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Shattered	By : Adriana Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 11986 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Shattered

By Adriana

trixielou60@hotmail.com

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"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

~Albus Dumbledore, from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Go! upon thy wing arise,

Plumed by quick energies,

Mount in circles up the skies:

And I will bless thy winged passion,

Help with words thine exaltation,

And, like a bird of rapid feather,

Outlaunch thee, Soul, upon the ether.
~ From the poem "Soul and Body" by St. Gregory Nazianzen, the Theologian
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Chapter 2: Soul

In the aftermath of Madam Pomfrey's death, Severus Snape slipped quietly from the room. Dumbledore had whispered to Hermione that they were going to have a meeting with some of the staff to discuss the day's events. "The students have all been confined to their respective common rooms. They'll want to know what's going on, so I'm gathering everyone together in the Great Hall." He sighed. "I remember the first time I had to remind the children of the evil in our world. It hasn't gotten any easier since Cedric Diggory."
"They're not completely sheltered, Headmaster," said Hermione. Dumbledore allowed himself a small smile. "Don't you think it's time you called me Albus? All my friends do, you know."
For the first time in ages, Hermione felt her mouth twitch in a returning smile. "Albus, it is."
Albus continued, "While you are right, Madam Pomfrey's death is still going to come as a terrible shock. I don't expect the staff meeting to occur for another two hours, at least. There is so much to talk about and I expect that we'll be able to talk more freely with some than with others. I'm sure you gather my meaning." His eyes did that "twinkley" thing. "This may take a series of meetings!"
Hermione pondered the hidden message behind that statement.
As she stood up shakily, she was surprised to see Snape slip from the shadows to move over to her and place a steadying hand on her elbow. She hadn't noticed that he'd returned. Hermione caught a look from him and her first thought was, "Do I see pity in his eyes? Norelyrely not." She straightened her posture in a defiant gesture.
"I've had a room made up for you here in the Dungeons," Albus said quietly. Hermione gave him a look of surprise. "I know you were expecting to stay somewhere near Gryffindor Tower, but for the sake of practicality, I think it's best if you were near the Potions Lab. Something tells me we're going to need your help."
Hermione risked aelonelong glance at Snape. His usual scowl deepened further.
"I'm going to have to contact my superiors at the hospital and let them know that I'll be staying here, at least for a while. Luckily, I was overdue for some vacation time, so I don't think that there will be a problem."
Dumbledore looked at her with affection. "Rest child. We'll find you when it comes time for the meeting. I expect you'll want to be alone for a while." For once, Hermione was grateful for the Headmaster's legendary omniscience.
Snape's silky voice intervened. "I'll walk you to your quarters." Hermione murmured her thanks.

They walked in silence and when they reached her rooms he said curtly. "I'll see you shortly."
With a sweep of his robes, he continued down the hall.
*****************************************
Once she reached the sanctuary of her rooms, Hermione collapse a c a chair by the fireplace in her sitting room. She drew a shaky breand tnd took her first survey of her surroundings. Her suite consisted of three rooms; the sitting room, a bedroom, and a rather large bathroom.
Getting up to explore the bedroom, Hermione had been surprised at the brightness of the room. While one wall was the requisite old stone, the other walls were painted in a bright sky blue colour. There was a sturdy oak dresser and a matching desk and night table. Plush gold rugs covered the white carpet. She noticed that the oak headboard was carved into the shape of a graceful phoenix, wings outstretched.

