Into The Light

Author\'s notes: Sorry for the delay, have been all over the place, but finally in a position to post. Have set up a Livejournal account: http://www.livejournal.com'sb_hp_fanfic which gets updated before anywhere else for those interested.

This chapter was beta-ed by the Amazing! Alexandria!


“M-master?” she stuttered, and Severus felt his stomach drop out the bottom of his shoes.

He pinned her with an appalled look, while everyone else in the room was glaring at him with an accusation in their eyes.

“No, foolish child, I am NOT your master. Now get back into bed.” At his words, her face crumbled, and she resumed her crouched position, soft sobs once again permeating the stunned silence.

“You BASTARD!” screamed Potter suddenly.

Severus sneered at him.

“Don’t be such a fool,” The words could have frozen lava. “How on earth could I be the one that did this to-” He broke off, as Potter, heedless of Severus’ words, threw himself at him.

One fist – one of a size he hadn’t noticed before in fact, when did they get so huge? – connected firmly with his right cheekbone, and a second was close behind it, delivering a glancing blow to his nose that caused it to spurt blood before the rush that was The-Raging-Idiot-That-Unfortunately-Kept-Surviving was suddenly swept away by a wave of Dumbledore’s hand.

“Harry,” said the Headmaster, in tones that brooked no argument whatsoever, as he addressed the youth he currently had suspended upside down, mid air, in the middle of the infirmary – the Muggles were goggling. “That is quite enough. I will set you down now, but only if you promise not to attack Professor Snape again, and that you will retreat somewhere to cool down if either one of us deems that you need it.”

“I believe Potter could indeed benefit from a lifetime or two in the Antarctic, Headmaster,” Severus couldn’t help volunteering.

“I was referring to either Mr Potter or myself, Severus.” The Headmaster’s tone had not warmed an iota, and Severus decided now would be a wise time to sit on his tongue.

“Fine.” Potter sounded still mildly angry, but Severus suspected it would have been worse had he not just heard his most hated teacher publicly rebuked in front of him. Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgment, and returned him to the floor right-way-up, as Severus took a bandage offered by Poppy and squeezed his nose with it. A careful examination with his fingers proved it was not broken, and he waved his wand discreetly to clean up the mess on his face and robes.

Potter had sat himself on a far bed, and was staring moodily at the girl again, who had stopped both her sobs and her rocking to stare at the events in front of her with curious eyes. When she saw him examining her, she shivered and looked down at the floor.

“Miss Granger?” said Dumbledore quietly, stepping forward slowly. The girl started, then hid her face against her knees and started shaking violently, muffled crying starting up again. Almost in harmony, the muggle woman started crying as well – Severus suppressed an urge to tell her to shut up.

“Hermione?” Dumbledore took another step forward, and the shaking grew, her cries getting louder as she huddled closer into the walls like she wished to disappear into them. Dumbledore sighed, stepped back and looked at Severus imploringly. Severus stared back, nonplussed. Dumbledore made a gesture with his hand, and Severus shook his head in confusion. With a great sigh, Dumbledore caught his eye, and an image of himself approaching and talking to the girl entered his head. He returned it with one of the Headmaster in a muggle straight-jacket, which managed to earn him a look of annoyance and warning.

Gritting his teeth, Severus took two steps towards the girl. “Miss Granger,” he said hesitantly. The effect was instantaneous. She stopped shaking and looked at him with bright eyes. Severus paused, having no idea what to say next. “I, I believe I told you to return to your bed, did I not?”

Immediately, the girl got to her feet – unsteadily, he noted, very unsteadily – and made her way over to her bed, slowing, and watching her parents with suspicious eyes as she got closer and closer to them. Eventually, at a distance of maybe four feet away from them, she was moving so slowly she had stopped, and her knees were shaking badly. She looked between her parents and Severus, obviously fearful and anxious, until Poppy stepped forward to take both the muggles by the elbow and gently draw them back. At this, the girl then started forward again, barely reaching her destination before she collapsed onto it. Poppy gave a worried mutter and moved forward, obviously intending to examine or help, but at her approach, the girl gave a squeak and fell off the opposite side, scooting away from her.

“Poppy,” said Albus, waving her away. The mediwitch backed off, and the girl crawled back onto the bed, turning her head as if trying to keep tabs on all of the room’s occupants at once.

“Well at least she remembers her name, even if it has to come from him,” said Potter quietly from his corner.

“I’m not sure she does,” muttered Albus. “Severus, would you please call Miss Granger, but by the wrong name?”

“Desdemona,” said Snape immediately, his reading of Shakespeare last night coming back immediately. The girl’s head snapped up, attention focused on Severus once more. It took a great deal of Severus’ willpower not to swear loudly. Behind him, Potter groaned.

