A/N: Thanks to everyone who R&R'd my last chapter. I'm glad you enjoyed it and I've updated as soon as it was possible. Please R&R again if you like this new chapter, it's much appreciated! Thanks go to my new beta Angel, who has been a great sounding board and helped me to further my ideas, as well as checking this over for me.

3.Memories

The next afternoon, they were in the first Care of Magical Creatures class of the year and Hermione was dreading the evening that was drawing ever near. She had heard tales of some of the more horrible punishments Snape had concocted in the past for students in detention; Ron having to clear the chamber pots in the hospital wing by hand had just been one of them.

"Now then," Hagrid's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I see yer've all finished feedin' your nettles ter yer Glumbumbles. I thought we could see how they can help as an antidote ter Alihotsy leaves. Any volunteers?"

No hands rose and the students regarded Hagrid warily, nursing their badly stung, swelling fingers. Although the nettles had done their fair share of prickling them, it appeared that Hagrid's method of catching them, the Glumbumbles did not appreciate being grabbed out of the air without warning.

Hermione wondered vaguely why she was still taking this subject. She didn't know what exactly she planned to do in the future, but she was pretty sure it wouldn't involve creatures or beasts of any sort. Then she remembered the accusing glares she had received from her two best friends after she had asked them if they thought she should drop the course. There was also the fact that she didn't want to hurt Hagrid's feelings.

"Nobody? Neville? How about you givin' us a demonstration?" Neville stared at Hagrid, in obvious dismay. If there was anything seven years at Hogwarts had taught him, it was that he wasn't exactly the best performer in most classes, with the exception of Herbology, never mind in front of an audience.

"Come on, now. Nothin' ter be afraid of." Neville looked as though he very much doubted the last statement, but he tentatively made his way over to the front of the class where Hagrid stood, holding a tiny vial of grey liquid. "Now, these," he pointed to a batch of seemingly harmless purple and red leaves growing in a nearby pot, "yer'll seen in 'em in yer 'erbol'gy classes," most faces were blank.

"Poor Neville," whispered Hermione.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, who was standing next to her, gripping quite forcefully onto the furry insect that was buzzing excitedly in his hands.

"Alihotsy leaves-I think Hagrid may have underestimated their effect just a little."

"Why? What do they do?"

"Cause hysteria." Harry met her worried eyes with an expression to match. After all, Neville wasn't the calmest of people.

"Tha's right, Hermione," beamed Hagrid, who had overheard her just then, but apparently not the rest of the whispered conversation.

"So then, if Neville just takes a few of these 'ere leaves," he held out a handful to the now paling Neville, who had also overheard Hermione. He took a small handful apprehensively. "Once they take effect, we'll give Neville a bit of this Glumbumble serum which should make 'im calm down."

"Go on, just swallow a few bites." Neville raised his hand to his mouth, shooting a desperate glance in the Gryffindors' direction, Ron winced sympathetically. He chewed a few times and then swallowed. Several people, who had seen the effects of Alihotsy leaves before held their breath, while the Slytherins' sniggered.

For a minute, nothing happened. Neville looked relieved, as did Hermione, Ron and Harry, the Slytherins were disappointed, Hagrid frowned and examining the leaves closely.

"Maybe Hagrid picked up the wrong plant," said Harry.

Hermione looked unsure. "I don't know. I remember Professor Sprout telling us about Alihotsy leaves last year. It can take a while for them to take effect."

"Yeah, but it has been a while and…" Ron trailed off when he caught sight of Neville now.

There was a trickle of sweat running down his forehead. He was trembling and his head shook from side to side, his eyes darting wildly at the crowd that had gathered round him. Neville attempted to take a few unsteady steps forward, only to fall flat on his face into the wet grass.

"Alrigh' Neville," said Hagrid, pulling him up. "Now, jus' calm down and take a bit o' this." He uncorked the vial, and held it out. Neville, shuddering violently now, reached out and grabbed it with shaking hands. It slipped from his grasp, fell to the ground and shattered into tiny, glittering shards. Hermione tried a quick "Reparo," but it was too late. The murky liquid had seeped into the soil.

"O' dear," Hagrid's expression was troubled. "Tha's my only bottle of th' stuff. Told Madam Pomfrey I only needed one."

"Well…she must have more, mustn't she? Up in the hospital wing, I mean?" questioned Hermione.

"Yeah, tha's true," Hagrid's face brightened. "Hermione, could yer take him up fer me?" Hermione nodded, just a tad reluctantly, for Neville was now laughing frenziedly and pointing at members of the class. He reminded her of her younger cousin Douglas, after too many sweets.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Severus Snape hated the incessant chatter of the staff room. He only put an appearance in there to please the Headmaster, thus avoiding the sugar coated lecture of the older wizard on how he should get out more.

