The Ties that Lead to Trust

Chapter 34~ Cleansing The Soul

Quickly rifling through one of the drawers of a cabinet in his private rooms, Severus pulled out a small pile of envelopes and flipped through them until he found what he was searching for. Inside the plain, white envelope was a letter from Emily Granger written in her clear, precise script. Over the past six months he had received several letters and learned a great deal about his mother-in-law and the Granger household. Initially he was uncomfortable with the personal nature of her missives and startled by the appropriateness of their timing. The first letter had arrived shortly after the new year when he and Hermione weren’t speaking. Flipping open that first letter, he scanned through it quickly until he found the information he was looking for.

We decided that too much togetherness wasn’t necessarily a good thing so we don’t always work in the clinic together. The decision has allowed me to take Fridays off and Greg can sleep in on Mondays, barring emergencies of course. All in all it has worked well for us. I don’t mean to natter at you or send along unsolicited advice, but I know my daughter is a very private character and we have always allowed her a fair bit of space.

The letter continued, but Severus had what he needed. It wasn’t yet half two and he could be reasonably sure to find Emily Granger alone if he were to floo her home. Plucking out a second letter, he checked it to be certain it was the one he wanted then returned the rest of the correspondence to its drawer in the cabinet. Without a moments hesitation, he pocketed his wand and returned to the Headmaster’s office to use the Floo Network.

Emily Granger appeared visibly startled when a vision in black stumbled out of her living room fireplace. Staggering a little, Severus righted himself and smoothed his robes down with his hands before greeting the startled woman. “Mrs Granger, I must apologize for arriving unannounced.”

She brushed off his apology with a gesture of her hand. “No matter, Severus, and please do call me Emily. What brings you here?”

“A rather urgent and unpleasant matter, I’m afraid,” he said, his facial expression impassive as ever but his eyes holding the barest hint of sadness.

Emily’s eyebrows shot up as she gestured to a chair. “What is it? Has something happened?”

“Due to the end of exams, there was a Hogsmeade visit scheduled today. While in town, Hermione was attacked by young Draco Malfoy,” Severus said in a low voice.

“Oh no! Is she alright?”

He bowed his head in response. “She has been treated for extensive injuries. However that is the least of my worries just now,” he pulled the letter he had taken from his rooms out of his pocket and looked at it in his hands. “I regret to say that I was not a chaperone in the village today and was not there to help her. She wasn’t only physically assaulted. She was also raped.”

Mrs Granger drew in a sharp breath and looked more closely at the paper in his hands, recognizing it for the first time. “Shall I come see her tonight then?”

“Not tonight, I don’t think. I doubt she will appreciate visitors of any kind, regardless of who they are. Tomorrow is the leaving feast and the remainder of the students will be taking the train the following morning. It would probably be simplest if you came up on Sunday once the castle is quiet,” Severus suggested.

“Perhaps. I truly doubt she will wish to leave the school then either. I can arrange something with Greg and have him cover my Monday appointments,” Emily nodded in agreement.

“It might be prudent not to mention the reason for your visit... Hermione’s very...”

Emily smiled without humour and gestured to the letter. “I know very well she has no desire to let her father know and I presume you have come to see me without informing her. Leave Greg up to me. I’ll find something to tell him. What I will need is some form of transportation up to the school. I don’t really have an idea of where it is... something about it not being on maps...”

“I will have someone pick you up on Sunday morning,” Severus promised her.

They talked a short while longer, cautiously avoiding the details about the attack and awkwardly trying to be polite. Their letters had been a comfortable means of communication, but it hadn’t quite translated into easy face to face discussion. He attributed this, in part at least, to the looming shadow of his bad news. When the clock chimed the hour, Severus stood. “There is much to be said, but it must wait for another time. I do not wish to leave the impression that my only desire to visit you is because of today’s events, but to be frank, it’s all I’m concerned about at the moment. I must return to the castle. Most of the school and legal matters have been dealt with and Draco Malfoy has been taken into custody. I have also forwarded the formal papers to charge Lucius with a number of crimes including the attack on your mother. However, even with all the upheaval today has brought, I must also attend to matters with the rest of my students.”

Emily Granger rose as well and took his hand. “I understand. I am greatly upset by your news, but you have other obligations. I will see you on Sunday. Please don’t let Hermione be alone. Stay with her if she’ll let you.”

