September 1, 1998

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape,

I hope this letter finds your convalescence progressing satisfactorily. Professor McGonagall tells me that the Healers at St Mungo's are optimistic, and I don't doubt that with your strength of will, you will be up and doing whatever you please in no time. At least, I certainly hope so.

I wonder, does the first of September make you long for Hogwarts, or are you happy to be rid of the lot of us? It's none of my business, of course. I merely find myself longing for the Hogwarts Express today, and wishing that I could be there to finish my last year.

As I'm sure you've heard, sir, I'm not. I've travelled to Australia to restore my parents' memories, and though I'd hoped to bring them back to England with me and be able to enrol in Hogwarts this fall, it isn't going to be possible. The counter spell has done absolutely nothing to restore their memories, and I must admit to be at a loss.

Which brings me to the reason for writing to you, as I am sure you are wondering. No doubt by now you've already skipped to the bottom of the page to try to determine if there is any point to this letter, and at what stage of the parchment I finally come to it.

I need your help. Desperately. I've contacted the Healers in the Janus Thickey ward, and they were less than helpful. I can't blame them, seeing as how they have so many new cases, what with the end of the war and all, but all the same I do wish that they had taken the time to—never mind. I've rambled quite enough already, and I'm sure that any opinion I might express about the quality of the Healers at St Mungo's is one that you've already come to yourself.

Will you help me?

Hermione Granger

September 24, 1998

St Mungo's Hospital

Miss Granger,

Setting aside the inane prattle that comprised the majority of your letter—no, I bloody well do not want a drinky-poo! Now set the water on the table and be gone!—my apologies, Miss Granger. My nervous system is still recovering from both the venom and the antivenin and I am unable to hold a quill. Professor McGonagall has ever so thoughtfully gifted me with a dictating quill in order that she and I might exchange correspondence on an annoyingly regular basis. Unfortunately, it does not differentiate between words intended for my correspondence and words intended for the dim-witted dunderheads that St Mungo's appears to be breeding in order to supply menial services better suited to house elves.

In answer to your last question (there may have been others, but I confess to finding your letter approximately as forthright as the staircases in Hogwarts), I do not see how I can help you. I suggest that you contact the local Healers for advice.

Yours in pain,
Severus Snape

October 31, 1998

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape,

Thank you for your response. I am relieved to hear that you have been corresponding with Professor McGonagall. When I left, she was very concerned that you would isolate yourself during your convalescence and that we would never hear from you again. I'm glad to see that this is not the case.

I contacted the Healers here in summer when I first became aware that my parents' memories were not returning. Unfortunately, spells concerning the mind are very strictly regulated here, and I had to do some very fast talking in order to avoid being brought up on charges. Approaching them again is not in my best interests.

Please reconsider?

Hermione Granger

November 15, 1998

St Mungo's Hospital

Miss Granger,

Has no one taught you to take no for an answer? Of course not. Bloody Gryffindor obstinacy. And no, that was not mistakenly transcribed by this utterly maddening quill.

I am afraid that I do not comprehend how you wish for me to assist you. However, if you choose to relate the specifics of the memory charm you used originally, and a brief, I repeat, brief summary of the steps you have taken to reverse the original charm, I may or may not read your discourse. If, on the off chance that a method of treatment that you have not already attempted occurs to me, I will inform you.

And no matter what Minerva has said regarding my correspondence with her, I feel fully justified in sending her updates of my health, including everything that enters and leaves my body, at thirty minute intervals. If she did not wish to be bombarded with Owl after Owl, she should not have given me this accursed quill and guilted me into what must be a wholly unsatisfactory correspondence.

Yours in resignation,

Severus Snape

November 20, 1998

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape!

You cannot comprehend how happy you've made me! Even if you are able to do nothing for my parents, merely knowing that I have appealed to what I feel to be their best hope will help me to rest easier. Thank you, sir.

Enclosed you will find an explanation of the original charm used and a record of the counter charms attempted.

Hermione Granger

P.S. If you wish to scare Professor McGonagall away from her continued correspondence, you will have to come up with something rather worse than an accounting of your bodily functions. Her only complaint is that you have instructed the Owls to deliver your missives only when she is teaching. She found it disrupting until she taught her students to transfigure the letters on sight. The quality of her students' work has improved greatly as a result. See, Professor? Even away from Hogwarts you are helping to shape the minds of the next generation. Don't you feel proud? J

November 25, 1998

St Mungo's

Merlin's pants, Granger! Did you actually include a smiling face at the end of your ridiculously verbose and wholly unnecessary post script? I feel my dinner struggling to make a reappearance.

