Chapter 2: Revelations

Harry was woken from a troubled sleep by a loud banging. He stumbled and fell out of bed, the dark sheets wrapped around his legs, and glanced at the clock reading 7:00.

He was still bleary eyed from sleep as he grabbed his glasses and tripped out of his bedroom wearing boxers and a faded old t-shirt. His hair stuck out in a wild black mess and he grumbled heading to the door. The infernal banging vibrated in his ears and he felt sure his head was going to explode.

"Alright alright! I'm coming!" he shouted irritably, wanting nothing more than the noise to cease.

He lurched open the door and scowled at the source of the infernal noise.

"What do you want?"

"Potter," he greeted, "I can see living on your own hasn't improved your sense of propriety or hygiene." Snape stated, his dark eyes disdainful as he took in Harry's unkempt appearance.

Harry narrowed his eyes then turned away and headed towards the kitchen.

"You look as if you haven't left this house for weeks." Snape drawled, watching the young hero fix a pot of coffee.

Harry sighed, he'd lost track of the days since Hermione's funeral… about two months? maybe three? He didn't know, and he didn't care.

In fact he couldn't say he cared about anything at the moment, nothing except Hermione. She stayed with him most his days, often scolding him for turning all his visitors away but he just wanted time with her, nobody else. He noticed that she tended to hang around longer and more often when he was alone, when he was in the company of other people she vanished. So to resolve the problem, he simply stopped entertaining guests.

Her disapproval never lasted very long… she cared for him too much.

Even if he hadn't turned people away for the sole reason of spending more time with her, he still would have secluded himself anyways. He enjoyed being alone. His former friends had nothing to offer him any longer, he had no need for their loyalty, friendship, or love. And he had nothing to offer them in return, so he pushed them away. He was quite conscious of every hurt he instigated.

Each short word, withering glare, or missed get-together was planned and executed willingly on his part.

He had been successful in driving almost everyone away as well, it was rather curious how easy it was to destroy long-lasting relationships. Ron adamantly refused to speak with him after Harry went off on him when he tried to set them up with double dates. Ginny dropped by every once in a while just to check on him though she was now happily dating some bloke from the Ministry. Remus and Tonks didn't try to include him in their lives anymore… he had blown off so many of their invitations that eventually they'd stopped sending them, but they did send a final letter telling him that when ever he wanted to come visit he was welcome. Most of his other acquaintances had lost touch without much effort from him.

Now only the Weasley twins and Severus Snape were his regular correspondents. He found that nothing he did or said to the twins would drive them away. They just kept coming back with grins and new products for him to sample from their shop.

As for why Snape refused to bugger off, Harry didn't quite know.

"Snape, you know I hate idle chatter, you can stop pointing out things I already know. Now why are you here?" Harry asked wearily, running a hand through his mop of black hair.

Then he paused, "Actually, why are you here?" he looked at the clock again, 7:04 pm. "Don't you normally come on Tuesdays?… Around lunchtime?" he frowned, puzzled and still slightly irritated, "Last time I checked, today was supposed to be a Snape-free day."

Snape gave him a stiff smile, "Is that the reason why you've been sleeping all day, Potter? I don't recall you looking like such a vagabond during my last visit."

His words made Harry flinch upon remembering the actual reason for his self-confinement to his bed today.

The old potions master surveyed him with calculating eyes before continuing, "Potter, I am here because you are…ill."

Harry's sluggish mind suddenly sharpened and his eyes flashed, his fingers tightened around his coffee mug.

"I'm fine." he replied tersely.

"Don't bother lying to me, Potter, I have seen this before… I know she is here."

He froze. How did he know?

Harry felt Hermione return suddenly, she had been gone all day and that was the reason for his irritable countenance. There had been a few days like that… and they were positively horrid. He couldn't endure them awake so he popped sleeping pills to pass the time. He had nightmares when she was away. When she was here, she kept them at bay, but she couldn't always be there… and she couldn't say why.

He felt Hermione's curiosity and fear at Snape's observation.

She wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and he could almost feel her chin resting on his shoulder and her soft curls brushing the back of his neck.

Harry… be careful…

Snape spoke again, " I know Ms. Granger is with you. I'm just surprised no one saw it before…" Snape frowned, "we should have known it would take more than death to separate that insufferable witch from you." he mused.

He heard Hermione chuckle softly.

I think we can trust him Harry… I don't think he will trouble us.

"Neither do I." he murmured to her, relaxing.

Snape looked at him curiously, respect and concern growing for the student he'd treated with such disdain for so many years.

