Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderful world of Harry Potter or it's characters. I also do not claim to have definitive knowledge of the principles of Occlumency, but I did get this idea in my head, and it works out well for me, so don't burst my bubble!
AN: Also, thanks to BrennaM for her wonderful new chapter in 'The New Threat', it motivated me to put pen to paper again despite being dead tired from work, so future chapters are currently being written. Not to mention the ever-present maniacal laughter and dire predictions of evil being afoot! Thanks to the readers, specifically Rane2920072 who called me a goddess in her review and made me preen like a bigheaded fool for the rest of the day. What can I say? I am a slave to flattery, its good for my fragile ego.
The last class on Monday afternoon was finally over. Dinner was fast approaching, and Harry had dashed off to the library to rout Hermione out, trying to convince her that she didn't have to finish all her homework before going to the meal. Hermione insisted on completing her assignments anyway so that she wouldn't have to worry about lack of sleep while trying to finish them later on in the evening. Resigned, Harry had waited for her to scrawl the last three inches of her History of Magic essay instead of going back to the common room when she waved him off. Instead, he'd opted to lurk around her table, thumbing through several of her books, irritating her immensely. When finished, he helped her pack and escorted her down the hall, trying to make conversation.
"I still can't believe that you have detention again! Why didn't you tell me and Ron before?"
"Honestly Harry, as if telling you two would have changed a single thing in the first place. Or if it did, it would have made you much more disrespectful toward Professor Snape during class, landing you in the same boat as me, and losing a bunch of house points," was her logical reply.
Harry in turn snorted. "Like you've got any room to talk! The way you were glaring at him when he reminded you of your appointment tonight, I'm surprised he didn't dock more points during class."
"Unlike you, I can time those things for when his back is turned. I'd think that by now you would have learned the skill, but obviously I was wrong." She sighed while shaking her head in a way that conveyed a 'where did I go wrong' sentiment.
"What did you do to end up with the pleasure of his company again tonight anyway?" Sarcasm was evident in his tone.
"Three more."
"What?" His jaw nearly dropped with shock and he stopped dead, thinking he'd misunderstood.
"I said, I have three more."
"What the bloody hell has gotten into you lately?"
"Don't have the faintest idea what you are talking about," she answered airily, continuing down the hallway.
"That's a load of bull and you know it, but if you, the great know-it-all, Hermione Granger, are going to pretend ignorance, allow me to enlighten you."
She rolled her eyes in response. "What a drama queen."
"From the girl who stormed into the common room and snogged Ron last week!" he laughed.
"I did not snog him, you exaggerate the situation too much." All she had to do was stick her nose in the air for her image to match her tone.
"Did too, not to mention that you ordered him to take you on a date." Harry decided that he enjoyed winding Hermione up.
"Are you sixteen, or six? I did not snog him, snogging involves tongues, and I didn't order him, I accepted the 'invitation' he extended to me a couple of weeks ago. You were there, remember?"
"You used your bossy voice."
"My bossy voice?" This caused her to shoot him an arch look. "Obviously you have too much time on your hands if you took the time to classify the tone of voice I use."
"I was playing chess with Ron." He held his hands up in self-defense, hoping to ward off any further lecturing.
"All the more reason to keep your mind on the game," she cut in.
"Oh come on, we both know he's going to win anyway. I can afford to let my mind wander."
"He always wins because you clearly cannot remain focused," she sighed.
"If I couldn't remain focused on the important things, I wouldn't be aware of the fact that you've avoided the question by turning the discussion around on me," he laughed down at her.
"What was the question again?" she asked, echoing Harry's chuckle.
"I'm not sure… Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?"
"Hang on now, I'm not responsible for knowing what's running through your little head. In fact, given that you're a teenage boy, I'd probably be disgusted by half the things running through your mind." At this, she mock shuddered in horror.
"Hey!" Harry elbowed her. "I'm not like Ron, who goes on about having Padma and Pavarti at the same time."
"Ewww… Harry!" Hermione attempted to cover her ears, failing when her messenger bag slipped off her shoulder to the crook of her elbow. "Don't tell me things like that! Not something I ever want to visualize."
"You're doing it again," he observed.
"Am not."
"Yes, you are. We were talking about you and your recent bought of insanity."
"I am not insane!"
"Maybe not, but you are acting like it," he pointed out.
