Chapter 9: Pensieve Memories

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

Thanks go out to VIVAvivacious for all of her help with this chapter.

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The deep, black, marble bowl sat on the sturdy mahogany desk. Silver-blue liquid swirled around within it, the shimmer of memories occasionally drifting to the surface.

Snape stared at his Pensieve, his mind filled with thoughts. He had an inkling of a feeling that one day the memories he was currently making would also be deposited with the memories already swirling within it. He blinked and looked away from it, casting his eyes towards the armchair before the fire. As usual, Hermione was curled up in the leather upholstery, scribbling furiously with her hair twisted and clipped out of the way, a spare quill tucked into the jumbled mass of curls.

He took note of her pallid complexion, much different than what it had been only a month before. He stared down at his own pale skin, noting the two of them made quite the pair: pale, troubled, and exhausted. Silently, he stood from the chair behind his desk and swept out of the room in the direction of the kitchen. He needed to take a break from thinking. Filling the kettle, he placed it on the stovetop to boil and busied himself with fixing a plate of sandwiches for himself and Miss Granger to share.

He stood with his hip propped against the bench, contemplating Miss Granger, as if he didn't already spend enough time unconsciously thinking about the woman. He groaned inwardly at the thought. She was the thing that most often occupied his mind of late. If he had still been a Death Eater, he would have been found out, tortured, and murdered before being left in a public place as a warning of some sort. Voldemort would have been easily able to penetrate his Occlumency shields within seconds from the amount of distraction his focus had to contend with.

He shook his head, refocusing on one train of thought. Miss Granger.

She was a dilemma, a very difficult one. He wasn't sure just how he should approach her. Her moods were a riot. The only time she was one consistent mood was when she was researching. It didn't matter what she was reading or taking notes on: making adjustments to her map, taking notes, or writing down formulas. Snape found a quiet relief in her acting like she normally did. It was something constant he could use as the stepping-stone for her improvement.

Picking up the tea tray he had loaded with a steeping teapot full of leaves, two cups and saucers, cream, sugar, and the sandwiches he had prepared, he returned to the study. He went to the coffee table, levitating a pile of books onto the floor beside it, before setting the tray down. The table wobbled precariously as he did so. He took a moment to lean over and see what could be done, pulling his wand from his sleeve and jabbing it in the direction of the loose bolts.

'That looks wonderful, thank you,' Hermione said as she eyed the egg and lettuce sandwich on the coffee table in front of her.

'Go ahead,' Snape said, nodding his head at the sandwich. 'I can just as easily eat the other one.'

She flashed him a small smile before picking up the egg and lettuce. Snape poured himself and Hermione a cup of tea each, adding cream and stirring before sitting down in the spare armchair. Picking up a triangle of sandwich, he bit off a corner and watched Hermione as she nibbled delicately at hers. He allowed his eyes to follow her cheekbone, along her jaw, down her neck, and over her collarbone. Her skin was pale, smooth, and flawless. No blemishes from the days when her hormones might have caused breakouts or scars from cuts or injuries she might have received in battle. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her cheek to see if it was as soft as it looked.

He frowned and gave himself a mental shake. What was he thinking, having thoughts about her like that? He was supposed to be protecting and helping her, not perving like an old letch, even if she was beautiful. Sighing heavily, he continued to munch on his sandwich until finally she coughed lightly and broke the silence. He looked up at her face to see her staring at him blatantly.

'I've already worked out my line of defence and which of my memories they have should be watched and what order to show them in,' she informed him with a triumphant look in her expressive brown eyes.

Snape crooked an eyebrow at her. 'Well then, pass it over and give me a look at it,' he said gruffly, thrusting a hand out towards her.

She smirked at him as she passed him the long roll of parchment she had been recording all of the details on. He scanned the page quickly before nodding his approval and handing the parchment back to her.

'It is all theoretically sound, but you will, perhaps, have to view the memories yourself to make sure the sequence of events is perfect,' he murmured, tapping his bottom lip thoughtfully with a long finger. 'You will also have to include the fact that the Wizengamot may ask for you to take Veritaserum during your questioning. Knowing Dumbledore, I wouldn't put it past him to suggest it to the Chief Warlock.'

'I thought Dumbledore was the Chief Warlock,' Hermione said, brow creased in her confusion.

'He did indeed hold the position until almost a year ago,' Snape replied. 'He stepped down, and Tiberius Ogden stepped in to fill his shoes rather quickly. I suppose Albus must have fancied himself too biased to remain objective; however, never doubt the amount of influence he still has over the members.'

'This is sounding more and more like I was set up by the Headmaster,' she said shrewdly, tossing her scroll onto the coffee table in front of her.

'Dumbledore does not take kindly to disobedience,' Snape said, malice dripping from each word he spoke.

'He likes to keep you on a rather short leash, doesn't he?'

'To put it in the most common of terms, yes, he does keep an eye on me,' Snape agreed with a nod.