"How did you know?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'd suspected for awhile," he raised a brow condescendingly, "you were not exactly discreet about speaking with her in public establishments. It seemed as if you were talking to yourself but you never did when other people were around, and a few times I watched you reach into thin air as if grabbing something unseen. It was when you stopped visiting Ms. Grangers's grave that I suspected there was more to this than mere grief and madness." Snape answered seriously.

"And what do you intend to do with this information?" Harry demanded, a slight tinge of defensiveness straining his voice.

Snape turned his calculating eyes back on him, "What would you like me to do, Potter?"

Ask him where he has seen this occurrence before Harry…

"Who else have you encountered with this situation?" he asked, his avoidance of the previous question was not lost on his former professor.

"An old acquaintance of mine," Snape answered thoughtfully, "she works as an Unspeakable in the Ministry. In fact…" he trailed off.

"Go make yourself presentable Potter, I think it would benefit you to speak with her directly." he commanded, his tone brooking no room for arguments.

Harry's first instinct was to protest, the hell he was leaving when he felt so cruddy. But Hermione urged him to do as the old professor said… so he did.

Scowling irritably, he trudged up the stairs to make himself presentable.

Twenty minutes later he was dressed in a pair of relatively nice jeans, and a black sweater, his hair had been hastily combed and now only looked slightly wild, he'd shaved the stubble off his face and brushed his teeth. Overall he thought he looked decent, not that he really cared what Snape thought of him but he supposed he did want to make a good impression on the lady whom Snape said was in a similar situation to his.

"Are you coming Hermione?" he murmured to the air.

Yes, Harry.. I'll be with you the whole time.

He felt her assure him with an affectionate smile and his tensed shoulders relaxed.

Snape appraised him as he entered the kitchen again, he said nothing but the curl of his upper lip in disgust effectively relayed his thoughts.

Harry wanted to punch him.

He heard Hermione laugh, her sweet bell-like laughter echoed around him and allowed himself a small smile for her.

"Oh shut up you…" he grumbled fondly.

She chuckled again in answer and when Harry saw Snape staring at him again with those measuring eyes he ushered them to get going.

You'll never be alone

when darkness comes I'll light the night with stars

hear the whispers in the dark

Moments after leaving Grimmauld Place, Harry and Snape were standing in front of a little cottage out in the countryside. A cool breeze blew past them, the fresh air was welcoming, the whole place had a quaint homy feel. Flora of all sorts lined the walkway up to the door, everything was immaculately taken care of, even the paint on the house and fence looked new.

Harry looked down at himself then Snape, noting that their black attire was certainly at odds with the brightly colored cottage and its surroundings, he almost didn't want to go in for fear of tainting it with his tragedies.

But they knocked on the door anyways and waited.

Hermione had kept true to her word and was there with Harry, he could imagine her fingers entwined in his, her other hand stroking his arm comfortingly.

What a lovely place Harry… it reminds me of Bill and Fleur's Shell Cottage.

"Yes it does, doesn't it… only Fleur can't garden worth shite." he murmured, remembering her first attempts at planting flowers. It had ended with Fleur crying about the dirt under her nails and throwing flower pots around.

Don't be crude Harry! But you are right…

She let out a full-throated laugh, I really can't stand her you know…

"Neither can I." he agreed.

The door swung open in the next moment and Harry looked at the person with interest. Whatever he had been expecting… she was not it. When Snape said she was an old acquaintance, he imagined some old lady, rather shrewd, someone more like who he thought a dark man like Snape would hang around with. He'd half expected her to be a former Deatheater, but seeing the bright little cottage had quickly disabused him of that notion.

The woman in front of him was average height, honey blonde hair, she couldn't have been more than forty, and bright sea blue eyes. She wore a simple floral dress that accented her curvy figure, but made her look gentle and homely all the same.

She smiled brightly at him, she was a curious creature, Harry couldn't quite figure out what made him uneasy about her… she looked perfectly happy and kind, yet he couldn't displace the feeling that something was off. He scrutinized her, trying to figure out what it was.

Snape cuffed him upside the head, "It is rude to stare, Potter."

Harry winced and glared at him, but he was right. He turned to the older woman and smiled charmingly, he gave her a polite bow and introduced himself.

"Ah Severus… so this is the young man you've told me so much about," she said amused, "well it is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter, won't you two come in?"

"Thank you Emma, " Snape greeted courteously, then he addressed Harry, "This is Emmeline Vance, an original member of the Order, now an Unspeakable."

