The Ties that Lead to Trust

Chapter 21~ Discomfort and Deception

Hermione did not sleep well that night. Several times she woke up with her heart racing, a terrible scenario repeating itself in her head over and over. The thought of her parents meeting Severus and learning six years worth of truth in less than twelve hours was making her extremely nervous. At some point in time during the night, Severus woke as well, mumbling that she was dreaming so loud he could hear her. In an attempt to sooth her ruffled feathers, he carried her off to the bathroom and drew a hot bubble bath. After a long soak and massage, she felt limp as overcooked noodles and was able to sleep the rest of the night. She woke up early though, and couldn’t sit still. Dressed in her new satin nightgown and fuzzy bathrobe she wandered out to the main room. Crookshanks was dozing peacefully under the tree and didn’t notice her. Moving from the dining room to the sitting room sofa to the rug in front of the fireplace, Hermione found she couldn’t get comfortable anywhere.

While sitting by the fire, Severus came in and eyed her sleepily. “I definitely prefer those bedclothes over the others. You didn’t model them properly for me though. Come here.”

She stood and padded across the room until she stood close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. “I’m sorry. I really do like it. I’m just distracted.”

Taking her hand, he twirled her around to enjoy the garment from all angles. The garment was sleeveless with broad shoulders and a low V neck and the loose fabric rippled around her knees as she turned. When she faced him again, he kissed her cheek and pulled her close. Running his fingers along the smooth fabric covering her back and down the soft skin of her arms, he nipped gently at her neck. The muscles beneath his lips were tense, though she shivered in pleasure when his tongue traced the rim of her ear and he drew her earlobe into his mouth. Pulling away slightly, he watched several conflicting emotions play across her face and lowered his lips to hers, hoping to bring comfort and express his support to her through affectionate caresses.

After several minutes of gently stroking her back, he commented, “You aren’t just distracted, Hermione. You are climbing the walls. You aren’t walking into an exam, these are your parents.”

“How can you not be nervous?” she asked, exasperated with his calm manner.

He held on a little tighter. “Well to start, neither of your parents are able to hit me with nasty curses. Secondly, from what you have told me they are nice and reasonable people who love you. Finally, I would not have made a good spy for the Order had I not learned long ago how to control my nerves in the worst of situations, which this is not.”

She shook her head against his chest. “If things go poorly, you may be quite stuck with me.”

“There are worse fates I’m sure,” he said sarcastically.

“Did you find any suitable potions last night?” she enquired.

He nodded. “There are a couple which should work, but you do know this is on the shady side of legal.”

She looked up. “I can’t do nothing for her. She’s my grandmother.”

“I know. We will have a better idea of what we can do after we see her. Now let’s have some breakfast so we will be ready to go when the time comes.”

Hermione found it difficult to eat anything, but forced herself to, knowing it would help her relax. After eating, she critiqued Severus’ limited to non-existent muggle apparel. She felt satisfied enough with the black slacks and jumper, though they did make him look like he were about to attend a funeral. Each tossed a spare pair of robes and pyjamas in her bag and were ready to go. Grabbing their cloaks on the way out, Hermione bid farewell to Crookshanks and they began their walk up to the Headmaster’s office.

Dumbledore was jovial as usual as he opened the floo for them. It was decided that Severus would wait a few minutes for Hermione to talk with her parents briefly before he arrived. Casting one last nervous glance back, she stepped into the fireplace and disappeared.

She shut her eyes to prevent the dizziness that had been building since the previous evening from overwhelming her. With a jerk and a lurch she stopped at her grate and staggered out into the livingroom. Her mother was sitting on the couch waiting for her. “Oh Hermione, I’m so glad you could manage to come home, even if only for a couple days. Is your friend still coming?”

Hermione felt her knees buckle and sat down abruptly beside her mother. “Ah... yes he is. I just thought it would be best to come ahead. He should be here in a few minutes.”

“I am glad. I do like your friends and I see them so rarely. Your father tells me this friend of yours is something special. Have we heard anything about him before?” her mother asked eagerly.

Hermione was a bit surprised by her mother’s mood. She had expected tears and worry, but was met with girl talk. “Well, yes... I expect I’ve mentioned him a few times. So tell me, how are you doing? Is Grandma alright?”

