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 am a social worker.  No money here in turnip-ville.  Please pretty please read and review! Thanks~ Leyna

Chapter 9: Finding Purpose in the Family Tree

After two days of sleep without leaving her room, Hermione spent most of the remaining Christmas holidays in solitude and reflection. Snape had granted her request to suspend meditation and Occlumency lessons for the time being. Periodically the thoughts of others came to her without warning and she would chuckle to herself as she thought of how many really mundane and ordinary thoughts pop into our heads every day.

Severus Snape passed her in the hall, nodding a morning greeting to her. He had been thinking about…chocolate? Hmm, I would've never guessed. Remembering the previous chatter of the common room party, she envisioned Snape succumbing to desire in the window of the Chocolaterie and stifled a laugh.

That night she temporarily escaped the violence of the previous dream and continued the new one. The one she had focused on continuing. The mist appeared before her and the sensation grew again, filled with expectancy, anticipation, of wanting… a shape, dark against the haze came into view. She longed for the answer, a feeling that she had been searching for years to find.  She reached out for him— his hair was a glossy black wave, the twirl of a tailored cloak cut through the air as the tall man spun to face her. Her breath was caught… and she sat straight up in bed breathing heavily.

A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips. Another wave of light erupted from her limbs. Her mind began to process the new dream, one that would visit her often. What was the significance of this? I'm seeing too much of my Professor. That's it. I felt his feelings and thoughts in an intimate enough setting. I'm projecting. She never dated. That's it. It's just wishful thinking . It will pass.

It didn't.

Again she dreamed about the fog, and her seal. The seal! She had been distracted by the school year and wanted to resume her search for the seal's origin. She removed gold wax from the bottom of the box and heated it. She made the impression with the brass and examined it again with her fingertips. She needed to make a phone call.

Harry and Hermione crept down the passageway under the Whomping Willow out to Hogsmeade.  They hid under the cloak until they reached the Hog's Head where she called her mother.  Unfortunately, no mail had come. Hermione pulled out the business card and called Mr. McLeod form the Muggle telephone. A man with an Irish lilt answered.

"Allo?"

"Hello, I need to speak with a Mr. McLeod." She waited. Silence.

He recognized her voice.  "Don't speak. We need to meet. It's too risky to discuss matters on the phone." 

Too risky?  God, it's just a book.  She arranged to meet him in a week at the Muggle bar where she used to sing, at a time when he was already planning a trip to London so it wouldn't be suspicious.

"I am looking forward to meeting you," was all he said, and Hermione realized she hadn't even given her name. 

Harry drank a butterbeer in front of the booth, feigning interest in he workmanship of it, in order to offer diversion for the user.  Hermione nudged him as she slipped out of the booth under the Invisibility Cloak. She came out of the pub with a puzzled expression plastered on her face as she wondered Mr. McLeod had been so mysterious.  Once again, no one noticed the pair and she was grateful as they exited toward the Shrieking Shack.

*****

At the start of the semester Hermione walked with confidence to her first Occlumency lesson. Professor Snape was of course obliged to continue with lessons per Dumbledore.  He was sure the old man thought he'd get something beneficial from continuing.  Dumbledore always had secret agendas.  He dreaded their first meeting, and hoped that Hermione, who he had diligently avoided during the holiday, had managed to rest up enough to recover from her violent premonitions and the memory of Miss Levi's tragedy.   Severeus himself had recurrent dreams about the flashes of Hermione's vision.  Those recollections alone were unsettling enough even for him.

Professor Snape was therefore pleasantly surprised but suspicious of the serene expression on Hermione's face, betraying no emotion.

"Are you ready?" He asked cautiously. "We haven't practiced in a while."  Don't push her.

"Give it your best shot." She said dryly. Her face was as still as stone.

"Legilimens." Zero. Zippo. Nil. She blinked at him as if nothing had happened. She was a blank. Snape arched an impressed eyebrow.

Occlumency was about shielding thoughts you didn't want others to see. Not shielding all thoughts. He had been restrained, not wanting to push her too hard. He was testing the waters.

