It was two nights before the first Triwizard task, and Hermione knew that she should have felt excited for Harry. After all, as the youngest participant and the unprecedented fourth champion, he would have the chance to prove to the school and the entire wizarding world that he was more than just "The Boy Who Lived." And yet, Hermione couldn't get over the feeling that the tournament would not end well. Despite Ron's stubborn belief that Harry had found a way around the age line and entered the tournament in an arrogant attempt at stardom, Hermione considered herself a better judge of boys' egos, and knew that while Ron would attempt such a thing, Harry had no need or desire for more fame. Well, now that she came to think of it, he did enjoy being a hero at times, but he had so many opportunities to prove himself that he had no need to enter the tournament. Besides, if she couldn't come up with a way to cross the age line herself (and after Harry had been entered into the tournament, she had spent several weeks in the library trying to find out how it was possible), she doubted Harry would have been able to do so in such a short period of time.
In addition to the unforeseen selection of Harry as the fourth champion, Hermione was still worried about the dream Harry had mentioned over the summer. If Harry was dreaming about Voldemort, and if his scar was still hurting him… well, it couldn't be a good sign. Despite her encouragement, he still refused to talk to Dumbledore about his trepidations, and she had finally decided that she needed to take matters into her own hands. Earlier that day she had asked Harry for permission to borrow his invisibility cloak so she could see if there were any books in the restricted section of the library that would help him find a way to deal with the dragons. He had raised his eyebrows and mimicked Hermione's distaste for rule breaking, but in the end he had handed over the cloak and Marauder's Map and thanked her for helping him.
Now it was ten o'clock, and Hermione was beginning to have second thoughts about sneaking out at night to talk to Dumbledore. She would have preferred to visit him during the day, but the three times she had tried to speak with him between classes, she had been informed that he was out of his office and would not be back until the evening. She couldn't just keep waiting until she had the good luck to show up at a time that he was there, she told herself. She knew he would be there tonight, so what better time to speak with him? After all, Professor Dumbledore would surely forgive her breaking the rules to warn him that Voldemort might be closer than ever. Best to go now, before she changed her mind.
Hermione got up from her seat in the common room, told Harry that it would probably take her a while in the library, and no, he didn't need to wait up for her, and yes, he should keep going through everything they'd learned to see if he found any ideas, and that no, "Wingardium Leviosa" would probably not be enough to save him this time. She pulled the Maurauders' Map from her pocket, quietly muttering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," and quickly scanned the map, smiling as she saw that Dumbledore was in his office and that Filch was nowhere near Gryffindor tower. She then glanced around to make sure no other students were watching, then threw the invisibility cloak over herself and left the room through the portrait hole, grinning as she saw that the Fat Lady was having tea with a gentleman that she recognized from a portrait near the runes classroom.
Hermione walked swiftly through the dark corridors of the school, stopping and pressing herself against the wall several times as she saw names approaching hers on the map. As the sound of their footsteps died away, she resumed her quick pace and continued until she reached the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office. Hermione reached up to remove the cloak, but froze as she heard muffled voices coming from the office.
Someone else must have made it here before me, Hermione thought. I guess they just got here, or I would have seen their name on the map. Well, I might as well stay here while I wait for them to leave.
Hermione sat down against the wall and stared at the gargoyle for a few moments, letting her thoughts drift to her History of Magic class. I wonder if we'll learn about gargoyles… maybe I should look for something about them in the library. After all, they're so prominent in Muggle architecture too….
As Hermione waited, her thoughts eventually turned to homework, then to the Triwizard Tournament, and eventually back to her present location. Realizing that her legs were beginning to feel cramped, she stood up and stretched, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn.
It must have been fifteen minutes already. I wonder what's taking so long? It couldn't hurt to find out; I'll just listen long enough to know whether I should give up and come back later. With this justification, she raised her wand to her ear and muttered "Audivius." Hermione flinched slightly as the conversation rose in volume from a mere mumble to the sound of two normal-pitched voices. After looking around quickly to reassure herself that the speakers actually still were in the office, she sat back down against the wall to listen.
