HEY!
I just wanted to say, thank you for the reviews! Really, they're all amazing.
Read and enjoy!
Severus sat in his office afterward replaying her memories. Certainly they were private, but nothing was private when someone was raiding your memories. He hated himself because he actually felt…sorry? Yes, he supposed with a scowl, he felt sorry for her. Granger's childhood was too much like his own and he understood the feeling. Those few memories explained why Granger was the way that she was. There was a constant need to prove herself, the need to show others that she was capable of doing anything. Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, Severus thought of her parent's reaction to her magic. They acted as if she had just thrown up on the floor at their feet. Being magical was nothing to be ashamed of just because one's parents had a difficult time accepting it. His mind briefly flashed to his father and the hatred the man had of the gift Severus shared with his mother.
Forcing his thoughts away from his own tumultuous childhood, Severus thought of her request: Whatever happens during these lessons, can it stay between the two of us?
Severus wasn't sure what bothered him more: her barely-there-control or the slight current of desperation that was laced with her voice. Being a witch was not something Granger should feel guilty over.
Suddenly, the flames burst in the fireplace, revealing Professor Dumbledore.
"Good evening, Severus." Dumbledore smiled while cleansing himself of soot and debris.
"Good evening, Headmaster." Severus answered automatically.
Dumbledore studied him for a moment over his half-moon glasses. The twinkling blue eyes pierced him so much so he turned away, pretending to search his desk for something.
"Is something bothering you, Severus?" Dumbledore asked in a voice that made Severus feel as if the old man knew exactly what was bothering him.
"No, Headmaster, everything is fine." Severus replied neutrally.
"How did the Occlumency lessons go today?" he inquired.
"Weasley was horrendous, but that was to be expected. Miss Granger-" Severus cut himself off, suddenly hesitant.
"Yes?"
"She proved to be adequate." he settled with a cold drawl.
"I knew she would be. Miss Granger has a knack for picking things up quickly." Dumbledore responded, taking a seat across from Severus.
"Yes." Severus agreed flippantly, hoping that the line of questioning was over.
"I've come to ask you-"
"About my recent meeting with the Dark Lord?" Severus anticipated.
"Yes." Dumbledore said with a slight smile that was more amused than apologetic.
"He admits he's been using the two to get to Potter. I've a feeling that he's focusing more on Miss Granger than Weasley due to the fact that she's more-"
More what? Intelligent? Driven? Mature?
"Observational." Severus concluded.
"Yes, yes, well that was to be expected." Dumbledore answered with a nod, though his eyes were far away, he thoughts clearly ten steps ahead.
"None of this was expected." Severus snapped, drawing Dumbledore's keen gaze.
"It was only a matter of time until Voldemort stopped trying to attack Harry and instead attacked the things that mean the most to him." Dumbledore stated as if Severus should have anticipated the Dark Lord's actions.
Severus winced when Dumbledore said his name. He was tired of having these conversations, the constant rehashing of events that Severus thought better forgotten. Being a double spy was doing nothing but slowly and painfully killing him. The paranoia that tainted every aspect of his life had reached a crescendo. Severus couldn't look a single person in the face without questioning their motives. This paranoia was the reason he was alone. Severus didn't communicate with his colleagues outside of what was completely necessary. He spent holidays alone in his chambers, listening to the heavy click of the clock above the mantle counting down the seconds until the Dark Lord would summon him for festivities.
When he had agreed to aid Dumbledore all those years ago, he had no idea that exhaustion would play such a large role in his life. Exaution was half the battle. Exhaustion dulled the senses, hindered reflexes, ate away at you from the inside until there was barely anything left. The Dark Lord would keep Severus late into the night, sometimes until the first rays of dawn were creeping up over the trees. He'd stumble back to Hogwarts, barely conscious and too afraid to rest.
"I won't keep you any longer, my dear boy," Dumbledore's voice cut into his thoughts. "I interrupted a serious thought upon my arrival." Dumbledore bid him goodnight before vanishing in a gust of flames.