"Legilimens. " A bit more pressure from the potions master but still, he saw only blankness. He smiled a with a curl of approval from his lip. My, my, much better, Miss Granger. She felt the tide building within her but she quieted it. She flushed a bit.

Now, Severus Snape was a very accomplished Legilimens.  He usually succeeded at anything he wished to achieve and truly, he had still been holding back, wondering how much his formerly fragile student could manage.

Hermione baited him. "Professor Snape, I'm ready. Stop holding back and hit me." Her voice was firm and steady.

"LEGILIMENS!" he bellowed. Snape flew across the room and slammed against the wall.

Flashes of his memory came to her mind…a little boy cowering in the corner during an argument, 'You don't want me as your enemy Quirrell'… a jar of dead cockroaches crashing against the stone… a vision of herself as she exited the infirmary the night Rose was tortured…clutching his left arm… a Death Eater meeting…the snake-like features of Lord Voldemort. She quickly shut herself off from him.

Shaken, he didn't notice the young Gryffindor hadn't even raised her wand.

"Are you all right Professor? I'm very sorry," she began, running over to check on him.

He straightened and rubbed his shoulder. "Fine, Miss Granger. Fine." He stood abruptly brushing off any concern she might have extended to him. "Very good. I think you have mastered it. I'm not sure what moved you forward…it seems everything just fell into place?"

"You could say that."

"One more time?" He said cautiously. He rubbed the back of his head where it had hit the bookcase.

Hermione controlled herself this time and noticed the room had changed to include padded walls.

He screamed the incantation again, the force of it pushing against her mind, and she let it wash over her. Snape only felt a nudge this time.  She had controlled it. Incredible.

"You did it." Was all he could manage. Different from others. He had been teaching Harry to allow some truths but not others,  shielding the most secret things, permitting inaccurate conclusions to be drawn from revealed memories. With Hermione it was all or none. Very effective.

That was Hermione's last Occlumency class. She was already meditating privately and after demonstrating her ability to begin without his aid, those classes had come to an end as well.

When he left the Room of Requirement she stayed behind, privately releasing the ocean of energy that had been brimming inside of her.  She knelt to the ground and relaxed as her body once again remembered its destiny. Her face flushed with the emotions that came with it, washing over her. She was changing. Her visions became clearer and she blushed at the revelation coming into focus. Hermione had more questions than ever as she awaited the long Christmas week for Mr. McLeod's visit.

*****

She snuck out at night in her best attire, wrapped in the borrowed cloak. She took the bumpy ride on the Knight Bus to The Fat Cat Lounge where a night of jazz awaited her. She enjoyed the opportunity to vent her anger and passion through the notes. She thought she'd recognize the man as he walked in, but no one came. She left disappointed and distracted by her own thoughts was caught unawares as she removed the Invisibility Cloak upon reentering the castle.

McGonagall was furious. After the attack on Rose, Hermione couldn't blame her for being angry.  They had all been trying to protect her.  They had been looking for her.

McLeod. I thought we were being discreet.

She followed her gruff Head of House to the Great Hall and she was greeted by serious looks from a stern Dumbledore and a fuming Severus Snape. Snape looked like a ticking bomb. If looks could kill. They had thought it was like Rose all over again.  She was immediately sorry. Her hair was up and she was wearing a formal black evening gown. It shouted the message that she wasn't where she should've been, having fun while they were frantically searching for her. In addition, she was carrying Harry's rather incriminating cloak. That was sure to get him into trouble.

"Miss Granger, it seems that you have a guest. I will speak with you when you have finished." McGonagall and Snape seemed perturbed at Dumbledore's choice of pronoun. It seems they had a word or two to contribute also. Snape was seething, disgusted with her. His emotions were too complex to read, something elusive just under the surface of his anger—worry… relief? She couldn't bear to look at him.

"Miss Granger," the handsome and well-dressed Irishman took her proffered hand and kissed it. "I am Liam McLeod. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you Mr. McLeod," she returned formally.

