When Living is No Longer Enough

When Living is No Longer Enough
By Sci-Fi Nut/ JStockert

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Chapter Twenty-One


Albus Dumbledore’s vivid blue eyes were not twinkling as they perused the latest statistical and casualty reports from the Ministry of Magic. Muggle attacks were becoming a means of nightly entertainment for Voldemort and his minions and it didn’t look like they would be tiring of their fun and games any time in the near future. ‘At least he hasn’t attacked any more students,’ the aged wizard thought to himself in a small attempt at consolation. He sighed and absently stroked his long white beard as he thought about the recent carnage and devastation that had been wreaked upon so many people in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds and suddenly felt as if the years had finally caught up with him. ‘If things continue those years may not only catch up with me but they might even stand a good chance at surpassing my actual age,’ he thought with a grimace as he filed the reports away in a desk drawer that nearly overflowed with a stack of similar reports.

Suddenly, a small object on his desk that had been charmed to look like a paperweight began to vibrate, creating a dull thudding sound as it softly hummed against the antique mahogany wood of the massive desktop. The Headmaster stood up and waved his wand over the object causing it to cease its movement. He once again sighed as he hurriedly made his way to the spiral staircase that would deliver him to the main level of the castle.

The cause for his sudden concern and impromptu tour through the corridors was a direct result of the ‘paperweight’ that rested on his desk. Dumbledore had worried about his Potions Master’s well being, both physically and mentally, for some time now but that concern had become more pronounced the evening Hagrid had found the man lying just outside the Hogwart’s perimeter so close to death. The night Voldemort had realized exactly where Severus Snape’s true loyalties had been placed. The object served much the samrposrpose of a sneakoscope except that this particular magical item had been charmed to alert the Headmaster in the case of a drastic change in the ger ger man’s emotional well-being. Not that Albus was worried that Severus would harm the staff or students, rather he had been worried about the Potions Master’s increasing flirtation with depression which, if left unmanaged, could escalate into self-harm. Of course Severus’ outlook on things in general had seemed to improve since his relationship with Hermione had begun, but one could never be entirely certain. The fact that the magical object had been activated was proof that the younger Wizard had attempted, if not succeeded, in doing himself bodily harm
‘
‘I really am getting too old for this,’ he thought and hurried toward the dungeons.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“Why isn’t he answering his floo?” Hermione asked the ginger colored cat for the umpteenth time only to be met with a bored look from the kneazle that plainly stated he couldn’t be bothered with such trivial human matters.

“Well, you just aren’t any help tonight now are you?” she asked in a dismissive tone of voice as she reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a light cloak. “Fine, be that Cro Crookshanks. I’m heading for the dungeons and you’ll be lucky if I decide to come back and see you at all tonight.”

The light slamming of the door roused the cat just enough to raise his head and note his mistress’ departure. Licking his paw, he lazily stretched and scratched behind his ear before settling back down to take a nap on the soft comforter that was still neatly laid across the large four poster bed.

Hermione increased her pace as she made her way through the empty corridors of the castle, her steps echoing softly as the tiny heels of her shoes clicked against the stonoorsoors. She wasn’t scheduled to return to Hogwarts until the following afternoon, but something had been nagging at her throughout the day. A thought or a fng png perhaps that something wasn’t quite as it should be.

‘Maybe it’s just the stress of everything that has happened this week,’ she told herself tiredly, but increased her pace ever so slightly all the same.

After standing by her mother throughout the debriefing sessions at the Ministry, Hermione assisted with the arrangements for her father’s funeral that, surprisingly enough, proceeded without interruptions. The young Witch had half expected to look up to see several Death Eaters appear in the middle of the funeral to finish the job they had started that fateful night when her father was killed. Fortunately for everyone involved, the ceremony concluded without incident and Hermione and her mother proceeded to their home to sift through the family belongings. Some things were kept, others discarded and still other possessions placed into storage for a time when Mrs. Granger might be able to come out of hiding and reclaim her identity. Until then, her mother would be safe under a new identity in theted ted States.

‘Somehow I just never thought mum would end up in Texas,’ she thought with a smile as she remembered the hokey movies she had seen as a child that always depicted Texans as beer drinking, hat loving, cattle owning people. ‘No,’ she sighed, ‘Lucius would never think to look for her there.’

