Thank you to all my lovely reviewers shdwcat27, duj (thanks again for the dialogue help!), Power Punk (thanks for both reviews and for reading my stuff since the beginning. How could I not love you?), gal-from-the-'hood, Just Jeanette, CareBearErin, and toostupidforyou. I write for you!

Thanks to Bene Gesserit Witch for the correction in this chappie! Thanks to duj for helping me see reason in relating the horrors of Harry's childhood despite all the Dickens I've been reading! Thank you also to Emmie for the spelling help!

This chapter is for all of you.

Discovering the Hidden Heart

Part Five

Days of Futures Past

The next morning, after breakfast Hermione went to McGonagall's office to ask permission to take a lesson with Snape. Hermione tried to ignore the fact that Minerva had changed her hair color to radiation leak yellow. At least she was back to her dignified tartan robes for the time being.

"Good morning, dear! Will you have tea and a short-bread with me?"

"No thank you, Headmistress. I'm still stuffed from breakfast."

"You're old enough to call me Minerva, Hermione. Even if you weren't you've earned that right. Here now, just what pressing matters bring you to my office bright and early on a Sunday morning?

"Just academic enthusiasm- I have become interested in Occlumency and Legilimency. I've read all the books on those subjects in the library. I'd love the chance to explore the disciplines further before I leave Hogwarts. I'd like permission to request a practical lesson from Professor Snape."

"Oh dear. Do you think that would be terribly wise, Hermione?"

"Why yes, which is why I'm asking, Minerva."

"Wise or otherwise, I certainly wouldn't want that man poking around in my head," Minerva mumbled half to herself, shuffling papers around on the desk.

"I'm not ashamed of anything I have in my head," the second Hermione said it she realized what a jolly old fat lie she had just told. It put Father Christmas to shame. Strangely enough, she'd much prefer if Snape watched all of it than to let Minerva McGonagall take the briefest peek.

"No of course you're not, dear. I understand your curiosity given that Mr. Potter had to take those lessons. Do not forget that he never enjoyed them. Unlike Harry Potter there is no reason for you to have to learn those skills. I really think it better if you don't."

McGonagall always did have to play devil's advocate. A good thing too considering how many little devils got sorted into Gryffindor each year. Well two can play at that game.

"Perhaps you are right, Minerva. Are you saying that I shouldn't -trust- Professor Snape to give me a lesson?"

"Oh stars no! Professor Snape is a good man. No, that's not what I'm saying at all. The lessons themselves cause the worry not the teacher, dear."

"But you said that you wouldn't want him in your head. What's to stop him really? He is a Legilimens. Are you sure that Professor Snape is trustworthy, Minerva? Before switching sides he was in league with Death Eaters."

"Miss Granger! I am most disappointed in you. You well know that Professor Snape sacrificed much for the Light. What ever you think you know about what he did during those years you don't know the half of it. I will not have you thinking badly of one of Hogwarts finest teachers. I trust him. Albus Dumbledore trusted him. He has proved himself worthy of all our trust time and time again. I believe that you -will- have that lesson providing Professor Snape has the time to instruct you."

"But-"

"No buts! I will speak to Professor Snape and see when he can work you into his schedule. That is my final word on this subject. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Headmistress."

Now, do you have other topics you'd like to discuss?"

"No, Headmistress."

"Then you are dismissed, Miss Granger."

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus cleared his throat and said,

"You handled that well."

He chuckled when both Minerva and Hermione thanked him.

Hermione hurried down to the dungeons. She found Snape in the middle of a circle of seven large cauldrons of different potions in various stages of completion. Snape was stirring one by hand and four others by wandless magic. For the life of her she could not imagine the wreck she or the potions would be should she attempt more than two such complicated potions at once. Snape seemed deep in concentration. In fact he looked oddly calm as if in a trance state. One of the potions, a Blood-Replenishing Potion, had received its last stir widdershins. She handed him the pre-measured jasper powder before he could ask for it.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. I have these in hand. I require a large cauldron of Pepperup Potion. Begin."

Hermione retrieved the necessary tools and supplies, prepared her work area and her ingredients, brought her cauldron the the correct temperature, added her base ingredients, and then lowered the temperature to simmer. Occasionally as she worked she glanced over to watch Snape's progress. Now he was stirring all seven and summoning ingredients with wandless magic while adding ingredients with both hands. By the time she was done decanting, sealing, and labeling the Pepperup Potion, Snape had started two more cauldrons.

"Finished, sir."

"Excellent. In a moment you may bottle and stopper the Everlasting Elixir and Blood-Replenishing Potion."

"Professor, how could Madame Pomfrey have run out of Everlasting Elixir?"

