Changes Made

Chapter Eleven

Hermione sat, clearing her mind as Professor Snape finished his first round with Harry. When she opened her eyes, Hermione could tell that Harry had done well by his flushed expression and sparkling eyes. He'd just scored a good memory. She stood and, holding on to that empty feeling in her mind, stepped forward to face her teacher. Snape raised his wand, but Hermione was faster, shooting two spells at him in succession.

"Expelliarmus! Legilimens!" she cried. A flood of memories rolled by her mind's eye. Childhood, she thought, focusing on the image of Snape as a boy. Come on…Childhood. A few of the memories drained away, leaving several to drift past more slowly. Hermione observed a small, dark-haired child watching his father get into his car and drive away as his mother cried beside him……the same dark-haired child lay in bed, recovering from a blistering sunburn……a puppy leapt about a garden, barking as the dark-haired child chased him……the dark-haired child sobbed as his mother lowered something into a hole, dropping flowers in on top of it…. Snape fought her spell away and stood, eyeing Hermione coldly.

"You may sit," he said. Hermione did as instructed, raising her eyebrows at Harry as she passed. Harry looked curiously at her, standing to take his place before Professor Snape. Snape shot the Legilimency spell at Harry before Harry could even begin to raise his wand. Harry stumbled backwards but quickly regained his balance and shouldered the spell off. Snape looked surprised, but beckoned Hermione forward all the same. This time, Hermione used a different tactic.

When Snape sent the spell at her, Hermione had cleared her mind of all thoughts except those of her pre-Hogwarts days. She let him sift through those for several moments before pushing him away. Satisfied, she met his gaze without blinking until he dismissed she and Harry from the room. In the hallway, Harry turned to her and grinned.

"Did you see that? The stuff you told me about really works, and so does that book."

"I'm glad," Hermione said, her mind elsewhere.

"Hey Hermione, are you all right?" Harry asked with concern.

"Just thinking," she replied.

"What made Snape so angry with you? I thought you might pass out from blood loss the way he was shooting daggers. Did you see anything important?"

"No, I just requested memories of his childhood, which he didn't seem to appreciate reliving. The second time I gave him some of mine, though, and he didn't seem as mad," Hermione explained.

Harry shuddered. "I would never voluntarily give Snape memories of mine," he said firmly. "That's just weird."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "But you would never have a reason."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Harry, why did you look so smug the first time? What did you see?"

"I got a conversation with Dumbledore. One with Order business in it." Hermione gasped.

"Oh no, Harry! That's dangerous. Voldemort could get it by accident… you should tell Dumbledore right away!"

"I knew you'd say that," Harry replied.

"Come on," Hermione ordered, grabbing his arm.

…………

They reached Dumbledore's office just as Professor McGonagall was leaving.

"Professor," Hermione called. Professor McGonagall looked up expectantly.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"We need to see Professor Dumbledore. It's important," Hermione said firmly. Professor McGonagall looked curious, but asked no questions.

"Fizzing Whizbee," she said to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. It promptly sprang aside. Harry and Hermione jostled forward.

"Fix your hair," the gargoyle grunted at Harry, causing him to jump. "You're going to see the Headmaster."

"Thanks, Professor," Hermione said gratefully. Professor McGonagall inclined her head. Hermione was sure she'd seen a tiny smile there too, but the stairway began to move upwards before she could be sure. In no time they'd reached Dumbledore's door. Harry knocked.

"Come in," they heard Dumbledore call, and they did. Dumbledore stood before an open glass cabinet, dust cloth in hand. "Ah," he said, "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. I've been expecting you. I'm glad you came."

"Why?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

"Why have I been expecting you or why am I glad you came?" Dumbledore asked. "Either way, I shall answer both. I have been expecting you because Professor Snape flooed me a message not moments ago stating that you had accidentally got hold of a conversation he and I had several weeks before you arrived here. I'm glad you came because it means you are taking responsibility for this kind of occurrence, and because it means you trust me enough to take you seriously. Please, sit down and tell me what happened."

"I just did the spell like I was supposed to, Professor, and that's what came up. It was you and Sn-" he caught himself. "Professor Snape talking here. He asked if there was anything new from Headquarters, you answered that no there wasn't but the Ministry was in an uproar, there was something about his Mark, he said Voldemort was being careful, and then you asked if Professor Snape had found a way to locate his Soulstone. He said no and you said that maybe he should work on a lesson plan. Then he left." Hermione stiffened in her seat. Harry didn't notice.

"Yes, that is about the gist of it," Dumbledore said.

"Hermione thought it might be dangerous for Voldemort to find that should he take a random fancy to pick my brain," Harry said dryly. "So we're here."