The distracted Witch was so engrossed in her musings that she never saw the figure that had slowed to enter the Potion’s classroom until she ran headlong into it, causing a startled gasp from both herself and that of Albus Dumbledore.

“Headmaster, I’m so sorry,” she apologized, stepping back and straightening her cloak. “I guess that I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“That is quite alright, my dear,” the older Wizard replied in a kindly voice, “but I thought you weren’t due to return to Hogwarts until tomorrow evening?”

“Well, yes, that’s true of course, but I’ve just had this feeling all evening that something’s not quite right you know? So Harry escorted me back to the castle and I’ve been trying to contact Severus ever since, but he’s not answering his floo. I thought he might be working on the potion so I camwn twn to check,” she explained, feeling her cheeks redden with the slightest hint of a blush.

Dumbledore’s lips twisted into a sad smile as he patted her shoulder and motioned for the younger Gryffindor to follow him into the classroom. “I have not heard from Severus all evening, but I have reason to suspect that your premonitions may be correct and that he is in the gravest of circumstances,” he said as he quickly noted the classroom was empty and proceeded to check the private labs and Severus’ office.

“What has happened?” she asked worriedly, feeling her stomach begin to tighten in fear. “What do you mean by the ‘gravest of circumstances’?”

“I have an object in my office that was charmed to warn me in the event that Severus attempted any harm to himself,” he explained quickly, noting how Hermione’s cinnamon colored eyes widened in horror as the implications of his words made became clear to her.

“Why would he attempt to hurt himself?” she whispered, the knot in her stomach growing into a full-blown tidal wave of fear.

“That, my dear child, is what we are about to find out,” he replied gravely. Pulling his wand out of his sleeve, the Headmaster waved it back and forth in an intricate pattern across the entrance to the Potion Master’s private chambers and muttered a few incantations. With a small nod of satisfaction at having effectively disarmed the protective wards he returned the wand to its usual resting place and motioned for Hermione to follow him into the rooms that had become almost as familiar to her as her own.

“Oh Merlin, no!” she screamed and ran to stoop in front of the deathly still form of her lover.

“Hstilstill alive, although just barely,” Dumbledore noted quietly, deftly placing two wrinkled fingers at the base of Snape’s neck to feel for a pulse.

“But why?” she sobbed, looking into the grim expression of the Headmaster. “What would cause him to do this? I thought things were better. I thought…” her words ended abruptly when she spied the bottles on the table next to them.

‘Trust Severus to be so damned organized even in death,’ she thought angrily, noting the empty bottles sitting next to one another in perfect order. The first bottle was an empty liquor bottle, neatly capped and sitting next to an empty glass. The final object, resting next to the glass, was a small vial with just a trace of thick black liquid that had settled into one corner of the base. Reaching for the vial, she quickly uncapped it and carefully sniffed at the remaining contents.

“It’s a poison,” she sadly informed the Headmaster and briefly wondered why Snape would have chosen that particular potion. ‘I would have thought he would have chosen something faster acting without a common antidote…’

“We have to hurry,” she frantically shouted as she jumped up from her crouched position and ran in the direction of Snape’s private office. “We need a Bezoar laced with a mild dose of leeching juices.” Hermione ran straight to the cabinet that held the Potion Master’s private stores and retrieved the necessary ingredients. She then grabbed a small cauldron and tossed in the Bezoar and the required amount of leeching juices and stirred the mixture until it reached the correct color and consistency. Pointing her wand at the colored flames that danced underneath the cauldron, she murmured an incantation to douse the fire and then proceeded to cast a cooling charm on the yellowish liquid inside. Grabbing an empty vial, she quickly ladled the antidote into the glass container and ran back to Severus’ chambers, praying that she would be in time to administer the antidote. She firmly pushed aside the nagging voice in her head that whispered she might be too late and with the Headmaster’s assistance, positioned Snape so that she could place the liquid in his mouth and force him to swallow.

“Now we wait,” she whispered brokenly, sitting on the floor next to the dark haired Wizard.

A tense silence filled the room as the Gryffindors waited to see if they had arrived and administered the antidote in time to save the life of a man that was so important to them both. A small sob escaped Hermione’s mouth and she quickly brushed away a tear that had escaped the confines of her eye and was quickly trailing down her cheek.

