Changes Made

Chapter Fifteen

Snape couldn't believe what he'd done. He'd made Hermione Granger cry, again. And after he'd made her cry, he'd shown no outward remorse. What was this? A masquerade? The time to wear a mask was not now! Not when it meant hurting someone who shouldn't be hurt. But somehow he couldn't keep himself from hiding. Why was that, he wondered. In the meantime, he tidied his rooms for the thousandth time, pretending to find dust along the edge of his bookshelf.

Imaginary dust couldn't keep him occupied for long, however. Soon there was nothing left to distract him once more from his pressing thoughts of Hermione. What would he say when he saw her again? Could he apologise?

She started it, pointed out part of his mind.

I finished it, the other half argued.

She shouldn't have demanded memories from me without asking first, replied the first part.

Would you have given them to her if she had? asked the second half nastily. Besides, it continued, You shouldn't have pressed her for more than she wanted to give you. She was powerless to stop you, but you could have stopped her any time you liked.

Now that was something to consider. Why hadn't he stopped her from taking his memories if he didn't want her to see them? Try as he might, Snape couldn't produce a single reason.

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"Are you going to be all right now?" Harry asked, as he and Hermione walked back up to the castle from Hagrid's hut.

"Yes," Hermione assured. "And thanks, Harry."

"Anytime," Harry replied.

"What are you going to do before dinner?" Hermione asked.

"I was going to practise on my broomstick some more, and…er…polish my wand."

"Would you mind if I watched you?"

"While I polish my wand?" Harry asked jokingly. "No, of course not."

They spent the rest of the evening outside on the Quidditch pitch, Hermione watching from the stands, notebook in hand, as Harry circled, swooped, and dived in mid-air. Hermione made a very appreciative audience. She gasped when Harry streaked towards the ground, applauded when he levelled out just centimetres from the ground, and laughed when he twirled comically in the air.

"Laugh now," he called, grinning, "Because it's not as funny when a Bludger has just flown past your head. Would you mind throwing this for me to catch? It's too easy if I do it myself." Harry held up a golf ball.

"Bring it here," Hermione ordered. Harry lowered himself into the stands.

"I wonder how many fits Madam Hooch would throw if I decided to just rest the entire game, sitting in the stands," Harry pondered. "Not that I would, but it would be funny."

"As long as you weren't resting with the Slytherins," Hermione supplied, taking the ball from Harry. "Ready? Go!" She hurled the ball across the pitch. Harry shot after it and returned it to her in no time. Hermione threw it in a completely different direction. After this pattern repeated several more times, Hermione simply dropped it over the edge of the stands. Harry caught it easily.

"Is there anything you can't catch?" Hermione asked, and moved her arm to throw the ball again. Harry shot off into the middle of the pitch and stopped, looking around in bewilderment.

"Where'd it go?" he called.

Hermione shrugged, but couldn't keep her face straight. Harry threatened to tickle her, and she relinquished the ball.

"It's getting dark," Harry noted. Stars winked on the horizon. "We'd better get back in. Here climb on."

"Harry, you know I don't like flying," Hermione protested.

"Get on!" Harry insisted.

"Do you promise to refrain from loop-de-loops?"

Harry nodded.

"Fine." She clambered up behind him.

"Hold tight!" Harry shot into the air.

"My notebook!" Hermione cried. It tumbled through the air beneath them. Harry pointed the nose of his broom downwards and they shot beneath the book. Harry caught it neatly, still headed for the ground, then turned the broom back up and flew a safe distance up away from the grass. Hermione squinched her eyes shut, holding Harry tightly around the middle.

"You're going to kill me," Harry complained.

"I told you I hate flying," Hermione reminded him, eyes still shut.

"Then you'll love this," Harry shouted, and headed for the ground. Hermione shrieked. The next thing she knew, the toes of her shoes were skimming the already dew-soaked grass.

"When we're on the ground again, I'm going to kill you," Hermione informed harry through gritted teeth.

"All the more reason for me to stay in the air!" Harry quipped, and shot back towards the sky. Wind whipped through Hermione's hair, sending it out like streamers behind her. With one more swoop through the air, Harry landed lightly on the ground. Hermione slid off the end of the broom, glaring at Harry.

"Never again," she said seriously. "Ever." Harry smirked and followed her inside the castle.

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Snape was not evident at the dinner table. Hermione relaxed upon realising this, and carried on amiable conversation with Harry, who was now quite forgiven. Harry related amusing stories of Dudley's aversion to magic and told of how none of his relatives would venture within four feet of Hedwig's cage. When the meal was finished, Harry and Hermione left the Great Hall and had just reached the Marble Staircase when Hermione paused.

"Actually, Harry, I think I'd like to take a walk."

"Do you want company?" he offered.

"Not really, thanks," Hermione answered. "I'll see you later." she waited until Harry had disappeared up the stairs before she turned and walked out of the great front doors and onto the shadowed lawn. Pools of golden light from castle windows fell onto the damp grass. Hermione stepped beyond their arm glow and stared up at the velvety dark sky. She had never seen so many stars, uninhibited by city lights or smog.

A breeze rustled through the trees and grass, bringing the scent of rain and pine to Hermione's senses. The lake rippled, distorting the reflection of the thousands and thousands of tiny stars far above it. The slenderest crescent of a moon hung high in the sky, shining pearly white. Hermione sighed in rapture. To be surrounded by such beauty was a blessing.

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Snape ate alone, not wanting to face Hermione among so many other people. He left his dishes by the fireplace and sat, staring at the fire for long minutes. He was overcome by a sudden wave of wanderlust, and rising gracefully, strode from his quarters. It didn't take him long at all to enter the Great Hall and then leave again through the heavy oaken doors that led outside. He moved silently down the few front steps and onto the dew-laden grass. Just before he advanced beyond the light of the castle, he saw a shadow move ahead of him.

Hermione.

She stood alone, gazing up at the moon. Snape stepped forward, moving to her side.

"God's thumbnail," he said softly.

"I always thought of it as the Cheshire Cat's Grin," Hermione told him, still staring into the sky. "It's lovely, isn't it?"

And Snape knew he'd been forgiven.

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A/N: Here is is, y'all! That's all I have for now…. Coming: Snape and Hermione hanging out and chatting, and soon a bit of the long-awaited personal interaction between our hero and heroine. :0) How patient you all are! Thanks for the reviews, everyone, and thanks to my betas, Kerichi and Aindel S. Druida.

To cajunspeed14: Just for your info, Harry can only get "messages" from Voldemort through his scar. Hermione and Voldemort have no such connection. The reason she is taking lessons is just as I have written it. Thanks for the suggestion anyway. :0)

And to faerluthio, I know that the mirror is there because Harry shattered it in anger. But why did he shatter it in his trunk instead of somewhere else? It's still there getting glass shards all over Uncle Vernon's socks, but why? :-)

Just wondering…. Is anyone in the mood for a DMHG? I have a plot with an end, this time. I already wrote it. :0)

Have a triple fab day! With knobs.