"How fitting," Hermione thought to herself.
The bedspread was midnight blue, sprinkled with small silver stars, which twinkled subtly in the growing dusky light from the window.
A window? In the dungeons? As Hermione wondered about this, a little House Elf bustled in, her arms full of towels for the bathroom. She stammered when she saw Hermione. "Is-Is that you, M-miss Hermione? Winky is so glad to see you!" She squeaked, "My friends are all cryin' in the kitchens, Miss. Madam Pomfrey was a kind mistress." Large tears began to leak from her eyes.
"We all loved her, Winky. We will not let Voldemort get away with this."
"Oh no, Missy! Please don't say his name!" She began to cry harder.
To distract her, Hermione said, "I didn't know there were windows in the dungeons." Winky smiled suddenly. "Professor Snape, sir, was coming in here before you and he made the window with his wand." Suddenly the little Elf looked horrified.
"Oh no! Winky is not supposed to be telling Missy that! Bad Winky! Winky is so bad!"
Before Winky could start banging her head on the floor, Hermione intervened smoothly. "Don't worry, Winky. I promise I won't mention this to anybody, least of all, Professor Snape."
"Really, Miss? The professor, sir, he says that he would put Winky in a jar, that he�d make a potion out of Winky!" She wailed.
"I promise, Winky. Not a word to anybody."
Placated, Winky happily bustled out of the room. "There is food in the kitchens, if Miss is wanting to eat later."
The House Elves had obviously prepared her quarters in record time. There was a small table next to a creme-coloured couch in the sitting room and a tray with tea and biscuits had been placed upon it. Hermione took a distracted bite out of her cookie and grimaced. It tasted like ashes in her mouth. "Pull yourself together, girl," she told herself.
Sighing, she went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. As she looked up into the mirror, she was shocked by what she saw. Her face was terribly pinched and pale, darkclescles evident under her eyes. Her hair looked like family of field mice had made a nest in it.
Good Lord, no wonder Snape had given her a pitying look. She looked so bad that even the Greasy Git Potions Master had felt sorry for her.
"There, there, dear," crooned the Mirror. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

A walk. I need to go on a walk.

Pulling on her robes, she made her way outside the castle, to the lake.
*******************************
Snape sat at a desk in his private quarters, his body hunched. His hair was disheveled, as he had a habit of running his fingers through it when he was agitated. Pulling his hands from his face, he let out a deep breath. "I should have known things were only going to get worse," he whispered softly to himself.

He was a man lost. He knew that his life wasn't worth a knut, now with his cover blown. He thought about the events of that afternoon. It wasn't a coincidence that Voldemort had gone after Poppy and Minerva.
But why? Why not Potter or Weasley, or even Hermione? Why not himself?
Indeed.