Severus immediately left the room, storming towards his lab. The only thing that seemed to calm him nowadays was brewing difficult potions. He checked his time piece. Three hours before he would have to begin patrolling the grounds. This was more than enough time. When he entered the small room, he lit one torch and pulled off his robes, tossing them on a broken chair, ignoring the perpetual chill. Lighting a fire under one of the cauldrons, Severus began yanking materials off of the shelves and tossing them haphazardly on the table he used for his preparations. Letting his mind finally shut down, Severus began his work.
Three hours later, and with a wave of his wand, he cleared the room and pulled back on his robes. Now he'd have to walk the corridors for another three hours stuck alone and with his own thoughts. Severus would never admit to another soul, but rarely did he patrol the corridors like he was supposed to. When he was assigned the latest shift, Severus stole away to the Astronomy Tower to study the moonlight drenched grounds, yearning for his freedom. One these nights he'd quickly walk the halls before slipping away. Tonight, Severus headed directly for the tower.
As soon as he reached the landing, Severus silently darted toward the railing and breathed in the cool night air, keeping his eyes closed. He felt like he would soon buckle under the intense pressure that was being put on him. Too many people expected too much from him. The Dark Lord. Dumbledore. Granger. Without thinking, Severus brushed his fingers along the inside of his arm. The Dark Mark was hidden beneath the dark material, crouched and ready for an attack that Severus dreaded with each deep breath of the chilly air he took. Soon, he would be summoned. No matter how many times he begged for the Mark to remain cool and unobtrusive, it never did.
A sudden sniffle caught his attention. Snapping his head to his right, Severus saw a figure leaning against the one of the pillars in the Tower. He opened his mouth to yell, but paused when he spotted unmistakable bushy hair. Sighing, Severus walked over quietly.
"Miss Granger." he drawled.
The girl squeaked and spun around before quickly hiding her face. He saw the glimmer of wetness in the small amount of light that the sky was still giving off.
"Professor, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here, I know its past curfew, you can give me a detention, I won't complain. I shouldn't be out-"
"Granger!" he snapped quickly stopping the girl from rambling. "I am well aware that it is past curfew, and I'm beginning to think that your behavior is a repercussion of spending too much time with Potter."
Severus chose to ignore the fact that she sounded as if she had a cold. Hearing her give off a pitiful laugh, he stepped to the railing and began surveying the land with his hands folded behind his back, giving her a chance to gather herself. Severus didn't allow her a moment out of sympathy, but rather he didn't know what to do with a crying girl.
"Should I bother asking why you are up here?" he asked without looking at her.
"I just needed to be alone," she mumbled before turning and moving to stand beside him. "I know what you must be thinking, Professor."
"I highly doubt that, Miss Granger," he responded with a smirk in his voice. "But, by all means, try and guess." He challenged, peering at her from the corner of his eye.
He saw her lip turn up slightly, which looked like a pitiful attempt to smile.
"About the memories you saw," she began.
Oh great. He didn't want to talk about her feelings. It was bad enough that she was already crying.
"My parents are good people." she explained.
"I'm sure they are." he replied with a tone that was more than a little sarcastic, which Granger picked up on instantly.
"They are, they just don't…understand this world."
"That's understandable."
She sighed frustrated, at him or with herself, he didn't know, and he didn't care he reminded himself.
"I-I try to explain things to them, try to get them to – I don't know – connect with me. We have nothing in common. They talk about teeth; I talk about turning a bird into a goblet. They talk about politics; I talk about Vol-, sorry, You-Know-Who. I've…I've tried to explain to them what's going on in our world, but they don't seem to grasp what I say half the time. I think they pretend they do to make me happy."
"And the memories of you doing magic?" he prompted, but instantly wanted to hit himself for doing so.
"That," she muttered sounding as if she were rolling her eyes. "It's bad enough trying talk to them about it. But when they actually see it…" she trailed off and he had the strongest feeling that she was fighting back tears. "They look at me like I'm a freak. When I was small, and I was angry or upset, things would happen. They thought there was something wrong with me, wrong with my brain and the way it had developed. I was put through psychological tests, you know, the tests where they-"
"I'm well aware of what a psychological test is, Miss Granger." he answered with a snarl.