Yours in revulsion,
Severus Snape

December 10, 1998

St Mungo's

Miss Granger,

I have gone over the information you sent several times, and I can see no reason for your parents' memories to remain hidden. Lucius Malfoy has offered, rather, been coerced, into sharing the considerable contents of his library with me. Hence, all communication should now be directed to Malfoy Manor. I shall attempt to research the more potent spells his library is sure to contain. Do feel free to envy me the pleasure of Wiltshire in wet December while you are no doubt basking in the warmth of summer sun. You cannot imagine the joy that a house-arrested Lucius is.

Yours in futile self-sacrifice,
Severus Snape

December 15, 1998

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape!

While I very much appreciate the lengths to which you are willing to go in the pursuit of research, I must say that I in no way expect you to do anything which makes you uncomfortable. Were you even cleared to leave St Mungo's? If I discover that you have left against your Healer's advice, Minerva's irritations will seem as nothing compared to what I will do to you! (In passing, Minerva says to tell you that the curse you incorporated into your latest letters which forces anyone who attempts to spell it to realize their hitherto unrealized Animagus form is absolutely brilliant. Several of her seventh years are now proficient Animagi, and there is marked interest in the lower years.)

But I digress. I have no wish to annoy the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor with too many Owls, so instead I will wait for you to inform me of your progress.

Hermione Granger

December 25, 1998

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape,

Happy Christmas! I know this letter will not reach you until well after the fact, and that I promised I would not write, but, to be honest, I don't suppose either of us were naïve enough to believe I would last an appreciable amount of time.

Though I've no doubt you were hopeful.

I am sitting on the beach, looking out at the sea, and trying to figure out how things could have gone so wrong that I am reduced to spying on my parents as they barbecue shrimp for their Christmas dinner. Shrimp, Severus!

You don't mind me calling you Severus, do you? It is Christmas, after all. Perhaps you could consider it my present? Only for today, mind.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Shrimp. Severus, they don't even like shrimp! Dad always claimed it made the roof of his mouth itch, even though he wasn't allergic. And now they're eating it on purpose! And liking it!

It makes me wonder if my memory charm was faulty. I certainly don't remember planting false memories about their love of shrimp, but why the change? It's very odd, and I don't like it.

I do, however, enjoy sitting on this beach. There's something soothing about the endless expanse of the open sea, isn't there? Especially when I'm safe on dry land. But Severus, I'm starting to feel as if the land isn't safe, that slowly but surely I'm being swept out to sea, just as my parent's memories have been.

Was that too maudlin for you? I freely admit to opening a bottle of wine earlier today. It always loosens my tongue a tad. Which explains why I'm writing to you, of course. (No, that's exactly what I meant, Severus! My inhibitions are impaired, not my reasoning!)

If I were to write to Harry or Ron today, they'd secure the next portkey here, leaving school and Ginny, and really, all of the Weasleys, and well, I just can't do it. And here's where the true confession comes in. You see, Severus, (didn't I slip that in neatly? I bet you didn't even notice me using your given name!), I haven't told Harry or Ron about the botched memory charm. Well, I'm assuming it's botched, though we haven't proved it yet. But you know what I mean. Anyway, they have no idea that I was so irresponsible as to bungle the care of my parents, and they think I'm just here to make up for lost time and to relax.

You won't tell, will you? Pinky swear?

Gods, what am I saying? Pinky swear? You'd never! Perhaps a...oh! I've got it! A hooked nose swear!

Drat. I haven't got one of those.

Well. I'm trusting to your discretion, sir. (See how I slipped that 'sir' in? That's to let you know that, even if I use your first name, I still respect you. Did it work? Do you feel respected?)

Anyway, I hope you're having a lovely Christmas. I suspect my parents will go to church tonight. I plan to follow them. That's sort of like celebrating together, isn't it?

Hermione Granger

December 26, 1998

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape,

Oh dear gods. I woke up this morning with a splitting headache and the oddest sensation that I wrote a very long and inappropriate letter to you yesterday.

Did I?

Write you a letter, that is. I don't need your confirmation to know that I woke with a headache.

Well, I hope I didn't say anything too terrible, and that you're having a lovely Christmas.

Hermione Granger

December 31, 1998

Malfoy Manor

Miss Granger,

You have nothing for which to apologize. If you did, indeed, send me a letter, the existence of which I neither confirm nor deny, I assure you that it was a better source of amusement than I have had the opportunity to enjoy in a very long time. (No Draco, I will not give you Miss Granger's address so that you can have a bottle of Firewhiskey delivered to her. I have already taken the liberty of sending her an entire case of your Father's finest elf-made wine. Now do be a good boy and fetch me Gerbrant's Treatise on the Effects of Intent on Charms.)