"I resent that!" she wasn't sure where this conversation was going anymore, it seemed all over the place and slightly reminiscent of kindergartener bickering what with the 'am not', 'are too' element of the discussion.
"Resent it all you want, but you will explain yourself." He crossed his arms and pinched his lips tight, obviously trying to imitate Professor McGonagall, but the amusement in his eyes spoiled the effect.
"Nothing to explain, problem solved." She gave him a cheeky grin.
Not to be dissuaded, he railroaded his friend into a cubby by an old tapestry. He fixed her with a hard stare, wishing he had the power of legilimency to figure out what was going on in her mind. "Hermione, stop. Merlin knows you've been there for me, but you've been nutters lately, and I haven't seen you so… un-Hermione like before. Asking for jinxes, kissing Ron, detentions, waking me up in the middle of the night for a stupid book…Well maybe that last one is normal for you, but still. Not trying to corner you or anything, just…I'm worried about you."
"Comparing notes with Remus now?" she laughed, but it didn't last long when Harry refused to follow suit. "I'm stressed out is all, you guys are always saying that I'm mental. Now isn't any different you know," she offered as an explanation.
"But it is. Last year, okay with Umbridge and OWLs to study for and the DA, I could see why you were mental, I was feeling pretty mental too."
"Yeah, and a hysterical Cho and Voldemort playing with your head had nothing to do with it," she interjected.
Harry looked down, shuffling his feet uncomfortably, "Two points to you for that."
"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that, and besides, neither situation was of your making anyway." Hermione kicked herself mentally and tried to backpedal from the thoughtlessness of her words.
"It's all right, really," he reassured her, "just something I would have expected Ron to say, not you." He shrugged, then pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "Tell me 'Mione, otherwise I'm going to think you're keeping secrets from me. You know how I feel about that…"
Hermione blinked. "It's not a secret Harry. I just know that you've been going through a lot. And now that you are dealing with some of it…" She trailed off, waving her hand to encompass all the issues he'd been faced with. "I had a talk with Professor Dumbledore the other day." Here she leaned against the wall, trying to relax, to become nonchalant, closing her eyes to avoid his green stare. "At some point it dawned on me that we aren't trained for war, and won't be if we stick to the school's curriculum, and I guess I sort of let my mind run wild with the notion. I've been trying to figure out the sorts of things that might be useful, but I don't really have any idea what I'm doing because I'm only sixteen. And if I think too much about it, I get scared, so I try not to think about it too terribly much except that I know it contributes to being unprepared. And that just makes me scared again… And I really don't want to go home for Christmas even though my parents aren't giving me a choice in the matter…And I can't shake the feeling that something bad will happen and I won't be here for you," she finished in a rush.
"Ron's right, no one person should be able to feel that much at one time." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck.
"Perhaps you two can't but when have I ever done anything in halves? No, I'm either completely mental or completely sane." She tried to laugh it off, eyes still squeezed shut. "You'll probably have loads of fun over the hols since I won't be here to nag about studying."
"You kidding me? It'll be non-stop chess games peppered with Palm reading for Ron's divination homework. There's only so many times I can handle someone predicting a confrontation that holds the rest of my life in check until it happens. Trust me, we'll miss you." He reached out to give a friendly squeeze to her arm.
"You could always play a bit of Quidditch, there should be enough people who stay behind for that."
"Or I could study, just to make you proud of me."
Hermione cracked her eyes open and looked at her friend. "I'm proud of you anyway Harry. But if you really find yourself in need of something to do, I'd suggest that you work through your feelings about the headmaster." Her voice was quiet, carefully devoid of the 'bossy' tone.
"He hasn't come to talk to me about anything. It's just like last year where he avoided me at all costs." His tone turned slightly petulant.
"That was something else we sort of talked about the other day. No, not like that you prat," she said at Harry's glare. "There was no great divulging of your deep, dark secrets, or picking apart your actions. It started out because of me, and the fact that Marietta had changed my rounds for later at night. Professor Dumbledore noticed the change, as well as how tired I looked and then decided to invite me up for some hot chocolate and a chat. He does know about your nightmares, but he won't do anything about them." Hermione gave him a measuring look, waiting to see if Harry would comment, but he just stood waiting for her to continue. "He wants to help, but wants you to feel like you have choices and control over your life. He's waiting for you to be ready to go to him, because until you are ready, you aren't going to listen to anything he says. I think he's right, and deep down, if you really think about it, you know he's right too."