"Er – right – well I went to see five different doctors. All the results were the same. They – my parents – regarded me as a ticking time bomb or something. I could tell whenever I walked into a room; they would suddenly go silent, tense up as if I was going to attack them." Granger finished, wrapping her arms around herself.
The silence hung in the air. He couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for her. At least Severus always had his mother to turn to when his father was angry. He could sit for hours watching his mother perform magic when his father was out of the house. Severus could still see her long black hair carelessly tossed over her shoulder as she made his toys dance through the air. Her eye were striking, nearly glowing he used to think. Those moments were the only ones where he saw who she truly was and it was those moments he remembered when he didn't think he could drag himself through another day.
"I'm not saying that I don't love them or anything, I do, but still…I wish they could just…"
"Accept you." Severus finished for her.
Granger turned her head towards him, and in the corner of his eye he could see her smile at him. Severus awkwardly shifted his weight while intently staring at the tree line.
"Yes," she whispered. "Even for a moment, if they one hundred percent accepted me for a moment, I would be happy."
"Magic is something most Muggles never understand." Severus offered uneasily.
"I know, I just-I wish that they could."
Silence filled the space between them, but Severus wasn't uncomfortable, much to his surprise. They were two people, too absorbed in their own thoughts to be bothered with one another. Something suddenly occurred to him.
"Mr. Weasley didn't take well to the lesson, I presume?"
Granger gave a small laugh, relaxing now that they were discussing familiar topics.
"No, he was scared of you to be honest, sir. He kept saying that it wasn't his fault, but rather-" She cut herself off quickly and Severus could nearly feel the embarrassment pouring off of her.
"He believed it was my teaching ability." Severus stated with barely suppressed amusement.
"Harry seems to think the same way. With a little practice, I think they can get it." Granger added confidently.
"Some people were never meant to master Occlumency, Miss Granger." Severus insisted.
"They have to learn. They're jeopardizing their lives if they don't." Severus could hear the panic bubbling in her voice.
"It is their choice whether or not they learn." The finality of his voice was meant as a dismissal, and Granger understood his wordless request.
"I know," she sighed. "Well, good night, Professor."
"Miss Granger." he replied with a slight nod.
She began walking away, and he was about to sigh deeply, glad to be alone once again, when her voice suddenly cut through the dark.
"Professor?"
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"I just wanted to say that I don't think that you're a bad teacher, or that you don't have the ability to teach."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it." he said sarcastically.
"Granted, you can be a bit…harsh at times, but I think you're a great Professor."
Before Severus could respond, the sharp sound of her retreating steps on the metal stairs echoed through the space. There was a sudden flutter in his stomach at her words. He relished the feeling for a moment, but then quickly squashed it. Later that night, as he lay in bed, the words echoed around his skull, seeking to tantalize him until the early hours of the morning.
Hermione showed up to the classroom exactly on time. She felt the heat rush to her face as she thought about the night before. She had poured out her deepest thoughts because their lesson had left her feeling vulnerable and she'd acted like a fool. Yet what surprised her even more than her runaway mouth was that not once did Professor Snape tell her to leave or shut her mouth. Anxiously, with her stomach in knots, she closed the door behind her as her embarrassment rose to nearly unbearable levels. Hermione had spent the night thinking of the various ways he'd torment her with the memories he'd seen.
"Miss Granger." Snape drawled, seated at his desk and scribbling over what she presumed was a student's essay.
"Good evening, Professor." she returned, coming to a stop in front of his desk.
Knowing she wouldn't be able to stop him if he delved into her mind again, Hermione kept her eyes carefully turned away. When he didn't stand to begin practice, she risked a glance at his face. He was staring at her, evidently waiting for her to look up.
"Sir?" Hermione prompted.
"Today, Miss Granger, we will be doing very little practice. A thought occurred to me last night. You never seem to be without a book – granted if you couldn't have a book, I'm sure you'd die –but it occurred to me that, perhaps if you read the theory of Occlumency, you would better understand what needs to be done."
Hermione felt her face flush at the jab, but she was forced to admit to her previous perusal of the library.
"Sir, I've already read up on Occlumency."
"Oh? That's not surprising in the least. Did you learn anything?" Snape questioned, tossing his quill aside.