"And a very good thing, too. She's right. Do you know what a Soulstone is, Harry?" Harry shook his head. "Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor." Dumbledore gestured that she should continue. "A Soulstone is the highly complicated result of a special spell that places the entire soul or part of a soul into a stone of some sort. Precious Gemstones are the most receptive to this spell, however it had been recorded that quartz and marble may be used with success. The Soulstone spell is only used if a wizard wishes to give himself a state of immortality, and if the wizard makes a mistake or the spell goes wrong, he is immediately killed. Part of the spell enables the wizard to live normally even though his soul is not present in the body, and if the body is killed, the soul remains trapped in the stone until it is released or used to create another form for it to live in. If Voldemort has a Soulstone, he may not be completely vanquished until his Soulstone is found and destroyed. If his Soulstone is destroyed, he will die. The only other wizard known to have successfully used this spell in the last five centuries was the dark wizard Grindelwald, in the mid-1940s."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very good, Miss Granger." He turned to Harry. "As you can see, Harry, it is vitally important that we locate the Soulstone. Fortunately for us, Voldemort doesn't know that we know he has one. If he were to find this particular conversation, however…"

"Right," Harry said. "So what do I do?"

"I happen to have a particular dish," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling, "That you happen to have some experience with." He stood and moved around his desk to the cabinet next to Harry. He tapped the lock with his wand, opening the cabinet. From the middle shelf, Dumbledore carefully pulled a bowl filled with swirling silvery mist. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Now Harry," Dumbledore continued, setting the bowl on his desk. "Come over here." Harry did as instructed. "I want you to focus on that conversation. Remember every detail of it." Harry shut his eyes and concentrated. "Raise your wand and touch it to your temple…And pull it out. Now open your eyes and drop the thought into the Penseive. Very good! Now can you remember any conversation between Professor Snape and myself?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed in wonder. "I know I could a moment ago, but it isn't there!"

"How did it feel," Dumbledore asked, smiling.

"Peculiar," Harry answered. "It was like something just slid out of my head where my wand touched it. And then it was gone!"

"I suggest that you two go find yourselves a spot of lunch," Dumbledore said cheerfully, looking at Harry and Hermione over his spectacles. "And relax this afternoon."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said, standing.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied. Harry held the door for Hermione, and they left.

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Snape was once again furious with himself. Why hadn't he fought her away? All of his training went completely against this new policy of just letting Hermione Granger waltz into his mind and demand whatever she wanted. Today, it had been memories of his childhood. What did she want with them? At first Snape had been stunned, then angry. He barely noticed when Harry blasted Potter dug up a private conversation he'd forgotten about. Facing Hermione again, Snape had been apprehensive and on his guard. What would she do this time? He'd been completely blown away when she'd just stood there, offering him whatever he liked from the inner corners of her mind, offering exactly what she'd taken from him.

And like some sort of brainless troll, he'd done exactly as she did, taking memories of her childhood away to examine privately. Fury ebbing away, he recalled what he'd seen in Hermione's mind. The graceful, careful moves of a seven-year-old ballerina, a blue and green parakeet, and a girl planting marigolds tenderly in the back garden. An alcoholic uncle appeared in several memories, as did Hermione's mother's appreciation for Martha Stewart magazines and dinner parties. Snape found that Hermione's keen intelligence was already on display at age four as her father had her read aloud to his friends. At least they managed some semblance of the fabled 'domestic bliss,' Snape mused. It was far from perfect, but it could have been much worse, he thought darkly. It could have been like his.

Forcing those thoughts away, Snape stood and wandered over to the nearest bookshelf. From it he slid a gilded volume concerning the Goblin Wars. Opening it, he read the first page. Professor Binns could have written it, Snape decided, and put it back on the shelf. He chose another book at random: How To Lose Your Mind in 10 Days. This was not something he particularly wanted to do. Snape moved to the Restricted Section. Unlike the students, he didn't require permission to enter. Now this was where he found the interesting subjects.

He walked down a narrow aisle between shelves, careful not to touch any of the books. There were a few books more than well equipped to protect themselves...from everything. At the end of the row, he turned automatically to the right, looking for his favourite of the potion books: Moste Potente Potions. His eyes caught the title in its familiar place. Snape pulled the book from the shelf and opened it, relishing the scent of old paper and ancient ink. This book always cheered him up. Dusty tome in hand, Snape left the Restricted Section and strode to the front desk.

"Madam Pince," he said quietly, "I'm taking my usual." Madam Pince nodded without looking up. Snape exited the library and made his way to his classroom.