Her mother was not to be put off by the change of subject. “I’m fine and I know your father told you Grandma was as well. I was just a bit tired when you called yesterday. Now stop changing the subject. This boy must be pretty special if he wants to come with you to visit family in the hospital. Who is he?”

“Um... Well you see... I’m not sure how to say... Er... He’s-” there was a flash of green in the fireplace and a man in black stepped into the room, “- Severus Snape.”

For a long moment everyone in the room stared at each other. Breaking the stillness, Severus conjured a brush and dusted himself off and handed it to Hermione who was still covered in soot from travelling. He straightened himself and extended a hand. “Mrs Granger, pleased to meet you. I am Severus Snape.”

Emily Granger glanced sideways at the nervous look on her daughter’s face and stood to take his hand. A moment of confusion followed quickly by realization crossing the woman’s face as she looked at the man. It was obvious she had been expecting a teenage boy, not a man close to her own age. Mrs Granger gave a weak attempt at a smile and said, “I believe my daughter has mentioned you before. I am glad to meet you.”

Just when Hermione began cursing herself for her oath of honesty, her father entered the room. He was visibly startled to see a man in black shaking hands with his wife and looked over at his daughter. She hazarded a glance over at her father and he forced a smile. “There you are ‘My own.’ Is this your friend?”

Before she could answer, Severus introduced himself and shook hands with her father. Mr Granger offered a chair and they all sat. Hermione took a deep breath before beginning. “Mom, Dad, I know you must have a lot of questions, and I promise to answer them, but could we wait until after visiting the hospital?”

Her parents exchanged one of those looks couples who had been married for a long time used to convey an entire conversation. There was a barely perceptible nod and her father said, “Of course. You must be anxious to see Grandma and the hospital is a bit of a ways away. We should arrive just in time for visiting hours if we leave now. Let’s get in the car.”

On their way out the door, Severus gave the automobile a hard look. Hermione caught it and asked quietly, “Haven’t you been in one before?”

“Unlike some, I find flying a satisfactory means of transportation,” he told her in a slightly sarcastic voice.

Her parents must have heard his comment and Mr Granger opened the front door gesturing, “Why don’t you sit in the front, Severus. I expect you will find it more comfortable with your height.”

He nodded and lowered himself into the passenger’s side while Hermione climbed into the back seat with her mother. It was a twenty minute drive to the hospital and it looked like it was going to be a long ride.
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While in the car, Hermione tried to ignore the conversation around her and focus on the other cars and houses outside her window. Her dad was trying to make conversation with Severus, but not succeeding too well. One had never heard of football and the other only a passing mention of Quidditch. Safe conversation topics seemed in short supply. Her mum wasn’t saying much, but kept trying to catch her daughter’s eye and glean some information. In an attempt to steer the conversation away from Severus altogether Hermione asked her father, “How has work been?”

She felt like kicking herself at that moment. What surer way to have them ask then and there about Severus’ work and force him to say aloud that he was her professor. But her dad smiled kindly. “Oh the usual. Lots of on call work in the holidays. I had to do some tricky work on a young man who knocked a bunch of teeth out playing rugby last week. A right mess when he came in, but the surgery went well.”

“You’re a doctor?” Severus asked with exceeding politeness.

“A dentist. My wife and I work with teeth, oral surgery and the like. I don’t think you magic folk have those.” he explained.

Hermione had informed Severus of this some time ago, but he tried valiantly to keep up the conversation. “No, generally healers deal with the entire body. There are specialists, though. Those that deal with diseases, transfiguration accidents or toxins. A different sort of specialization. I often work on the development end with medicinal potions and antidotes.”

“A chemist?” Mrs Granger asked.

“Sort of mum. Medicinal potions are a lot like pharmaceuticals in some ways, but often they take the place of natural body functions. Harry accidentally lost all the bones in his arm once, but there is a potion that will regrow them even though it isn’t normal for a body to replace its bones.” Hermione put in.

“That was hardly an accident on Mr Potter’s part. That fool Lockhart couldn’t repair a broken door hinge let alone someone’s arm,” Snape said bitterly.

Mrs Granger’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Wasn’t Mr Lockhart that man we met in the book shop? He wrote all those books, quite the celebrity.”

“Was a celebrity. He has severe memory loss after something went wrong while trying to remove the memories of people who found out he was a fraud. He’s where he belongs now, in the closed ward at St. Mungo’s,” Hermione said equally bitter.