"I've taken some books out of the library, but they seem so vague that I haven't really been able to get much from them." Hermione answered, remembering her frustration.
"Of course they're vague, do you use your head girl? Do you think something like that would be in the public part of the library?" he snapped.
Hermione didn't dignify him with an response, instead she sighed deeply.
"Clearly you haven't thought of that," he pressed on, opening a drawer. "I've taken the liberty of pulling a book out of the Restricted Section for you, perhaps it can help."
Snape shoved a small fragile looking book towards her. Hermione stepped forward and gently lifted the ratty looking book from the desk. On the cover, in peeling gold letters was a single word: Occlumency. The pages were tattered and aged, but she couldn't help the smile that formed on her face.
"Well, stop standing there grinning like a fool. Sit down and read." he snapped.
Hermione instantly did as she was told. Focusing intently she made her way through the book, most of it nonsense or stuff that Professor Snape already told her. Just as Hermione was ready to tell him the book was repetitive and unhelpful, she came across a rather useful paragraph.
"Once the shield is in place, some try to defend their thoughts by using said shield to attack the intruder. The defender must exercise extreme mental discipline to complete such a task. If the attacker is advanced enough, they could counter the attack, therefore allowing them to access the defenders thoughts."
Hermione raised her eyes and studied Professor Snape. He was viciously scratching across a student's essay, evidently sick of the poor writing he was being forced to read. His face was drawn and pale, but nevertheless, Hermione put her hand in the air. The motion caused him to pause and look up at her.
"For heaven's sake, we're not in class! What do you want?" Snape growled, clearly irritated with the interruption.
Her hand shot down instantly and her cheeks flushed.
"I'd like to practice now."
Snape raised an eyebrow at her and placed his quill down carelessly.
"You've read the book?" he asked eyeing her progress with a skeptical look.
"Oh, no, not yet. But they mention something that I would like to try." she eagerly answered.
"Very well, Granger. Stand up." he sighed.
Hermione stood and began formulating her mental shield again. This time, her defense would have a new twist. Snape shrugged out of his robes and tossed them onto his chair. She watched as he walked around to the front of his desk, shoving his white shirt sleeves up to his elbows. With his wand locked firmly in his grip he turned to look at her. Hermione watched as he glanced at both of her hands. His brow furrowed in confusion.
"Where is your wand, Granger?"
"I'm not using it." Hermione answered evenly.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, as if he was enjoying her sudden confidence. Professor Snape raised his wand, leveling it at her face.
"Three….two…one."
He was there, in her mind. Hermione knew that she had to be on guard, but she found his presence familiar. There was something comforting in knowing that he understood some of her worst memories. Noticing his shocked expression, Hermione quickly shifted her thoughts to her mental shield. Concentrating hard on the ocean and its concrete like surface, she could feel him mustering the energy to attack her. Seconds later, she felt him smash into the surface, causing her to wince slightly.
Her mind immediately flashed to the book. Attack. Attack the attacker. Mustering the image in her mind, she forced her shield to fight back as he was rearing for another attack. She gathered up the remaining portion of her mental energy and formulated a wave, a towering wave that was barreling menacingly toward him. She saw his eyes flash with shock.
Go. Go. Go. Go! She screamed in her head, the wave becoming larger, taller, and more powerful.
She was going to lose it if she didn't hit him soon. In a final burst of energy, she imagined and invisible hand scooping the wave up, and slamming it into Professor Snape.
Instantly, the two collapsed to the floor. Hermione must have briefly lost consciousness because when her eyes flickered open she was hyper aware of the cool stone on her cheek and the sweat cooling on her brow. She was breathing heavily, her body weak with exhaustion. To avoid further embarrassment Hermione pushed herself up to a sitting position and rested her back against a desk. Turning her head, she saw Professor Snape on the ground leaning his back against the front of his desk. He was taking deep even breaths and appeared slightly dazed.
"P-Professor?" she managed to get out.
He held up his hand, not willing to answer at the moment. The two remained for a while longer on the ground, not looking or speaking to one another. Only when Hermione's back begin to ache did she make a move to get up.
"Stay still, Granger." Professor Snape spoke quietly.