............

Two hours later, Snape stood before a bubbling cauldron. Silvery mist hovered over the liquid, pouring down the sides of the cauldron to coil beneath it. Snape dipped a ladle carefully into the poisonous-looking green liquid, dipping some out to examine it. No lumps, not a hint of cloudiness or sludge. It was, in a word, perfect, and Snape was more than satisfied. Yes! He still had it. He removed the cauldron from the fire and fetched an enormous storage jar from a cabinet in the rear of the room. He dipped the entire potion out into the jar, revelling in it's smooth green-ness. He labelled the jar with a wave of his wand, Serpentius Transmogrificatum. This truly made him happy. If only he wasn't so good at it! There was much that another teacher couldn't tell his students about the Dark Arts, how real they were, how dangerous, how to truly defend themselves against them. Snape shivered, the warmth of a perfect potion gone.

He'd experienced a lot in the time between his fifth year of Hogwarts and the time at which he returned to the side of light. He was glad that many of those memories rested in the Penseive. He didn't want them at all, really, but at times they came in useful. There was much there that he'd rather forget, that he'd rather have disappear rather than return to haunt his nightmares. Things he would never allow Hermione to see, glowing brown eyes or not.

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Hermione was once again scribbling busily in her notebook. The new information she'd gathered from Professor Snape proved quite supplemental to her existing notes. The picture that she held in her mind of Severus Snape as a young boy grew more detailed with every memory she received. She'd spent an hour already imagining his life, making up stories about him and playing them like little films inside her head.

It had been amusing, she thought, the horrible affronted expression on his face after her first quest inside his mind. Poor Harry! He'd born the brunt of Snape's anger at her unprecedented actions. Then the way the anger had melted away from his strong features as she met his eyes, offering him her own memories in return for what she'd taken. Would he have given them freely to her had she asked? Hermione didn't think so. Her way was much more practical to her own wishes. Manipulative little cow, snickered her mind. Hermione smiled.

Crookshanks trickled into the room, rubbing on furniture and purring once more. He leapt into Hermione's lap and curled up. Hermione cuddled him for a quarter of an hour before lifting her pet down onto the floor and going over to knock on the door between her and Harry's rooms.

"Harry," she called. He called for her to come in. Hermione opened the door and ducked as something small, round, and feathered flew past her head.

"Pig," Harry cried. "Stop that!" Pigwidgeon ignored him. Harry laughed as Hermione ducked again, lower this time as Ron Weasley's owl hurtled through the air. Harry was hovering fifteen feet in the air, supported by his Firebolt and reading a letter from his friend.

"Ron says his mum is going crazy trying to get he and Ginny ready for school. She hasn't been able to convince the twins to come back here…she's tried everything, but they're already set up in Diagon Alley. He says the Chudley Cannons lost again, but not so badly as last match, and he can't wait to see us. Hey, do you suppose we could meet him on the platform in Hogsmeade? And Ginny, too."

Hermione shrugged. "Why not? Do you want to go to Hogsmeade this afternoon? Like, now? It's not raining any longer."

"Sure," Harry lowered himself to the ground, leaning forward on his glossy broomstick.

"How is it, Harry," Hermione wondered aloud, "that you can keep your broomstick in top condition, but your wand is covered in fingerprints and smudges?" Harry grinned sheepishly at her and leaned his broomstick against the wall.

"I'll meet you at Professor McGonagall's office," Hermione offered. "Go change." Harry disappeared into his bedroom, and Hermione ventured down the hallways to her head-of-house's office. She knocked.

"Come in," she heard Professor McGonagall call.

"Hello, Professor," Hermione entered the room and sat down.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said welcomingly. "I trust that the Headmaster took care of everything this morning?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione answered politely.

"Biscuit?" Professor McGonagall offered her a tin.

"No thanks. Harry and I were just about to go to Hogmeade for a bit. Last minute shopping and all that."

"Of course," Professor McGonagall agreed. "Be back by six o'clock."

Harry leaned through the open door. "Hello, Professor. Are you coming, Hermione?"

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I made it up. It gives a witch or wizard cetain qualities of a snake…not comfortable to take, however, and highly dangerous. And potente.

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A/N: Another chapter. This one was difficult....I rewrote Snape's bit about four times. Thanks to my uber-fab beta, Aindel S. Druida, this chapter is much better than it was. Everybody needs a beta!! If you guys are noticing odd things about Snape's childhood, I promise there's probably an answer....but let me know what you think anyway. Thanks so much for the reviews! I find them helpful and encouraging, even the more scorch-y ones. :-) Have a quadruple fab day, this time. Laters!