"I apologize for my lateness." She didn't want him to explain further and instead hurried him toward an adjacent room to offer them more privacy to talk before he offered more information to the teachers than was necessary.

"Excuse us please," she managed.

They sat in a warm room with a table and chairs, offered to many parents who came to the school while they waited to meet with their children or see the Headmaster. It had a crackling fire and dim lighting. There was a window in the closed door which offered little visual privacy from the onlooking staff. Out of the corner of her eye she could see them arguing about her.

"Mr. McLeod," she began tersely. "I'm in a lot of trouble because of your delay. We were supposed to meet earlier, and in private.  I am quite surprised to see you here. You're not a wizard are you?"

"No…"

She interrupted, "Then how on earth did you find me?"

"Miss Granger, I beg your pardon." He bowed an apology and his voice possessed a soothing quality which would've been bewitching to most women. He wore a fine Italian suit, and was terribly attractive, with dark, shoulder-length hair, olive skin, deep dark eyes, broad muscular shoulders. His eyes did not look like they belonged to a man in his late thirties, instead they reflected lifetimes of experiences.

"This, " he pulled a small velvet box from his coat pocket, "was your mother's. It has been a family heirloom for many generations. It now belongs to you. It helped me to find you." He pushed it across the table toward her and opened it. It revealed a beautiful oval pendant with delicate markings.  It possessed a dim milky amber glow. He removed it from the box and placed it delicately around her neck.

Hogwarts is Unplottable. No wonder he could find the school. This man isn't magical at all yet he's managing to discuss my family history with me. "I have so many questions."

"Hermione, if I may address you that way… You mother was a special woman. She lived very long life, 763 years old when she passed I think, though that life span was short by her own measure of time, and died during your birth. Leyna, as I knew her, was gifted as well you see. I am sure your gifts are also emerging?" She nodded.  Leyna… my mother.

"There was a book, at Flourish and Blotts, you purchased it I think?" He nodded with appreciation.

"Amazing that you stumbled upon it actually. Perhaps it called out to you. Is this what you are talking about?" And pulling the ancient text from his satchel, he placed it in front of her. "This diary can only be opened by a descendant of the family line."

Leyna Rountree, the words appeared on the cover, the Genealogy of the Clisha people, Wisdom for the Path through Darkness. Leyna…the~L on the scroll. She gasped and looked ather mother's longtime friend.

"I couldn't read it, even if I wanted to. Leyna was vague about the details concerning her life and people. Your mother said you would need direction, and so did she. This is her mother's book, and she added to it in order to make one for you. She told me to tell you…"

Hermione listened in awed silence as he for the better part of twenty minutes, explained her family heritage, and her jaw dropped as he discussed her paternal family. "You see," he finished, "you are part of a great legacy, and an important duty of service to both your own family and that of the wizarding community as well. Your mother told no one of this story. I have been so fortunate to know her. She has been a wonderful and dear friend."

Liam lifted a satchel and unfolded the leather bindings.With the back of the painting facing toward the Great Hall, shielding it from view, he revealed a picture of her mother who looked unquestionably like Hermione. Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She wanted to reach out and touch the moving woman. Her mother was smiling at her.

"I've been told, as my experiences in wizarding society are quite limited, that to paint in this way is a terribly difficult and magnificently time consuming thing. This particular painting possesses over 50 different paintings of your mother, one on top of the next. She was 200 when this was painted. The scenery can change, she wears different garments. She is very beautiful. Please pardon me if I stare at you, you just remind me so much of her." His voice was laden with emotion. "He raised his hand to touch her cheek in admiration and offered her a handkerchief. She blotted her tears and thanked him for his time.

"My mother left me a brass seal, can you explain the markings?" She almost forgot.

"In a way, it is a reflection of your father's family crest and that of your mother's people. The staff of course is your fathers, and this bright star.  You have already experienced the energy, have you not?"

Hermione's jaw went slack as she thought of the repeated waves of intensity washing over her daily, if not more often.