He retreated to the furthest corner of the room, here he could mark work from his classes as a distraction. Unfortunately, today was only the third day of the new term, and with no work to mark, meant he had no excuse to distance himself from the other occupants of the room.

So far, there had been no conversation that interested him. Hooch and Flitwick discussed the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team; Sprout was discussing her niece's recent wedding and that old bat, Trelawney was telling her that it was bound to end in tragedy. But then, one topic caught his attention.

"…Hermione Granger?"

McGonagall sighed heavily at Vector's enquiry. "She…puts on quite a convincingly brave face, I'll admit. But she still doesn't appear to be herself. For instance, Hermione has always been a committed student, but now even more so. She came to me just before the end of last term asking for all sorts of extra projects and work."

"Perhaps she just wants to excel herself in her last year?"

"I have no doubt she does, but she gave me the impression that she wanted the extra work to…well, escape. She seemed almost relieved when I warned her about having hardly any free time for herself. Her refusal to take the position of Head Girl was, to say the least, unexpected."

"I must confess, although it worked out well for Sprout's house, with both Macmillan and Abbott becoming Heads, I was rather surprised. Did she say why she didn't wish to accept it?"

"Only that 'she had enough to be getting on with' this year. I don't understand it. It's been her greatest ambition since first year."

Vector paused, as if considering whether to ask. "Do you think perhaps it's to do with what happened last year?"

"I'm more than sure it is. But when Hermione was taken, she was the only one. As far as I know, she hasn't told a soul about what she saw that night. Thank Goodness Albus managed to track her down. I shudder to think what might have happened otherwise."

Vector shook her head sorrowfully. "Children aren't meant to have to see these things. Potter has had it worse than all of them, of course, with basilisks and the like. But I don't think there's many at Hogwarts who haven't experienced some elements of You-Know-Who's power."

Severus snorted inwardly. Potter. Oh yes, the 'boy who lived', famous because of his mother's sacrifice. All he had seen of his 'bravery' had been his constant habit to wonder into trouble, with the same bemused expression painted on his face each time.

"I must ask you..…Hermione appears to be in reasonably good spirits at the moment but if anything should happen this year, should her demeanour change…maybe you'll treat her a little less…stressfully than you would your other N.E.W.T students?"

"Oh, of course, Minerva."

Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Nonsense," he muttered, more audibly than he'd intended. Most of the occupants in the staff room jumped. He had been so silent before, it was easy to assume he wasn't there or simply go along with the facade.

"Severus?" asked Minerva.

He drew in a breath, "I simply meant that to treat the girl with kid gloves would be an insult. Both to her mind and her-what is that noise?"

Outside the staff room there was a terrible sound of sobbing mixed with laughter. "Neville…please…I can't take you up there if you don't get off the floor…oh, come on," came a stifled voice. "Oh…Mobilicorpus!"

The door flew open and Snape was greeted with a strange sight. Granger was leading a floating Longbottom in the direction of the infirmary. "Miss. Granger. What are you...Longbottom, I should have known. Let me guess, a Cheering Charm gone awry?"

"No…A-Alihotsy leaves…" mumbled Hermione. She couldn't understand it. Even before now she'd been able to get her words out properly and even managed to look him in the eyes.

"Indeed. I'll take it from here. You may return to your class, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, mutely and took a few steps in the opposite direction. "And kindly don't forget our appointment this evening." She gritted her teeth, but continued.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After dinner, Hermione began her descent to the dungeons. The distinct coldness, so unlike the warmth of Gryffindor Tower, had begun to hit her and despite her resolve she shivered.

When she reached the door that led to Snape's office, she came to a halt. Hesitantly, she brought up a hand and knocked lightly. Hearing the noise it produced, she shrank back from the door.

A somewhat silky voice, sounded from within. "Come in."

Hermione's eyes widened. Had she just thought of her professor's voice as "silky"? Taken slightly back, she pushed down on the aged chrome handle; it was embellished with a twisted serpent, and stepped inside.

Whatever she had been expecting this wasn't it. There was no cold, continuous stone floor and walls but a thick, bottle green rug and tapestries hanging all around, portraying the infamous Slytherin snake. A fire roared underneath an oak mantel and bookcases lined the walls. Two, comfortable chintz armchairs were placed in the corner and a desk with various bottles and books on it's surface, stood next to a second door, leading, Hermione supposed, to his private chamber. Taking it all in, she realized Snape's office felt a way she had quite unanticipated- warm and inviting.