“It will be alright, child,” the Headmaster said sympathetically, taking her hand in his. “Severus is a strong Wizard and he has fought his way back from death before when he had much less to gain. He will do so again. We must have faith.”

“But what would cause him to do such a thing?” she asked quietly, trying desperately to understand what the Potions Master could have been thinking or feeling that would push him to the point of suicide.

“I fear that we may not know the answer until Severus is recovered enough to tell us himself,” he answered softly. “Although, if I had to guess at his motivation, I might be inclined to think that it had something to do with that pensieve.”

“Pensieve?” the Charms Professor asked in confusion.

“Yes, my dear, the one on the table. I don’t remember Severus owning a pensieve of that color. I would guess that it was a ‘gift’,” he informed her, standing up and walking over to stare into the silvery liquid.

“Stay with him, Hermione. I am going to see if this might not hold the answers to which we are searching for.”

Before Hermione could reply, the Headmaster had once again removed his wand from his sleeve, dipped it into the silvery mixture of the pensieve and disappeared into the memories it held inside.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The murky tendrils of mist slowly cleared, allowing Albus to take a good look at his surroundings. He knew he was in a dungeon and while there were no discernible signs that would distinguish the cold stone walls from those of any other dungeon, he was fairly certain that he was in the dungeons at Malfoy Manor. The man before him was garbed in the robes and mask of a Death Eater and the light colored eyes that stared out from behind that mask were colder than the frostiest winter day. The woman chained to the wall was beaten and bloodied and the Headmaster let out a gasp as she raised her head just enough for him to discern her identity. It was the face of Hermione Granger.

‘No wonder Severus was driven over the edge,’ he thought as he watched the gruesome scene play out before him just as it played out earlier that evening for the Potions Master. The likeness was so complete that Albus himself would have believed that Lucius had managed to capture Hermione if he hadn’t seen her moments before safe within the walls of Hogwarts.

‘He must have used a Polyjuice potion,’ the Headmaster realized, disgusted at the depths to which the blond-haired man he had once called student had sunk. ‘There is no glamour that I know of that could have been that exact,’ he mused, noticing the minute scar on the side of the woman’s neck; A scar which Hermione herself carried as a result of an accident during her student years at Hogwarts.

Finally, the mist began to swirl indicating that the end of the memory had been reached and Albus Dumbledore found himself once again standing in Snape’s tastefully furnished rooms. Taking a deep breath, he quickly attempted to compose himself before turning to face the woman whose likeness he had just seen brutally tortured and killed. To say that the images had unsettled him would have been a very big understatement.

“Well?” Hermione asked anxiously, hoping that the Headmaster’s explanation would provide something tangible that she could hold on to. Any shred of information that might help her to understand what was going on in lov lover’s mind.

“While I usually do not condone suicide or see it as an answer to one’s problems, I will say that, after viewing the contents in the pensieve, I can understand why Severus may have chosen the path he took,” Albus replied and directed a look of sorrow to the dark haired man who still lay unconscious on the sofa.

“But what did he see?” she asked with her usual persistence. “I need to understand…” she never finished her sentence as she looked down and saw Severus’ black eyes staring intensely at her as if she were a mirage.

“Hermione, my love?’ he questioned in disbelief. “You look so real, you feel so real,” he murmured reaching out to take her hand. “I can even smell your perfume.”

“I am real, Severus,” she replied as the tears once again flowed down her face. “I’m real and I’m right here and now everything’s going to be fine and you’re going to be alright and you’ll never try something like this again.”

Snape chuckled softly as he heard her words. “So much like my own Hermione,” he whispered and reached out a hand to gently touch her face. “So positive and determined that everything will work out in the end. Just like she was…”

“Why doesn’t he believe me?” she asked her companion as a wave of panic ran through her body at Snape’s complete denial of her presence. “Why is he referring to me in the past tense?”

“He believes you to be an illusion, a sort of side-effect if you will, induced by the poison,” the Headmaster explained.

“But why would he think that?” she demanded, not understanding why Snape refused to believe she was anything other than a narcotic induced illusion.

Albus Dumbledore shook his head and yet again wondered if he wasn’t too old for the task of running a school. He hadn’t wanted to tell Hermione of the contents of the pensieve, but it looked like he was going to have to at least outline the basics. He knew the young woman well enough to know that this was a subject she would be unwilling to let go of.