The inside of the quaint cottage was similar to the outside, colorful but simple furniture decorated the interior, the walls were painted in soft pastels, flowery landscapes hung on the walls. Emmeline bustled them into the sitting room and fetched them some tea before sitting and facing them with a content open smile.

"So what brings you to visit me, Severus?" she queried.

Snape spoke quietly, as if speaking of a delicate or taboo subject, "Mr. Potter here, has found himself in a remarkably similar situation to your own a few years ago Emma."

She stiffened and Harry looked on with curiosity.

Her happy countenance and bright smile faded, Harry saw the sadness and grief creep into her bright blue eyes and he felt guilt worm through him.

"And what is it you wish to know?" she asked solemnly.

"I think Mr. Potter should hear the whole story Emma…" Snape said softly, it almost seemed like an apology.

Emmeline met Harry's green eyes with sorrow and despair, he knew she did not want to talk about this… but he had to ask anyways. He had to know what could happen.

It's alright Harry, this is necessary…

And Emmeline Vance began her story.

Harry listened avidly to her tale, it was so peculiar he almost wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't in the same situation as she. Hell if he'd attempted to explain his own story to himself he might do as everyone else did and write himself off as mad. He was not surprised to learn that no one had believed her when she needed help… except, of course, Severus Snape.

Before the first defeat of Voldemort, Emmeline had lived with her fiancé and fought with the Order of the Phoenix against the Deatheaters. They were young and in love, perfect victims for Voldemort. One afternoon, Emmeline's fiancé was patrolling an area in muggle London where Deatheaters were rumored to be when he was attacked. They did not kill him outright as per usual. They held him as hostage to lure out the other Order members. There was a recon unit sent to recover him and Emmeline was on it, they could hardly have asked her to stay behind since it was her fiancé they were holding captive. All had gone as planned in the reconnaissance mission until they got to his cell in the Dolohov's Manor. The Deatheaters were waiting for them and all were killed except Emmeline and her fiancé.

The Deatheaters tortured them for information, just as they had the Longbottoms. The Dark Lord killed Emma's fiancé right in front of her, they were chained a few feet apart and she was close enough to see the green light swipe the life out of his eyes but she couldn't hold him, she couldn't touch him. He died in front of her… just like Hermione died in front of him.

The Order assaulted the place right after and Emmeline was rescued… but her fiancé was dead. She was placed in St. Mungo's for a long time afterwards, they feared she'd gone mad like the Longbottoms, but she didn't. She was released two months after her rescue.

But she was different.

All her friends knew something was off about her; she was quieter, sadder, a little more addled than usual. She withdrew from everyone, pushed people away because all they would do was hurt her.

And she never told anyone that her fiancé was still with her just as Hermione was with him. No, she'd tried telling people in St. Mungo's but that was the wrong thing to do… after awhile she realized that she was the only one who would see or hear him and she stopped trying to make people see the truth. But she didn't stop seeing him. He was there with her, comforting her, loving her, telling her it wasn't her fault he died… that he was with her til the end.

Only Severus knew about him. Only he believed her when she told him her fiancé was there.

For some reason, Snape wanted to help her, he researched the afterlife and read hundreds of memoirs concerning loved ones who'd passed on. There was only one book that matched their situation. It was an old book dating back a few generations of the pureblood families, a dark book, from a time when Blood Magic was regularly practiced.

This book told a tragic tale of a dark wizard who'd loved and lost, only to have her haunt him in her afterlife. Their bond had been strong enough to keep her with him, an invisible line or chain that held her down to earth and allowed him alone to know of her existence. He tried hundreds of dark spells to resurrect her, to bring her back. But none were successful. The story only told of the occurrence, the beginning and some of their life together. It mentioned nothing of the end.

Harry's mind was swirling with questions, now he knew that Hermione wasn't the only one trapped here, but he couldn't imagine living life like this as long as Emmeline Vance did. She'd been in her early twenties when her fiancé was killed… more than twenty years had passed, living with a ghost that no one else could see.

He didn't want to live like that.

Was there not a way to bring Hermione back to life? She was already half-way here. He refused to accept that she would be dead for eternity. There had to be a way to bring her back, the universe couldn't do this to him… not after he'd saved the world from destruction at the hands of dark wizards, not after all he'd sacrificed. The older book had detailed accounts of all the dark spells he tested to bring her back. But that was so long ago, every year there were new magical developments. New spells, new boundaries and limits. There had to be something.

"Your fiancé is still here Emma?" Snape questioned, and Harry's head perked up.

Emma gave them a small smile and nodded.

Harry watched her eyes grow sad again, "How do you live like this Ms. Vance?" he asked softly.

Song- Whispers in the Dark- Skillet