"She does so at an alarming rate everytime a student knocks the open bottle to the floor. I have emplored her to keep the bottle stoppered to no avail. This time I have spelled all the bottles unbreakable and self-stoppering after use."

As he promised Snape kept her busy. By two in the afternoon they had finished preparing potions. Hermione wanted to sit down in the worst way but realized they still needed to clean up. Well, at least she had to clean up. She wasn't entirely sure whether Snape intended to help or not. She grabbed the nearest cauldron and took it to the cleaning station.

"Miss Granger, this is not a detention."

"What do you mean sir?"

"Use magic."

"Oh!" Snape demanded the scrubbing of cauldrons by hand whether for class or in detention. The sheer length of time and effort had made this experience seem a lot more like detention. Why had she wanted to do to this? Just as a favor to Snape she decided. She realized she was starting to think of him as her friend. She wondered if he possibly could think of her as one of his, even though she was his student and quite possibly insane. It didn't help that she could hear Ron in here head saying, 'Course you're a blinking nutter, Hermione! You want to be friends with Snape! Blimey, somebody floo call St. Mungo's before it's catching.'

"We missed lunch, Miss Granger. I shall summon food to my office. What that is not red would you care to eat to keep you until dinner?"

"Anything you're having and some tea, please sir."

"If you finish here I will deliver these to the infirmary and meet you in my office. I set the wards to accept you."

With crates of potions levitating in his wake Snape left. Using magic there was little effort involved in putting the lab back to its pristine state. Hermione noticed that Snape hadn't locked the supply cabinet. She warded it setting her ward to accept Snape and then warded the door the same way on her way out. When she arrived at Snape's office she was able to enter. She plopped down gratefully into what she had come to think of as 'her' chair. The table she had transfigured still stood between the chairs which were angled to face half way between each other and the fire.

She eyed the fireplace. She would have liked a fire but couldn't imagine Snape would want one after standing in the middle of a circle of boiling cauldrons while wearing wool. Then again, he did that on a regular basis and had a fire every time she had been here. Perhaps he knew the same cold that had settled inside of her. She flicked her wand. The fire flared.

Snape entered not long after.

"I hope you don't mind a fire, sir."

"Not at all. I prefer one."

"I warded the supply cabinet and the door before I left and set the wards to accept you, sir."

"I saw. I appreciate your thoroughness. Assorted sandwiches with your tea?"

"Sounds brilliant, Professor."

Snape summoned a House Elf. The one who had apparently drawn the short straw looked in danger of passing out but managed to stay on her feet while Snape gave his orders. Though the House Elf never returned the tea and sandwiches materialized on the table between them. Cheese, cucumber, cress, and curried cashew chicken were the sandwiches of the day.

"I spoke to McGonagall. I got her to agree to the lesson."

"I heard."

"How?"

"Phineas Nigellus told me. I have a portrait of his guarding a private supply room. He also informs me that Minerva's new hair color is hideous."

"Oh."

"He told me how you accomplished the feat. Your tactics were worthy of a Slytherin."

"I'm sorry, sir!"

"Miss Granger, coming from me that is a compliment. Even Phineas was favorably impressed."

"I regret what I said about you. I don't feel badly about manipulating Minerva, though."

"Why is that?"

"I'm an adult. If I want to take an Occlumency lesson she has no business stopping me."

"I agree. I meant why should you regret mentioning that I was a Death Eater?"

"It wasn't just that. I implied that you couldn't be trusted just to get what I wanted. It was most disloyal. You should be angry with me."

"You owe me no loyalty, Miss Granger."

"Of course I do! Forget how much you've taught me. Forget your war effort and the fact you save my life just over a fortnight ago. You stood between me and a werewolf that already tried to kill you once. You saved my best friend's life when Quirrell shared his skull with Voldemort. You rushed to our aid when you thought we were all being murdered by an escaped killer. Professor, without you half the seventh years myself included would have died a hundred times over in poor Neville's potions disasters.

"Because of me Ronald Weasley is dead."

"You didn't push him in front of that Avada Kedavra. Don't you dare belittle his sacrifice by taking credit for it."

Snape looked utterly defeated then. It was frightening. So much so she rose and walked over to him. She rested her hand gently on his shoulder. She thought at first that he would slap it away. He simply covered her hand with his.

"You can't save everyone all the time, Professor."

"I would have died in his place."

"I know. Me too."

Snape removed his hand then. Hermione did the same, and picked up another cucumber sandwich that she really didn't want to take back to her chair.

"You are a most loyal person, Miss Granger. I think your friends would agree with me. Do not think that I do not know how staunchly you have defended me to your class-mates over the years."

"Do you know why so many students dislike you, sir?"

"Yes. I have heard their colorful complaints."