She instantly settled herself back on the ground and turned to look at her professor. His face seemed even paler than usual and more drawn. If she were his mother she'd send him straight to bed after a large meal. He needed rest. His knees were bent and his feet were spread apart but planted firmly on the ground and his arms were resting on his knees limply while his wand rest between his feet, forgotten at the moment.
"Sir?" she asked gently.
He didn't respond, keeping his greasy hair in front of his face, but instead reached for his wand. He stretched his legs out in front of him, slowly, as if it hurt him to do so. Flicking his wrist, a bottle and two glasses came from his office door and landed with a loud thump beside him, as if the magic wouldn't hold. He grabbed the bottle, and with a shaking hand, poured a generous amount of liquid into both glasses. With another flick of his wrist, a glass darted to Hermione, hovering in front of her. She instantly took it staring at the amber liquid.
"Drink all of that." Professor Snape said before downing the contents of his drink in two gulps and refilling his glass. "And you are not to tell a soul I gave you anything other than pumpkin juice to drink."
She took a sip, feeling the liquid burning her throat, but she didn't stop. The warmth that spread through her body felt wonderful. Soon her glass was empty, and she turned to see Professor Snape finishing off his second glass. He noticed she had finished and the glass was suddenly snatched out of her hand whizzing across the room into his palm. Snape refilled the cup before waving it back at her. She finished the glass and placed it next to her, hearing Professor Snape finish his third glass. Hermione leaned her head back against the desk feeling drained completely, the alcohol making her even more tired than she already was. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't acknowledge him.
"Granger, what was that?" he finally asked.
She turned her eyes to him, and found him relaxed on the floor with the back of his head resting on the desk.
"I read it in the book, about using your shield to stop the attacker." Hermione nervously explained as she began picking at her nails.
He summoned the book and Hermione watched as it gracefully landed in his lap. His hand reached behind him, on the desk, before pulling back with a pair of spectacles in his hand. Slipping them on, he began reading the passage.
"You wear glasses?" she blurted out suddenly.
He raised his eyes from the book and peered at her over his glasses, flashing her a rare smile.
"Yes, Miss Granger, I'm blind as a bat, thank you for asking."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." she stumbled, but she was too focused on the smile, the real, genuine smile he had just given her.
"I'm not easily offended, Miss Granger, there's not need to try and scramble for an apology and explanation." he said with a glint in his eye before turning back to the book.
The color rose in her cheeks and she closed her eyes, anxious to regain her composure. She suddenly wished she'd refused the second glass of…whatever he'd given her. A short while later Hermione heard the book close and she looked over at him. He had just pulled the glasses from his face and was placing them back on the desk awkwardly seeing as he was still sitting on the floor. Snape rubbed his pale face with both hands before running his hand through his greasy hair.
"Well, Miss Granger, even I have to admit that was impressive for a first try. Extremely impressive." He confessed.
She felt herself blush at the compliment and was glad that her hair had fallen over her face. Professor Snape lifted himself lithely from the ground making sure to keep his hand locked on the desk at all times. With a simple wand movement, the bottle and two glasses shot back into his office, and this time had a more controlled landing.
"Can you stand?" he asked eyeing her carefully.
"Yes." she assured him, pulling herself up.
He made a motion to help her, but stopped himself quickly. Clearing his throat, he sat down on his desktop. Hermione couldn't believe how different he looked without his black robes billowing about him. He looked almost human. She didn't have time to think about that now as her knees began to wobble slightly. She took a seat at a desk, a few away from him, and let out a shaky breath.
"I'm sorry, sir." Hermione finally apologized.
"What for?" Snape sounded puzzled.
"Knocking you to the ground, I shouldn't have-"
"Miss Granger, if the Dark Lord was invading your mind and you forced him out causing him to fall onto the floor, would you apologize?" he angrily asked.
"Well, no, but-"
"I thought so. Ten points from Gryffindor." he cut her off, though he sounded tired.
"But you're not him, he's sick…and you're not."
"And how do you know that?" he inquired with a raised brow.
Hermione looked to study his face, which had gone hard and impassive. She knew he'd locked himself away behind the walls of the room he'd constructed in his mind.
"I just know."
