Once again the disclaimer:  I bow in awe of J.K. Rowling genius.  All characters and things in the Harry Potter world are hers. Please do not sue me.  I make no money and you would undoubted piss readers off if you delay in continuing the saga as we anxiously await your next book.  I have cited other fan fiction articles which have inspired me to incorporate their ideas in this story as well.  I encourage you to read them.  Please read and review. Thanks~ Leyna

Chapter 4: Revelation of Memory

Hermione retreated to the Gryffindor common room. She parents had sent along her bags after the incident and she was glad to at least have her own personal things there. She had hoped to be Head Girl, but perhaps Dumbledore knew what he was doing with he chose a Ravenclaw student. Hermione already had too much on her plate as is was. The duties of Head Girl might be too much for her in addition to her studies, extra projects, not to mention her adventures with her two mischievous friends Harry and Ron. But last year they had added others to that number. Neville had truly proved himself in the Ministry last year, as well as Ginny, and Luna Lovegood. It'd be hard to keep them out of the loop after all they had been through, and probably just as well. After all, they were all fighting this fight, not just her, not just Harry, and not all of them separately. It was vain for Harry to think he was alone—the Order had been fighting Voldemort since before they were born and that alone should be a great relief to them. She remembered the words of the Sorting Hat last year—"Unite inside her or crumble from within…"

She thought about all of these things before she drifted to sleep, without taking the sleeping potion Professor Snape had brewed for her. Before she knew it, her eyes popped open and she sat up abruptly with the feeling she was late. Her heart pounded in her chest as she searched for her clock, the Muggle clock she permitted herself in her room. It kept her sane, especially after using the time turner, she really preferred to be on Muggle time. Whew, 8:00.

She willed her heart to beat more slowly as she slowly got up and threw on her pale pink jogging suit. It was just daylight, and she preferred to run early before the temperature rose. She pulled on socks and running shoes and fastened her shoulder length hair back into a band on the back of her head. She splashed water on her face, patted it dry, grabbed her headphones and ran out of the common room down the stairs to the entrance. She had never jogged around Hogwarts before. Running was a pastime she had taken up over the summer, in part to control her weight that fluctuated too much for her comfort. Book reading and research are such sedentary occupations that she really began worrying about her figure. Defense Against the Dark Arts only burned so many calories and Quidditch wasn't her thing. After her visions began she started using the morning run to center herself, an active form of meditation and reflection.

Hermione Granger liked all types of music—opera, classical, rock, alternative, heavy metal, Rhythm and Blues, rap, soul, not country so much as folk. She especially preferred Latin and jazz- the greats, Ella Fitzgerald, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Joe Sample and others. She switched on her headphones, and stretched on the front steps. Diana Krall's new CD was in her player humming in her head.

She slowly began her run, the soft music drowning out the sounds of her feet hitting soft grass. S'wonderful, marvelous, that you should care for me…s'awfully nice paradise…Music was a side of Hermione Granger no one ever knew about, save her parents. That was a private pleasure she kept for herself. She started singing when shewas young and her mother noticed her talent right away, enrolling her in private lessons with a woman up the street. Perhaps that's where she had developed her fondness for jazz.

A year ago, her former teacher made an opportunity for her to sing in a nightclub, quiet, attended by regulars. Hermione quickly conquered any fear of singing in public. She was a natural. The crowd liked her right away astonished at the richness and fullness of her young voice. Jerry, the manager of The Fat Cat Lounge, had asked her to come back and paid her to perform on weekends throughout the summer. She smiled at the thought of returning. It was a great outlet for her, and she wondered if she could sneak out now that her Apparating license was within reach. That would make a great birthday. Breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out…she felt the ground absorb some of the shock as they hit the ground in rhythmic tempo with the music. I need a track. I wonder if I could transfigure one? After the last track played, she knew almost an hour had passed and ran back up the steps to stretch again. She was sweaty and red in the face. She used her sleeve to wipe off her brow and tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears as they had come loose from her ponytail.

Severus Snape approached the Great Hall silently as he pondered the upcoming meditation lesson with Granger. As he walked down the corridor, he vaguely noticed a pink something, running. Why would anyone run on purpose unless they were being chased? He was amused as he noticed and admired whoever could discipline themselves enough to run for sport. He preferred to exercise his mind. He hadn't really processed who had been running, but who else would it have been except-- Granger.

"Miss Granger," he drawled preparing to lecture. "You should be at breakfast, you will need your strength for you upcoming lessons." His voice was commanding, almost always taken as criticism or reprimand by students, as it often was. He rarely gave compliments and when he did, people rarely recognized them as such because of his tone. His clipped words made most students jump, but not Hermione.

"Good morning, Professor." She looked up at him from retying her shoelaces. He frowned inwardly, he always seemed to launch into his sentences before making simple greetings. "I'll make sure to eat something before our lesson." He glided into the Great Hall as Hermione half-jogged her way toward the Fat Lady, and guardian of Gryffindor tower. "Weasley's WildfireWhizbangs", she said and laughed to herself. The picture swung open. How appropriate that the password was one of the twins famous practical jokes from the Umbridge year.