"I doubt you've ever heard the whole truth. No one else makes them think a tenth as hard as you do. Thinking hurts when you are not used to it. You've seen the absolute trash parchments they hand in to you. The sad part is that students put more time, effort and quality into your essays than those for any other class. You should see the drivel that gets top marks in Charms or Herbology. Every other professor will give a passing grade if a student manages to hand in something on time with a name on it."

"That is most unfair to you."

"It isn't fair to you! It isn't fair to those professors who have to read that codswallop or to those students who don't learn anything by writing it. I wonder why they bother to come here at all. There are some really nice Wizarding Resorts that cost less per year than books, tuition, and supplies for this school. Why don't they go there if all they want to do is socialize and laze about all day?"

"I doubt most of them could convince their parents to pay for a resort. Perhaps a few Slytherins could. By the first week of first year, I know which student in the class will be you. I know which will be as well meaning and hopeless as Longbottom. I know which will be Crabbe, which will be Brown, which will be Harry Potter."

"What does that mean?"

"Which name has you confused?"

"Harry."

"One who is bright and talented enough but lacks the focus. I do not believe I have ever encountered a less organized, less disciplined mind."

"I think it was because no one taught him anything when he was little. They locked him up like an animal. They didn't touch him or talk to him. He was in the dark a lot of the time with no stimulation of any sort, no patterning. When Harry started Muggle school he didn't know his colors, numbers or alphabet. He could barely speak! His cousin was in the same year and told everyone Harry was a retarded freak. He was one by that time. That's what his Aunt and Uncle made him. His cousin would beat the other children if they so much as said hello to Harry. He never had friends. No one ever treated Harry like he was normal. No one told him the truth about his parents either. He went from thinking he was mentally handicapped and a Muggle to being the Boy-Who-Lived over night. I think he adjusted pretty well considering."

"What do you mean by locked up like an animal?"

"He lived in a closet."

"I saw that closet during his Occlumency lessons. I assumed they locked him there for punishment."

"They did. They punished him there non-stop for eleven years, Professor. Harry didn't get proper meals. He got table scraps, bones to suck, plates to lick, bits of gristle his cousin had chewed, and food that was mouldy or had gone past date. Most Muggles look after dogs better than his family looked after Harry. When he was really lucky he got leftovers they didn't have room to keep. Sometimes they punished him by starving him. Sometimes they just couldn't be bothered to feed him. He was always passing out because they worked him so hard on so little food. They stunted his growth physically, mentally and emotionally. I think there were other things, abuse Harry wouldn't talk about, things he was ashamed of letting happen to him."

"I am grateful that no one informed me of this until now."

"Because you would have had to treat him just the same anyway."

"Yes."

"Harry understood that in the end after you returned with Dumbledore. He was a very forgiving person. I think he had been looking for some excuse to forgive you anyway, especially since he couldn't find you to kill you. He didn't hate the Muggles. Well, he hated living with them but never wanted them harmed. He thought he hated Sirius for betraying his parents. He still listened to him at the Shrieking Shack. I do think he hated Voldemort even though in some ways he pitied him. What were Harry's parents like?"

"His father was a handsome ape. His mother was in every way extraordinary. She was much like you, Miss Granger."

"You really disliked the Marauders didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Don't you think you are being a little hard calling him a handsome ape?"

"Perhaps that comparison is unfair to apes. Allow me to rephrase. He was a less scholarly, more athletic, more courageous version of Draco Malfoy. Like Draco, he was cruel, spoiled, arrogant, thoughtless, and selfish. Unlike Black, James Potter would never have killed simply because he disliked someone, well, not on purpose."

"What did Lily ever see in him?"

"He loved her and worshipped her. He wanted to become a better person because of her."

"Which of the Marauders did you like the best?"

"Black."

"You're joking!"

"No."

"Why?"

"He was the only one I respected. He was intelligent, eloquent, quick-witted, well read, self-determined, courageous, under-handed, and a dirty fighter. He had a peculiar sense of honor that had nothing to do with the law, his own personal code if you will. That was unbending for him. He never quit. He was a formidable adversary. He was also, petty, arrogant, endlessly baiting, rude, childish, and tried to murder me with a werewolf."

"You could be describing yourself, Professor, except for the 'tried to murder you' part."

"Is that how you see me?"

"No, but most of it fits with your reputation. Some of it like the self-determined part I agree with because I know you better than I did."

"I will admit that we were alike in some ways. Though life, warfare, money, education, society, women- everything was a game to Black. I was far more serious by nature and necessity."

"More Sirius than Sirius?"

"More Black too."

"Tell me about Remus."

"He was studious, quiet, meek, gullible, unreliable, self-pitying, indecisive, and harmless when not a werewolf. His loyalty toward Black and Potter was canine. He was desperate for their attention, too eager to please, too passive, and too forgiving.