"I see you have.  Use the seal well, not many will recognize it if at all.  Despite that, it's use should be kept a secret." She picked up the book quickly, flipping through the pages as she did at the bookstore, and came upon the seal. That was the shape she saw. "Of course you should know that with your long family line, you have inherited a great deal of wealth. It will be ready for you when you need to access it. Write to me if you need funds transferred to Gringotts. Sign your note only with the gold wax and seal. No one will be able to connect it to you. I'll send you an owl you can use for anonymous communications."

"Thank you, Mr. McLeod. Thank you so much." 

"Call me Liam." They embraced and he kissed her forehead. She knew he thought of her as family and he was so close to her mother, Hermione didn't mind his warmth.

He packed up the painting and took it with him for safekeeping. Liam would return it later in a few years when she got settled.

Hermione's brain reeled from the information given to her this evening, and the weight of responsibility that lay with her.  She had purpose.  Her visions had meaning.  She had answers. Her dreams made more sense. Now she had to face Dumbledore.

Her heels clicked against the stone floor, echoing loudly in defiance to her wish to disappear.  To her relief, only Dumbledore remained to greet her in the Great Hall and they walked to his office through the gargoyle's entryway and up the moving staircase to his office. He gestured for her to sit. He did not offer her a lemon drop.

After a moment, he let out an exasperated sigh and regarded her meaningfully, his gaze penetrating through all of her defenses, "Miss Granger, Hogwarts is not a prison. It is meant to keep you safe from harm, not keep you from living. I am deeply saddened that you felt you could not confide in us. Professor McGonagall and Professors Snape both have been so worried about you. I remember a previous conversation in this very room where you acknowledged that your life could be in danger. We received confirmation later that it was indeed true. Yet you left, without telling us.That is a disrespect I thought you incapable of."

The tears were flowing now. She could almost bear anything except hearing the disappointment that rang though Professor Dumbledore's voice.

"Hermione, I know you have been through a great ordeal, and I understand if you may not wish to share everything that is testing you. But I do expect you to be mature enough to know when to accept help from those who genuinely care for your wellbeing."

"Headmaster, I am so sorry…" she began.

"I am not finished, Miss Granger. Thank you for aiding in the recovery and healing of Rose Levi. She is slowly improving at St. Mungo's with your contribution of the considerable inventory of the curses and hexes that were used. She is in a coma, but otherwise is in stable condition. Your gifts have been useful and they have been noticed. It must be very difficult to manage the premonitions you've been having. I understand you have made some excellent breakthroughs indeed; Professor Snape reported your mastery in Occlumency.

"Regarding your need for more freedom, you may go on Hogsmeade weekends if you wish, so long as you are accompanied by a fellow student, and with our knowledge of course." His eyes twinkled. "If you should find it necessary to make an errand from the school… please ask for permission from me or your Head of House first so that we can know where you are. I am sure you have similar rules with your parents over the summer?"

She nodded obediently and felt eight years old. "If you wish, I will refrain from inquiring about the man who visited. He seemed quite honorable actually and offered you some peace of mind? Yes? You seem more relaxed than I've seen you in months. But I will ask you one thing."

"Yes sir?"

"May I ask what you are wearing that magnificent dress for?  I doubt it is for jogging."

She giggled. "If you promise not to tell…I haven't told a soul…" she hesitated. She bit her bottom lip, "I sing. I was supposed to meet Mr. McLeod this evening at the nightclub but he was late. It's the only time I went Professor, I promise."

"I know.. You sing, how extraordinary. Your talents never cease to amaze me. Have a good evening, Miss Granger."

"Sir, aren't you going to take House points?" She was mentally plugging in her ears, waiting for the explosion.

"No, I think not. I believe Minerva and Severus will be arguing about that all week. I think you owe them both an apology don't you?" He peered over his glasses.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Now I must ask… is there anything further you wish to tell me?"

"I am finding some things out about myself, and when I figure it out, I will come to you. I promise."

"I know that you will, Hemione."

Author's Notes:

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