"You'd be surprised." he muttered, fingering the Dark Mark that was burned into his skin on his left wrist, eye far away.
The movement drew her eyes to the Mark, but she didn't flinch or look away. Hermione was extremely interested in it. Seeing her eyes, Snape yanked down his sleeve.
"Sir, when you were in my head, how did I force you…out?"
"The force of the wave, obviously. The amount of energy that you put behind it was enough to push me out of your head. I suggest you don't put that much energy behind it again. I don't think that either of us would fair very well the next time."
"Why shouldn't I put so much energy behind it? It got you out, didn't it?" Hermione pushed.
"Yes, but look at the price you've had to pay! It's been nearly an hour and we've just managed to pick ourselves up! Imagine if you did that with the Dark Lord?"
"He'd be just as much affected as I would be!" she countered, angry that he was suddenly scolding her.
"No, he'd dodge your wave, draining you of energy and then attack. He's practiced the art for years. A seventeen year old girl is not going to stop him."
"But I stopped you." she said matter-of-factly.
"Foolish girl, do you think you won? Of course I let you hit me; I was trying to see what you were trying to do!"
Her heart sank. Here she had been thinking that she had beaten him, but he had let her attack him.
"I wouldn't have allowed such a thing if I had known how much mental energy you were exerting to accomplish such a task. It's not good for me, and it's far worse for you."
"Why?"
"With that much force," he explained with a sigh. "You have essentially weakened both yourself and the person who you were attacking. You can momentarily stop their magic, or greatly weaken it."
Hermione thought of when he had summoned the bottle and glasses when the two had first fallen to the ground. They didn't seem to be able to stay up in the air. His eyes suddenly rose to hers and she could see his anger growing.
"But using that much energy does more damage to yourself than anything. You've practically destroyed your mental blocks, and if the Dark Lord tried to access your mind tonight, he'd have no trouble whatsoever. Not to mention the physical toll such an act causes. In reality, if you were to repeat this, you would have no chance defending yourself from an attacker."
Her eyes widened with fear, and Snape leaned back slightly.
"I'm not saying that you shouldn't exercise such a tactic, just make sure that you know your limitations. Tonight they were obviously pushed too far."
"Is there a way to…strengthen a shield, mentally? So I wouldn't feel like this afterwards?"
He smirked at her.
"Taking a leaf out of your book, Granger, I'm going to tell you to practice. The mind is a muscle, after all, and the more you practice, the stronger you get. But I'm telling you now," he suddenly became stern again, allowing the coldness to seep back into his voice and his eyes flared. "You are not to exert that much energy again, do you understand?"
She nodded with wide eyes.
"At least until you've had some practice." he added, rubbing his face.
They remained silent for a few more minutes, trying to regain their bearings and their strength. Finally, Snape stood from his desk and walked around to fetch his robes. Once he had straightened them so he resembled his usual self, Snape turned to look at her.
"I think it's best you go to bed now; it would be useless to try again."
Hermione nodded and stood shakily to grab her things. She went to hand the book back to him, but he shook his head.
"Read the rest and return it to the library by the end of the week."
"Thank you." she replied quietly.
He nodded, but said nothing else, his eyes tired.
"Come, I'll walk you back." Snape broke the silence.
"Oh, you don't need to, sir." Hermione insisted, not wanting to be trouble.
"Miss Granger, not only is it past curfew, but you look as if you're going to collapse at any moment, and I don't feel like filling out paper work on you." he answered harshly.
Hermione said nothing, but left the room hearing his footsteps behind her. For a few minutes, they walked in silence, but Hermione felt herself struggling to keep up with his large strides as her exhaustion returned tenfold. Snape kept shooting her glances from the corner of his eye and finally gave a loud sigh as they entered into the courtyard.
"Sit down and stop trying to be a hero." His voice was tight.
"I'm not trying to be a hero!" Hermione snapped, letting her anger at her own weakness color her voice.
"For once, Miss Granger, could you try and not live up to every expectation of a Gryffindor? Keeping quiet when you're suffering is not a trait to be proud of." he retorted waspishly while gesturing to a stone bench.
Hermione sat down with a huff. Snape joined her without a word.
