Chapter 1

Not All Is Lost

"All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield."

"Got nightmares again?"

Harry jumps at her question and stares befuddled at her for a moment. "Oh, yeah."

Lately, he looks paler every morning. She runs her hand through his hair, which is messier than ever. The locks she twists around her fingers feel dry and have lost their shine. "You should really eat something."

Harry hums from behind his glass of pumpkin juice, which he holds before his face as a tiny shield that fends off small talk.

Ron turns to them from across the table, and leans forward to whisper. "There's no use forcing him to eat. I doubt having You-Know-Who trying to worm his way into your head is appetising."

Hermione nods stiffly, although she still thinks Harry should eat, appetite or not. But Ron knows more than she does, in this case. He is there with Harry at night, helping him through the visions, which Hermione can't. She is glad that Ron takes care of Harry when she can't, and that he stays awake with Harry as much as he can. She is more grateful for it than Harry himself is, as he insists that Ron should just get his sleep.

"I know that, technically, not sleeping means he can't do anything to you in your sleep, but you're much more vulnerable throughout the day like this. And you can't really just stop sleeping at all. Besides, dozing off doesn't seem to be much safer than actual sleep."

"Thanks for pointing that out again, Hermione," Harry grumbles.

So she might have already pointed this out once or twice, but she doesn't believe he's actually listening to her. And next to being in more danger, Harry is not exactly easy to handle when utterly sleep deprived.

"Harry, I know it's hardest on you but, at least if you could Occlude your mind-"

"I'm not asking Snape," Harry suddenly snaps, drawing the attention of a few other students. Harry pushes his untouched breakfast plate away, drops his head on the table with a faint thud, and groans.

"Hermione's got a point though," Ron says, and bites in an apple. It's not exactly appetising to see him continue talking whilst chewing, but Hermione lets him, perhaps merely because he said she had a point. "You and Snape get angry at each other all the time, and you couldn't stand him any better before this. What did he do that is so bad you wouldn't possibly want to return to him?"

The glare he receives in return is enough of a reply.

"Alright so he's a real git, but he's not out to murder you. Or at least not as much as You-Know-Who is. Facing an asshole doesn't sound as bad as having You-Know-Who in your head."

Harry never went into detail about what happened the last time he had an Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape. Could it be that Professor Snape had crossed the line with Harry in a way he was uncomfortable with sharing with them? But, just like Ron said, what can be more important than learning how to keep He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named out of your mind? Hermione considered that perhaps Harry truly believed Professor Snape only made it worse, but Harry hadn't actually said anything in that direction. Just that they had had a fight, or something along those lines. And Hermione can't understand what she is supposed to make of that.

"Harry," she starts carefully, "We know that you're having a rough time, but aren't those tiresome lessons worth the protection in the end?"

Harry shoots up straight then, furious, as though she had struck him. "You know that I'm having a 'rough time'?" He says, leaning towards her so that she shifts away from him involuntarily. "You don't have a clue about what I'm going through."

She clenches her yaw to keep from snapping at him. Haven't they been trying to help him as best as they can? Hasn't he been confiding in them for years now? It's not her fault he keeps insisting they shouldn't, and it's not her fault that he doesn't tell them everything. She almost gets up herself as well, but students are already staring at them. "Well, if you would tell us, we could help." She hisses.

Harry grits his teeth, but luckily lowers his voice nonetheless. "Oh, right, because all the answers are probably either in the library! Tell me when you've found a book called 'How to Remove Voldemort from your Mind in 7 Easy Steps'!"

"Step One," She snaps and stands up, effectively making him shift back. "Go to Professor Snape and demand him to continue the lessons!"

Ron tries to shush them in vain. Harry only gives her an incredulous look. "If it's so important to you, why don't you ask him, huh? See how you like being locked up with him for hours in that cell of his!"

With that, Harry briskly gathers his stuff and storms off.

"Enter."

The door creaks briefly when she opens it. Professor Snape's Office, much like the rest of the dungeons, is poorly lit. A few candles throw long shadows over the rows of jars and bottles, making their contents appear to move. They may not be pretty, but the floating bits and pieces are mesmerising, and she is compelled to take a closer look at them. If only there were more light. And if only she wasn't here for other, more urgent reasons. Coming from the library, which is flanked by a wall of high windows, it's almost hard to discern the dark figure that is her teacher. It doesn't help that he is currently bent over some parchment, black hair obscuring his face, though she supposes he can see her. Last time she was here, she stole some of his ingredients, and even though it was years ago, it still makes her feel like a trespasser. She forces herself to stop fiddling with her sleeve and stares at the long parchment Professor Snape is busy with to keep herself from feeling guilty. The writing looks quite like slanted chicken scratch. She mentally takes back her comment when she sees it's his own handwriting. It's not the moment to be rude, even in her thoughts, she chastises herself. But it really looks a lot tidier on the chalkboard.

Finally, he finishes his lengthy sentence and straightens himself. Though he appears completely unsurprised, she is certain he has very few Gryffindor students entering his office. She panics slightly when he doesn't say anything. McGonagall always invites for tea and a biscuit when she enters her office, but he doesn't even acknowledge her. Then again, was she expecting him to? She clears her throat, and speaks.

"I've come to ask you something."