"It should have been me, Poppy," he thought mournfully. How he wished it had been.
He thought about the heating cauldrons that he�d left in the Potions Lab. Getting up, he told himself that he might as well be useful.
He had his back to his door when he was surprised by a smooth voice.
"Working hard, Uncle Severus?"
Whirling, he was mildly surprised to see Draco Malfoy standing right in the middle of his personal space. "I�m going to have to change my wards again," he thought fleetingly. He glared at Malfoy.
"Shouldn't you be somewhere? Like somewhere else?" Snape snarled.
"Now is that any way to treat a relative? Mother would be very unhappy at your ." ." Draco gave a theatrical sniff.
"Your mother would completely understand. Besides, I'm not really your unclere lre like a third cousin, twice removed."
"Details." Draco grinned widely. "Besides, you should be glad to see me. I've got loads to tell you. But first, a drink!"
"You know where it is." Snape let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but why are you here
Draco poured himself a scotch. "I've got news of Voldemort."
***************************************
Hermione found herself strolling around the lake, lost in deep thought. The early winter breeze shifted slightly, blowing tendrils of her curly hair over her face. Brushing them back impatiently, she wondered about the Headmaster's statement that they could use her help. Something told her that it had less to do with her healing skills and more to with her knowledge of potions. She wondered about that. Surely Snape was the true expert in that field.
Snape.
She had pushed him away from her thoughts, like a black hole she was afraid to touch. This afternoon he had been almost . . . kind. Well not kind, exactly, but certainly civil. Almost human. Except for that encounter they had when they first reached his quarters, he'd treated her with a certain deference that had been wholly unexpected. She had felt the sparks fly between them and an electric current had run through her when he'd gripped her shoulders. She shivered and again pushed that thought away.
Not now, she told herself. Not ever.
And yet, there was that window. Snape had made a point of conjuring a window for her. Before she could contemplate that further, she heard a soft, teasing voice from behind her.
"Thinking of me?"
She turned quickly. "Harry!" She was gratified to see the familiar, mischievous gleam in his emerald eyes. "Oh, Harry!"
He reached for her to pull her in a tight embrace. "I've missed you so," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't written with more regularity. This Auror stuff is really killer." He grinned.
"It's alright. I've hardly been home anyway. I suppose you heard the news."
Harry took in a deep breath. "It's awful. I know how you felt about Madam Pomfrey, I'm so sorry."
Hermione felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. "She was my mentor, you know. Everybody thought I was going to follow in McGonagall's footsteps, or even Snape's, but Madam Pomfrey opened my eyes to the wonders of true wizard healing. I mean, it has everything! In a way, I have followed in McGonagall and Snape's footsteps. Even Vector's! I've had to learn about potions, surely, but even before that there are the theories involved in arithmancy. And transfiguration is a critical component in healing in the battlefield. Madam Pomfrey pointed the way to . . . I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"Ye"Yes, but I like it."
Hermione sighed. "Harry, Albus seems to think that I can be useful in the fight against Voldemort. I'm not so sure."
"Of course you can be useful, you're brilliant, right?" He laughed. Hermione playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Anyway, I suppose we'll find out soon enough what's on the Headmaster's mind."
"I suppose so," Hermione said quietly.
"By the way, Ron sends his love. He's acty ony on a top-secret training mission, which is why he couldn't be here. I'd tell you where it is, but then I'd have to, you know . . . " he smiled. "Tickle you!"
Hermione screeched as he grabbed her. "Really! You think you'd have grown up by now!"
"Never!" he said defiantly.
"I'm so glad you're here, Harry. I feel so much better."
"That's the idea." Putting an arm around her shoulder, he said, "Let's walk, shall we?"
*************************************
The meeting in Dumbledore's quarters was an intimate one. Snape was seated in his usual chair by the fire. The group included McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Vector, Harry and to her infinite surprise, Draco Malfoy. He smirked at her, but before she could ask the obvious question, Remus Lupin walked briskly into the room. "I'm sorry I'm late! Hermione! It's good to see you, my dear. I'm sorry about Poppy, I know she meant the world to you."
"Thank you, Remus," she said gratefully. "I'd heard that you were here at Hogwarts, teaching Defense Against The Dark Arts. I'm glad somebody stood up for you before the Board of Governors." She looked pointedly at Snape. He arched an eyebrow at her.
"Padfoot would have liked to have been here, but he's busy tracking a group of Death Eaters in Albania," Remus interjected.
"Sniffing after Narcissa Malfoy, would be more like it," snarled the Potions Master.
"Don't let Lucius hear you say that," laughed Draco. "He'd challenge you to a duel, not that it wouldn't be amusing to watch. And eewwww, Mum and Sirius are cousins. Besides, from what I understand, Mr. Dog hasn�t sniffed around my mother for years!"

