The Seven Year Sleep

Chapter Two
It's Strange that You're a Stranger

Wow, I was really overwhelmed with all of your kind comments... I am really glad that people like the story and very grateful to all the amazing reviewers. I love you!
To be honest, it's just a thought that came into my head and wouldn't leave. So I'm making up things as I go along.
I'll try to update at LEAST three times a week, but my muse can be a stubborn little whore, warning you guys up front.
Neelix, I'm so glad you like my story =D I just read your new story and fell in love with it.
Anyway, here's the next chappie!

All right, so he had taken the Calming Draught. And the Blood Replenishing Potion. And the Pain Elimination Potion, which had tasted like kitty turds. But Severus Snape refused to drink anything else, unless it was purely alcohol, because it was the only thing that would make him feel any better about this situation. Which was entirely ludicrous, and way over his head.

He was relieved that Miss. Granger had not returned to his room last night, because he would have been at a loss as to what he should say to the witch. What did one say to a former student and current wife whom he could not remember? Severus closed his eyes. It was easier to think that way.

How on earth had he gotten married to that mouthy little know-it-all chit of a girl? It was really quite unbelievable.

First of all, he probably should have been sent to Azkaban. If they had started... (Severus made a moue of distaste) dating seven years ago, Miss. Granger- no, Hermione- would have been just on that side of legal. Just barely.

Severus really did not want to dwell on how the relationship had begun.

But even if this wasn't a huge hoax, then how had Severus gotten to this point?

How did he come to have no memory at all of how the last seven years had passed?

His ear twitched when the door to the hospital room slid open, and he barely stifled a groan. He really was not ready for a confrontation with his wife, and yet he could see the determination coloring the witch's face as she walked in. It was the same kind of intent look Severus had been used to seeing in the classroom, as she sped through pages in the many, many books she would lug around or scribbled notes furiously, absolutely needing to get the answer. Lying propped up against the pillows, Severus lay with his dark eyes half-lidded as Hermione stepped bravely next to him, her chin up defiantly but looking a bit unsure.

He took in the sight of his wife with well disguised curiosity and interest. Seven years had apparently worked wonders for the witch. She was no longer the buck-toothed chipmunk, all teeth and ostrich's nest of hair. She still wasn't very tall, but he could see that the bushy hair had calmed down into softer waves of chestnut brown, much more manageable and attractive. Though obviously Hermione was never meant to be a voluptuous woman, she had lost that stilted, lollipop look of her childhood. Curves rounded out the gray sweater and wool slacks she wore in a subtle, womanly manner that had Severus' masculine approval.

But she still had the annoyingly courageous Gryffindor stance, he thought with wry amusement, noting the way her bottom lip stuck out a bit. Part arrogance, part utter nobility, part stupidity.

"Hello," she said, her light amber eyes resting to the side of his face. Hermione was finding it a bit difficult to hold the gaze of his familiar black eyes without feeling deepest hurt, for Severus had made her feel as though she were a stranger.

Severus merely nodded, looking at her.

"I... I came to visit you today," Hermione said needlessly. "I thought you might like the company. Also... Mediwitch Shelley said that you could probably go home today, if you like. There's not much else that can be done here."

"I should like to leave. I do not like hospitals," Severus intoned. "Where would I be going?"

"Home, of course," Hermione said, surprised. Then, realization set in. "Ah. We, uhm, are living together."

"I see."

"Severus... can't you remember anything?" Hermione asked softly, her eyes finally meeting his. "You don't remember anything at all?"

His stare was level and cool, making her bite her lip. "Nothing at all, I'm afraid. To me, it feels as though Voldemort were still alive." He hesitated. "He is dead, I assume?"

She nodded dumbly. There was so much to be said, so much that she couldn't say, so much that he had forgotten. That he had to relearn. They had to start from base one, assuming he even wanted to start over. As if he had seen what Hermione was thinking about, Severus spoke.