"…said that you needed no more proof of my motives. You even testified to the ministry in my favor. I thought your questions had been answered."
Hermione's eyebrows crept up her forehead. The cold, quiet voice clearly belonged to Professor Snape. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, trying to decide whether it was right for her to listen or not. Three years ago she would never have dared to eavesdrop on a private conversation between two professors, but her mistrust of Snape and her curiosity would not allow her to pass up this opportunity. With an inward apology to the headmaster, she continued to listen as Snape's voice was replaced by Dumbledore's apologetic one.
"I was satisfied that even if what you said was untrue, with Voldemort out of the picture, your self-serving nature would ensure your continued loyalty to me. You were wise enough to stay out of Azkaban when others were not. You knew that when your side lost power, your only hope at survival, never mind power, was to repent, and you have done so most impressively."
Hermione bit back a gasp. She had always thought of Professor Snape as sadistic, unreasonable, and morbid, but her tendency to think the best of teachers would have never even let her consider the possibility of him being a Death Eater. But she could not find any other explanation for what Professor Dumbledore had just said, and Snape's next words only confirmed it.
"I see. You never needed to believe me in full, only enough to make me worthy of a second chance. To you, everyone on 'my side,' every Death Eater, is just a good person gone wrong." Snape's voice had decreased in volume, but it had an edge to it that she had only heard once before; when he and Sirius Black had confronted each other in the Shrieking Shack. The usual cruelty that Snape laced his words with had been replaced by actual anger, although Hermione suspected that if she could see his face, it would look just as impassive as always. Hermione expected Dumbledore to object to Snape's accusations, but he remained silent and waited for Snape to speak again.
"And, pray tell, if I were not loyal to you, why is it that I told you that the mark is getting darker? Why would I not simply leave and rejoin my master?" The last three words were spit out with so much venom that Hermione flinched. Dumbledore, however, seemed unfazed.
"I need proof, Severus." When Dumbledore finally spoke, his voice sounded as weary as though he had spent the last several nights worrying over the possibility of Voldemort's return. Hermione suspected that he had, and suddenly felt foolish for assuming that Harry's dreams would actually contain anything that would surprise the headmaster.
Snape's voice drew Hermione back out of her self-reflection. "Use the Imperius, then. Or, if it would suit your manners better, I have a flask of Veritaserum in my closet that can satisfy your curiosity." The anger was gone from Snape's voice, replaced by a resigned sharpness.
"Use Veritaserum on a potions master?" Dumbledore chuckled faintly. "My boy, have you forgotten that I was the one who trained you to resist Veritaserum? No, Severus. I need your memories."
Snape's momentary silence indicated that he was as taken aback by the request as Hermione was. After several seconds of strained silence, Snape spoke again, sarcasm concealing any emotions he was actually feeling.
"Do you have specific ones in mind, or should I begin with the moment I became self-aware?"
"Begin when you would like. All I need to know is who Severus Snape truly is, and why he has chosen the path that he has. I do not ask that you show me everything, only enough for me to rest assured that when Lord Voldemort does return, I can still trust you." Hermione heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and one of the men taking several steps before Professor Dumbledore spoke again. "You may use my pensieve. Take as much time as you need. I am off to the kitchens to see if there are any of those pastries left from supper. Feel free to let yourself out when you have finished."
Hermione heard footsteps approaching and jumped to her feet, quickly dispelling the hearing charm. As Dumbledore passed her with a grim look on his face, she abandoned all thought of mentioning Harry's dreams to him tonight. After all, didn't his conversation with Professor Snape indicate that he already was aware of Voldemort's imminent return? Hermione decided to head back to the Gryffindor tower and tell her friends what she had overheard, but as she walked back down the corridor, the gargoyle blocking the entrance to Dumbledore's office moved again and Snape slowly walked out, looking more drained than she had ever seen him. His lips were pursed, his face pale, and his eyes looked frighteningly empty. Hermione hesitated for a moment, then, suddenly tempted by curiosity, walked quickly over to the gargoyle and slipped into Professor Dumbledore's office before the gargoyle could move back. Snape showed no sign of having heard her footsteps, and as soon as the gargoyle slid back into position, Hermione removed the invisibility cloak, slid it into her pocket, and walked over to the pensieve.