Hermione’s dad had obviously recognized the name and started to ask, “Wasn’t he your pro... er...”

Completely unfazed by the question and its further implications Severus answered. “Gilderoy Lockhart was a professor at Hogwarts several years ago, but he was still a fraud, taking credit for other people’s accomplishments. Just another in a long line of incompetent Defence against the Dark Arts teachers. The only one even passable was Lupin, much to my dismay.”

Hermione, who had been so tense, couldn’t contain a giggle at this admission, and soon she was laughing uncontrollably. “Just wait... wait until I tell Remus you said that... priceless...”

“Must you?” he said, clearly exasperated.

She held her breath for a moment, then blurted, “Yes.”

Severus sighed deeply and Mr Granger glanced back and caught his wife’s eye. Hermione saw this and cringed, for she knew what was coming.

“Aren’t you a teacher at Hogwarts?” her father asked the man beside him.

The car was silent for several minutes and the hospital came in sight up the street. As they pulled into the car park, Severus answered. “I teach Potions, as I have for the past sixteen years.”

The conversation ended naturally as they all exited the car and made their way to the main entrance. Hermione strode ahead, ignoring the fact that she didn’t know what room or even what floor her Grandmother was on. She just wanted away from the confining environment of the car. The awkward situation caused her to clench her teeth and ring her hands, and her jaw was sore now. Severus’ long legs allowed him to easily keep stride with her and he told her quietly, “They haven’t started shouting yet. It could be worse.”

“I’m not ready. I can’t do this,” she said on the verge of hyperventilating.

“How have you survived as a friend of Potter’s?” he tried to tease, but didn’t come off all that convincingly.

She snorted, “We don’t plan on those adventures, they just happen. It’s cold out. Let’s go inside.”

Severus’ nose flared when they entered the building and he smelled the sterile halls. When Hermione’s parents caught up with them, they led the way to the elevator and up to her Grandmother’s room. The white walls seemed abnormally bright and the dividing curtains around the beds in the room were a sickly looking green colour. Hermione had always wondered why such a colour would be used in a building where people were already feeling unwell. In a room set up for six people, there were only three others in the room when they came in. Her Grandmother’s bed was at the far end of the room, by the window where she was laying in bed reading a book. The old woman looked up and smiled when she saw her granddaughter. “Hermione dear, you came.”

“Of course I did Grandma, how are you feeling?” she asked, looking over her critically.

There was a scraping of chairs as Emily and Greg pulled a couple chairs from across the room over so they could all sit together. Severus was quickly drawing the curtain around the bed so that the rest of the room could not see them while keeping his wand hidden and casting a distraction charm. Grandma Brooks’ voice was scratchy and she sounded very tired. “Oh the doctors have been taking good care of me, but you can’t expect miracles from them at my age. I had a good knock on my head, which is a pain. I don’t remember a thing from the accident, but that’s likely best.”

Severus frowned at Hermione and she returned a concerned look before turning back to her grandmother. “Grandma, this is my friend, Severus. He knows a great deal about medicine.”

The woman gave a breathy chuckle, “Found yourself a doctor did you? He looks awfully serious.”

“Not a doctor, Grandma. He does research and development with new medicines. We brought something that should work better on the pain,” She said, blushing at the teasing. Even when she was in the worst of situations, her Grandmother could always find something to laugh about.

“I’m glad to meet you,” he said, taking the old woman’s warm, dry hands in his. “Your charts say you last had medication a few hours ago. Are you in any pain?”

She nodded. “Yes, well it starts to wear off after a couple hours. You can’t expect too much.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. “Would you like to try something new I’ve developed? It will likely make you sleep for about twenty minutes after you take it, and afterwards it relieves pain for about eight hours.”

“A miracle drug?” she asked. “I should probably check with the doctors.”

Severus’ voice was silky, smooth and very convincing. “They likely haven’t heard of this, since it is quite new. Tests have indicated no conflicting reactions with other medications and minimal side effects. In fact, it is highly beneficial for the sleep needed to promote healing. Since it is so recently developed, it isn’t on the market for hospitals yet and I know your granddaughter wants only the best for you. Will you try it?”

“Well you are convincing. I doubt it will make things any worse. Alright,” she agreed.

