Chapter Five: The Mystery

Severus fled the room immediately after showing Granger his memories, banging his elbow on the doorway as he passed Luna Lovegood. He had transfigured the sheets into walls and put a proper doorway in them earlier, wondering why Minerva had not done something about it herself. It was obvious that Granger was going to be in the infirmary for a while.

Severus returned to the headmaster’s office – his office. He needed to be alone so that he could research the curse. Severus pulled out the books he had brought from his personal library and began reading, but his thoughts would not let him concentrate.

Why had she done it? Gryffindors might be known for acts of heroic stupidity, but her sacrifice was baffling. He could only assume that she had been so distraught when Potter died that she did not care if she died as well. No doubt she had been in love with Potter for years... hadn’t he witnessed her numerous attempts to make the boy jealous? Her exploits with Cormac McLaggen at Slughorn’s party were a perfect example.

Perhaps she had believed she was giving Severus the chance to destroy Voldemort, as it would be just like a Gryffindor to die for the greater good. Did she realize that she would have died for nothing? Potter had escaped death yet again and defeated the Dark Lord while Severus lay frozen on the ground.

With great effort, Severus pushed such thoughts aside and began to read again, but it was not long before they again intruded into his consciousness.

He had been harsh with her, but with reason. Her memories would bring in another point of view and greater understanding of the curse. He had not wanted to tell her, but he had not been able to refuse the plea, infused with overwhelming desperation, that she had thrown at his mind. She seemed to have some strange power over him... but he knew what it was. He owed her a life-debt.

For the second time in his life he was going to work tirelessly to save another golden Gryffindor from the aftermath of foolish bravery, and he could not even hate her for it. She could have no selfish motive for her sacrifice. He could find no fault with her except for an infatuation with Potter, and he had long forgiven another young woman for the same mistake. His temper flared. Potter really was just like his father. Severus pitied Miss Granger. She had thrown away her life for a worthless, arrogant . . .

Severus slammed the book shut and began pacing in front of the desk. He would not go there.

He could not help it, though; he began comparing her to Lily. Of course, Lily was infinitely superior to Hermione Granger. She had never been a know-it-all and for at least a few years she had hated James Potter almost as much as Severus did. However, when Potter wanted something, he always got it, and he had eventually won Lily over.

Severus knew that he shared some of the blame for Lily’s mistake. He no longer pretended that she could have been with a Death Eater, but he resented the fact that everyone else in the world believed Potter was a saint and that Lily had been destined for him. The golden couple was what they had been called and Lily had been swept away in Potter’s popularity. She could not have been as happy as she had pretended, living in a world of saccharine lies, giving up all her previous ambitions to become a wife and mother so quickly. Severus would never consider it a possibility.

Severus realized he had just broken the quill he held in his hands in half.

His newfound pity for Granger did not extend to her mind. He had played the devil’s advocate earlier when he asked her whether she thought she had more strength of mind than most people. She certainly did. He was no longer convinced that it was the curse that kept her so composed. He had witnessed enough brief moments of emotion to know that it was there, normally restrained and controlled. He should not be surprised, for Granger had always been impeccably organized and practical. She was also a meticulous overachiever who seemed often incapable of thinking for herself. Lily had been brilliant and creative . . . she had loved it when he invented spells for her.

Severus closed his eyes and fought the memories back. He must stop thinking about her; it always put him in the worst mood and he had work to do. He massaged his temples and cleared his mind before sitting down at the desk once more. He managed to read almost ten pages before he was distracted again.

It was amazing that he was able to communicate with Granger so well. Being incapacitated would help focus her mind, but it was still incredible that he was able to understand her so easily. Her thoughts were a combination of words, images, emotions, and imagined gestures. He had sensed her desire to sigh twice in frustration. The nuances of this sort of thought-speech were intriguing and completely new to him.

As much as he wanted to avoid Granger after today, he also wanted to learn more about the way they were communicating. Granger was far less irritating when she was not speaking aloud. Her thoughts were beautifully crafted, expressive phrases – much preferable to hearing the knee-jerk recitation of a textbook.

Severus returned to his book again with determination. He was certain that the curse was some kind of modified petrification, and he started by researching what forms already existed before he tried to figure out what Voldemort had done. He could do nothing but study, wait for Granger to exhibit more effects of the curse, and hope he could act fast enough to save her. He was also aware that he may be affected by the curse to a lesser degree, since he had been hit by a small fraction of it, which might give him insight on the symptoms should any more affect him.

By the time Severus extinguished the lights and went to bed, he had been through three books with little success. It seemed that his knowledge on the subject of petrification-based curses was not as lacking as he had assumed. There were only two forms of dark curses related to petrification that were discussed at any length. The first was known as ‘drowning from the inside’ – the victim was petrified, then their insides slowly turned to water until finally it spewed from their mouth like a fountain, making the poor witch or wizard a permanent monument as a warning to others. The second was a type of full-body bind that could only be lifted by the wand that cast it. The victim was fully conscious and could move their eyes. It was upon reading the last point that Severus had a terrible thought. What if Voldemort’s wand, the Elder Wand, was the only one that could lift the curse? Potter had destroyed it.

