Special Notes: Thanks to Ladyvohn and Fluff, who noticed my blunder and told me about it. Dont know if you had noticed butI had acidentaly posted this chapter on my other story. Now it's all solved, or soI think.

Disclaimer and notes: this time not only do I have to admit that they are just borrowed characters from J.K. Rowling, but also I have to thank Nytd, for allowing me to use a fragment from her works (adapted naturally to suit this story). I am referring to the scene between Snape and Harry's little girl. the original scene takes place between Snape (of course) and one of the O.C. teacher's six year old boy.

And the handkerchief with winking snakes is also borrowed from somewhere though I can't remember from where.

Chapter 13 Memories of Today

'Hermione, look what charming visitors we have.' The headmaster told her.

And for a while they both talked about the child and the bright future that expected, such a promising witch. The fact that she could already mount a broom was enough to attest to this, and also to Harry's recklessness in letting an infant near something as dangerous as a broom could turn out to be.

Though she didn't have much time left until her first class so she bid her goodbye. The headmaster accompanied her to the stairs.

'You look better, might I add.'

Hermione accepted the pleasantries with a barely discernable nod and a somehow bitter smile.

Sitting here, talking with him in this cosy atmosphere she felt at home. And he fit every bit in the role of great father, well a few more greats should be added. And he had always been so nice to be around, always to give a boost of confidence even in the most dreadful of times. And she needed him most at this point but for fear of seeing his eyes lose their tinkle she held back from asking counsel. It wasn't the right moment. With the little child entertaining both of them with her antics she couldn't have picked a worse timing.

'Simply pretending to have dropped dead would not have solved your worries. I would be deceiving you by pretending it is the last misfortune you will have to bear. I'm afraid more ill fate expects you, my dear.

'Yes I believe you …Albus, and I see no solution for my predicament.'

"When ever a solution doesn't come. We should try to find the answer within ourselves. It usually is something you already know but perhaps you forgot." It was such a typical answer, a dumbledorism one may call it.

Hermione levelled her gaze with that of the old wizard. She didn't quite know what he was going at.

Her meeting with the headmaster had unsettled her a bit. But it wasn't until after her first classes had finished that she allowed herself to ponder more on the hidden meaning. Dumbledore's observations unsettled her. He had always seemed to know everything. And yet she still felt uneasiness when he mentioned things she was desperately trying to hide, from the world, like her past and especially her mind.

There was to be a short staff meeting today, so she headed for the teachers lounge, at this hour the place was most usually filled with people, but if she thought about it, it was the best way to hide from them, by being in their midst, no one seemed to notice her anymore. She hoped she could just sit back and listen to the other teachers talking of their classes, or their private affairs, she wasn't snooping usually she didn't even remember what she had heard once she stepped over the threshold of the room.

However what she saw once she entered the room she was sure she would never forget.

A.N. I have no other way to go, I must change for the purpose of amusement and for simply making a little fun of Snape, the point of view, though not for long.

On the afternoon of the staff meeting, Snape had cursed his way through the last bumbling Gryffindors of the day and decided to go to the staff room early and read for a while. That way he could be sure to grab one of the chairs that would insure him a quick getaway from the meeting.

He walked into the room to find it nearly deserted except for Silva Sprout and the Potters' girl. What was her name? Mariel. That was it.

Snape looked at Sprout as he entered and nodded in acknowledgment. He settled himself into a chair with the latest volume of the Alchemy Society Review and began to read.

' Are you going to be here until the staff meeting?' Sprout was addressing him.

'Yes.' He answered her without looking up.

'Oh good. Would you mind?' She asked. 'I have one or two things I need to do before the others get here.'

'Mind?' He looked up distractedly.

Sprout indicated the little girl playing on the floor. 'Keep an eye on her? I'm sure you can handle half an hour.' She threw it out as a challenge so he couldn't say no.

Snape had a sharp retort poised but then thought better of saying what he was going to in front of the child. 'Fine.' He said stiffly.

Sprout left him alone with the child, and he went back to reading.