With a brief nod of his head, he turned and departed back through the fireplace.
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Cautiously, Severus opened the door at the top of the stairs leading to the Head Girl’s rooms, glancing about to see if Hermione was in the main room. As anticipated, the sitting area was empty and he had few doubts in his mind that she was still in her bedroom, but he didn’t want to startle her. It was disturbingly quiet in the room and the click of the door catching verily echoed in the silent space. He wondered briefly if she were asleep and considered leaving, but knew he would find no peace until he saw her at the very least. He had asked Professor Sinestra if she would cover his house duties for the evening, and was glad to have one less thing to worry about.

The sitting room was warm and welcoming, but he had never spent any amount of time here. His observations agreed with Emily Granger’s comments, Hermione was very private and he had avoided this space for the most part. Their quarrel about the rooms in January had more than proven to him her need for personal space. He also noticed now that there were no paintings with people in them in here either. Minerva’s landscapes graced her walls as well as a new painting of waves crashing against a rocky shoreline that hung above the wall by her desk. The rhythmic crash and sway of the water was so mesmerizing that he nearly overlooked the small frames on the desk itself. In addition to the absence of people in portraits, there were very few photographs with people either. He had noticed the picture of himself on her mantle some months ago, but the pictures on her desk seemed recently added.

In the photo, he and Hermione had their wands pointed at each other and were enveloped by a bright light before stepping apart slightly and looking at each other in surprise. Their wedding photo. He hadn’t seen this image when he flipped through the photos she had given him. It seemed odd to him that he hadn’t seen it before. That she hadn’t displayed it until now. Or perhaps she had, but put it away any time he came to visit.

Looking at the image, he felt almost as if he were intruding on an intimate moment, even if it was one of his own. His photo self glanced towards him with a raised eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitched. Nothing in his life had ever come easy or been simple, but it could have been much worse. Without another glance back at the photograph, he turned away from the desk and moved towards the closed bedroom door.
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Hermione was miserable. She had slept briefly in the afternoon, too overwrought to stay awake any longer, but now as the light faded outside her window, she felt very alone and very terrified. In her mind, she knew it was irrational to be sitting with her back against the far wall of her secure bedroom with her wand clutched tightly in her hand, but a more impulse based part of her insisted she should be alert and ready to defend herself from a potential threat.

She heard the sound of a door opening and shutting in the main room and gripped her wand tighter. Her knuckles were white and her hand trembling as she stared at the door, waiting for the intruder. There was a soft knock at her bedroom door then it cracked open to reveal Severus’ face. This, however, didn’t register until after she sent a stunning spell at the figure in the doorway.

As it had before, the spell seemed to slide around Severus like water off a duck’s back and he hesitated at the doorway. Her eyes were wide and she was trembling like a hunted animal. The curious expression he had worn shifted from surprise to sadness and he moved slowly towards her. She watched his movements carefully and continued to shake. Her hands twitched and the wand clattered to the floor. He bent over, picked up the slender wand and set it on the night table then extended his hand.

Her lips quivered and she felt tears rising again as she allowed him to help her to her feet. Hermione let out a small groan from the stiffness in her joints that made her feel like an old lady. Severus noticed this and sat her on the bed gently. “What did Poppy give you for the pain?”

Her voice was low and broken, “Several things, but she said the torn ligaments would hurt as they healed. There isn’t much for it.”

He nodded and frowned when she turned away from him. Hermione hugged her arms about herself and glanced around the room, avoiding his gaze. She could feel the blisters of the Adulterous charm and was ashamed and embarrassed. He noticed her retreating into herself and tried to bring her to lean against him. When she resisted, he said softly, “Look at me.”

She kept her head bowed and turned towards him. Severus put his hand under her chin as if to lift it when she muttered. “Don’t.”

“I don’t know how you are feeling right now, Hermione, but I have some idea. You have nothing to be ashamed of. It was not your fault.” He told her gently and raised her chin to look in her eyes.

They were glistening with moisture. “How did you... I should never have-”

He covered her lips with a finger to silence them. “It was not your fault. Berating yourself will not undo things.”

“But my face,” she forced herself away and looked at the floor, “Does it matter where the fault is? Everyone will reach their own conclusions when they look at me.”

“Have you looked in the mirror? Have you seen what it says?” He questioned.