Pensieves were not among the rarest items in the wizarding world, but they were certainly not something students would have access too. Curious, Hermione looked in and saw a shimmering, pale liquid that seemed to flow around in odd currents. Assuring herself that it was nothing more than academic curiosity, she prodded the liquid with her wand and then gasped as human shapes seemed to appear in the liquid. Leaning in closer to the surface, she saw that one of the figures appeared to be Professor Snape. Unable to make out the other two people in the liquid, she leaned even further in, and then screamed as she suddenly found herself falling forward.
The fall only lasted a couple seconds, but Hermione found herself in a completely different room. The walls were empty aside from chipped paint and the only piece of furniture in the room was a fading gray sofa. As she looked around, she realized that there were three other people in the room, none of whom had noticed her falling in. With a start, Hermione realized that she had fallen into a memory, and that like it or not, she was now intruding in Snape's past. Looking more closely at the three people in the room, she realized that the person she had thought to be Snape was actually not him at all. The eyes and nose were the same, but even though he was around the same age as Professor Snape, his face was red and contorted in a horrible, mocking laugh that she could never imagine Snape wearing. As this man stepped forward, she saw that he was so drunk he couldn't walk straight, confirming her conclusion that this was not her professor.
"I have had enough of your… your… creepy little games!" the man yelled at the woman in the room, who was backing into a corner as far away from the drunk man as she could get. "This… hocus pocus… it's not fair! Why does a stupid slut like you get to, to do this… magic stuff?"
In another situation, the man's slurred speech and unfocused eyes would have been comical, but it seemed that his wife had seen him in drunk rages many times before and feared them. She backed into the corner, looking down at the floor, with her wand hanging loosely in her hand.
Use it! Hermione wanted to scream at her as the man walked closer to her, yelling obscenities. Muggle or not, you have a right to protect yourself!
But the woman never raised her wand. As the man got within a meter of where she was standing, she looked up, and Hermione saw nothing but resignation in her face. No anger, no fear, no compassion. Her husband, perhaps even more infuriated by this lack of emotional display, snarled, grabbed her shoulders, and slammed her against the wall behind him. As her head hit the wall, the woman gave a faint cry before collapsing, unconscious.
It was only now that Hermione's attention was drawn to the third person in the room, who she now saw was a child of about seven years. The boy let out a sob as his mother's head hit the wall and ran over to her, tears streaming down his face.
"Mom…" he wailed, trying to lift her back up. "Mom!" The boy shot a furious glare back at his father.
With a shock, Hermione realized that this boy must be Professor Snape. And he was crying? The glare on the boy's face looked familiar, but she had never seen the adult Snape show compassion for anyone. With wide eyes, she continued to watch the scene in front of her, suddenly feeling ashamed of her intrusion into her professor's privacy.
"And you… little brat…" Now Snape's father was advancing on him, jabbing a menacing finger in his direction. "Spawn of the witch." The man laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. "Get out. Go… go to your room." When Snape didn't move, his eyes narrowed. "Now!" Snape, still crouched protectively beside his mother, spat at his father. The two glared at each other for a moment, then Snape's father grabbed the boy, holding him away from his body so his flailing limbs could do no damage, and dragged him upstairs. Hermione followed the two, sickened by the scene and wishing that she could intervene in some way. As his father threw him into his room, the boy's body hit the floor hard, and he began to sob as his father slammed the door and returned downstairs, still swearing. Snape crawled to his bed, still crying, but with more rage than pain in his eyes. He bowed his head, pulled his fingers through his long hair, and started to rock back and forth, muttering. Leaning closer, Hermione was disturbed to hear him repeating the words "I'll kill you, I'll kill you" over and over again.
Torn between feelings of pity for the boy and fear of what he would become, Hermione forgot for a moment that this was her professor. The boy resembled Professor Snape in appearance, but she had never before thought of the man as having emotions, having ever been a child, or even as being human. And now she was looking at him at his most vulnerable, wanting to comfort him. Forgetting that she was only an observer in a memory, she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder…
And she was suddenly back in the first room she had seen, looking at a slightly older Snape and his two parents. By the looks of things, Snape's father was once again angry and drunk.
