"Wake up!" he bellows across the room. I stir a little then snuggle my head underneath the pillow.
"Maybe later," I murmur underneath it.
"The Dark Lord will not care whether or not you are a morning person, Hermione, now get up." He swipes the blanket from over my shoulders. My back is suddenly exposed to the harsh sunlight and scrutiny of his penetrating eyes. I immediately flinch and wiggle. I attempt to grab the blanket back, whilst trying to preserve my modesty by keeping my chest firmly planted on the mattress.
"Give it me back, you annoying fiend!" I scream at him. The mattress drops with a thud, once again it covers me. I clutch it around my person and turn around so that I'm facing him. He sits on the edge of the bed with his wand raised.
"It's your first Occlumancy lesson," he says then carelessly tosses me my own wand. "Sit up straight and concentrate."
I look at him gob-smacked. He cannot be serious? Yet the expression on his face tells me that he is. I hitch the blanket up so that only the top of my shoulders are exposed, the fresh air stinging them and creating ugly little goosebumps.
"Do you mind if I get dressed please, sir?" I ask in a mocking studentesque fashion.
The snarl that forms across his face makes me realise that it was a futile question to ask. "Hermione, let me explain something to you. There is no point in starting these lessons on an equal footing; because in front of the Dark Lord you will not have that privilege. There is no point in having our lessons in front of a warm fire with a mug of cocoa at our sides; because that is not the correct environment in which you will put your skills into practice. Do you understand?"
Well yes, of course I understand that, you patronising chauvinist! But that doesn't mean I have to endure my first lesson in the…
Oh what's the point? He's too stubborn to argue with: "Yes Professor," I say with a cheeky smile. I straighten my back and do a militaristic salute to show he has my full attention.
But then the strangest thing happens. Snape actually begins to smile. He chuckles lightly, his chest bouncing up and down in a merry fashion. This is the first time I've seen a happy expression across his face. I realise that I must be important, in some way, to bring about such a positive effect. He raises his wand and flicks it lightly. Manifested from thin air, a little gold box tied with a crimson ribbon appears. He lifts up the lid to reveal a dozen chocolate marzipans. I inhale the almond scent long enough for it to slightly creep into my taste buds. Then he slams the lid shut again.
"I'm going to try a simple philosophy in our lessons Hermione. You do something right and I give you a reward; but if you get it wrong you lose that safety blanket you are so desperately clinging to. Okay?" He looks at me with thorough enjoyment.
"Well I can therefore guarantee I won't make a mistake," I say cockily but then think on further. "What if I was to say that every time I get something right you have to do a forfeit? After all, if I'm a good Legilimens then I should successfully manage to put the Dark Lord on an equal footing. I may as well practice that realistic scenario with you, also, Severus?"
I prepare myself for the witty comeback. Slightly disappointingly I do not receive it; he just absorbs my suggestion and nods assuredly. "Well, well Hermione, if you wish it that way. In which case in our first lesson I will not be treating you as a novice, as neither would the Dark Lord."
I wish I'd never made the suggestion. This is going to be interesting. I position myself more comfortably on the bed, silently performing a holding charm on my blanket. I expect he will count to three….
"Legilimens!" he shouts immediately.
A strange mist forms around my vision. Finally it changes into many flashing images of my past: a day at the zoo when Harriet was just learning how to walk; me in a Potions lesson in my forth year; George's first day at school; Harry and Ron at the Yule ball; George playing football with his mates. My mind spins and spins constantly with images. Finally my mind places a memory of myself in my second year of Hogwarts; I am sneaking into Snape's cupboard, down in the dungeons, to find ingredients for a Polyjuice Potion.
My mind at this point breaks off and I cringe excessively at the memory. Snape lowers his wand and a teasing smile plays across his face. I pray that my holding charm is working correctly.
"I always knew you had been in my supplies, Hermione, and if I had sufficient proof at the time I would have guaranteed you'd never had made that infamous potion." He sneers, as if no time had lapsed between then and now.
"Next time, sir, can you please inform me of what to do in order to block your entry?" I ask, mad at not being given the chance to play fair.
"No Hermione, the Dark Lord will simply kill you if you block his entry. I'm going to teach you how to block certain images and select ones you want him to see. I see that many of those memories were ones of your children, so let's use that as our theme. On my next attempt I don't want to know anything about your family; so if I didn't know you at all I would assume you were unmarried and childless."
I like this idea. If I succeed in doing this my family may become better protected. I focus carefully, thinking of parts of my life that have been away from family; such as this recent adventure; my time at Hogwarts and days at work.
"One… two…three… Legilimens! " Snape booms slowly, so as to give me a chance this time.
Images of Harry come to mind immediately: him catching the snitch; producing a Patronus; using his Invisibility Cloak. Then an image of him waiting alone by the deserted lake, dishevelled and unshaven, comes to mind. I block it away immediately and as I do images of the previous night come to the surface. I observe helplessly the overhead conversation with Draco; the argument; and then the bit that followed…
I pull away immediately, physically falling back onto the bed. For a few moments I lose consciousness; then stir again by the sweet smell of almond. Instinctively I pick up one sweet; plop it into my mouth and chew.
"It's a shame you stopped as the memory was beginning to get interesting," he teases. I reach out my leg from under the mattress and kick him firmly. "No need to get moody with me. You willingly experienced it once last night. I'm sure you can't be that put off by seeing it from a third-person angle. Sit back up and get ready."
I begin to blush a little. How dare he be so utterly frank about these things?
"This time I don't mind you using memories of your family. However, if I see that ugly Potter boy's face one more time I swear that blanket, along with your pathetic attempt of a charm, will disapparate to the moon."