Severus took a cup of water from the bedside tray and put ten drops of blue liquid in it. Swirling the mixture with a straw, he handed it to her and she drank about half the glass. Soon her eyes drooped and she set the glass back on the tray before laying back on her bed. Hermione’s parents furrowed their brows as they watched this strange, severe man their daughter had brought home take over a doctor’s role. Mrs Granger asked, “Are you sure about this medication. I mean, she is just a normal woman, not like you, and the doctors here have their own treatment plan.”

Looking up from the tip of his wand where he was using an x-ray charm to examine the bones beneath he said, “I understand your concerns, but the potion I gave her has been tested on a number of Muggles with no ill effects. The accident your mother has suffered may not be so accidental, and I wish to rule out the possibility. The physical damage itself appears to be normal, but I am concerned about the memory loss.”

Hermione looked up from the other side of the bed. “You aren’t going to use Legilimancy are you? You didn’t ask if you could do that.”

“No, but she wouldn’t have understood if I tried to explain it to her either. Dumbledore agreed that it was an appropriate measure if I did indeed find anything suspicious,” he told her bluntly.

Mr Granger stood and gave him a hard look. “What exactly are you doing? I thought you were coming for moral support, not to play doctor.”

Hermione could sense a loud, angry argument in the works and she went to her father to try and calm him. With a hand on his shoulder she begged, “Not here, dad, please not now. I promise I’ll explain it all, but now is not the time or place.”

Holding his breath for a moment, Mr Granger let it out in a long blast and sat down again. “You’re right. A public hospital is not the place for a discussion of this nature. We will talk when we get home.”

“Go on then,” she told Severus, cringing at the thought of what would happen when they got home.

Holding his wand at the ready, Severus said quietly, “Legilimens”

His eyes were dark and focussed as he began testing Mrs Brooks’ mind. Hermione’s parents looked on in confusion, not knowing what it was he was doing. There was a tense silence in the room, as Hermione gripped the edge of her chair and focussed on the stony intensity of Severus’ face. She knew it was important, but felt conflicted about the method he was using. Helpless to shield her Grandma from mental probing into private memories not pertinent to the situation, even by chance, she clenched her jaw, watching and waiting.
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The mind was a fascinating thing, and had always intrigued him. Severus saw the pale, wrinkled face of the woman before him for only a few moments before he could see beyond it, into the shadowy mists of her mind. Close to the surface were the expected images of Hermione, her family and the various staff of the hospital. They were easy to identify and sift through since her physical pain tainted the memories in an almost visible manner. Deeper, beyond the immediate consciousness, were thought fragments and images of her everyday life: a home, a comfortable bed with a pastel coloured quilt and snatches of hands stitching it, a favourite cup for tea, a photo album with images of a child from bald headed baby to bushy haired hellion and pictures on the wall. He stopped here for a moment and noticed a younger version of Grandmother Brooks standing beside a chair with a severe looking man dressed in what appeared to be expensive clothing. Bending his own mind closer, he felt a sinking sensation as he entered a fuller memory.

There was a young woman, in her mid to late twenties, biting her lower lip and fidgeting in a well furnished living room. He wasn’t close to the memory and could not hear clearly what was being said when the young woman started speaking. After a moment, the severe man said something to her and she began crying. He wasn’t yelling and didn’t seem violent, only impassive and cold. So cold, Severus pushed the memory away with such force he nearly lost his mental connection. Pushing through to the surface memories again, he redirected himself towards what he was looking for. The shadows surrounding him felt tense and suspicious, and he probed further, hoping to catch a glimpse of a memory. A few images of the old woman glancing behind her shoulder nervously were all he could find before bumping into a wall. If he hadn’t come against it so solidly, he would have visually mistaken it for a void, but pressing towards it again he was unable to pass. The empty black wall did not feel old or well established, but new, clean, smooth and without features.

Trying again, Severus attempted another path towards the blocked memories through reverse chronological order of everything prior to his arrival in her mind. Very quickly, he found himself at the same barrier, unable to pass through even to the events immediately prior to the supposed accident. Nothing. No way in. Slowly wading back to the surface and shifting back into himself, he prepared to tell those who had been watching him what he had discovered.

Lowering his wand and looking up at the others, he said grimly, “I’m afraid her memory loss is not from a concussion. I believe her mind has been tampered with.”
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