"You two went off and did your horrible… magic stuff, and I'm stuck here working out an honest living? I'm sure these books and cauldrons and wands cost a pretty penny!" Hermione glanced over at Snape and his mother and saw that it did look as though that had just returned from a trip to Diagon Alley. Snape was holding his new wand tight in his hand as though it was his most treasured possession, and Hermione smiled slightly, remembering how excited she had been when she bought her wand.
Oblivious to how his son must have felt, the father continued to shout. "And now you're telling me that this worthless boy here is going to go to a school where you learn to… to make love potions and turn people into frogs instead of making real money? You'll always be worthless, then. Not even going to help your father support the family, eh? You lazy, good for nothing, worm."
Hermione looked at Snape, but instead of seeing tears this time, she saw the passive expression that she saw every time she walked into the potions classroom. If the boy even felt the sting of his father's insults, he was not going to give his father the satisfaction of seeing his pain.
Further infuriated by the lack of response, Snape's father snarled and turned on his wife instead. "And you! I can't believe that you're going to let him do all of this! I should never have married you, you useless witch! You ruined my life! You spent all my money, you spawned this… boy, and you can't even keep my house clean! I don't know why I haven't thrown you out, you pathetic waste of a person!" The man advanced on his wife, fist raised, but Hermione, who was watching the young Snape, saw one of his eyebrows twitch. Snape hesitated for barely a moment, then raised his wand and thrust it toward his father with murder in his eyes. The older man flew backwards into the wall and then crumpled to the ground with a sickening crack. His wife ran over to him in fear, trembling as she raised her own wand and started frantically trying to cast healing spells.
"What have you done, Severus?" she wailed.
Severus looked at his mother with a mixture of shock, pity and disgust. "Tried to help you," he muttered too quietly for her to hear. He watched her for a minute, than ran up to his room. Hermione followed him and watched as the young Snape threw all of his new wizarding items in a trunk along with several pairs of worn out muggle clothes. After packing, Snape looked around the room one last time, then returned downstairs.
"I'm leaving. The train to Hogwarts leaves in a week. I doubt that I will see you again." Snape looked as though he wanted to say more to her, but seeing that she was still sobbing over his father and hadn't even heard a word he was saying, his expression of compassion turned to one of revulsion. Without another word, he turned and left the house, dragging his trunk with him.
Once again, the memory dissolved into another, but this time, King's Cross Station had replaced the Snapes' house. Hermione looked around the busy station, trying to find Snape among the crowd. By the number of families with owls and adults looking in awe at the electrical lighting in the station, Hermione gathered that this was the day the Hogwarts Express would be leaving. But this was Snape's memory, so he had to be here somewhere, and Hermione stood on tiptoe, still searching for him. Before she could find him herself, Hermione heard a girl's voice call out, "Severus!"
Hermione spun around and saw a girl with long red hair and green eyes running across the hall. Following her, Hermione saw that she was indeed running toward Snape, who appeared to have fallen asleep in a corner of the station with his head and arms draped over his trunk.
"Severus!" the girl called again, and Snape jumped, opening his eyes and blinking them quickly. As his eyes focused, he looked up and smiled in relief as he saw the girl, who was looking at him with a worried expression. "Lily," he said contentedly.
Hermione stared at Snape's face, dumbstruck. I think that's the only time I've ever seen him smile. He looks so… sweet, smiling at her like that... Merlin's beard, I can't believe I just thought that Professor Snape looked sweet! But it's true! Frowning at the thought of her professor having a human side, Hermione turned her attention back to the scene in front of her.
Lily was looking at Snape in confusion as he stood up and picked up his trunk. "Come on, we've got to go. I've been watching other students, and you just need to walk through this pole to get to platform nine and three quarters." Lily grabbed Snape's hand and led him to the platform, with her parents and sister following the two warily. Lily and Snape went through first, and before her parents could follow, Lily turned to Snape and asked, "How come you were sleeping in the corner?"