"Slytherins have qualities they shouldn't be proud of either." she countered, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.
Snape gave a small chuckle, but didn't respond. Hermione pulled her wand from her bag and motioned towards leaves that had recently fallen from a tree and scattered across the large cobblestones. The leaves turned into bright blue birds that flew around in a group chattering happily. Hermione couldn't help but think about how out of place the birds looked as they danced around in the moonlight. She changed their color to red, and then individually changed their colors so yellow, green, blue, and red birds were dancing around following the movements of Hermione's wand. Holding out her hand, a green, chubby looking bird gracefully landed on her palm as the others flew away. With a smirk she made the bird jump and land on Snape's shoulder. He didn't even flinch, but was trying to hide a small smile that had been finding its way onto his face. The bird then hovered in front of his face until he held out his hand, allowing the creatures to land in his palm. She watched as he reached out and ran a slim finger down the birds back, his face softening a fraction – so small that if she hadn't been staring, she'd have missed the change.
"Very impressive, Miss Granger. You're rather gifted with charms." he acknowledged, pulling his eyes from the bird and fixing them on her face.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders and willed the bird's color to change again. Now the plump bird was a burning orange.
"I spend a lot of time practicing." Hermione explained.
"Even with those two friends of yours?"
She smiled as the bird turned blood red.
"Yes, when they're busy fooling around, I don't have anyone to talk to so I practice. Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, anything."
"You feel the need to prove yourself." he stated, rather than asked as the bird turned a soft lilac.
"No, I never said that," she instantly countered. "But…I guess I do." Hermione concluded reluctantly.
She wordlessly cast a growing charm, allowing the bird to become slightly larger before turning the color an ugly pink which reminded her of a sweater her grandmother had given her for Christmas one year.
"And, pray, do tell how one 'studies' Potions without physically performing the instructions?" Snape asked, eyes carefully watching the bird still resting in his pale hand.
"I memorized how to brew each one we were studying in class."
"You memorized the instructions?" Snape asked with a raised brow.
"Yes, how else was I to learn? I couldn't exactly go waltzing into your room to practice, you'd have taken away all our House points and given me detention until the next year." she teased him slightly, wanting to take the edge off her words.
"You never seemed to need to practice." Snape observed.
"I know. I could brew every potion we did without the book. Not to say it wasn't difficult. Memorizing some of the instructions was nearly impossible. Mostly the numbers, like amounts of ingredients and times the potion had to be stirred."
"I can imagine." Snape agreed before falling silent.
"You must think I'm a loser." she blurted out.
"And why would you think that I believe you to be a 'loser', as you so eloquently put it?"
"I spend my free time doing schoolwork and researching things that don't pertain to school. I spend my weekends in the library rather than talking with my friends. Besides Harry and Ron, I don't have any friends." Hermione explained in a rush of words she couldn't stop.
Snape was silent for a moment as the bird, on its own accord, climbed his arm and perched on his shoulder. She turned it bright yellow before slipping her wand into her bag, no longer feeling like performing charms.
"No, Miss Granger," he finally replied after a long moment, his voice deep and revealing. "As much as I hate to admit this, you are rather like myself when I was in school. I constantly buried myself in my school work to avoid facing people. And I also memorized Potions," he glanced at her with a smirk. "I was always pushing things, trying to find a better way to do things. I ended up in the Hospital Wing more than once because of it."
Snape pulled out his wand and began directing the bird. Hermione watched the graceful gestures allowing her thoughts to slip away for a moment. Abruptly she was jerked from her musings when the bird suddenly emitted a flash. Hermione thought Colin Creevy was about with that ever-present camera. When her eyes refocused, she saw the bird, translucent and mystical. There was a beautiful silver glow coming from the creature which left small wisps of smoke trailing behind.
"Is that a Patronus?" she asked awe-struck, unable to place the spell Snape used.
"No, it's a rather complicated charm." Snape responded sounding slightly arrogant but not removing his eyes from his creation.