“Hermione, the pensieve shows a most distressing scene,” he tentatively began, absently noting that Severus still clutched her hand even though his eyes had once again returned to a closed state.

“What kind of a scene?” she questioned, looking between the two men and instinctively knowing the answer would be something that she would be better off not knowing.

“It details an event, a most recent event, that most likely took place in Malfoy Manor, although I am certain that we could not prove this,” he answered, wondering if there was some way around telling the woman exactly what he and Severus had seen in the pensieve. “This event involves two people, a Death Eater and a young woman that was brutally tortured and murdered.”

The Headmaster stopped at that point of the story hoping that Hermione might accept that much of an explanation, but his hopes were soon extinguished.

“But Severus has seen that type of thing countless of times over the years and, while it makes it no less horrifying, I’m certain that it wouldn’t drive him to suicide.”

It was one of the few times in Albus Dumbledore’s life that he damned Gryffindor logic, but damn it he did in this case. He knew that Hermione’s sharp intellect and inquisitive nature would not allow her to let the subject rest with the minimal of questions. He also knew that the contents of the pensieve were not something that Severus would want the young woman to know about for many reasons, the least being that she would finally know the true horror of that which Lucius Malfoy was capable of. Realizing there was no way around the situation, he took a deep breath before saying, “Hermione, the woman in the pensieve was you. Severus thought that Lucius had tortured and killed you.”

The Witch sat back on her heels while an array of emotions flickered across her petite facial expressions. Dismay, shock, confusion and anger all played a role in her current mental state as her mind attempted to process the information that Albus Dumbledore had just laid before her. “But it couldn’t have been me. I mean, I was right here and I was with Harry before that. How could Malfoy have fooled him like that?”

“Think, Hermione,” the Headmaster said gently, “when you met with Lucius several weeks ago, did he harm you or maybe take something that belonged to you? Something that he could have used in a Polyjuice potion to imitate your likeness?”

“No,” she said, thinking back on the incident at Flourish and Blotts. “I mean, well, he grabbed me and pushed me but there was no way that…Oh no! Albus, he grabbed me by the hair! He pushed me and I could feel the strands pull away from my head, but I never thought that he might have had some of the strands or had planned to use them to…Oh no!”

“Well, I think that is one mystery solved,” Dumbledore said softly. “It will be alright, my dear. You are safe and it looks like we will have the pleasure of Severus’ company for a while longer at least,” he assured her, pointing to the dark haired man whose eyes were now open and staring thoughtfully at the distraught Witch.

“I told you that you were far too trusting, my dear,” Snape whispered softly as he tugged gentlyher her hand in an effort to pull her up next to him on the sofa. “You are real? You are really here?” he asked, desperately needing verbal confirmation of the messages his eyes were sending to his brain.

“Yes, Severus, I am really here. Although, if you ever pull such a stunt again I swear I will save Lucius Malfoy the trouble and hex you myself!” she told him fiercely, hugging him tightly while simultaneously thanking the Gods for giving him back to her.

“You are lucky, my friend,” Dumbledore told the young man who was pushing Hermione’s chestnut curls out of his face so that he could get a better glimpse of the Headmaster. “If we had been any later in arriving then we would probably have lost you. Luckily, Hermione noticed the vial and recognized the poison. It did not take long for her to brew an antidote.”

“A Bezoar,” Snape remarked, pulling the woman far enough from his body so that he could see her face. “The Bezoar should only have countered the poison. I should still be reeling from the effects of the opium, but I am not. How?”

Suddenly, Hermione felt as if she were back in her seventh year Potion’s class being asked to recite the steps to complete a potion. His tone of voice was classic Professor Snape as he was impatiently waiting for the answer to his question.

“Well, while it is true that it only takes the Bezoar to counteract the poison itself, I felt that it would be beneficial to add in some leeching juices to counter the effects of the opium.”

“Leeching juices?” he inquired, raising one eyebrow in a gesture she knew all too well.

“Well, yes. You see, the leeching juices are of a design to where they would counter the opium by chemically attaching to it and basically drying it up or ‘leeching’ it out of your system.”

“So that’s why the difference in color,” Albus murmured, silently applauding the young woman’s deductive reasoning skills.

“Professor Granger, if you were still a student I might actually be inclined to award you House Points for your deductive abilities, despite the fact that you are a Gryffindor,” Snape said with a smirk that couldn’t quite hide the underlying pride in his voice at her intelligence and unique solution.