Snape was staring past Lily and didn't seem to hear her. Lily frowned and followed his gaze to a corner where a pale woman dressed in all black glared back at her. Looking down ashamedly, she turned to Severus, but he was walking toward the woman in the corner, and after a moment, Lily gasped as she noticed the resemblance between the two. After watching them for a second, she scurried back to her family to say goodbye.
Hermione followed Snape over to his mother, watching as the boy stopped awkwardly in front of her, not knowing what to say. His mother looked down on him in silence for a few minutes, pursing her lips as she assessed her son. Finally, she broke the tense silence. "Your father is in St. Mungo's. He should be fine, but he will probably have to stay there for at least another week, since none of the healers have managed to figure out precisely what you cast on him." The woman's tone was pure ice, showing no sympathy for her son. "You are not to return to our house for the holidays, nor for the summer. If you are not allowed to remain at Hogwarts, find somewhere else to go."
With that, she nodded stiffly at Snape and disapparated, leaving the boy staring in shock at where his mother had been a moment ago. Hermione felt an overwhelming wave of pity for the boy who had been so completely cast away for trying to protect his mother. She watched him as he bit his lip and clenched and unclenched his fists. Looking up at his face, she saw that his eyebrows were set in an angry line, but that he was blinking his eyes rapidly to fight off his threatening tears. Once again Hermione was filled with the strange urge to comfort this younger version of her professor, but as she reached out to him him, her hands passed right through his body as he turned away and started walking toward Lily, wiping his eyes and attempting to transform his expression into a smile.
The memory shifted again. Snape and Lily were sitting on the Hogwarts Express, talking excitedly about school starting and about which house they would be placed in. One of the boys sitting nearby joined the conversation, and for a moment Hermione thought that Harry had somehow fallen into the pensieve too, but she quickly realized that it was James and that the boy next to him was Sirius Black. Suddenly feeling awkward about intruding in the past of not just her potions' professor, but also her best friend's father and godfather, Hermione started looking around to try to figure out how to leave the pensieve. Seeing nothing that indicated a way out, Hermione took her wand out, but hesitated, afraid that she would do more damage than good. It wouldn't do to get stuck in here… especially since no one knows where I am. And what if I cast a spell that ends up damaging one of the memories? Do memories that are placed in a pensieve remain in the person's head? And what happens if they get damaged? I can't risk anything… damn! I should have read more about pensieves! Silently cursing herself and vowing to read more about memories in the near future, Hermione sat down, watching as Snape and James traded barbs.
After only a few minutes, the scene changed again, and Hermione found herself in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The first year students were being sorted. As Hermione watched, Lily Evans' name was called, and Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that this girl who appeared to be friends with Snape was none other than Harry's mother. As Lily was sorted into Gryffindor and Snape into Slytherin, Hermione saw the two exchange sad looks, and she suddenly felt a surge of curiosity about the friendship between the two. The thought of Snape having close friends is just strange… but I suppose he has to. Everyone does. But especially a Gryffindor? Haven't Gryffindors and Slytherins always avoided each other? And Harry's mother? I mean, James and Snape hated each other, from what Sirius said. I would have thought that Lily would have felt the same way as James.
Apparently she didn't. The memory dissolved into another, and as Hermione looked around, she realized that she was in the potions classroom. Yet somehow the room seemed much less intimidating: it was better lit and had friendly looking paintings on the walls. Stunned by the difference a few small changes could make to a room, she didn't notice the large man behind her until he stepped straight through her. Hermione jumped and shivered slightly. This pensieve thing is really unnerving. I wonder if that's how ghosts feel if living people walk through them. Rubbing her arms to fend off her sudden chill, Hermione took a seat next to Snape and Lily, who were both looking at the professor anxiously, waiting for him to begin.
"Good afternoon!" said the man, rubbing his hands and smiling happily at the students in his classroom. "My name is Professor Slughorn, and it is to be my pleasure to teach you all the fine art of potion making."
