat soon. He eased her back down and watched carefully until he was sure she was asleep, then stood to join Minerva by the window at the far end of this curtained-off corner of the hospital wing.

“You cannot let her become so dependent upon you.” Minerva rested a hand on his arm.

“I can hardly let her starve, Minerva,” he snarled, “and she will not let Poppy or anyone else feed her, much less give her the potions she needs.”

“If she needs to spend time at St. Mungo’s, she will need to learn to trust others, Severus.”

“I know.” He focused on the grounds outside the window. That was a topic he preferred not to consider. It bothered him to be so pleased that she had refused to accept help even from Hagrid, though he had befriended her first. He did feel badly that she had dislocated the half-giant’s elbow when he had tried to give her one of her potions this morning, but it had been a rather impressive accomplishment considering she still would not open her eyes. “Has Madam Rosenberg been reached?”

“I have not heard, and Rupert promised to contact us as soon as he made contact with her. It has only been a few hours.”

“I know.”

Silence.

“Have you heard from the Ministry?” he asked, turning from the window to face her.

“Not yet.” She was still looking outside, an abstracted expression on her face.

“What is taking them so long?” he demanded, gripping his own arms tightly. “A Veritaserum interrogation should have been conducted immediately.”

She turned to him and replied, “I am sure the Ministry will explain themselves every bit as thoroughly as they always do.”

“That is hardly comforting.”

“It was not meant to be.” She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded before exiting through the curtains.

His thoughts on the incompetence of Aurors were interrupted when Celia began to stir. He returned to his spot on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair until she settled back down again. Exhausted, he stretched out beside her and dozed.

~ ~ ~

Almost every time she woke up, the Robes were there, sometimes lying next to her, sometimes sitting nearby but just out of reach, and usually with more things for her to drink. She’d noticed that the Voice made one particular sound quite a bit. She wondered if that were her name.

~ ~ ~


“Severus, have you slept at all?” Minerva asked, looking down at him reprovingly.

“When she sleeps,” he answered, straightening his robes as he stood.

“Your first class starts in less than an hour.”

He could hardly forget. He had been dreading it throughout the night. “I will be there.”

“You should bathe and change first.” She wrinkled her nose as if to protest the inadequacy of the Cleansing Charms upon which he had depended throughout the weekend.

Unable to summon the energy for the sort of reply that deserved, he ignored it.

“Rupert said he has reached Madam Rosenberg,” she added.

His eyes snapped to meet the Headmistress’. “And?”

“She is working on the problem.”

That could mean anything. Most likely it meant she was duplicating much of Poppy’s research. No, Minerva would have seen to that. Would she come here? Then why not say so? What had she done the last time Celia had been trapped inside her own mind, as she appeared to be now? Would it work again, or were the circumstances too different?

“Severus …”

“I will be there, Minerva,” he said as he forced himself to follow her through the curtains and out of the hospital wing. As he drew further from her, he once again had the odd sensation of walking against a strong wind.

~ ~ ~

“Celia?”

That was the sound the Voice made so often, but this was a new voice. No, not new. Not new at all. And Safe.

Pacing the length of the room, she checked all the locks again. This voice could come in. It wouldn’t break into the cupboards and closets and especially not the basement, but it would want to see how she had guarded them.

“Celia, I’m coming in,” it said.

She stood in the middle of the room with her feet slightly apart and her hands behind her back, and about a yard away from her, the form of a redheaded woman flickered into being. She was happy when the woman came over to give her a nice, warm hug. Then the woman stepped back and looked around the room.

“Oh, Celia, what did you do?” the woman asked, her brow crinkling.

The woman’s voice sounded sad. Hadn’t she done it right? She pointed to some of the locks to show how well she had protected everything. She grabbed the woman’s hand, dragged her over to the door that led to the basement, and showed her how very many locks and what good locks she had used. The woman smiled but still looked sad.

“I know. You did … it’s really good that you didn’t let them in, Celia, but now you can’t get out. You can’t even talk!”

She looked down at the floor, feeling ashamed.

“No, no,” the woman said, putting a hand under Celia’s chin and lifting it. “It’s ok. You just have to come out now.”

She shook her head vigorously.

“You have to, Celia. You’re safe now.”

She looked at the woman warily. The woman was Safe. The Voice and the Robes were Safe. Was she Safe?

The woman was looking over the cupboards now.

“Which one of these has you in it, Celia?” the woman asked.

She smiled and ran over to the little jelly cabinet in the corner. The redheaded woman joined her and examined the lock.

“Where did you put the keys?” the woman asked.

She ran over to the opposite side of the room and pointed to a door that was so flush with the wall it could hardly be seen. It had no handle and no visible lock.

“How do you open it?” the woman asked.

She shrugged. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? That you couldn’t open it?

The woman sighed. “If I can get this open, do you know where they all go?”

She nodded. Of course she knew where they went. She’d put them there, hadn’t she?

“Okay, then. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to open this door, so you can get at all the keys. Then you need to open all the locks, starting with that one,” the woman pointed at the jelly cabinet.

Celia pointed at the basement door and shook her head violently.

“Yes, that one, too,” the woman said. “You don’t have to open the door, but you have to undo the locks. I know the things in there are scary and dangerous, and no, you shouldn’t use them all the time, but if you need them, you’ll need them fast.” The woman gave a lopsided smile. “I kinda think that’s why you’re all locked-up coma-girly in the first place.”

She hung her head again.

“We’ll talk about that later. When you can, like, you know … talk?”

She smiled a little.

“Okay, then, let’s get started.” The woman put her hands on the hidden door and said, “Open.” Bright yellow light flared from her hand and into the slight cracks that defined its edges. The door swung open, and the woman snatched her hand back. A large pile of keys poured out onto the floor around both of their feet making pretty tinkling sounds as they fell.

“There now.” The woman smiled brightly. “Let’s find the key for your little cabinet thingy first. I’ll stay with you until we find that one, but then I have to go, or you’ll just get way confused. Once that one’s open, you should be able to figure out the rest.”

They pawed through the pile of keys together, until the woman held one up that was very shiny and pretty.

“I’m betting this is it,” the woman said. “‘Cause … with the shiny and all.”

She nodded and smiled.

“Okay, then. Here, you take it and go open the cabinet. But now I have to go.”

She stopped smiling.

“I’ll see you soon, I promise,” the woman said, coming over to give her another hug. That was nice, and it made her feel a little less scared. “Don’t forget, open that one first, but then you have to unlock all the others. And Celia? When you do that, it’s time to open your eyes.”

She was a little frightened of that, but she nodded anyway. After the woman flickered and vanished, she walked over to the jelly cabinet and put the key in the lock. A tremor of fear ran through her, but she steeled herself, turned the key, and opened the door.

-----------

A/N: For those who may not be familiar with them, jelly cabinets are little free-standing cabinets, usually about three feet tall and fairly narrow, theoretically used for storing home-canned jellies, jams, and other preserves, but more often used for storing other things and kept around to give a countrified feeling to a home. They can range from very plain to highly decorated. You can see some variously decorated jelly cabinets at http://www.funkshonalart.com/Home_Accents/Cabinets.htm .