Harry sighed, "Yeah, I guess so. I'll think about going up to talk to him over the holiday okay? No promises, but I will try."
"Something else he reminded me of too, that you, Ron and I are stronger together than when we are apart."
"What's the big deal about that?"
"Just that we need to stick together and support each other is all. Which we all ready do anyway." Hermione smiled at him. "I mean look at it this way, I haven't been totally normal lately, and you made me talk to you about it. It's like we can't all be freaked out at once, we have to sort of take it in turns."
"So are you saying that today you go round the bend and I comfort you, then tomorrow we switch and I get to have a go at being nutters?" Harry smiled mischievously.
"Er, something like that, yeah," she confirmed, wondering what he was plotting.
"You know, this has got to be the stupidest conversation we've ever had," he pointed out.
"No, the stupidest conversation we had was over the summer when we debated on who was the best professor out of Snape, Binns or Trelawney. Remember, Snape won, hands down."
"Still can't believe you had me agreeing that he was the best of the three. Fine, it's the dumbest idea then," Harry announced.
"Well, today is your day to be strong for me. Tomorrow, when it's my day, I'll be logical and think of something better, okay?"
He huffed a petulant sigh. "Fine…rob me of my opportunity to have a go at running through the halls like a mad man. It's not fair to me, I don't like it."
"I wouldn't expect you to, and you can still run through the halls like a mad man. You could do it starkers for all I care, just don't get caught, and don't do it where I can see. I'd be scarred for life. At any rate, I feel better now, so you've done your job. Let's get dinner before Ron notices that we are late."
"Think we could get Ron to take a turn on being strong? Then we could both act like four year olds and make him sort everything out. It'd drive him up the wall, don't you think?"
"Sounds like a good plan to me, and since he's such a good friend, he doesn't have a choice. He has to be there for us." She giggled.
"You have to tell him though."
"Uh-uh, I'm crazy today, remember, it's your job."
"Bugger…"
Hermione didn't even make it the two steps through the doorway, and by then, it was too late to take preventative measures. She couldn't even find the professor, despite the fact that she knew he was lurking somewhere in the shadows of the darkened classroom. Her head throbbed with pressure, images from her conversation with Harry paraded behind the closed lids of her eyes. Hermione leaned back, grateful for the door jam digging into her spine, supporting her while she tried to push the intruder out of her mind.
Just as she managed to muster enough power and energy to muscle the foreign entity out, the weight was gone. Her head was buzzing with the absence. The change was so sudden that she knew it was not due to any efforts on her part, but rather due to the professor acknowledging that she was not equal to the task of throwing him out. She finished entering the room, not bothering to voice the unfairness of his tactics. Would she really expect anyone who was preparing to rape her mind to announce their attempt first? Instead she moved down to the front row of desks, sitting down as she waited for the Potion Master's assessment.
"How… disappointing Miss Granger," he practically purred with pleasure at her failure, not sounding disappointed in the slightest as he emerged from the shadows to lurk behind his desk.
Hermione nearly bristled with indignation at the remark. But she hadn't expected to get it right in her fledgling effort, with nothing more than the fundamentals learned from a book. But she did have to admit that part of the failure was her own fault for entering the room without first collecting her thoughts and preparing for the hours ahead with someone she knew to be merciless in his dealings with her.
She did spare a grateful thought toward Harry for taking the time to make her talk about her stress. Who knew how relaxing the act of laughing really was. At any rate, having vented her concerns, even without picking apart and analyzing the causes, she was still more calm and self-possessed than she might have been when confronted with her own error.
"In your research on Occlumency, have you taken the time to review its diametric skill, Legilimency?"
"No Sir," she answered, vowing to remedy the situation as soon as possible. Something she should have done instead of going to Hogsmeade or listening to Harry recount his time with Remus at the Three Broomsticks. Yesterday had been spent writing the essay outlining the principles of occlumency.
"Pity that you, the insufferable know-it-all would fall so short in her academic pursuits. But perhaps because this is more of a hobby than a required subject, you do not see fit to apply yourself fully," he sneered.
"I am well aware that this is not a game Sir, and I do not intend to treat it as such," she retorted quietly.