Staring at the man with wide eyes, Hermione could hardly believe that he was the potions professor at Hogwarts. It would be nearly impossible to find anyone more different than the man who taught Hermione the subject, and who was now watching Professor Slughorn with vivid interest. Looking back and forth between them, Hermione couldn't stop herself from smirking. Professor Slughorn was everything that Professor Snape wasn't. As he paced around the classroom, his stomach wobbled beneath his robes and his eyes crinkled happily. When he took attendance, he even made fun of himself for mispronouncing a student's name, causing the entire class to laugh. I wonder what potions would be like with him teaching instead of Professor Snape. I'm sure Neville wouldn't be so petrified all the time. It would have been nice if Professor Snape had taken more pointers from him. The part of Hermione that insisted on her never thinking poorly of her professors sprung up inside her at that point. How can you say that? You haven't even seen how he is as a teacher. His warmth won't get his students any N.E.W.T.S. Besides, didn't Professor Snape save Harry in your first year? It's a good thing that he is here instead of Professor Slughorn, or your best friend could be dead.
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Hermione looked over to where Snape and Lily were sitting. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Snape scowling over his potion, flipping unsurely through the textbook. But he's supposed to be an expert! Didn't it come naturally to him? Hermione's surprise grew as she saw Lily look over at him, smile, and then point out a line in the book. Snape's eyes narrowed, and for a moment Hermione was afraid that he was going to snap at Lily for correcting him, but he only nodded, looking down, and mumbled a quiet "thanks" to Lily, returning to his potion. She merely smiled back, apparently unfazed by his not entirely friendly reaction.
As the class period continued, Hermione's faith in her potions professor was restored. When it was time to add mandrake root to their potions, Snape noticed that Lily was having trouble cutting hers into the right size pieces, and he demonstrated how to do it. The girl caught on quickly, smiling her appreciation at Snape. He blushed shyly and looked away, seemingly not used to gratitude. Or was the blush something else? As the class continued, Hermione watched the pair, and she noticed that they would steal glances at each other when the other was absorbed in work.
Did they… have a crush on each other? Hermione's train of thought was suddenly interrupted when she felt a hand being lowered onto her shoulder from behind. Shocked and terrified at the realization that the hand hadn't passed through her as all the memory people had, she whirled around, eyes widening in panic as she saw Headmaster Dumbledore standing behind her with a grave expression on his face.
"Headmaster! I…" Hermione trailed off, unsure of what to say to justify her presence in her Professor's memories. Dumbledore shook his head at her, clearly not expecting her to have a worthwhile explanation for her actions.
"Come with me," the headmaster said in a flat tone, taking Hermione's hand. Dumbledore raised his wand and muttered a spell under his breath. Hermione caught one last glimpse of Lily and Snape smiling as Professor Slughorn expressed his approval of their potions before the scene became blurry and faded to black. Hermione felt a strange stretching sensation as she was pulled out of her professor's memories and back to Dumbledore's office in the present.
Turning around to face the headmaster, Hermione had to draw on all her courage to make eye contact, wishing she could just disappear back under the invisibility cloak instead. It would almost have been easier if Dumbledore had been angry, but as he took a seat behind his desk, his face revealed nothing except disappointment in the school's brightest student.
"Miss Granger," he began, "I know that pensieves are intriguing inventions, and this one surely would be expected to pique the curiosity of someone with as much intellectual curiosity as yourself. However, I assume that you now realize how personal their contents can be, and I truly hope that you understand the severity of what you have done." The headmaster gazed calmly at her through his glasses, the creases in his forehead and hid downturned lips reinforcing his sad tone.
Hermione looked at him in shame, blinking her eyes to ward off the tears that she felt threatening to grow. She had always followed the rules, except to help Harry, and she certainly hadn't wanted to invade Snape's privacy. No, yes you did. You wanted to see why Dumbledore should trust him and find out for yourself whose side he was on. Ignoring the traitorous thought, Hermione thought back to why she had come to Dumbledore's office in the first place, trying to at least partially justify her actions.