“And since I’m not a student?” she questioned with an impish grin.

“We will discuss it later,” he replied, the deep timber of his voice finally returning to its normal state.

“Yes, well…” Dumbledore interrupted, smiling at their banter “Severus, I know that you heard Hermione and I discussing the Polyjuice potion so I am certain that you have figured out that Lucius used someone else to impersonate her. Why would he do this and what was he hoping to gain?”

“Why didn’t he just wait until he could get his hands on me?” Hermione asked.

“You were surrounded by Aurors for most of the past week,” the Headmaster reminded her. “The chance of Lucius being able to get close enough to abduct you was slim.”

“However, he would have known that you were away from Hogwarts and obviously used that to his advantage. He figured, correctly, that viewing the scene in the pensieve would be more than enough to send me over the edge and make me take action. Although, I think he probably counted on my Apparating to Malfoy Manor with the intent of killing him rather than attempting to take my own life.”

“So it was a trap,” Hermione said flatly. “He thought you would go see him and then he would deliver you to Voldemort.”

“Most likely,” the Potions Master agreed impassively.

“I want to see it,” Hermione said suddenly, gazing pointedly at the pensieve.

“What?” the shocked voices of both Albus and Severus rang out in unison.

“The pensieve,” she elaborated. “I want to see it.”

“Hermione, no. There are things in there that you cannot, should not, see” Snape told her quietly.

“Severus, some woman died as a result of all of this and this attack was intended to bring about your downfall. You tried to commit suicide over this for Merlin’s sake! I need to understand what he is capable of. Don’t you see? I need to understand what was so terrible that it made you resort to the poison. I need to know what hurt you so badly that you thought ending your life was an acceptable solution. I need to know that it won’t happen again and the only way that I am going to even begin to understand and accept this situation is to see what Lucius Malfoy did for myself,” she implored, eyeing both men with a grim but determined look.

“No,” Severus told her, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive posture. “I will not allow it.”

“That is not your decision to make!” she argued, standing up and pointing her finger directly at his chest in a subconscious effort to reinforce her point.

The Headmaster had been silently sitting by watching the exchange between his two friends and colleagues. He knew that his friend was trying to protect her from the horrors that Lucius Malfoy had enacted. Merlin knew that he wished he hadn’t had to view the contents of the pensieve himself because it would take him a very long time to eradicate the memories he witnessed: if indeed he ever could. He also knew that Hermione was not about to back down and that this argument, if left unfinished, would fester between them. Lastly, he realized that she needed closure. It was obvious she loved the Potions Master, but nearly having lost him so soon after losing her father would have left her feeling abandoned. After all, in her young mind, Severus had a choice. He had chosen to leave her and knowing that he thought she was already dead and lost to him would not, in the end, be enough in her current fragile state of mind.

“Let her see it, Severus,” the older Wizard said quietly.

“Albus, have you have finally lost what little was left of your mental faculties? It is obvious that you’ve seen what is in that… thing,” he exclaimed, angrily pointing to the pensieve. “How can you even think of putting her through that?”

“She is right, Severus. She needs to understand. She needs to know what we’re up against. She needs to know what you’re up against,” he replied solemnly.

“I don’t like this,” he seethed, “but it seems that I am outnumbered and outvoted here. Hermione, please, I beg you to reconsider your decision. It would be bad enough to see anyone go through what Lucius put that woman through, but to see it happen to someone that is your mirror image…”

“I need to do this, Severus, and I will be alright,” she said walking up and peering anxiously into the pensieve.

“If you insist on going through with this foolhardy stunt then I will go with you,” he decided, coming to stand behind her.

“No,” she replied adamantly. “I just got you back and I’ll not have any repeat performances of what happened earlier this evening. I will be alright.”

Snape turned to Albus in a gesture that screamed for a supportive voice, but the Headmaster merely shook his head. “Let her go, Severus. She will need your support once she’s finished with the pensieve.”

Giving Snape a quick kiss on the cheek in a gesture of reassurance, Hermione turned to the pensieve and dipped her wand into the silvery substance…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


TBC

Author’s Note: Now do you all honestly think that I would really let Lucius win in such a horrendous manner? LOL! Hope you all liked the chapter; we still have quite a way to go with this story.

~Jules