He raised an eyebrow, smug expression still on his face. "Very well," he acceded, "I would hate to believe I was wasting my time on someone who was only interested in dabbling with developing this skill. Had you read up on the art of legilimens, you may have been aware that a skilled person can detect the presence of another, even when hidden from sight. Armed with this information, a diligent pupil would have been prepared for an attack." He smirked down at her, making a great show of crossing his arms in displeasure, which warred with her knowledge that he must have been thrilled to catch her out in failure. Not that she expected him to break out in spontaneous dance or anything, but the signs were there if you knew what to look for. He had glittering eyes instead of a cold mask, the trace of superiority present in the underlying snark of his usual teaching tone, a smirk instead of a frown.
Still, she didn't miss what he had said, or the message behind it. He was skilled enough to sense her presence outside the door. It also went a long way toward explaining why he had nearly caught Harry under the invisibility cloak on several occasions, and how the headmaster could virtually 'see' Harry and impart crucial pearls of wisdom when needed most. And Professor Snape had just implied that she, as a diligent pupil, would be expected to shield her mind even as she approached the room in the future. To do otherwise might incur his wrath, and thus give him an excuse to terminate the extracurricular training. She was subject to his indulgence in this matter.
"Wool gathering, Miss Granger? We are not even ten minutes into our time together."
"No Sir, sorry Professor." She felt disconcerted to be the sole focus of his attention. At least in his classes, she could allow her mind to process ideas and thoughts from start to finish while he stalked around to criticize the other students. She would have to stow her thoughts away for later as there was no other distraction for him in the room. She recalled the information she had read, putting the facts to use as she built up a defensive wall around her mind.
Professor Snape must have sensed her efforts, tilting his head slightly in narrow-eyed consideration before nodding with faint approval. Hermione watched him circle his desk, taking a seat and occupying himself with a stack of parchments. She'd opened her mouth to ask a question when the unmistakable press of his mind caused her to gasp. While it wasn't as surprising as the first time, the sheer force of his mind battering against hers bordered on discomfort, even as she gathered the strength to prevent his invasion. And yet, all her efforts did nothing to halt the inevitable breach of her defenses. Her mind was not yet disciplined enough, and his was hardened by years of pain, torture, and necessity.
Minutes after the battle of minds began, it was over with the professor as the victor. She saw a memory of Harry and Ron finishing a game of chess before turning toward the teacups, Ron waving his arms about and Harry smiling. Then his presence was gone, again withdrawn rather than repelled, leaving her with the onset of a very real headache.
Hermione rubbed her temples, waiting for the buzzing in her ears to dissipate again. "I thought the idea behind legilimency was that the legilimens didn't alert the victim to his presence by being more subtle than a hammer to the head." She opened her eyes, trying to focus on a knot in the worktable surface, unaware that she had spoken out loud until the answering retort was delivered.
"Since you arrived for tonight's session so woefully unprepared, I saw no need to waste the energy or effort required for subtly or finesse upon you," he hissed. "Like your friend, Mr. Potter, the direct approach seemed most appropriate for you as you are not ready to appreciate the finer nuances of arts involving the mind."
"I-I'm sorry Sir, I d-didn't mean to imply…" She blushed; mortified that she said something that would make the all ready surly professor even more hypercritical. She felt the light brushing sensation of butterfly wings against her thoughts, but didn't even try to build any barrier between herself and the older man.
"But you did imply all the same," he drawled in an oily tone. "I assure you that I could find your secrets and leave you unaware of it save for the idea of a daydream in your empty little head."
"I can feel you in my head right now." Her vision focused enough that she could lift her head and meet his eyes.
"Then push me out. You aren't even trying, and I need not use any attention to pick through your memories," he challenged irritably, resuming the task of marking student essays.
"I have a headache and my temples are throbbing," her tone carried a hint of whining, but it was the truth, and the discomfort was enough to distract her from her task.
"Excuses, Miss Granger?" He flashed a disturbing smile, his yellowed teeth making her wince.
"Not excuses Sir, just stating the facts." She brushed a few locks of hair out of her face, securing them behind her ear.
"Are you quitting Miss Granger?" his tone conveyed a very clear 'I knew she was too weak to succeed' message. Or perhaps she herself was being a bit over sensitive, but a challenge was a challenge, real or imagined.
"I am not quitting Sir," she retorted, her tone flippant.