After a few minutes he became aware of the fact that someone was watching him as he read. Very slowly he lowered the journal to glare at the very small girl standing before him.

'Hi, Severus.' Mel said cheerfully.

Snape raised an eyebrow at being addressed in such a manner by the four year old and lowered the journal further to have a better look at the red haired child that was becoming a nuisance.

'Good afternoon, miss Potter.' He replied coolly.

'Mell' she corrected him in a very naive way. Mel, of course never noticed the tone of voice the wizard used and stepped closer to look at the publication Snape had in his hands. 'Are you reading Alchemy Society Review?'

'Yes,' this time he lifted his gaze from the sheet. 'And might I inquire how is it that a four year old knows about this journal on potion brewing?'

'Mione reads it all the time. And I'm five.' Answered the little girl, in such a serious tone it almost made him laugh.

'Heard you teach potions here.'

On looking up, Snape behold the little girl standing about two feet, with her clear green eyes gazing steadily at him.

'You have very reliable sources then.' The trace of sarcasm was never felt by the little girl but it was oh so present.

'Mione' she answered monosyllabically (A.N. it's actually two syllables I know, or even three), while turning her attention back on a green dragon.

After a few moments of peace which Snape used to study the journal, the little girl decided she preferred a chat to playing with her dolls. 'You know, I like potions as well.'

'You do?' he asked not even looking at the little girl. She had come forward and was struggling to climb up on the stool next to Snape.

'Yes, Mione taught me things, I know a lot about potions.' She answered as she leaned on his knee to surveyed with great interest the various specimens of plants and fungi portrayed in the magazine.

'Tell me child, what Potion is made by mixing asphodel and wormwood?' Snape questioned her, removing his magazine from under the scrutiny of the girl.

'Asphodel and wormwood make a potion called Draught of the Living Death.' She answered promptly. Although she did not abandon her purpose and crawled a little bit closer to Snape until she was sitting on his knee. It seemed she was positively fascinated by the variety of dried beetles depicted on the page.

Snape might have been impressed by the little girl, but there was no way he was going to let it show, and he was most certainly not going to let himself become some sort of a rocking chair.

Without warning, Snape caught the kid under the armpits, lifted her up and placed her rear end down on the table.

'Look, you runny-nosed little nuisance. You're going to keep to yourself or I'll turn you into a toad.'

The kid's face went pale. Snape held her a moment, then he released his grip. Without taking his eyes off the frightened kid Snape, feeling the kid was on the verge of crying, delved into his pockets and withdrew a green silk handkerchief; the embroidered snakes winking at the girl. 'Blow'.

Severus had found that the silly handkerchiefs were effective when dealing with panicked children, he'd even used them in the Slytherin Tower, though none of its inhabitants would ever admit to it.

He also picked up her toy dragon and returned it to the girl. She was just putting her little hands on the stuffed reptile and beginning to smile through her tears

'What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?' he carried on, their previous subject to distract the girl.

Nose blown and eyes dried Mariel looked again at Snape.

'Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant,' she announced proudly straightening up.

'Told you Mione thought me' He shook his head. 'What, you don't think Mione taught me these things. She knows all this and much more. I bet she knows more about potions than you do.' She told him vexed by his attitude.

'Good afternoon. ...Professor Snape?' Hermione was surprised that the irritable Head of Slytherin would take the time to deal with the girl.

Snape's head snapped up and he glanced around desperately to see who might have come as his saviour. His expression darkened rapidly as he saw looks of amusement, amazement and pure horror chase each other on Hermione's mobile face.

'Hi, Mione.'

'Mariel,' she said at length, 'come here. You are bothering professor Snape: he wishes to read.' She walked across the room and seizing the girl she relieved Snape of the troublesome toddler, she was uneasy at the child's position.

'What were you talking about.?' She asked curiously.

'Potions, and how much better you are at brewing potions than he is.' Mel answered innocently, unaware that it was her that caused Hermione to nearly choke.

'Mariel this is not the way you should talk to professor Snape, especially since he might well be your future professor.' She admonished the little girl.

'Nah, he's too old for that.' Mariel answered with imperturbable gravity.