She shook her head and he guided her into the bathroom. The full length mirror gasped, but before it could say anything, Severus silenced it with his wand. Hermione’s eyes went wide when she saw the marks and moved closer to inspect her face. Instead of the burning red boils formed in an ‘A’, there were small, green marks spelling the word ‘soiled’ across her face. She had only noticed the stinging and hadn’t thought about their form. Curiously she raised a finger and brushed against one. She pulled it away quickly, sucking in a sharp breath. They hurt much more when she touched them. To one side she heard water running and noticed Severus was no longer reflected behind her. A cool, moist cloth brushed against her arm and she turned to encounter a white cloth moving towards her face.

Instead of the burning pain she had anticipated when the rough terrycloth contacted her blisters, the cool dampness soothed her. Carefully he patted her cheeks and wiped gently at the puffy redness around her eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before opening her eyes.

Severus was watching her closely and one corner of his mouth was turned up, his eyes sad. “I believe you would feel much better if you cleaned up a bit.”

Not giving her time to respond, he moved around her and began drawing water for a bath. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small bottle with blue liquid in it. He removed the stopper and emptied the contents into the running water. The air in the room began to steam quickly and the pungent, but pleasant, odour of the bath oil filled the room. The bath filled quickly and Severus turned off the taps before coming back to where she stood unmoving. His arms came around her and held her in a firm but gentle hug. When he pulled back, he saw a wary expression on her face. “I will leave you if you wish it, but I would like to wash you. Will you let me?”

“Without my clothes?” She asked nervously, clutching at the ill fitting robe hanging about her body.

“However you wish.” He said simply and moved towards the large bathtub.

He selected several towels from the shelf on the wall and set them on a bench before bending over to remove his shoes. She watched him as he removed, first the left shoe, then the right, followed by his socks and the watch at his wrist. She turned away when she saw him grab the hem of his robe to pull over his head. Not looking at him, nor in the mirror, she waited for the sound of water splashing before turning back to look at him. Her feet were bare on the cool tile and the only thing between her and complete nudity was the school robe she was wearing.

When she didn’t move to remove the garment or approach the tub he beaconed her to him. “Come and sit at the edge.”

Uncertain, she did as instructed and sat on the floor with her feet dangling into the sunken tub. The water was warm and soothing on her feet and she closed her eyes. A hand brushed against one of her feet and she started. His voice was calming and seemed to fill the room along with the steam. “I’m going to wash your feet, Hermione. Let me know if you are uncomfortable.”

She nodded wordlessly and felt the uneven surface of a wild sponge against the sole of her right foot. Severus carefully soaped and rinsed her feet before deeply massaging them. Closing her eyes, Hermione felt some of the earlier panic lessen. After a thorough massage, he asked, “May I wash your knees?”

Hermione nodded again and tried not to stiffen when he raised the robe to just above her knees. Still sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she kept her eyes open and watched as he slowly and methodically soaped and rinsed from ankle to knee. Instead of continuing the massage, he held a heated cloth to her sore knees and allowed the heat to permeate the sore tissues there. When he had finished, he asked again, “May I wash your back?”

For a moment she sat stock still, considering his request. The look of tender concern he was giving her nearly broke her heart, even tempered with the severe set of his features. At that moment, she only wanted to burrow into his arms and be held. She nodded and eased herself into a standing position, first on the underwater seating ledge, then stepping down so the water was to her waist. Turning her back, she eased the sodden, black fabric up her body and twitched involuntarily when he assisted her. She could tell he was standing close, but carefully not close enough for his body to brush against hers. “It’s alright. I will only touch what you say I can.”

She nodded, her back still turned and felt a delightful trickle of hot water running down her back from where he had wrung the sponge at the nape of her neck. He repeated this action several times before washing her back more thoroughly then rubbing the muscles deeply with his thumbs. She sighed and moaned when his fingers reached tense spots and eased them into relaxation. Despite herself, she was beginning to feel somewhat human again. His hands slowed their ministrations and rested on her shoulders. “Does your shoulder still hurt?”

She shook her head slowly, “No. It was the easiest thing to heal.”

Soft lips brushed at the base of her neck and she shivered. He slowly moved his hands down her arms until they were wrapped around hers in a cautious embrace. “And the soul is the hardest to heal. It will take a long time.”