"Can anyone be too forgiving?"

"When forgiveness endangers one's own life or the lives of others it is no longer a virtue."

"Peter Pettigrew?"

"You did meet him."

"Yes, but what was he like when he was young?"

"That was my point. He was exactly the same though not quite as scabby."

"Why would the other three put up with him?"

"I always assumed that he made them feel superior. Black needed a flunky. Potter needed a fan club. Lupin needed to feel sorry for someone other than himself."

"Do you feel that any of them got better with age?"

"I think Potter would have had he lived. Lily had a profound influence on him. To impress Lily he discovered that he had a brain under all that muscle. He used it to realize that he had to work hard at things other than Quidditch if he hoped to be worthy of her."

"One might think that you and Lily could have gotten along."

"We did. She was my best friend."

"Harry said you called her a mudblood!"

"I did many times. She called me worse. We could not allow our friendship to be public knowledge. Neither of our Houses would have accepted it. She was a threat to my spying. I would have made her a target. In the end I did."

"Not on purpose."

"The result was the same."

"How in the world did you become friends?"

"We recognized each other early on as the best conversation to be had amongst our peers. We helped each other. She was a marvel at Charms, Transfiguration, and Muggle Studies of course. I excelled in Defense, Potions, and History of Magic."

"Slughorn said Lily was brilliant at Potions. That was you wasn't it?"

"Apart from helping each other outside of class, we traded Potions books. Mine was full of useful notes that I did not need. Hers was cover to cover with amusing doodles and Slughorn cartoons which helped to keep me from going mad with boredom learning day after day potions that I could have brewed in my sleep."

"What did Half-Blood Prince mean to you?"

"It was a stupid joke that Lily found endlessly hilarious. I told her she might get a date if she weren't so Muggle-brained. She said, 'Oh and you're a complete Prince, I suppose?' I told her I would be if I were more inbred. Thereafter Lily took to calling me by that hideous moniker. She was very easily amused. That or she just laughed at all my jokes to be kind. At any rate she wrote, 'This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince' before she gave it back to me."

"Did you love her?"

"With Lily there were borders that I would not cross. It was difficult and dangerous just being friends."

"Did she know about your spying?"

"Perhaps she suspected. She knew me well. She was very bright, intuitive, and a keen observer. She said things occasionally in her teasing way that gave me cause to wonder."

"Like what?"

"Sometimes she would whisper things like 'Good luck, Double-O-Seven.' Of course it required a covert operation just for us to study together. Her conversation was full of such references to Muggle culture. Just as often she'd whisper Muggle nonsense like 'Later, Alligator,' or 'Take your protein pills and put your helmet on.' It did not worry me. I trusted her enough to tell her. I never did fearing her life would be endangered by the knowledge."

"I wish you could have told Harry about her."

"He was to receive a letter upon my death."

"You never expected to survive the war did you?"

"In the beginning I did. I was not suicidal. Had I truly believed spying would kill me, I never would have attempted it. After Voldemort's return surviving him seemed- improbable."

"I wasn't sure I had survived the battle."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought I might be a ghost. I didn't feel like me anymore. Did I kill Lucius Malfoy or just cave his skull in after he was dead?"

"Do you not remember?"

"I remember him casting an Avada Kedavra on Harry while his back was turned. The next thing I remember was you taking my rock away."

"You have read about the Norse berserkers?"

"Yes."

"Watching you reminded me of what I had read of them. You reacted instantaneously. I barely had time to raise my wand before you knocked Malfoy to the ground backward over the corpse of Peter Pettigrew proving once and for all that he was good for something. I am not sure when you picked up the rock. I do know that you managed to crack his scull with your first blow. I heard it shatter. You had delivered twenty blows or more by the time I managed to take that rock. I did not deprive you of it to upset you. However, had you used it fifty more times Malfoy still would be merely dead while you may have chipped a fingernail. My concern was for you."

"It doesn't bother me that I killed him."

"Nor should it. He would have tried to kill us both and Miss Lovegood too had he had the time. Are you still suffering joint pain?"

"Just a bit of stiffness."

"Do you require a potion?"

"No thank you, sir. What I really need is a hot bath."

"Miss Granger, you will inform me should this stiffness persist."

"Yes sir, I will."

"Do you exhibit any other symptoms of injury?"

"Nothing that's physical, Professor."

"You are certain?"

"Yes sir. Thank you for your concern and for letting me help today."

"I am grateful for your assistance. Would you care to take your lesson tommorrow or do you desire more time to prepare?"

"No sir. I'll be ready. May I come early?"

"I will see you after dinner."

"I look forward to it. Have a good evening, Professor."