A Certain Amount of Sense

Chapter 16

Hermione opened the door but did not cross the threshold. Inside, Professor Snape was sitting behind his desk, apparently grading papers by candlelight. He looked up with annoyance to see who had disturbed him, but upon seeing whom it was, relaxed.

“Miss Granger. May I ask what you’re doing here at this hour?”

Her heart fell. He had forgotten. She started to back out of the doorway.

“I...I’m sorry. I had thought...that we had agreed to meet at this time. I...I must have been mistaken.” She had almost succeeded in closing the door behind her when she heard him call after her.

“Miss Granger. Please.” She turned around but kept her eyes to the floor. “I had thought you would have dismissed the idea of commencing with our Occlumency lessons. I must say, I am rather...surprised that you decided to keep our appointment.” She looked up then, to see what he had meant by “surprised”. Hope sprang when she realized that he was not sneering at her, but was actually looking at her with a fair amount of curiosity and, though she might have been mistaken, possibly admiration.

“I would very much like to continue, that is, to proceed with the lessons, if you’re willing. To help Harry, of course,” she added, as an afterthought. When she made no further move to come in, he put down his quill and sighed.

“Miss Granger, it would be very hard to instruct you if you were to stay where you are the entire night.”

“Oh,” she gasped. She took a step in, but hesitated before closing the door behind her. It was one of those pivotal moments in life, a “point of no return”. By closing the door, not only was she signaling the beginning of her Occlumency lessons with Snape, but it also symbolized her shutting the door on Ron and choosing the man inside. Mixed into that was the budding awareness of her feelings towards Snape, brought on by Ron’s accusation, and the apprehension of being alone, in a room, with a man.

She could feel his eyes on her, impatiently waiting for her to close the door and come to him. Quickly, she made her choice. It was simple, really. It all came down to one thing. Did she trust the man? And the answer, resoundingly, was a yes.

So she closed the door and went to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. She watched him put away the papers he had been working on. He was very methodical. Finally, he sat back in his chair and turned his attentions to Hermione.

“I assume you have finished reading the books I assigned you?”

“Oh yes, I finished them a few days ago.” She leaned over to pull them out of her school bag. “I made some notes, and I had a few questions about....”

“Please, Miss Granger. I will be the one with the questions.” She blushed. She so wanted to impress him, but she kept muddling it up.

“How much did Mr. Potter tell you of his Occlumency lessons with me?”

“Well,” she started, a little uncomfortable with the topic. “He said that Professor Dumbledore had ordered you to teach him Occlumency after last Christmas, because of what Vol-,” she stopped, extra-sensitive to his reactions, “what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was starting to do to him.”

“And what was that?”

“He was able to invade his dreams.” She paused again because what she was about to say next was slightly disloyal towards Harry. “He tricked Harry into believing that he had Sirius in the Department of Mysteries.” There was more to be said, but she did not want to go down that path, and, it seemed, neither did Snape, for he chose then to change the subject.

“And did he describe to you the nature of the lessons themselves?”

She nodded. “He said that they consisted of you trying to, um, attack him with Legilimency while he tried to fend you off. Professor?” He sighed, knowing that if he didn’t let her ask her question, he wouldn’t be getting very far into the lesson.

“What is it, Miss Granger?”

“Why didn’t you give him the books to read? I’m sure they would have helped. There were all sorts of exercises and theories in there that would have told him how to....”

“And when, pray tell, was the last time Mr. Potter voluntarily read a book that didn’t concern Quidditch?”

“But I’m sure he would have read these, I mean, if only to....”

“Really, Miss Granger, if you persist in questioning my teaching methods, perhaps it would be better off if we stop right here.” That shut her up straight away. It did not, however, stop her from glaring at him petulantly. In fact, her lower lip seemed to have protruded the slightest bit beyond her upper one. Could she possibly be pouting? At him? No student of his had ever dared try that tactic with him. And, to his horror, it was working.

“Very well, if you must know, I had ascertained from previous experiences, that your Mr. Potter seemed to be able to grasp certain concepts more easily if he were to rely on his own instincts, instead of being taught how to do them.” Hermione considered this and realized that he was right: Harry’s first time on a broomstick, resisting the Imperius curse, conjuring the Patronus.... It was part of the reason why she had called him “a great wizard” that first year, because of his ability to naturally do some of the things that she could only do after much reading and preparing.

Snape seemed to be reading her thoughts as he continued, “You, on the other hand, need to understand all the theories and concepts behind a spell before you feel confident enough to cast it.” And it was true. It was her deepest secret, actually. All the time spent in the library and studying wasn’t so much to get ahead, but to research all she could find about what was on her syllabi so that when the time came round to actually perform the magic, she would be ready. All the other bits of information that she picked up along the way...well, she just happened also to have a very good memory. But somehow, Snape knew all this.

Well obviously, she thought to herself a second later. He’s a very talented Legilimens. She should be more surprised if there was something he didn’t know about her after five years of classes with him. And the fact that she had been staring directly into his eyes the last few minutes, unguarded. Immediately, she looked away. One of the eyeballs in the jars the lined the wall stared back at her, but it was preferable to looking at him.

“It is not all that surprising, given that you are, after all, Muggle born. And no, I did not mean that as an insult,” he said, for she had briefly glared at him after he had said those words, before looking away again. “It is an inescapable fact, and it does play a part in the nature of your character. Do not forget, without your skills in logic, Mr. Potter would not have been able to get past my obstacle on the way to the Sorcerer’s Stone.” The comment seemed to placate her as she was no longer frowning, but she continued to avoid his eyes.