She ran upstairs and stripped, running the water in the prefects bath while she brushed her teeth. She had barely unpacked and opened her trunk, pulling out her toiletries and cosmetic bag. She poured some bath salt in the water and slipped in. The salts were supposed to help relax tired muscles, but she had also added essential oils and other scents to the salt to make her skin smell more floral and less like menthol. She submerged and wetted her hair, mentally unhinging her muscles as she massaged her scalp. She truly attempted to keep her mind off school while she bathed. It was a sanctuary former.

Hermione rinsed and conditioned her hair and sighed as she could not shake the thought of what it would be like for Professor Snape to teach relaxation and mediation techniques. The tense Head of Slytherin House was not exactly the best role model. She'd have to get all of her giggles out up here-- if she laughed during class, he may never teach her again. She couldn't imagine that he'd studied meditation abroad.

Snape ruled his classes by fear of reprimand and in Neville's case, terror. His was strict taskmaster. A mere whisper from Snape brought most classes to a standstill. It had taken years to desensitize herself to his cutting remarks and insults. "I see no difference…" Even outside of the class he continued he preferential treatment of Slytherins and punished the rest of the houses by deducting house points for the stupidest things. How on earth could a bitter old fig of a wizard teach her the softer art of meditation?

He always seemed tense, or well, irate. She wondered how much more irritated he would be if he didn't meditate. She shuddered. 700points from Gryffindor for breathing too loud! Yeah, probably. She had attended yoga classes before and meditated briefly in those classes. Most work had been done on the floor, on mats.

She wondered what she should wear, and then decided to be comfortable, so she donned another suit she used to jog in sometimes, light blue pants and a short-sleeved white pullover. Simple, plain, serene. She pulled her soft brown curls back to the nape of her neck. Her hair had grown over the summer. She had intended to cut it but decided not to when she finally found some information on spells and options that could relax her wiry hair. She pulled out her school robes to put on over it. She did it at the last minute, expecting that Professor Snape may admonish her for not wearing appropriate school dress in a class.

It was now 9:30, and she ran to the kitchens to eat a peanut butter and banana sandwich. The elves had been grossed out by it, but were surprised to see how much she enjoyed it. She drank some water and hot tea before leaving for the Room of Requirement.

She walked back and forth concentrating on her needs in order to make the door appear. When she walked in, the room was bare and in neutral colors. The floor was rough wood and large straw mats adorned the floor. There were large screens and window with rice paper letting a bit of sunlight shine through (though that wasn't real, this was the Room of Requirement and what ever the users of the room needed was what it provided).She wondered if her and Professor Snape had different ideas of what the room needed, how the room decided what to provide.

The potions master was seated at the far end of the long room, legs crossed comfortably under him. His wrists were balanced on his knees and he was breathing deeply, eyes closed. "Miss Granger," he said slowly without moving or opening his eyes, "take a seat across from me." Snape wore a black well worn gi, the once stiff cotton relaxed from wear. She wondered if he took martial arts as well.

He peered out of the corner of his eye to notice her school robes, which she was swiftly removing to reveal her adequate choice of dress. He was relieved he wouldn't have to send the always-proper student back to her dorm to change. Hermione noticed his shoes at the foot of a paper screen and slipped hers off as well. She was relieved she had not painted her toes an outrageous color this summer, and instead wore buff. She would have greeted him, but chose to remain silent. The air was quite still save for the quiet padding of her feet on the unfinished wood floor.

She took a seat, crossed her legs and straightened her back. Hermione imagined a plumb line from the top of her head toward her pelvis and relaxed. She positioned her arms to mimic the professor, and awaited instruction. She noticed he said nothing. He looked less harsh when he meditated, fewer wrinkles, no sour expression distorting his face. The girl willed herself not to speak, closed her eyes, and instead focused on her breathing as he had been doing. After what must have been at least 5 minutes the professor still said nothing. When Hermione first began to feel the need to break the silence, she quickly returned to focusing on breathing, mind relaxed, free of expectation. She tried to become aware of the room, the mat, the air, the sound of her breath. She felt she was being tested, but tried to push that out of her mind. She remembered in the back of her mind why she was here, and her skin began to tingle a bit. He's looking at me. She opened her amber eyes quickly, staring straight in the black piercing gaze of Professor Snape.

"Very good, Miss Granger. I opened my eyes a moment before you. Have you done this before?" He asked in a low professorial voice.

"Yes sir, I took some classes in yoga over the summer, but really didn't spend a significant portion in meditation. I'm familiar with some of the concepts I've read."

"You posture is fine. What other classes have you taken?" Perhaps dance? Surely not.

She could see what he was getting at. "Tai Chi…Muggle self-defense classes."

He arched an eyebrow. "Tai Chi is not a Muggle art, Miss Granger…"

"I know, sir. I meant I took a self-defense class in addition to Tai Chi. The self defense class was something my mom and I took together at the local police station. Both involved periods of focus and relaxation, not quite measuring up to what I would expect us to accomplish, I-I m-mean me to accomplish here." Why did I say that? Stupid. He's already accomplished.

Snape ignored the error.