"Oh really!" exclaimed an exasperated McGonagall.
"Now children," interrupted the Headmaster. " If I may focus your attention. I'm syouyou're wondering about Draco's presence in this room. Despite the smirk, Draco has proven himself loyal to our cause. Some of you may have heard of his, *ahem* more notorious activities, but I can assure you that Draco plays both sides very well."
"Why thank you, Professor. I'll take that as a compliment. And I owe it all to my Uncle Severus, who has taught me every dirty trick he knows." He raised his glass to Snape, who was muttering, "I'm not your bloody uncle!"
Hermione gave a stage whisper to Harry. "I think I liked him better when he was a Death Eating Prat."
Draco walked over to Harry, holding out his hand.
"Potter, you bloody git."
"Malfoy, you utter wanker." Harry grinned. They shook hands.
"Now that we've all properly greeted each other, perhaps we can move on?" Snape's tone was sarcastic.
"Certainly, Uncle. As I was telling you, I have news of Voldemort. For some insane reason, he seems to trust me. He thinks I have 'potential' and I've become a confidant, of sorts. Right now, he's convinced that I'm at Hogwarts, wooing our lovely Dr. Granger here. It seems that the Dark Lord is something of a romantic. He thinks that the Malfoy Charm can do wonders for the good Healer�s disposition. When I pressed him about it, he told me that Hermione was involved in some very interesting research and that if I was a good little boy toy, perhaps I could find out more, via pillow talk, or something of the sort. I believe he was talking about sex."
Hermione choked on her tea.
"The very idea!" She sputtered. " I hate you! Or at least, I did, anyway."
"Now that I'm working for the Light, don't you think I'm a good catch?" He smirked the annoying Malfoy Smirk at her.
"Great Merlin's Adam Apple!" roared Snape. "Don't you see you're completely missing the point? He's interested in her research!" He turned to Hermione. "I'm guessing there's a spy at your workplace. Enlighten us please, about what it is you're doing in London."
Hermione spoke slowly. "It's all very hush, hush," she frowned. "I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I should start by telling you that I'm a Sentient." She looked at Snape. "We specialize in the healing of injuries imposed by dark magic. It's a very arduouscesscess and it involves a very disciplined approach that usually discourages most wizard doctors. There are very few of us."
"Go on," murmured Albus.
"While my research is in its infancy, I have been studying a technique called 'Soul Gathering'. The best way I can explain it to you is tell you that it's been well known for years that the Unforgiveables work by causing a 'shattering' of the soul, so to speak. Even with the Imperius and Cruciatus curses, the soul splinters in response to the spells, as a sort of defense mechanism. Our souls naturally disconnect in the face of such trauma and quite literally, the pieces are thrown into the cosmos. I guess it's the cosmos, we're not really sure where they go. Anyway, the ancient Druids came up with a healing technique that involved gathering the lost pieces of the soul back to the body and thus, the person becomes whole again, facilitating healing. I can assure you that it's much more complicated than I explained, but that's the gist of it. Interestingly, some of the ancient Indian tribes of the Americas used a similar technique to heal a condition that is currently known as 'Multiple Personality Disorder'. Of course, they didn't call it that. Their technique was to integrate the splintered personalities. Fascinating, really."
"And how is your research going?" Snape's voice betrayed his interest.
"I think I've worked out some of the arithmancy. I can tell you that I've determined that it can't be done with a simple spell. It takes a combination of a potion to gather the soul back into the mind and then a spell to channel it into the body. The potion is very tricky because its properties would be somewhat unpredictable, but I think it can be done. At least, I'm banking my research grant on it."
"Uncle Severus, you've got that look again." Draco eyed his "uncle" as Snape began pacing back and forth across the room.
Snape's head snapup. up. "Voldemort is immune to the killing curse, he's been bragging about it at the revels. He's apparently found a way to keep his soul intact in the face of it." He gave Hermione an appraising look. "Your 'Soul Gathering Spell' . . . can it be done backwards?"
Hermione gaped at him. "Pardon?"
"You heard me, you foh gih girl. Can you do it backwards?"
Hermione�s gape changed into a glare. "I suppose the process could be reversed, but for what purpose . . . "
"Think about it, Dr. Granger," Snape purred. "If there was such a thing as a potion that could weaken the soul, then a spell that could shatter it . . . "
"Voldemort could be defeated." Hermione finished in disbelief.
"Precisely. Right now, our biggest stumbling block has been that he's been using his physical body like an Imperius curse. He controls the body, but he doesn't fully inhabit it. Killing his body is pointless, his soul, such as it is, would only escape until a new body could be found. But if his soul is shattered, it would be the end of him."
Harry leaned forward in his chair. "But do you think Voldemort has figured this out? Is that why he's so interested in Hermione's research?"
"That and the fact that she's a Sentient. What Dr. Granger so pointedly forgot to mention is the fact that a Sentient can bring those who have suffered a fatal injury from Dark Magic back from the brink of death. Contrary to popular belief, the Killing Curse isn't the only Dark Magic that kills. Perhaps Voldemort thinks that he would have occasion to make use of your Sentient Kiss?"
Hermione shuddered.
Snape continued. "I take it you still have the Sentient Mark? You haven't wasted it on some undeserving dunderhead, have you?"
"No, it's here." She stood up and pulled her wild hair away from the nape of her neck. There, poised in splendid technicolor, was the tattoo of a Phoenix. The amazing thing about it was that it seemed to move, as if it were a living creature.
"Oh my," muttered Harry. "Do we have a lot to talk about, Hermione!"
As if on cue, Fawkes flew from Dumbledore's shoulder to his perch, and stretching his wings, he let out a single, beautiful note.

To be continued . . .

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Author�s Note: If Draco seems a little OOC from the books, remember, he�s 25 years old and has a personal history that will be explained as "Shattered" goes on . . . like his Uncle Severus, he�s led a secret life.
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Shattered