"Well in that respect you differ from your other dunderheaded housemates at least. Now gather some of your thrice-damned courage, block your mind or quit wasting my time and get out." He snarled the last words.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, angry over the slur against her fellow Gryffindors and gave a firm mental shove without being aware of actually doing it. And as simple as that, she was alone in her head, still victim to her now throbbing temples.
"Fetch five of the school cauldrons, Miss Granger, and prepare them for use."
She jumped at his voice, confused by his order. "Professor?"
"You still have a detention to serve, Miss Granger. Surely you realize that punishment is implied when one serves detention? You ought to have something to show for your evening in my classroom. Contrary to what you may think about your pathetic attempts at occlumency, the idea is to provide an adequate cover for your time in my presence. As you were sniveling about a paltry headache mere minutes ago, you will brew several batches of the headache relief draught found on the chalkboard. I will fetch the ingredients for you since students seem to have sticky fingers when in my supply room." He watched for a reaction, but she didn't oblige him. "Well? What are you waiting fore? The cauldrons, Miss Granger!" he barked.
Hermione went through the motions of setting up the cauldrons, taking one to the sink and scouring it to remove the green remnants from a prior potions experiment. She checked over the instructions on the board, noting idly that it was one she had brewed in fourth year, and not too complicated. By the time she set flames to the appropriate heat under each cauldron, Professor Snape returned with an armload of ingredients, which he dumped into a pile. Given that he issued no further orders, she took it as a sign to begin preparing the potions. Always the methodical person, she began measuring out the ingredients, lining them up in front of each cauldron.
While measuring the water into the bottom of the fourth cauldron, she felt the sensation of fingers pressing in on her head. A quick look darted over her shoulder confirmed that Snape indeed was focused on her, trying to push through the defenses she swathed around her mind while measuring the other ingredients. She allowed herself a slight twisting of the lips, thinking that perhaps he thought she would let her guard down now that there was a task for her to perform. She continued pouring the water into the fourth cauldron, moving on to the fifth when he abruptly shoved into her head, abandoning all pretense of delicacy. His action caused her to slosh the water, dousing the flame under the final vessel.
She spun around, her head ringing with the movement, as she tried to glare at the potions master. And she would have were it not for the fact that her eyes were a bit blurred by the sight of Ron looming in for a kiss superimposed in her head. Embarrassment warred with irritation; it was a private moment, even if it had come to nothing! She knew that this whole exercise was going to be invasive to her privacy, but knowing something and actually experiencing it were two separate things. Her indignation was such that she managed another unconsciously rough shove against the invader, not enough to force him out, but enough to push him toward the slightly less personal memory of her Arithmancy class earlier in the day.
"Progress, Miss Granger… And yet, still sadly short of the mark. Your intent should be to force me out completely, not fumble for a less…amorous memory. And while you are standing there with your mouth hanging open, the liquid you measured into the cauldrons is boiling away. Ten points for your lack of diligence." He smirked at her, daring a response.
Hermione whirled back to the worktable, lip curling in anger. She reflected on the nerve of the man to deduct points for her understandable unsettled mental state. She counted to ten, carefully mopping up the spilled water and reigniting the flame under the fifth cauldron, measuring out the water, and then topping off the others so that they were all equal. She dropped in each ingredient, stirring the correct number of turns, moving on to the next pot and repeating the process in assembly line precision. The repetitive steps freed her mind to continue the mental preparations for Professor Snape's attacks.
Twice more he attempted to pry into her head, and twice more he succeeded, but without interrupting the creation of the potions. Learning from the first attack, the instant she felt him brushing against her wall, she would stop what she was doing and step away from the table. At this point, she was unwilling to give him an opportunity to dock more points if she botched any of the draughts. And the second time it took longer for him to breach her fortifications, yet he still managed to, and she imagined he wasn't even using a fraction of his full talent to do so. Still she figured one had to grasp at the smaller victories in order to stay motivated and keep moving forward.
A third and final trespass was made as she was bottling and labeling each of the potions. There was no tentative brushing, not even a gentle nudge that he'd been using before increasing the intrusion. By this time she was not only tired, but her head, still in pain, flared with a sharp pain behind her eyes. Wincing, she felt the walls crumble like sand, watched as Harry thrashed on the couch, calling out to his dead godfather, and crying as he flailed. Her memory of the night he mistook her for a death eater and resulted in her landing against the wall. It was too much, and while other things were simply embarrassing for Snape to know, this wasn't her secret to share. Not to mention that Harry would not want this man, of all people, to see him in such a vulnerable state.