"I'm sorry, sir, I just wanted to speak with you about Harry… he had a dream about… about You-Know-Who, and his scar has been hurting him. I'm really worried about him, and… I just thought you should know." The words sounded like a pathetic attempt at an excuse even to Hermione herself. Fidgeting nervously, she continued. "I saw Professor Snape leaving, so I came up to wait for you, and then I saw the pensieve. I had read about them, so I went over to take a closer look, and I… fell in. I tried to get back out once I realized what had happened, but I didn't know what to do, and I was afraid that I would hurt something if I tried experimenting." Hermione looked down at her feet, her cheeks red with shame. "I'm sorry, Headmaster."
Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair, adjusting his glasses with one hand. "Unfortunately, it is not to me that you owe an apology." Raising his hand to cut Hermione off as she glanced up at him in terror and opened her mouth, he added, "but perhaps it will be better if Professor Snape does not learn of this." Hermione exhaled in relief. Dumbledore's frown deepened as he continued. "Do not mistake my leniency for acceptance of your actions. I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Granger. But alerting Professor Snape to your new knowledge would unnecessarily pain both of you." Dumbledore stared at Hermione in silence for a long moment, letting her feel his disappointment. Hermione looked down at the carpet, once again feeling the tears growing in her eyes.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore called again, prompting her to look back up at him. "I should not even need to say this, but I wish to make it clear: you shall tell no one what you saw tonight. Not Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley, and not even any of your professors. Do you understand me?" Hermione nodded in shame.
Of course I won't tell anyone! How could I? I feel awful just knowing what I know myself… Professor Snape never even reveals a single emotion, so I can only imagine that having anyone know any of his secrets would be his worst nightmare. Keeping this all secret is the least I can do.
Dumbledore's frown relaxed slightly as he continued in a kinder voice. "Good. Now, return to your dormitory. And, Miss Granger," he added as she turned to leave, "Thank you for telling me about Mr. Potter's scar. I shall keep that in mind."
Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and walked out of the headmaster's office as quickly as she could without running. Once outside, she threw the invisibility cloak over herself and walked quickly back to Gryffindor tower, her thoughts spinning feverishly between Snape's memories, the conversation between the two professors, and her own guilt at her intrusion.
Hermione didn't get much sleep that night. Every time she managed to still her thoughs for long enough to drift off, she was haunted by dreams in which she would reach out to comfort the young Snape only to have him suddenly transform into her terrifying potions professor and start yelling at her for invading his privacy. When it was finally time for her to get up and go to breakfast, she got dressed and gathered her textbooks, still feeling depressed, ashamed, and exhausted.
"Morning, Hermione," Harry said as she sat down to join him at the Gryffindor table.
"Morning," she replied half-heartedly, spooning some porridge into a bowl without really noticing what she was doing and spilling some in her orange juice by accident.
Harry took in her tired appearance and lowered his voice, looking around to make sure the other students nearby were engaged in conversations of their own.
"So, did you have any luck last night?" he asked hopefully, and Ron surreptitiously leaned closer to hear Hermione's answer, trying to look as though he wasn't at all interested in Harry's predicament.
Last night? Luck? What… Oh! Right, I said I'd look for something to help him get past the dragon. Oh no, what kind of horrible friend am I? I should have done that after going to Dumbledore's office, but I just couldn't after what I saw! But now Harry will have to face the dragon unprepared…
Inwardly cursing herself, Hermione grimaced. "Sorry, Harry, I tried every book I could think of, but nothing sounded like it would be able to take down a dragon. I'll go back there right after breakfast to try some more…" She trailed off as Harry's hopeful expression faded into worry.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she added miserably, wishing she had spent the night the way she had promised to instead of going to Dumbledore.
Harry shook his head and smiled at her in reassurance. "It's okay, Hermione. I know you did your best. Besides, I am supposed to do the task alone. I'll figure something else out."
Hermione feigned a grateful smile, feeling terrible. No, Harry, I didn't do my best. I let my best friend down. She finished eating her breakfast as quickly as she could and immediately took off for the library, planning to skip classes if necessary so she could find some book that would help Harry.
Later that day, relief finally overcame Hermione's guilt when Harry burst into the Gryffindor common room, excitedly asking her to help him with summoning charms.