The bird then split in two, and in place of the first one, there were two slightly smaller chicks. The birds continued splitting until more than two dozen were gracefully soaring through the air. Snape put his wand away, letting the birds meander as they willed. The birds floated into the courtyard, prompting Hermione to follow them. As she stood in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by graceful and beautiful birds, she felt her spirits soar. For the first time in ages, she felt truly happy. Standing here in the courtyard watching these otherworldly creatures illuminate the night like fairies from childhood tales, Hermione was able to forget the ever-pressing dangers they were facing. Feeling the cold night air washing over her with a gentle breeze, Hermione allowed the tension she'd been carrying since her dream so many nights ago, seep from her body. Lowering her eyes, Hermione found that Professor Snape had advanced a short distance into the courtyard. The light from the birds allowed her to see that some of his tension had also abated.
"I didn't know you were any good at charms." Hermione mentioned, keeping her voice low in an attempt to preserve this moment.
Snape's lip quirked slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest and braced a shoulder against the stone archway.
"Yes, I'm fairly gifted at charms. Just because I'm a Potions Master doesn't mean I'm not capable of other magic."
"I'm sorry Professor, I didn't-"
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. The two remained silent watching each bird fade as the magic wore off. Finally, there was a single bird left hovering in front of Hermione's face, plunging the courtyard back into darkness. Holding out her hand, the bird landed elegantly in her palm, leaving Hermione astonished. When the feet made contact with her skin, she felt a cool mist that was colder than the night air. Hermione smiled as the bird ruffled its feathers dramatically. A moment later he light began to dim until the bird vanished. She could feel the mist slide lazily between her fingers. Hermione clenched her hand into a fist as she lowered her arm. She desperately wanted to hold onto this small event, but with the return of the dark came the reappearance of her fears.
"They were beautiful." she whispered to the man standing a short distance away.
She was grateful for the darkness so he wouldn't be able to see the tears threatening their way forward.
"Come, it's late." he replied gruffly, but she knew that he appreciated the comment.
Hermione grabbed her things and began the silent trek up the stairs that were particularly keen on keeping them from their destination that night. Finally, they reached the seventh floor, and were met with the Fat Lady's vicious glare for waking her.
Hermione bid him a good night and Snape gave a single nod to let her know that he had heard her before turning and heading down the stairs.
"Professor!" she called suddenly turning around.
He turned on the stairs melting into the darkness making it difficult to see his face. Hermione swallowed deeply, unnerved that she could feel his gaze on her in the dark, yet she couldn't see his eyes.
"I just wanted to say thank you," she mumbled awkwardly. "For the lessons, and…and for listening." she added lowering her eyes to the ground.
When he didn't reply, she glanced up and noticed that he had lowered his eyes to the stairs. Oh God, what he must think of her! Hermione didn't know which one of them were more embarrassed.
"I'll see you tomorrow, sir." she stammered before clamoring through the portrait hole with all the grace of a rhinoceros.
Hermione stumbled into the room and directly took her place in the chair closest to the fire that was dying. Her thoughts were racing, yet her physical exhaustion was a force to be reckoned with. Hermione was half asleep when she suddenly remembered what Professor Snape had said about her defenses.
The thought jolted her awake in an instant. She couldn't sleep that night. She knew she couldn't. What if Voldemort raided her mind tonight? What if he saw that Professor Snape was giving her Occlumency lessons? What if he found out that Snape was giving her lessons for the soul purpose of blocking the Dark Lord? Her thoughts alone could condemn him.
The rest of the night Hermione made sure she was on guard, checking for a foreign presence in her mind. She assumed that if Voldemort penetrated her mind, she'd be instantly aware. He'd be nothing like Professor Snape. The hours seemed to slow down to a horrifying crawl as she desperately fought to keep herself awake. Hermione focused all of her energy on her homework and when she felt herself slipping, she'd force herself to pace across the room.
Finally, after what seemed like days, the first Gryffindors began to emerge from their beds, sleep still clinging tightly to their minds, glazing their eyes. Hermione's eyes were burning, she felt nauseous, and her limbs were stiff to the point she was in pain. Putting her books away, she changed and went to breakfast, but pushed her food around her plate. Shoving her plate away roughly, she looked up just in time to see Professor Snape enter the room, his gaze promptly finding hers. Hermione, in a panic, turned her head and rapidly snatched up her things before fleeing the room. She didn't want him in her head today.