It stopped without any warning, or so she thought. Then again, there was the sound of shattering glass and the professor was coated in the brownish liquid of the headache draught she'd been brewing. A look at his desk confirmed that she'd thrown not one, but two doses of the potion at him in retaliation, shards of glass littering the desktop. Hermione covered her mouth in horror, terror causing her to blanch and her eyes to widen comically. She watched the jaw of the professor twitch, the audible sound of teeth grinding reaching her ears. She dared not breathe and toyed with the idea that she should either run and never look back, or duck for cover under one of the tables.
His nostrils flared in annoyance. "Fifty points from Gryffindor Miss Granger." His voice sounded tight, as though he was keeping his temper in tight control. "If you ever seek to physically harm me when I'm assisting you in a project you requested, I…will…personally…have…you…expelled." Each word was deliberately bitten off.
She cringed, not only for the loss of points, but the fact that his voice had turned glacially cold, to the point that she'd wanted to find a cloak to put on to combat the drop in temperature from his words. The problem was the positively sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that usually alerted her to the fact that she had done something terribly, horribly wrong, mostly due to the professor's disapproval instead of his threat to toss her out of the school. There was nothing worse than an adult's disapproval in her actions. "Yes, Sir!" she squeaked. "I'm… I'm sorry Sir, but you have to understand," she rushed on hoping to get her justification out before Snape cut her off and ordered her out, never to return. "It's one thing to sift through the memories to get at me, but that is personal to Harry too, and you have no right to see those and use them against him! He'd die if he knew what you saw…" She stopped, seeing the flinty look in Snape's eyes.
"Just like Potter's field trip into my memories isn't it Miss Granger? He had no right to do that, and yet he did. What do you think the Dark Lord will try to do if he gets his hands on you? I suggest, foolish girl, that if you want to keep those memories private, you redouble your efforts to block your mind, or your friend will most certainly be dead if the wrong people see those memories. We are through tonight. You aren't completely hopeless, Miss Granger, yet neither is your progress is promising." The muscle in his jaw twitched as he bit back what were likely more acerbic comments.
"Yes Sir, will you permit me to return on Wednesday to resume my efforts?" She tried to sound meek, staring down at the floor for good measure.
"If you can control yourself. I hesitate to ask, but do you have any questions?" His tone was such that didn't invite her normal inquisitiveness, not that he ever did in the first place.
"Ummm, actually Professor, I had two." She waited for his tight nod before continuing. "Harry said that you used your wand to cast the legilimens spell on him during your sessions last year, and yet you didn't with me tonight, why is that?"
"Mr. Potter," his lips curled around the name with hatred, "has the benefit of the Dark Lord's protections, even on an unconscious level. You know why wizards use wands and that verbal invocations of spells are stronger than silent spells. Also, the headmaster suggested that I take a more structured approach, should I ever find myself teaching the skill of occlumency again. I am to start out slowly and work up to full use of my legilimens as my student improves. Do not get your hopes up for over achievement Miss Granger, you will not be mastering this anytime soon."
Which confirmed her assumption that he was not even using a fraction of his talent against her. Merlin, but she had a long way to go… "Why is it so painful? My head is aching and my ears are ringing, and in general, it's very uncomfortable."
Here the Potion Master smirked. "The pain is relative to the person experiencing it. You will eventually become accustom to the sensations, or learn to block others from getting into your head. The residual side effects stem from the fact that your mind has never been invaded by magic until now. Someone like your friend Potter, who lives with the echo of someone else in his mind is accustomed to the sensation of a presence constantly in his head. I would wager that if he defeats the Dark Lord, he will feel odd without the presence lurking in his mind, having never been without it in his conscious memory. You too shall toughen up as time goes on, if you don't, the death eaters that find you will use you and then dispose of you. I presume that is all?" Dismissal was evident in his voice.
"Yes Sir," she acknowledged, knowing that she had trespassed on his good graces enough, especially after chucking flasks of potion at him. She nicked a bottle from the table and darted out the door before he could stop her, making her way back to the common room with all the speed she could manage. She had much to think on, and more studying to do before Wednesday evening.
So I'm hoping that Snape was suitably Snape-like for everyone, I do believe I was in a bit of a snit when I wrote this, so it was helpful in the overall tone of the occlumency session. Like it? Hate it? Review constructively please.