"Miss. Granger, with all honesty, I'm not sure how to approach our relationship. I think of you now only as my student, and it is strange to me to think that we are wedded. I cannot recall thinking of you in a romantic light... so please try to refrain from acting, well, I think you understand," he said awkwardly. A dull flush had suffused his pale cheek, and a hint of embarassment crossed his features.

She felt miffed. "I do understand, PROFESSOR Snape. Apparently, you want to keep our relationship as pragmatic as possible. I will respect your wishes," Hermione responded stiffly, feeling a bit hurt even though she understood him, at least to some extent. It was just difficult for her, and Severus saw that, though his face remained impassive.

"You don't mind taking a cab home, do you? I thought that it might be better not to strain yourself with Flooing or anything like that," Hermione said, helping the wizard up with a gentle hand despite her sadness and disappointment. He winced a bit when his neck strained.

"No, a cab is fine."

Not that he was dreadfully fond of cabs, they took ages to get anywhere and he always felt a bit queasy after riding one, but it wasn't as though he had much choices. Flooing would be hell on his neck. Severus stood still as Hermione went to get his black robes from the closet. When she came back, he moved as if to take it from her, but she made a face at him.

"I won't jump your bones, Severus," she said impatiently, magicking the hospital gown off him, and sliding the black ones onto him.

She smiled at him in a slightly impish manner then that made Severus' heart quicken. It wasn't as if he felt any affection for her... but Hermione did look almost adorable with her head cocked to the side, her amber eyes glinting mischievously and her lips curved.

"I suppose you won't mind being naked under those robes," Hermione asked huskily.

"It's warm for September, I suppose I won't freeze my nads off," Severus said tartly, not looking at her. It was so odd having a former student flirt with him in this manner, looking at him as if he were a rather choice sweet. His face paled further. If they had been married, surely the witch had seen him NAKED. Meaning they had to have engaged in... Oh dear Merlin. He was a cradle robber.

She laughed lightly, as though she knew what he had been thinking about.

"Let's go home."


---------------------------------------------


Home. So this was home, Severus mused, rubbing his neck lightly. The cab driver hadn't been as steady as he could have been, and his neck muscles were still rather sore. He took in the sight of the large, comfortable flat that had evidently been his home for the last three years. It was in a very nice building, with a doorman and elevators, and even a state-of-the-art gym for the residents. Apparently, he and Hermione made a good income.

The flat was on the eighteenth floor, and was decorated quite appealingly. It wasn't overly feminine, with all the lacy riff-raff and pink cushions that Severus despised, nor dark and drab and overpoweringly masculine. It was somewhere in between, a nice marriage of the two, with natural glossy-finished wood floors, walls painted in flattering hues: silvery-sage, warm pumpkin and autumnal colors with touches of crimson and gold, clean whites, warm yellows. A few tasteful pieces of art were arranged on the walls, silver bowls of red apples or cinnamon leaf potpourri sat on small end-tables, and a very large orange cat was curled up on a honey-brown and silver-green couch, dozing peacefully.

He didn't linger too long on the wedding picture that hung proudly in the living room- it felt too intimate and he didn't feel as though he deserved to see those two happy, smiling faces.

Instead, Severus stopped in the hallway and touched Hermione's shoulder. Questioningly, she looked up at him, and he felt a tiny pinprick of ... something, as he looked down into those gold-flecked eyes.

"It's a beautiful home," he said softly.

She blushed then. "Thank you. You helped, you know."

"Did I?" Severus said wonderingly, looking about him. Yes, it did make sense. There was the framed Order of Merlin First Class, a few cherished Potions articles safely behind glass, the touches of Slytherin hues, a silvery wood and leather armchair in the corner.

"I... I suppose you will want to sleep in the guest room for now," Hermione said, turning away from him.

"That would be fine," he answered her, relieved. Severus would have been willing to sleep in the living room if it came to that, but he would prefer a comfortable bed. He just wasn't ready to sleep with his wife yet. His eyes scanned over the back of the witch who was his wife. She looked tense, her shoulders down in a slightly defeated gesture.