'I don't mean to sound offensive when I say that, Professor,' she said hurriedly, almost sounding apologetic.

He shook his head. 'It doesn't bother me. I know how it appears, and you are not far from the truth.'

The room lapsed into an awkward silence, and Snape found himself glancing over at his Pensieve on the desk.

'Miss Granger, would you permit me to collect a copy of your memories?' he asked. 'I should like to see what the elders of the Wizengamot will see at your trial. It may help me to better understand the situation that you were in. I might even be able to help you with your special project.'

Hermione looked down at her lap and shrugged a little before nodding. 'All right, go ahead and take them,' she said quietly. 'It's... I don't want you to think any less of me because of what happened that night.'

'I assure you, anything you think you did on that night that caused you to believe you are guilty, I have probably done worse things willingly,' he said, his voice low.

Hermione's eyes widened at his admission. Standing from his chair, he closed the gap between them and pulled his wand from his sleeve. He touched the tip of it to her right temple after brushing a stray lock of hair out of the way. 'Now, I need you to think of all the memories that you want me to see, and bring them to the forefront of your mind,' he murmured softly, almost hypnotically.

Hermione let her eyes flutter closed, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. 'Refero monumentum,' he said clearly.

With a hand steady from practice, Snape began to pull the tip of his wand away from her head slowly, thick strands of silver following it. He kept up the slow motion until the strands finally came to an end and hung from the tip of his wand like strands of hair. He slowly stood and walked over to his Pensieve before casting them into the silver pool of memories with a deft flick of his wrist. As soon as the memories hit the surface, flashes of images began swirling around at the surface.

'Shall I view them alone, or would you like to accompany me? If you did, you might be able to explain how you were feeling at the time,' he reasoned.

She stood from the armchair and made her way over to join him at his desk, her arms crossed over her chest. 'I don't suppose seeing the memories in a Pensieve will be any worse than seeing them in my head every time I close my eyes for long enough.'

Snape felt a pang of something at her words – sympathy, perhaps? He didn't think it was guilt, but he was unfamiliar with it all the same. He reached his hand out to her, and she slipped one of her small hands into his, accepting the unspoken support and leaning her head down to the Pensieve as he did. He felt himself being tugged off his feet and thrown through the young memory until he landed, once more in the forest in the heat of battle. He glanced at Hermione from the corner of his eye and saw her eyes were bright with fear. He wasn't sure why, but he reached over and grasped her hand, tugging her along with him as he hurried to follow memory-Hermione through the foliage.

They emerged from the forest behind the cabin in the clearing just as memory-Hermione did, and they followed her as she crept around to witness Potter battling against Bellatrix Lestrange. Snape felt a chill run down his spine as they watched her make her away around the clearing in that direction. He bit the inside of his mouth as he watched Potter flee, and memory-Hermione stepped in to relieve him and battle the crazed Lestrange.

'What were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?' he whispered as he and the real Hermione followed closer.

'I was thinking my friend was in trouble and looked like he could use a break from battling a crazy woman with a skill level higher than his own,' Hermione retorted bitterly.

'And yet, Mr. Potter still believes Moody when that washed-up, old Auror casts aspersions on your character,' Snape said, crooking an eyebrow at her.

Hermione frowned and silently watched as her memory-self blasted Bellatrix backwards into a tree, effectively knocking her out. 'Yes, well, Harry is obviously far less grown up and capable of thinking for himself than I originally thought,' she said, though he could sense she was holding back as she spoke of the "Boy Wonder."

Snape felt his stomach turn as he watched Fenrir Greyback creep up behind memory-Hermione, itching to throw a few dozen nasty hexes at him. He forced himself to calm; it was a memory, so cursing anything would have been a fruitless waste of time. He felt the real Hermione tense via the hand he still held with his as her other self was put under the Imperius curse. He tightened his grip a little in a small show of support and led her as they followed Greyback and Hermione to the other side of the clearing where Ron was battling.

'I'm suddenly not so sure if I want to see this again,' she whispered to him as they approached the horrible scene that was about to occur.

Snape released her hand and grasped both her shoulders gently. 'At least this way you will be able to pinch yourself and wake up, or just close your eyes,' he told her. 'Come now, if you find you can't look on, just turn into me and you won't have to see it.'

Hermione nodded, and they arrived just as memory-Hermione started yelling out the filthy words Greyback had planted into her mind at Ron. Snape felt a small hand slip into his as the clearing went deathly silent, and then his breath left his chest as green light shot from the end of the other Hermione's wand while the real one burrowed into his chest to block it all out. As soon as memory-Hermione dropped to the ground, Snape could feel himself being pulled out of the Pensieve and was soon once more on his feet in the study.

Hermione wobbled precariously on her feet, almost falling to the ground. Before she could slip down, however, Snape reached out and caught her in his arms.

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A/N – Next up is the trial, which will be along soon.