I am exploring a new avenue of inquiry. If you would be so good as to describe in detail exactly what you were thinking, feeling, and intending when the charm was cast, it would be most helpful. (No, Draco, I specifically asked for Gerbrant's Treatise, not Gailbraith's. Perhaps your Father's private library might be worth perusing?)

Draco knows only that you and I are working on a project together—he is ignorant of the condition of your parents and will remain so unless you indicate that I am free to divulge the true nature of my research. I can assure you of his desire to be of assistance, his ability to keep a confidence, and the general help he has already provided, but the choice is yours.

Yours in amusement at the letter you may or may not have penned,

Severus Snape

January 6, 1999

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape,

I thank you for the delivery of elf-made wine, but I am sure you would agree that it would probably be best if I do not indulge again. At least, not until after our research is concluded.

I will trust your judgement in regards to Draco Malfoy. I would prefer that he not know the details of my private life, but the state of my parents' health supersedes my pride. He must, however, be sworn to secrecy, as I am not ready to deal with Harry and Ron's concern.

You have asked me to describe my thoughts and feelings when I cast the memory charm. In a word, Professor, I was desperate. Terrified and heart-broken as well, but mostly desperate. Is that helpful?

Hermione Granger

February 3, 1999

Malfoy Manor

Miss Granger,

My research is as yet inconclusive, but I fear that your answer is, most indeed, helpful. One of Lucius' more rare texts (I am prevented from even divulging the title of the work, and no, Draco, that is not code for anything. Honestly. If after seven years in the Slytherin common room and two in the service of the tyrant formerly known as the Dark Lord, you cannot determine when someone is or is not passing along taboo information, I shall consider myself as having sorely neglected my duties.)

But to the matter at hand. This unnamed tome included a memory spell very similar to the one used on your parents. A footnote at the bottom of the spell indicates that in extremely rare cases when there is an abundance of emotion attached to the caster of the spell, there may be unpredictable consequences in the durability of the spell. Unfortunately, the footnote did not elaborate further.

I cannot be certain, of course, but I suspect that the desperation you described feeling at the time the spell was cast may have strengthened it past the powers of any counter-charms currently in existence.

In this, as in so many of your other endeavors, I fear you may have surpassed the norm.

Yours in regret,
Severus Snape

February 10, 1999

Melbourne, Australia

Professor Snape,

I freely admit that your letter did not contain the news I wished to hear, and that the case of elf-made wine has been opened. Continue reading at your own peril.

I have often been criticised for my over-achieving tendencies, but before today I have never regretted this attribute. Knowing the cause of my parents' continued memory loss is my own lack of control over my emotions is a bitter pill to swallow. Or, rather, potion to drink, as the case may be.

I do not pretend to understand why my grief and guilt are stronger now than when I believed myself to have botched the original charm. In either case the fault lies with me, does it not?

Minerva informed me of your thoughtful and generous Christmas present to her. Really, Severus? A collection of decorative animated kitten plates? She does assure me, however, that the tartan tams on each kitten set off the pink background delightfully. I repeat: Really, Severus? You may think that the formidable (and no, Draco, who I suspect has pilfered and is reading this letter, I do not refer to the French formidable) wards of Malfoy Manor will protect you from Minerva's retaliation, but you would be grossly underestimating her.

I am sitting on the beach once more, watching the sun set over the sea. Is it sunset where you are, now? Sunrise? No matter. Are you familiar with the Muggle group Kansas and their song Dust in the Wind? As I sit here, I cannot help but change dust to sand. After all, in the long run my petty troubles amount to nothing more than a tiny particle of sand on the vast shore of life.

Do you find that comforting, sir? I almost think that I do…

I am not sure that I will write to you again, Severus. If I do not, I wish you to know that I appreciate the effort extended on my behalf. If nothing else I have the comfort, cold as it may be, of having more answers than I did before I arrived here.

Goodbye, Severus.

Hermione Granger

February 15, 1999

Melbourne, Australia

Professor McGonagall,

Though I thank you most kindly for your offer of employment, I am pleased to reject it. I am currently sitting on the beach beside one of your former students, looking out over the sea. I am an unexpected visitor here, but not a wholly unwelcome one, I hope. I believe that I may be suited to a life of research, and so I cannot in good conscience ask you to hold my position at Hogwarts. (No, Hermione, I insist that you reapply sun block—you will burn to a crisp of you do not. No, no, you missed a spot, you silly girl.)

As you can see, Minerva, though my digital dexterity has greatly improved, I have chosen to continue using your thoughtful gift. It does provide a measure of freedom I had not previously appreciated.

Severus Snape

P.S. If you wish to send any other thoughtful gifts my way, I believe that Lucius and Draco plan to sojourn here in the near future for several months and would be happy to transport said gifts. If, say, those gifts should make life uncomfortable for them, that would be most...welcome.