From then Hermione kept herself at a sensible distance from Snape whom through the entire staff meeting kept glaring at her. And the fact that she had to pay Snape a visit later that day didn't make her feel any better.

Late in the afternoon as the teachers began to leave, Hermione headed for the door and signalled Harry to follow her.

'A pity there are no more students from our time.' Harry told Hermione as he rose from his chair.

''it's not like they don't know of you and your little adventures.'

'and how were your classes Harry.' Remus asked.

'They were ordinary.' He answered sheepishly.

'I heard otherwise.' hermione said rising her eyebrow challengingly. 'You seem to have made quite a hit on the student body, or at least on the female side. I heard something about a dark rugged looking youthful professor with sharp green eyes and a wit to match.'

This made Harry quite uncomfortable but he didn't give up this easily. 'Well you know how easily little girls start fantasizing over some new teacher.' Harry said, clearly referring to her crush on Lockhart from her second year.

'And a damn good impersonation of Lockhart you did Potter…demonstrating your extraordinary abilities.' Draco Malfoy smirked. He was seated quietly at the table. The fact that potter was here bothered him a great deal.

Harry groaned. 'Well I don't know. One moment I was stressing the importance of never sticking your fingers into an electric plug and the next I was reciting Shakespeare in parselmouth.' Harry shrugged, feigning disinterest.

'Seriously, and don't tell me you were demonstrating how a light bulb works by conjuring a Patronus.' Draco offered sarcastically.

In that moment, Hermione found herself wanting to curse Draco for everything that wasn't going right.

From here on there was no other option for Hermione then to drag Harry out of the room before he and Malfoy ended up at each others throats.

'You look beat.' Harry said as they settled in opposite chairs in Harry's assigned office.

'I've been better.' Hermione sighed.

Hermione looked as bad as Harry had ever seen her. Her long hair was dishevelled, and she looked like she hadn't had a good sleep in a while.

'Tough weekend?' he inquired.

Hermione shrugged. 'Well out of the ordinary.'

Harry sat a moment. Absently . After a long silence, he caught Hermione's gaze and held it. 'What exactly did Dumbledore tell you about what happened on Halloween?'

The question caught her entirely off guard. Hermione couldn't imagine what Harry was getting at. 'Well Dumbledore told me Friday night that Azkaban was attacked and that Ron was found dead.'

Harry arched his eyebrows. 'Found dead? He told you that?'

Hermione frowned, mildly baffled.

'Hermione, the official version differs a lot from this. He is mentioned on the list of fugitives. They are keeping this list a secret as they have no proof of any of this. But it is true his body was never found. Like there were chances of finding even a wisp of Harry potter's best friend, once the death eaters were through with him.'

'It's impossible.' She declared. 'There's got to be some explanation.'

Harry nodded. 'There is. You're not going to like it.'

Hermione was flabbergasted.

'Hermione,' Harry said quietly. 'This is going to be hard to accept at first, but just listen to me a minute.' He chewed his lip. 'This investigation that Ron was working on until – it ' Harry paused as if the words were hard for him to say. 'They think he helped plan the breakout. They claim the dementors did nothing to stop the prisoners.'

Hermione stared at him and almost laughed. "He planed the breakout? What is THAT supposed to mean?" there was no limit to how low the ministry could go in denying their own faults and finding a scapegoat. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Ron is blamed for it. They won't even let him rest now that his gone.' He repeated flatly.

'Blamed for it?' she said uneasy. 'What about the death eaters in residence.'

Now Hermione was even more doubtful. To dementors all prisoners looked identical, regardless of their crimes.

'I don't understand.' She argued. 'We're not talking about plans of world wide domination, shrewd schemes that involve an alliance with the dementors; we're talking about brute force.'

Harry's replay had the controlled patience of a good friend. 'Yes, Hermione, dementors will always guard Azkaban even if it is under attack.' he paused a long moment. 'Unless…'

Hermione wanted to speak, but it was clear Harry was about to drop the bomb. "Unless what?"

'Unless there was indeed an alliance of such sort.'

Hermione almost fell of her chair. 'What?'