A single tear spilled over the lid of her eye and trickled slowly down her face, though it did not sting as it had before. She sniffed softly and nodded. “I don’t know if it ever will.”

“You are a strong person. You may not feel like it now, but you will feel it again someday. Until then, you can lean as hard as you need to.” His quiet voice assured her.

“I don’t know how.”

“Then we will learn as we go.”

“I’m scared.”

He squeezed her a bit tighter. “I know, but I hope that someday you won’t be.”

They stood quietly in the hot water for a time before he asked in a low voice, “May I wash you, Hermione? Will you let me clean your body?”

She nodded and turned around to face him. Severus glanced at the dark bruise that coloured her shoulder, but knew it didn’t pain her, at least physically. He traced the discolouration with his long fingers and ran a digit across the red mark he had put on her himself. It wasn’t usual for him to leave marks behind and he felt a twinge of guilt for it when seen beside the large bruise. Groping for the sponge, he held it above her shoulder and squeezed the water over it, letting the little rivulets of hot liquid run down her front and drip back into the bathwater. Hermione drew in a deep breath through her nose and automatically closed her eyes.

Lathering his hands with soap, Severus gingerly spread the foam across her shoulders and down her arms. He then spread soap bubbles over the bruises on her ribs and belly. With some trepidation, his hands moved up to lather her breasts. He nearly pulled away when she squeaked at the contact, but continued to thoroughly cover her upper body with the foamy soap. He then took the sponge once more and ran water down her, watching the soap wash away in tiny rivers. Her eyes were open now, watching intently as he rinsed her body.

When he had finished, he eased her around and guided her to lay back in the water. Her short locks fanned out around her before he ran his fingers through them and slicked them down to her head. When Hermione rose from the water, she noted the look of puzzlement Severus was giving the row of bottles on the far edge of the tub and gestured to a bottle of shampoo. He seemed relieved and began rubbing a dollop of the contents into her hair. She was surprised at how natural his movements were as he massaged the product to her roots, rinsed and did the same with the conditioner she indicated. Floating in the water, she still felt the anguish of the earlier pain, but it seemed a bit muted, or perhaps easier to bear after he had so carefully washed her.

Once he finished her hair, he found the soap once more and the face cloth. He gave her a sad look, then bent to kiss her lips softly. She was slightly startled, however the gesture did not feel demanding or particularly unsettling. It was a gentle, platonic kiss. When he pulled away, soapy fingers ran across her forehead, down the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks. She felt a small sting, which was more tingly than painful, but not the burning sensation of earlier that day. Severus was very careful as he washed away the last of the soap from her sensitive skin. She watched, curious as he fumbled with the plug to the bathtub and let the water begin to drain away.

Pulling her into his arms, Severus watched the water swirl and run down the pipes. When the last drops had disappeared below the floor, he spoke. “Feel better?”

She shivered a bit in the cooling air of the bathroom. “Yes, a bit.”

“It doesn’t wash it all away, but perhaps it is a start.” He said sadly.

Hermione nodded. “Perhaps.”

He led her out of the empty tub and wrapped them both in the fluffy towels on the bench. Though she resisted slightly, Severus guided her back over to the mirror. The steam was beginning to lift, allowing her to see her rosy skin flushed from the hot water. She also saw her face. The green marks were still there, but not swollen and painful as they had been before. Instead they looked more like freckles or odd birthmarks. She looked at him with a questioning expression. The very corners of his mouth softened and turned up slightly. “It may take more time to rid the marks completely, but I hope they do not hurt any longer.”

She reached up her hand and very hesitantly touched one, then pressed it a little harder. Hermione smiled at him weakly, “Thank you.”

“There is no need.” He leaned down and brushed his lips on her forehead. He gestured to her sink and told her, “I think it has been a very long day. Why don’t you finish getting ready for bed.”

She nodded and watched Severus leave the room, still clad in only a towel. She shuddered violently at the thought and felt a horrible knot in her stomach. Her mind was racing, ‘He wasn’t going to... was he?’

Trying to calm herself with her evening rituals, she meticulously brushed and flossed her teeth and combed her wet hair. She rubbed it vigorously with a towel to remove most of the water and was glad that its short length dried quickly. A few minutes later, Severus knocked briefly and came back into the room, now wearing his green check pyjamas and carrying something red. Her brow furrowed, but he forestalled her question. “I don’t know where you keep your pyjamas so I brought these up for you.”