"The slow, rhythmic, deliberate," he stretched each word out to it's full length, "energy of Tai Chi will give you the correct frame of mind to succeed at meditation. Try not to blank out your mind but instead free it from the confines of thinking…your attempts to control what you think will only hinder you. As you focus your true thoughts to one point the others will become clearer and you will more easily release the hold they possess on you. Your thoughts and rigid thinking keep you in a box. Meditation removes those barriers and keeps you centered amid chaos." His eyes were again closed and he breathed deeply. His voice was soft and low, a velvet whisper of power. Hypnotic.

"Close your eyes. Focus on any points of light that you notice behind your eyelids."

She lost track of time. After what seemed minutes in actuality was forty minutes. Hermione was totally relaxed for what felt like the first time all summer. At home, she had busied her mind with worry of the return of Voldemort, NEWTS, OWLS grades, Harry's safety, Ron choosing an occupation, her new visions. Everything appeared manageable. In the present. She felt unthreatened.

Professor Snape interrupted her achieved state.

"You will focus on active forms of mediation which will promote awareness and connectedness to yourself as well as centering. Centering means you will work toward a calm state even in stressful or negative situations. I'm sure you can see why that would be helpful. Let us adjourn until after lunch."

They returned to the Room of Requirement in the afternoon, instead of Snape's office where he had lost his temper with his previous student. In the corner of the room, there was a Pensieve that swirled with the silvery substance of thoughts the Professor did not wish to expose. She wondered what they might be.

Perhaps Miss Granger will prove a more successful and dedicated pupil than Harry. He noted she did well enough in meditation this morning.

However, Occlumency was much more difficult.

Hermione was about to get a taste of what Harry's life was like chasing an unfinished dream. Hermione only remembered one dream from the summer and no others. But she new they were there—lying on the surface of her mind. She wanted to know what they were.

Snape unlocked them with a mere spell.

"Miss Granger, I will break into your mind. You must strive to block me out. You must want to do this or the Dark Lord will find you an easy target. Make it hard for him. Wand at the ready... Legilimens!"

Hermione almost fell backwards… Death Eaters with wands raised, dementors surrounding them, a giant white stag… Earth, wind, rain blowing with sheer force wind what comes next, no… not going to let him see… "Noooo!!!!!"

"Miss Granger, you're going to have to work harder than that, you let me see far too much. A good first try though," he struggled with each word, taking Dumbledore's advice and trying to give the young woman encouragement. Nature shoving everything down, interesting… "You tried at the end to block me though, and that's a start."

"Legilimens!"

Oatmeal for breakfast? No mom, wait, I don't like apples in it, you're going to put them in anyway, no don't…. "Ha, ha, ha, ha!" Hermione doubled over in sidesplitting laughter while the potions master stood agape.

"Miss Granger, I don't see what you find so amusing about….oatmeal?" Interesting, how did she push me with a laugh and not a spell?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just remembering the minor visions. I knew mom was going to make oatmeal that day, and I knew she'd forget that I don't like apples in it but she did it anyway before I could stop her." She tried to stop giggling.

"You'll be really sorry Miss Granger, " his frozen words cut and not too kindly, "if the Dark Lord doesn't find your secrets about Harry Potter too funny." She was suddenly serious. "Don't you think? Again. Empty yourself of emotion. Wand ready—Legilimens!"

A old parchment in mom's trunk at home …the book at Flourish and Blotts…it's important…a clue…no he can't see.. no… wait…no… Tears streamed down Hermione's face catching her unaware.

"Are you alright?" He felt her pang of hurt and released her from the spell ending her vision. This is going to be different indeed from teaching Potter. Why was this memory important? Why did she feel so strongly about him in particular not knowing?

"What did you see?" she asked defensively, almost angry. She wiped her face and she was upset he had seen her tears.

"It was actually more an emotion than a picture, like getting closer to an answer, solving a riddle or problem. And you should be angry, Miss Granger—at yourself for allowing this to happen! You must remain calm.  Unshakeable. You will not fail. Ready? Legilimens!"

A mist… a shape… too distant…never saw this before…concentrate now…oh no, these are too private…you can't see… "Protego!" A surprised Professor Snape took a step back.

Hermione was hunched over, hands on her knees and out of breath.

"What was that?" She shook her head and shrugged. "Much better. I think that's enough for today. Occlumency is difficult to master, Miss Granger, but if you practice and apply yourself it will be valuable to you."

"Thank you, Professor Snape. I'll do better next time, promise." The lesson seemed a bit short, but she was beat.

"We can meet again in two days. Same time?" Hermione nodded. "Good."

I need an aspirin. Hermione left in contemplation, reviewing the unlocked thoughts that had escaped her. She wanted to go home. What was that parchment? She ran down the hall to catch Professor McGonagall to see if she could accompany her on a trip to Diagon Alley for supplies, or at least to obtain a somewhat parental escort. She needed to investigate Flourish and Blotts for the clues that landed her in the hospital wing. If I could only remember that shape.

*****

Author's Notes

"S'wonderful" is performed by many artists including Diana Krall on her The Look of Love Album.