These characters are not mine. I gain nothing but personal satisfaction from writing this.

Feathers in Time

Chapter Ten

Hermione was surprised on the warmth that came from the connection of their minds. The magic flowed against the barriers keeping her private thoughts and feelings to herself, merely moving through them, over them. Hermione knew exactly what she wanted to show him first. It was the reason she began to truly become aggressive in her research. Forsaking relationships. Forgoing promotions until she could effectively have an entire department under her guidance. Severus didn't know why he thought Hermione wouldn't have her mind in perfect order. A silly thought when he considered the know-it-all.

He had also figured she would start with something important but not intrusive, but looking around the dank and untamed darkness, he recognized his childhood home. She would want it in order, for the whole story. His childhood was not good, and that is exactly where she started in her assessment of his character, and how he became the man he is.

Hermione was standing next to him, watching her young face morph from confusion and fear to anger and worry as a scream echoed from the desolate home. He knew this night. It was the first time he stood in front of his mothers cowering body, challenging his father. He held love for his mother, like any little boy does yet as he looked back, realized his mother was cold and unaffectionate. Hermione moved the scene into the front room, following the little boys vision. "Professor Snape was a small malnourished little one." Hermione's voice was jarring in the silence.

The boy pushed into his house, and Hermione gasped at the dark horror of his past. His mother, curled against a threadbare sofa, pregnant body pressed to the cushions. A dark man, standing over her, removing his belt in quick motions. His mother barely looked at him as his father pulled him into the house and tossed his body into the hall. Hermione gasped and turned to face the door jam, hiding from the terror she felt in her, knowing deep down that it was going to get worse. Severus watched her hand catch the markings on the frame, each one a little higher than the last. Little numbers marked in. Her fingers stopped on the highest one, the height of the boy getting to his feet in the hall. He was six, when this happened. Hermione took a deep breath and faced the room with determination.

"Oh god no. Please don't." Hermione's voice was trembling in fear and uncertainty. She pulled herself out of the memory, and Severus went to the next. It was the same scene, and Hermione looked much more determined, if a little changed. Her eyes caught a jaded apathy, looking at the little boy that he was. The scene was not something he would have thought her to come back to. He would have to ask why.

The little Severus had put himself between his mother and his father. Arms stretched wide and a look of self righteous determination, a scrap of a boy in front of a six foot man. Hermione seemed to inch forward, looking angrier by the second. "Don't you fucking dare!" Hermione's scream didn't startle Severus this time. The increasing desperation on the girls face was blatant. This was difficult to watch, but after that fucking belt came down the first time, and her screams echoed.

"What have I fucking told you, you disgusting freak?!" Even as his father screamed and hit his body, he watched Hermione, rather than the scene before him. He understood the fear of standing up against an evil you can't hope to fight. His father continued to scream obscenities at his son. As he watched her, the moment seemed to take its toll on her, her body jerking when his father landed another hit but her lips silent. Severus almost didn't continue watching, but felt compelled to see if she finished as well, what she stomached to understand him. The young boy was curled against his mothers legs taking deep sobbing breaths as his father finished drinking his beer. Pacing erratically, sweating and beginning to rave about how everybody hates him, he does everything for their family.

Hermione seemed to shake herself together, low mumbling and fists balled up tight but eyes focused. He nodded, proud. She would need it for this night.

Severus opened his eyes to see the stoic face of Hermione, her eyes trailing after his, giving nothing away. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms with the thought of how much she likely knew about him. Never had he thought someone would find a way to view every memory he had ever stored, however briefly, in his pensive. All things considered, this bright witch of a woman would be the one to figure it out. Schooling and swottyness aside, this woman is someone he knew could understand all that she had seen. Not once, since the first memory, did he feel her produce anything even close to pity for him.

Hermione wasn't watching him, keeping her eyes on the floor, that same jaded look haunting her visage. "Hermione, I would like to thank you." Her head snapped up so fast, Severus had to use all of his will power not to laugh. "With the deep connection of our minds, I was able to truly feel how you reacted, and I wish to thank you for not..."

Hermione heard the hesitancy in Severus' gruff tone. "Pitying you?" His head jerked in a nod. "Now, from your time in my head, I assume you have questions for me."

Severus gave a appreciative head tilt, not ignoring her academic tone and demeanor. She looked at him now, as a peer, and Severus would be hard pressed to see you as little else. "Why did you return to the first memory? Why did you not just move forward?"

"I can honestly say that while it took me quite a few months to come to grips with what I was afraid I would be seeing." She paused and her shoulders slumped. "It wasn't until after I went to see Harry that I knew I needed to understand you."

"Potter?"

"Yes, he had some... Insight. I had scaled the experience of horror from one to ten, so as not to reveal any of your past. Harry's revelations put him at a five in comparison " At Severus' dubious look she sighed. "Harry was abused for much of his childhood as well. When he and I felt that his horrors were inadequate to prepare me for yours, he sent Malfoy to my office."

"Draco?"

The brunette shook her head with a faint smile. "No, Lucius." Severus drew in a tight breath, unable to fathom what could have possibly happened in the future for this woman to be smiling at memories with Lucius Malfoy. "He gave me a few of his own childhood memories and talked me through them. Again, when I had scaled the feelings associated, Lucius was at a seven. I found a note from Dumbledore that I had not expected to when I went to the Hogwarts Library and read a bunch of books that I felt I could find the right person to interview. It only said 'there was a second spy.' in a book about the taking care of Hogwarts. Then I remembered every moment I had spent with the man, and it all fell into place."

"Who did you decide on?"

"Argus Filch." Black eyes swept up to hers, confusion on his face. "He was cleaning up the hall outside the Library when I realized it. Dumbledore's spy, within the halls of Hogwarts. All of the years he spent at Hogwarts, just like Hagrid, and he showed every sign that you had. Terrorizing children, being a generally untrustworthy character, but coming through more than ever when it counted."

Severus was angry that he had never figured it out himself. Of course he was, that was the only thing that truly made sense in the scheme of things. "And I suppose he showed you much worse than anything of mine?"

"Not at all Severus. He didn't show me anything, though we spoke for hours after I confronted him that I knew. He told me what to expect when it came to the feelings. However, he refused to show me any of what he had endured as a child. He is a very good man."

"Yes, he is." Severus, for one, would not have shown her any of the horrors that wait in his memories. She had been through more than enough, to take on that much more..."Hermione, why did you skip my memories of Lily?"

Severus watched her face go from being open and academic to nothingness. Completely blank. "I would have to ask you not to ask me that, sir. I know you would not like the answer."