Hermione was slightly surprised, but took the garment appreciatively. He nodded to her and withdrew from the room, allowing her to change in privacy. The soft fabric still smelled new and clean. A small part of her mind could even be the slightest bit amused that she was putting her Christmas pyjamas on for the first time in June. With one more look in the mirror, she carefully appraised the damage to her face. The marks didn’t hurt anymore and seemed to be fading. She wondered why, trying hard to recall what she had been told about the Adulterous charm. Severus had mentioned that the effects would be less if she were taken by force, but he hadn’t said how much it would take to remove them completely. Allowing him to wash her seemed not so much an act of fidelity as a gesture of trust, but it appeared to have at least eased the pain of the blisters, even reduced the swelling. Her mind reeled as a forbidding idea entered it again. Did she need to re-consummate her marriage to complete negate the effect of the charm? That was the implication. It hadn’t seemed such a horrific prospect even when she initially had asked, but now...

Her breathing was unsteady and her whole body shaking when she finally entered her bedroom. Severus was sitting on the edge of the bed, frowning at a sheaf of papers in his hand. He looked up when he heard the door close and noticed her distraught expression. She moved shakily to the bed and sat down, her fingers wringing and twitching. He moved to her and stilled them with his own hands and looked into her eyes. “I am only here to see you safely to bed. There is more than enough to worry and be upset about, but it can wait until tomorrow. You need rest.”

Severus drew back the sheets and guided her under them. She pulled them close to her and took a steadying breath. They too smelled fresh and clean. She looked up at him. “You changed the sheets?”

He nodded. “Goodnight Hermione.”

He picked up his papers, turned and walked out of the room and Hermione stared at his retreating figure. When he closed the door, she felt again the fear of being alone and called out, “Wait!”

The door opened again and Severus’ concerned face returned. “Is there something you need?”

“I don’t want to be alone.” She blurted.

His eyebrows raised and he came back into the room and closed the door. “I can stay if you like. I had only thought you would appreciate some privacy.”

She shook her head. “I do, but... I’m scared... I.. I don’t know what I want. Part of me wants to lock the door and not let anyone in, but part of me knows that it doesn’t matter what I do, he will still get in... I don’t want to be afraid.”

“I understand. Wards and barriers can be broken, usually by the people who frighten us most.” He said, taking out his wand and mumbling several incantations at the doorway. “However, I have years of practice at such things and I promise you are safe in here. I have not locked you in, but locked others out. I expect it would take Albus several hours to break through such a ward and we would be well aware of it by then. Does that help?”

Hermione nodded. “A bit. Are you going to stay?”

“If you wish. Shall I conjure another bed?” He asked delicately.

Her pulse raced, but she felt herself shaking her head. “I... I trust you. I just want to feel safe.”

Severus slowly moved to the bed and slipped under the sheets. The light outside had faded, and the room was warmly lit with candles. “Do you want to leave the lights on?”

“A couple. The ones by the door.” She told him and found her own wand to extinguish the rest.

For a long time they were silent, laying stiffly in the bed together. Hermione realized then that though they had shared a bed increasingly frequently over the past six months, he had never slept in her rooms. He had visited on occasion, but never slept there. Laying awake in the darkened room, she was very aware of him beside her as her mind played the events of the day over and over. She felt the anger and painful emotions well up inside her again and couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears that began cascading down her face. She could see with crystal clarity the expression on Draco’s face when he tore her robes apart. She felt the sickening helplessness of watching him ready himself, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop him. She felt broken, violated and completely helpless.

She wasn’t aware of having moved, but as the new wave of racking sobs began to subside she felt strong arms holding her. She had curled against him and he was stroking her back in a soothing manner while she soaked the front of his pyjamas with her tears. He was mumbling quiet endearments into her hair, allowing her to cry until she was spent. When her tears had ebbed, he told her gently, “I would give you dreamless sleep potion if I thought it would help, but it only delays the memories and the tears.”

She nodded against his chest. “I know.”

“I love you.” He whispered.

Hermione clutched him tighter and felt him squeeze back. His arms were strong and comforting and she felt secure in them. Slowly the panic loosened its hold on her and she felt herself relax. She was physically and emotionally fatigued and gradually she eased into slumber.
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