'Unless it is true what they claim.' Harry looked bleak. 'I have heard the death eaters found a way to bring back Voldemort. And dementors will want that.'

Hermione gaped.

'Where did you hear this thing.' She demanded.

Harry's response was slow. 'I can feel it, and I talked with Dumbledore.'

'How?' Hermione collapsed back in her chair. 'We all saw you defeat Voldemort. How could he return?'

'Defeated, yes, but not vanquished.'

Hermione was silent a long moment. 'But … that means …'

Harry looked her dead in the eye 'Yes, there are ways for him to return.'

Hermione felt like in a bad horror movie were the bad guy just kept coming back for another slash at you.

'What else did Dumbledore tell you?' Hermione eyed him askance.

'He also told me you might need some help in dealing with your memories.'

'What is that supposed to mean?' she snapped sarcastically.

'He suggested the use of a Pensieve. He also hopes to find more clues as to Ron's investigation among your random memories. He insisted I guided you into using one.'

'If I agree?' she whispered. 'Do you think it will help?'

Harry nodded. 'You'd be surprised how many things you can find out from a memory Hermione.' He told her. 'I brought my Pensieve for you to use. You know the basics, don't you.'

'Yes'. Hermione looked up. 'Then let's do it. Now.'

Harry showed her how to take one of her memories and place it into the Pensieve. Hermione stared at the stirring silver memories, mystified.

'I can be with you if you like. That is if you don't think me as prying. If the memories are truly unpleasant some support from a friend might do you good.'

Hermione looked surprised, but very grateful for his offer. Hermione hesitated 'ah… yes.' She shot an uneasy glance at the swirling mist and the both her and Harry went into the memory.

The memory was so powerful that for a moment she was completely drawn into her other self. It was one that still disturbed her deeply.

It was so cold her fingers had gone blue. The feeling of dread was overpowering, all her will to live had been drained from her in just hours. All happiness had gone from her world and it wasn't only the dementors effect. Her mind wasn't clear anymore. She had never been strong enough to stand a handful of them but now it was unbearable. Everywhere she looked it was full of them. And what was worse, you could hear the crying the screams the hysteric laughter of the other prisoners and there was no way to escape or to lock your mind against it. Their powers to devastate were greater then any futile try to shield yourself. It was worse than hell.

Her mind wasn't working well anymore. She couldn't remember even the day. It was in vain to try and think of any thing else than what you most feared. And what she most feared was about to happen. The sound of the cell door opening was the most unnerving sound she had ever heard. Two or three dementors, she wasn't even able to look at them, their presence was too overwhelming, glided in the room. It felt that there was no more air as they sucked it; the rotting smell of them was enough to knock her out. Two putrefying hands grabbed her by the arms and got her on her two feet, although staying like that was impossible.

She had been brought before a large door that opened to reveal the courtroom. The large dungeon was the place Harry had told her about. All the benches, in front of here or on either side were full of people that stopped talking once she entered the room.

She was led to the chair in the centre of the room. When she sat on the edge of the chair the chains clicked threateningly and sprang to life binding her.

She was beginning to feel violently ill. Once she was chained the dementors retreated and her feeling of dread was rapidly fading into just, just fear. She looked up at the people. She could recognize many; they had been her colleges at the ministry for a couple of years now. As far as she could see everybody was against here, all staring down their nose at her.

In the middle of the front row sat Dumbledore. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic was seated just beside him. She could recognize Amelia Bones and Minerva McGonagall, which had taken the post of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister shortly after the beginning of the summer break leaving a vacant teaching post at Hogwarts. She had a stern look on her face but as their eyes met she could see a faint smile as only she would receive during her years at Hogwarts. There was Percy as well but he didn't give her any sign of recognition, just as expected. She couldn't really see the people on the side benches as the chains were so tight that just trying to move was hurting her. And even the front benches were becoming blurry from the tears that had not been shed yet. She was trying hard to keep them from falling but she had never been good at it.

'You've brought her.' Dumbledore himself was very pale.

'Very well' he added, 'the accused being here, let us begin.' He declared.