And with this we continued for about two or three hours; until all the marzipan chocolate had disappeared. After beginning to gain control over my own thoughts and emotions I actually began enjoying myself, not that I should be doing this at all. My behaviour this morning should be a mixture of embarrassment and disgrace. I made my decision though, I don't expect anyone else to understand. I'm not sure if I understand it yet myself.
"I have to go now," I say, and pick myself up. I scurry across the room, my feet pattering across the floor within the restrictions of my blanket. I reach the bathroom area and pull over the curtain.
"Where to?" he asks sternly. "Don't tell me you're going to see Potter."
"No, something quite worse than that," I say as I triumphantly pull on my robes. I now feel a certain amount of dignity is regained.
"Then I have no answer," he retorts. "There is nothing worse."
"This is getting rather pathetic," I say as I re-enter the bedroom and brush my hair into some sort of sensibility. "If you care to know, I'm off to do patrol duty. You know, keeping up the pretences of being a Death Eater, for Malfoy? I'll be on watch-out in the South Tower for the next three hours, if you should need me."
I head for the door, half expecting him to follow with some notion of me either not being trusted alone or incapable of doing the job. I don't receive either, so maybe he's finally beginning to know me. Time away from Snape will give me chance to think.
The South Tower is a brilliant place to contemplate; with the North Sea rushing towards the sharp cliffs; yet in the horizon the water is perfectly tranquil. The salty air is fresh on my face, purging away any sweat and tears that clogged there last night. I can see again into the long distance. I am facing England and facing home. I want to stay here forever. I'm sat in a small wooden seat with nothing to do but report any ships that may approach. Not that any dare venture this far north; no land can be seen for miles; not even the tip of Scotland. I heave out another heavy-hearted sigh and rest my head against the wall. All I need to do now is be careful not to fall asleep.
Without any warning, the door swings open. Three looming figures, with their wands raised, approach me.
"Granger," one snarls, the tallest but slimmest. The other two hang back, one on either side, symmetrically. The middle man lifts down his hood. I'm not even slightly surprised to see Draco's smarmy face.
"Uh – Draco, you sure this is a good idea? Your dad didn't allow you to…"
"Shut up Goyle!" Draco bites back. He spins around to face Crony Number One. I take this opportunity to lift my wand out of my…
"Expelliarmus!" shouts Crabbe, who unlike the other two is still alert. My wand speeds out of my hand, despite my desperate attempt to grab it back. Crabbe catches it in one of his large podgy hands. Damn, I gave his innovative too little credit.
Wandless, my heart begins to race, a torpedo forming inside my gut. Quickly I look out the window and measure the distance down to the sea. It is too far. I realise that the only survivable exit is blocked by two very large men. Draco begins to advance, a look of sheer pleasure on his face. I wonder if it will be the Crucatious Curse again or whether he will simply push me up and over the ledge. No, that would be too easy; he is a Malfoy after all. I steel my body and wait for a much more physical attack.
"Impero! " he shouts. "Now Granger, take me to where Potter is."
A green light illuminates at the foot of the door, leading out of the South Tower. Crabbe and Goyle move out of my way as I pass. I feel my master's wand, like a stick, pushing me along from behind.
"You promised we could have some fun with her after, didn't you?" insists Goyle.
"Yes, Malfoy, we're not kids anymore. We only do The Dark Lord's bidding unquestionably. Our help nowadays comes with a price," reinforces Crabbe.
As I turn to face the stairwell the green light illuminates each step before me. It forms a little ball of light. When I tread on it, it simply disappears and reappears on the next step. I continue to follow eagerly, all the way down the stairwell.
"Hurry up," groans my master to one of his fellows behind me. Awkward shuffling is heard as the two men, too obese to fit comfortably in the path, follow my master.
Once completing this part of the journey; the green light urges me to move down a corridor and then another to the left. I turn a sharp corner and the light rests upon an old oak door. As I move closer I see it burning on the latch. I use the latch to open the door. As I open it I feel an excited nudge from my master behind me; he wants me to continue into the room.
The light erupts into dazzling emerald flames at the fireplace. My body is filled with the overwhelming desire to enter. I can hear gasps and hushed voices behind me; but they are worthless compared to the burning feeling inside of me. Apprehensively I put one foot forward. The warmth shoots up into my entire body. I fulfil the transition and wait for my master to join me. He does with much speed.
I clearly pronounce, "Twelve Grimmauld Place."
The flames consume me but only for thirty seconds. After I am released I see a kitchen. I step out of the fireplace.
"Wait here," orders my master. I stand firmly.
A man walks toward me, I recognise him as Harry Potter.
"What are you doing here Hermione? What's going on?" he asks. I do not reply; I was not ordered to. "Snap out of it 'Mione, come on, wake up. Stop staring into space like that!" He begins to shake me. I feel uncomfortable with his use of force; but I do not try and stop him.
"There you are!" shouts my master. I look toward him for my next command but he doesn't go to me. He goes to Harry Potter, his wand raised. The two men prepare for a duel. I stand still and watch. Many different colours begin to squirt from the two wands, as the two of them run and dodge from every angle.
My master grabs hold of my arm and hides behind my body: "I command you to shield me."
I keep my body pressed against his and my eye watchful on the man wanting to attack us. I make sure that he cannot hex my master; not without hexing me.
"Finite Incantrum," yells Potter and a dazzling light engulfs my senses. "Didn't think of that one, did you Malfoy? Stupefy!"
My head hits the floor with a bang, my eyes dazzling, presumably from the sunlight. I must have nodded off and fallen from the chair. Why can't I hear the sea anymore?
I open my eyes to see a frozen Draco Malfoy, rigid on the floor. I look up; hovering over him is Harry. Adjusting to my surroundings I see an old table, chairs and a kitchen unit. I pick myself up. What the hell am I doing in Grimmauld Place?