"Shall I take you around the flat, so you can get a feel for it?" Hermione offered, looking at him over her shoulder.

"If you don't mind, I will do it myself." It was a dismissal, said kindly enough, but it still grazed against raw pride. He watched as her chin went up and her hope dimmed yet again.

"All right then. Well... I'm going to be over at Harry's, if you don't mind." As if he cared at all about her, Hermione thought sadly, biting her lip. "If you get hungry, there is some chicken and veg soup in the fridge, cold cuts, and bread." With that, she Flooed away hurriedly, tears burning at the corners of her eyes.

"Hermione!" Harry said, relief in his voice. "How's the old grump?" he asked, as he set down the mug of tea he had been drinking from. Then, Harry noted the tears, the trembling lips.

"Oh Harry," she whispered softly, collapsing in his arms.

Alarmed now, Harry held her. Hermione wasn't a crier for the most part.

"Hermione, what is the matter?" he murmured, stroking his friend's chestnut curls.

"He's lost his memory," she moaned. "He can't remember me..."

Harry didn't say a word, only kept on patting her hair comfortingly. Obviously, Hermione needed to vent, not hear what he had to say. Sobbing in a half-crazed, half-relieved way, Hermione told him, "Severus looks at me as though I'm a stranger, like I'm not his wife. He thinks it's still seven years ago! I don't understand this at all... who could have done this?"

The wizard led the hiccuping Hermione to his couch and gently sat her down. "Look Hermione, I'm going to make you a cup of tea. There are some things I need to tell you. About Severus' attack."

As he knew it would, Hermione's tears dried up in an instant, to be replaced with a flinty, intent stare.

"I don't need a cup of tea," she said automatically. Her eyebrows were drawn together tightly, her hands clenching in little fists. Harry sighed.

"How about a Firewhiskey then? I think you'll need it." Without waiting for an answer, he twirled his wand and a goblet of steaming Firewhiskey appeared. He thrust it at her, and a bit shocked, Hermione drank it obediently, though she actually hated the stuff.

The alcohol burned down her throat and scalded her lungs. "Gods, Harry, I don't know how you stand this foul liquid," she grimaced, putting the glass down on the coffee table before her. "Now tell me!"

"Berryberry and I were on Auror patrol in Hogsmeade. It had been a pretty quiet night, only a kid or two blasting some of Fred and George's fireworks. But then, as we were passing the Shrieking Shack," Harry stopped when he saw his best friend jolting, her brown eyes wide.

Why had he been at the Shrieking Shack? And who could have attacked him? And why? There were just so many questions... but Severus just couldn't answer them at the moment.

"I heard a scream. Then a popping sound, as if someone were Apparating. We rushed in, of course, wands at the ready, but the attacker was long gone. We found Severus... lying on the ground. As we did that night."

He closed his emerald green eyes, then.

"I thought he was dead. His neck had been sliced open. There was so much blood. Thankfully, it wasn't a lethal cut, and Berryberry healed it soon enough. Also, it seems as though our Professor is still as cautious as ever. There was a vial of Blood Replenishing Potion in his robes, among other things." A faint smile crossed Hermione's lips. Yes, that was Severus for sure, paranoid and twitchy.

"Well, you know the rest of the story," Harry sighed. "We poured the Potion in his mouth, and we contacted St. Mungo's, who took him and healed him."

"It's curious though... do you know if his memory has been modified?" Hermione asked.

Harry frowned. "Yes, I've thought about it as a possibility, but I don't think so, because Memory Charms don't usually wipe out seven years' worth of memories."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose." She stood up then. "It makes it worse that... that Severus and I were not on the best of terms when this happened. I think he was going to leave me," she whispered painfully.

"Mione..." Harry began, but then Hermione shook her head.

"I've got to go now, Harry. Thank you for everything," she said, hugging her friend tightly. "I love you."

"Take care then, Hermione," he said meaningfully. She sighed.

"I'll try," she replied, and jumped into the emerald green flames.