"If you have quite finished gawping…"

Hermione started and faced teacher. He met her eyes for a split-second before he strode past her to the door near to the desk and pulled it open. She blinked, until she realised she had been wrong. It was not his private chamber after all, but a small, private laboratory.

Small, but fully equipped, none the less. She lost count of the many rows of labelled bottles, lined up on the shelf that went along the length of the small room. Locked ingredient cabinets, with glass fronts also intrigued her. She had only ever glimpsed a small sample of the ingredients Snape kept privately in her second year when she had snuck into his private stores to steal the Boomslang skin.

"Your task will be to brew a simple Hair-Raising Potion" Snape broke into her private wonderings about what those cabinets could contain. He motioned over to the lone, wooden desk in the centre of the room. Upon it were the ingredients and equipment she needed. "I will be doing my own work. I trust you have the competency to carry it out without my assistance?"

Hermione nodded, wordlessly and walked to the desk, wondering why she had not been told to do a more unpleasant assignment. But, surprised at her luck, she did not question it and simply began. It didn't take long for her to feel the heat of the room and pull her dark robe off, leaving it to rest on a nearby stool.

At the rustling noise, Snape turned. Hermione, with her back to him was now, not dressed in her usual robes, but what he presumed to be the Muggle clothes she wore out of class. Strangely, he allowed his eyes to linger on her figure. He had not noticed the little changes that had taken place in Hermione Granger over the last year and now observed them fully for the first time.

Her once-bushy hair had been cut just below her shoulders and was now smoother, sleeker. She held her head high and his eyes traced her small shoulders down to her slender waist and the hips, which had once been slim but had now gracefully developed into smooth curves, generously hugged by the short blue skirt she was wearing.

She turned slightly, allowing him to see what had been concealed from the back. She wore a white blouse, which although not being tight, fell in all the right places. The very right places in fact. Shocked at letting his mind wander so far, Snape snapped his head around to where it should have been, disgusted with himself. How could he stare at his student like that?

Some time later, after stirring the first ingredients briskly, Hermione poured in the rest of the powdered snake fang into the cauldron with the rat-tails, which reminded her, unwillingly, of her encounter with Wormtail in the Shrieking Shack in her third year and more recent events. Stirring the glutinous, teal-coloured potion again, she set it back onto its burner.

While she waited for the potion to simmer, she sneaked a quick look over her shoulder to see what the Potions Master was doing. With his back to her, Severus Snape appeared to be holding up a purple liquid in a measuring tube to the dim candlelight. She took the chance to study his profile.

Black, oily hair that the boys had often commented nastily on during his tedious Potions homework, adorned his head. But now she understood the reason for the grease. Her own head wasn't feeling so cool anymore, with the rising vapours coming from her cauldron and the general humidity of the room. She began to wonder what his hair would look like after a shower, or even a few hours away from the heat from his cauldron.

Her eyes trailed down his long, black robes. It was hard to tell the true shape of his figure through the dark material, but he looked quite slim and well proportioned. The jokes made by Gryffindors through the years about his body shape didn't seem to make sense any more. In truth, if you took away the sallow skin and the pallid appearance, he would be positively…good-looking.

Startled by her train of thought, she whipped her head back to her cauldron. In so rapidly doing so, her arm carelessly knocked it aside, causing its contents to pour onto the desk, splashing onto her face and arms.

She didn't feel anything for a moment, just embarrassment at having been so careless. But then she felt it. The tingling chill running down her spine, the sudden inability to move.

Then the memories came…..

…..And the tears.

At the crashing noise, Severus reeled round, his eyes flashing at the mess she had made. But then he saw her.

Hermione had fallen to the floor. Her hands were clamped over her face and she was speaking incoherently to herself, while shaking back and forth. He kneeled on the ground, roughly grabbed her shoulders and shook them in an attempt to pull her out of the miserable trance she had sunk into.

When, she came to, her hands were still securely covering her face, which he peeled away gently.

Hermione's eyes were filled with tears that streamed endlessly down her cheeks. Almost tenderly, he wiped them away with his hands, hushing her sobs.

"What happened?" he asked urgently. " What did you see?"

For a moment it looked like she was about to tell him, but then he saw the recognition appear momentarily in her eyes. She scrambled to her feet and backed away, still staring at him.

Before she ran out of the laboratory, his footsteps behind her. Snape had just reached the passageway outside his office to see her disappear around the corner.

"Hermione!" he yelled desperately after her but she didn't turn back. He was left to fall back against his doorway, confused and troubled about what had just taken place before his eyes.