Severus only knew of the wand's fate because Minerva had filled him in on the events of the battle he had missed after being hit by the curse. Potter was avoiding Severus like the plague, though the boy seemed to have lost much of the defiance that typically shone out from his emerald green eyes in Severus' presence.

Severus estimated that he had been conscious in the infirmary for at least an hour before he was able to move. He had been in a dream state, unable to open his eyes, wondering what had happened to him. Then it had all come rushing back and Granger’s face had haunted him.

With a surge of energy, he had opened his eyes and squinted at the ceiling. Sitting up, he examined himself for injuries. When it appeared that he was completely unharmed, he had gone in search of someone who could explain what happened to him. He had not even known what day it was.

Passing the windows, he could see that it was dusk. He had wandered through the infirmary, noting who was still alive. Horace had looked like he might not make it and Arthur Weasley took labored breaths in a nearby bed. It could not be long after the battle, Severus had surmised.

Ducking into another sectioned room, he had found Potter sleeping soundly, with Ron Weasley in a bed next to him. So, the boy-who-lived still lived. Was the Dark Lord gone for good? He wondered and worried as he walked up to the bed and stared at Potter. Lifting his sleeve and peering at his forearm, he saw that the Dark Mark had faded, leaving a scar in its place. Potter stirred and rolled over. Severus backed away from the bed and left the room quietly.

“Severus Snape!”

McGonagall had flown toward him, followed by Madam Pomfrey.

“What in heaven’s name – how is it possible? Poppy?”

“You saw as well as I did, Minerva, he looked like he was a breath away from death! I don’t understand it!”

The two women stood speechless in front of him, looking like they thought he might be a ghost. Then, Madam Pomfrey had stepped forward and taken his arm.

“You must come back to your bed,” she said shakily.

“Madam, I will do no such thing. I feel perfectly well and I assure you I have no injuries to speak of.”

“Severus, I must insist!” Madam Pomfrey patted his arm, and he snatched it away from her in annoyance.

“No, I must insist. I will go back to my bed if Professor McGonagall will accompany me and explain exactly what has happened while I was unconscious.”

“Of course, Severus,” Minerva had said, looking frightfully pale. “I’ll come now.”

They left, and once Severus was sitting on edge of his bed, McGonagall had conjured up a chair for herself. She was still staring at him in shock and fear. She cleared her throat.

“Where would you like me to start?”

“How about the moment after Miss Granger was killed.”

Severus watched her reaction.

“She’s not dead, Severus,” she had said in a hushed tone. “She’s – well, we don’t understand it. She seems to be petrified, in a way. We were hoping that you might be able to- ”

“Yes,” he said impatiently, “I’ll see her right away, but first... tell me what happened to Voldemort.”

“He’s gone. Potter used the Killing Curse in the end.”

“Potter? As I recall, Potter was dead.”

Severus had waited for her explanation while calming his mind. There would be no celebrating until it was confirmed that Potter had done it properly and his dark master was truly vanquished.

“He’s not dead!” she exclaimed. “We don’t really understand why. Potter said something about Horcruxes and his mother and the Elder Wand. I don’t think he understands himself – he certainly did not expect to be alive.”

“He was able to duel the Dark Lord and win?”

Severus wanted details. Only then could he be sure of the relief that rose up in his chest.

“It’s strange, how it happened,” she said slowly. “After Voldemort cursed you and Miss Granger, he. . . faltered. Almost as if the curse drained his power. It was just for a moment, but that was enough for Harry to disarm him. He caught the wand and sent the Killing Curse with it. At the same time, I and at least three others did the same... and that was the end. After that, it was not hard to round up those Death Eaters that were left. They didn’t put up much of a fight once he was gone. The Elder Wand, if that is what it truly was, has been destroyed.”

Severus studied the floor thoughtfully. McGonagall continued.

“After that, we started tending the wounded. We found you and Miss Granger frozen. We assume you were hit by a bit of the curse she was unable to block. You’ve been unconscious for a day now. Nobody outside the castle knows that you’re still alive. We’ve managed to keep the press out, and we hid you from the Ministry when they came to inspect the grounds but it won’t be long before they find out. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

McGonagall’s expression had suggested that she wanted to hear that explanation as well.

“Dumbledore’s portrait has already spoken to me on your behalf.”

Severus nodded.

“And Miss Granger?”

She sighed.

“Miss Granger has not revived. It’s incredible that you were the one to wake up first.”

She studied him.

“You appeared to be dead, except for the fact that you were breathing. She, however, looks like she’s only asleep. They can’t find a thing wrong with her.”

A long silence followed in which Severus contemplated everything she had said. Finally, she spoke again.

“Severus, I’m sorry for the trouble we gave you- ”

“Yes, thank you,” he interrupted. “Where is Miss Granger?”

Minerva had pursed her lips, perhaps to hold back more apologies, then nodded slightly and stood up.

“Come with me.”

She had directed him to Granger’s room and then gone in search of Madam Pomfrey. It was then that he had noticed Potter hanging around, and caught sight of Weasley at the bedside. Hadn’t they just been sleeping?

He had focused on Granger, searching for a conscious mind and was met with exuberant emotion. He noted the arrival of McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and of all people, Molly Weasley, before he made his surprising announcement.

Now he found himself reading well into the night, determined to do his best to save the foolish Gryffindor, friend of Potter, insufferable-know-it-all, who had saved his miserable life.