“So, not even that then?” He asked, sounding defeated.

“It would appear not.” Albus sounded grave. “Severus, would you issue instructions to Miss Granger to remain where she is and to allow Poppy to treat her as she sees fit? I would like a private word with you and Mr Potter here.”

Severus was looking at Miss Granger’s parents who were gazing at their daughter as he had once seen them stare at her memorial stone – utter loss and defeat. The Headmaster followed his gaze.

“I will, of course, explain to the Grangers what is going on once we have agreed a course of action.” Severus nodded, and addressed the girl, who was still staring at him.

“Miss Granger, you are not to move from that bed until I return. Furthermore, you are to obey Madame Pomfrey in all things, be it submitting to examinations, eating or sleeping, am I understood?”

She nodded eagerly, reminding him a lot of a particularly devoted house-elf. He groaned to himself, and followed the other two men out of the door.


Dumbledore’s office seemed to have shrunk since he had last been in it - it had to have shrunk, it seemed incredibly crowded and stuffy. Potter was stalking around the room like some caged dog, and the Headmaster had settled behind his desk, fingers in a steeple shape in front of his face, frowning slightly. Severus stood between them, in the centre of the room, feeling mildly out of place.

“She’s gone,” said Potter, suddenly, his pacing stopping. “That girl is nothing like Hermione. She was brave, and clever, and, and-” his voice cracked, and Severus winced, having less desire to see the boy-wonder break down then he had desire to poke his own eyes out with a red-hot, pointed object. The boy scrubbed at his eyes and turned to stare, eyes unseeing, at a sneakoscope on a shelf.

“It’s like they killed what made her Hermione,” Potter whispered, his voice broken and husky.

“I believe Harry,” said Dumbledore, slowly with the frown still in place, “that you are right. But I do not believe that all hope is lost, and we may be able to resurrect her, if you will.”

Potter turned to gaze at the old wizard with eyes shining with both tears and hope, and Severus spent at least five seconds desperately wishing it had not been him that found her, that she had never been born, anything not to be here in this office and witnessing this sickeningly emotional scene.

“Severus,” said Dumbledore quietly, catching his attention once again, “may hold the key.”

“And how, exactly, would I do that?” Snape sounded as disgusted and disbelieving as Potter looked.

“Because,” said Dumbledore, not having moved, “she has handed you the ability to rebuild her.”

Potter and Severus shared a (and it was what Severus hoped would be a one-off experience) unique look of confusion. “How?” they said, in unison.

Discomfited, Snape sat, determined to distinguish himself from Potter.

“She referred to Severus as ‘Master’, therefore, he will, in a sense, order her, as her master, to return to the person she once was.”

Snape snorted and stood from his chair to begin to pace around the room, until he realised he was acting like Potter, at which point he stopped and stood stock still. “She does not remember who she is, in any way, as Potter said. How, exactly, am I supposed to order her to become something she does not remember?” He tried very hard not to sneer, but didn’t completely succeed.

“By providing her with a secure environment to rediscover who she is. Her likes and dislikes. Her friends and family. Her beliefs and moral structure – we shall let her build them all back.”

“A secure environment?”

“Yes.” If Snape hadn’t known better, he would have said Dumbledore was glowering at him. “As her Master, she trusts you, as was considerably demonstrated in the hospital wing. Therefore it is under your trusted wings that she shall once again relearn how to spread hers.”

Snape stood speechless, every possible argument against this course of action rushing into his head at once, crowding his thoughts. But Potter spoke – or hissed – before he could say anything.

“How the hell can you let him look after her? She hated him, loathed him, like everyone else with half a brain does. And you haven’t even asked him WHY she called him ‘Master’!” He was shouting by the time he finished.

“You are getting dangerously close to that cooling off we talked about, Harry,” said Dumbledore. Severus internally cheered.

Potter took several deep breaths through gritted teeth. “Why,” he said finally, sounding strained, “did she call him ‘Master’?”

“Because he was the only one acting in a manner she recognised. She needs a master to feel secure Harry, she has been conditioned that way, led to believe she needs a protector and owner in all things – therefore she latched onto the first person who demonstrated they could fulfill the role.”

“But she was Malfoy’s toy – isn’t she loyal to him?”

Dumbledore closed his eyes and frowned as if he was in pain. “I suspect, Harry,” he said slowly and carefully, “that she was not a toy solely for the Malfoys.”

Potter turned pale, and Severus couldn’t help but feel slightly queasy. Potter apparently felt the same way, dashing out of the room, but not making it to a bathroom before retching noises could be heard in the hall.

Dumbledore met Severus’ gaze. “Will you do this?” he said simply.

She flashed before his eyes, chained to a wall, helpless, frail and dying on a hospital bed, crying and trying to hide in a corner, and looking at him with hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” he said simply.