The steadiness of her own voice surprises her. Professor Snape however, merely raises an eyebrow. Not in a verbal mood, then. Just as she thinks that, he parts his lips and inhales slowly.

"Is it important?"

The question strikes Hermione as absurd. The mere fact that a student dares disturb him should be a dead giveaway. "Of course it is." What does he think? That her questions cannot possibly be important to him? Does he really think she wouldn't wait until next class with a question regarding some potion? Okay, truth be told, she has knocked on plenty teachers' doors to ask questions in between the lessons, but never for potions.

"Say that it isn't important after all," he drawls, leaning forward just slightly, "And I decide to take twenty house points for unnecessarily disturbing me," he pauses, raising his eyebrows in a challenge. "Is it still worth asking?"

Hermione inhales sharply. How dare he? Assume she comes to ask him for help with something trivial. She crosses her arms before her chest, but her frown doesn't have any effect on him at all. "Who is going to tell whether it's important or not?"

"Why, me of course." He looks almost amused. Almost.

"That's not fair!" she replies indignantly. As soon as the sentence is out, however, she realises that that does not particularly matter to Professor Snape.

"I don't have to be." He stresses each word carefully, and simultaneously his expression grows more impatient. "Now, unlike you, I do have important matters that require my attention. I will ask you only once before I-"

"I want you to teach me Occlumency," Hermione blurts.

For a few seconds, it's absolutely quiet between them.

"Have you lost your senses?" Professor Snape then snarls at her, rising from his chair. "Barging into my office and demanding to be taught-"

"It's not like that," she sputters, sensing that she has mere seconds left to change his mind. "I just thought that-"

"Clearly," he interrupts her, and moves around his desk to stand before her. "You are not thinking at all."

She takes a step back involuntarily, but then stubbornly keeps herself standing still, right in front of him. "That's not true!"

"Too bad you are just as thoughtless and arrogant as your friends when you can't make a book do the thinking for you-"

"Excuse you?" She snaps, and jams a finger into his chest. "I came here to ask you for help because I need it. And maybe Harry lost his temper and messed up, but I-"

"But you would never lose your temper, would you?" He grabs her wrist. The touch of his cold hand makes her gasp, and she realises what she did. She jammed her finger into a teacher's chest. Into Professor Snape's chest. And now his long fingers are clasped around her hand, and she is going to die.

Instead of dying, she gets her hand back with a huff. "Just as I said, thoughtless and arrogant."

She shakes her head. "I didn't mean to-"

"Truly," He interrupts her, and raises his hand to silence her upcoming protests. "I could not care any less about your intentions."

At the very least, their conversation has lowered in decibels. She licks her lips and straightens herself. "I'm aware that you absolutely don't have to teach me anything but potions. I'm asking you because we have no other choice but-"

"Who is we?"

Hermione frowns, as the answer is obvious. "Harry, Ron and I."

"Ah, there it is." He sneers, as though she just proved his point. "Potter is the one who needs Occlumency. Not you, not Mr Weasley."

She inhales sharply. "Yes. Exactly. Harry is the one who needs Occlumency." She can barely resist copying his sneer and pose, as he just proved her point. Professor Snape is much less pleased with her comeback.

"Potter had his chance, and he wasted it." He says coldly. Then he leans forward, and again Hermione resists the urge to step back. "So is this what he does now? Sending his friends to do the work for him? Such a great man."

It's nigh impossible for her to keep from shouting again. "Harry didn't want me to come here at all. I came here of my own accord." She clenches her hands into fists to keep herself from doing something she, and the entire house of Gryffindor, will undoubtedly regret.

Professor Snape crosses his arms, and his voice lowers dangerously. "Maybe, Potter himself should deal with the consequences of his actions for once."

Hermione is nearly shaking with anger now. "Don't you understand that he already is?" She yells, "You-Know-Who is trying to drive him insane or possess him or whatever, he barely eats or sleeps, and he's constantly afraid of seeing or feeling things he isn't supposed to see or feel. How can I possibly leave him alone in this?"

It grows very silent then, and she feels a little light in her head. Maybe Professor Snape really wants You-Know-Who to do it. Maybe he really isn't on their side. This fear, instead of freezing her, makes her feel oddly bold. Because she is right. She is doing what she should do.

"I'm only here," she continues confidently, despite her thin voice, "Because I want to help him, and because, honesty, I am one of the few who isn't bothered with teaching it from you."

"How brave," he grits through his teeth.

"If you don't want to help, that is your choice," she says before he can continue. "I believe, however, that we are all on the same side, and that to achieve success, we need each other's help."

Professor Snape parts his lips to say something, but then closes them again. His black eyes are piercing her, and she almost fears he's already trying to read her mind, although she doesn't feel anything different. She can't tell what he is thinking at all, and as the silence continues, she grows oddly uncomfortable.

"Leave."

She stiffens, and clenches her jaw to hold back an immediate protest. "Fine," is all she grunts as she turns around and leaves his office.

How dare he? How dare he claim to be on their side when, in the moment Harry needs him the most, he fails to help? How dare he even suggest that Harry should deal with this on his own? People were not made to deal with things on their own. That's why they have the Order of the Phoenix, and even why You-Know-Who has his Death Eaters! She stomps through the hallways, passing a few Slytherin students who watch her in surprise.

Please leave a comment if you liked this story! Critique is welcome too!

I am not native English. If you spot an error, do tell me :)