“Miss Granger, is it so much to ask that you look at me when I am addressing you? I can assure you, I will not be practicing Legilimency upon you tonight.” That brought about the desired reaction, although he thought that she was probably more concerned about the adjourning of their lesson than obeying his wishes.

“But...I thought...you had agreed.…”

“After all that you have read on the subject, do you really think that you are capable of performing Occlumency right now?” The harshness of his words belied the concern he had for her mental state, and he saw the hurt flash through her eyes before she could mask it. When she made no attempt to respond, he replied, “I thought as much.” Instead of the usual pause to sneer that would otherwise have accompanied this pronouncement, he continued on. “No, I thought it would be more prudent to begin with you practicing Legilimency on me, especially since you will need to master the art yourself in order to teach Potter.”

His decision greatly relieved Hermione. He was still going to teach her Occlumency, but just not today. She had been rather anxious about having to endure the same type of mind attacks that Harry had undergone, but her stubbornness had prevented her from backing out. If she didn’t know any better, she would have suspected that he had foreseen this and adapted the lesson accordingly. But no, the professor was not one to coddle weaknesses. Especially in Gryffindors.

“You may proceed.” He leaned back into his chair and placed both arms on the armrests while keeping eye contact with her. It was the most relaxed she had ever seen the man, and it galled her that he thought so little of her skill in Legilimency. After four repeated attempts however, she had to concede that perhaps he was right. His mind was as smooth as one of Trelawney’s polished crystal balls. There were no cracks to be found, no footholds to clutch, there was just...nothing. Only the smirk on his lips told of what he was thinking. After the seventh try, she started thinking about giving up, but it wasn’t until after the twelfth try that she actually did. She was shaking, completely worn out, while he still seemed completely at ease.

When the pause turned into a lengthy silence, he quirked one eyebrow and inquired if she was finished. She growled a “yes” before sinking back into her chair, exhausted.

“That was a miserable beginning, Miss Granger, worthy of Longbottom.”

“I know,” she groaned, too tired to defend her friend. “I just can’t seem to....” As she pondered what she was doing wrong, she started chewing on her lower lip. It was a nervous habit, something she did unconsciously, but the tiny motion captivated Snape in a way that none of Pansy Parkinson’s most brash attempts at lewdness could ever hope to. When she finally sat upright with a grin and shouted, “I’ve got it!” he found himself unprepared for what happened next.

“Legilimens!”

He saw his mother lying on the ground, bruised and unconscious from one of his father’s beatings.... He was waiting in line to be sorted, eyeing Sirius with jealousy because he too, wished to be sorted out of the house his family had been in for as long as they could remember.... He was at his Graduation ceremony, looking in vain for a familiar face to congratulate him in the crowd full of other graduates and their loving families, when he saw the unmistakable blond head of Lucius Malfoy make its way towards him.... He was watching Potter try to stay on his broomstick even as he muttered the counterjinx when he first felt the warm licks of the flames eating his robes....

“ENOUGH!” he bellowed. He opened his eyes to find that he had fallen half out of his chair and that Hermione had already come around the desk and knelt down beside him. She reached out a hand to steady him.

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have.... You weren’t prepared....” He shook her hand off his shoulder and righted himself.

“Do not touch me again, Miss Granger. And kindly return to your seat. Now.” He was grateful that she decided to obey him this time. He really hadn’t expected her to be able to break through his shields. Apparently whatever she had figured out, combined with his lack of focus, had given her the opening she had needed. To be honest, it was probably his own fault, more than anything. But it was definitely going to be the end of tonight’s lesson.

“I believe that is enough for now.” To quell whatever thoughts of triumph she might have had, he went on. “I trust that I do not have to tell you not to speak of what you saw....”

“You know I won’t!” she exclaimed. He knew she was speaking the truth and replied with a bare nod of the head.

“Then I charge you with the task of practicing on Mr. Potter. Do not attempt to instruct him in Occlumency, yet. The purpose of this exercise is for you to improve your Legilimency, not to lead him astray with what little you may think you know of its counter-magic. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then I will expect to see you here again next week at the same hour.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She knew a dismissal when she heard it and started packing up her bag. She rose and was about to leave when he called for her again.

“Miss Granger?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Perhaps it would be safer if you used Mr. Potter’s invisibility cloak the next time you come here, seeing as how the excuse I told Potter to give last year when he came for his lessons would not apply to you.” She thought for a moment before she could remember what he was talking about. Remedial Potions. She almost smiled in amusement when she replied, “No, sir.”

“I will ask Mr. Filch to escort you back to your rooms, this time. If you meet anybody along the way, you are to say that you were serving a detention with me.” Unsaid was the fact that it would be unwise for her to be walking through the dungeon corridors at this time of night.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, gratefully. He snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared.

“Please find Mr. Filch and tell him that his presence is required at my office, straightaway.”

“Yes, Professor.” He cracked out of sight, leaving Hermione standing awkwardly by the door as she waited for Mr. Filch to come.

“Um, Professor?”

“What is it now?” he snapped.

“I was just wondering....” When it seemed like she was not going to continue, he sighed and encouraged her with a “Yes?”

Oh God, if this wasn’t the bravest thing she had ever done. Braver than when she had lied about the troll, braver than when she had led Professor Umbridge and Harry into the Forbidden Forest last year....

“I was wondering if you would like to find out what a movie is.”