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Memories of Deception	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 20868 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Memories of Deception
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9.
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 71-71
- 72-72
- 73-73
- 74-74
- 75-75
- 76-76
- 77-77
- 78-78
- 79-79
- 80-80
- 81-81
- 82-82
- 83-83
- 84-84
- 85-85
- 86-86
- 87-87
- 88-88
- 89-89
- 90-90
- 91-91
- 92-92
- 93-93
- 94-94
- 95-95
- 96-96
- 97-97
- 98-98
- 99-99
- 100-100
- 101-101
- 102-102
- 103-103
- 104-104
- 105-105
- 106-106
- 107-107
- 108-108
- 109-109
- 110-110
- 111-111
- 112-112
- 113-113
- 114-114
- 115-115
- 116-116
- 117-117
- 118-118
- 119-119
- 120-120
- 121-121
- 122-122
- 123-123
- 124-124
- 125-125
- 126-126
- 127-127
- 128-128
- 129-129
- 130-130
- 54
- 55
- 56
Dislcaimer: See Chapter 1
The cell she had been held in at Malfoy Manor started to fade. What did I mean by what Dumbledore asked him to do? I seemed pretty horrified about something. And the sword… the Sword of Gryffindor? Why would Snape give us that? Well at least I know why I can't remember anything from the last 9 months. And Snape seems to have kept his word. It doesn't look like Voldemort knows what we have been up to. The memories of her time spent searching for Horcruxes with the boys had been the first thing she had been shown, and she had understood immediately how important it had been to keep the information from Voldemort.
But why would Snape risk himself like this. He's not on our side. Why would he do such a thing? The brief explanation he had given her in his office had told her very little of what she was about to see. He'd only told her how to use the pensieve and that he wouldn't discuss what he was showing her until she had viewed everything. He had barely been able to look at her as he had spoken. She had no time to wonder what was wrong with him as the mist had begun to resolve into the next memory.
Hermione had been in this particular memory for some time, and was starting to feel quite tired, but what she was currently seeing was particularly engrossing. She couldn't take her eyes off the two figures sat before her.
The Hermione of the memory was perched on the edge of an enlarged version of one of his armchairs, her body twisted towards Snape. Snape seemed to be pressing himself into the arm of the chair, as far away from her as he could manage, clearly uncomfortable. She placed one of her hands over his right one that lay twitching in his lap and curled her fingers around his so her fingertips were rubbing against his palm. His left arm was bent and his hand hovered in front of his mouth, as if to hide its expression from her. He looked almost scared of what she might say next.
"Please, Professor," she tried again, her voice faltering. "I don't want…
Hermione suddenly felt herself being pulled backwards out of the memory and she found herself back in Snape's study.
"No! I was just about to ask you something important. Why did you end the memory just then? What did I ask you?"
As she spoke, a wave of exhaustion ran through her. Looking up at the grandfather clock as she struggled to stay upright, she realised she had been in the pensieve for almost two hours.
A pair of arms suddenly surrounded her, and Hermione began to push them away before she realised she was halfway to the floor as her legs had given out on her. She was smoothly lowered to the floor where she sat in a crumpled heap. Hermione looked up gratefully into jet black eyes that were regarding her guardedly. As soon as she was safe on the floor he pulled his arms back and knelt down near her, pulling chocolate out of his pocket and giving it to her. She felt a momentary pang of disappointment at the loss of his warmth. As she took the chocolate Snape stood back up and walked away, going back to the desk where the rest of the memories were lined up.
"Are you ready to continue? The next one to show you is from the night that you were made to perform the Cruciatus on Lucius. Or do you need a longer break?
"No! she said firmly. I wish to see something else first."
He eyed her warily. "And what is that?"
"The rest of the memory you just pulled me out of," she said icily. "Why did you not let me see the request I made of you?"
"That was the end of that memory," he said stonily. He shifted imperceptibly, but enough for her to know he was hiding something, despite his inscrutable expression.
"I want to know what I asked of you. It was important enough for me to ask at such a time, and I can clearly see it was difficult for me to ask. I think it is unlikely that I would not have saved this memory, and I can see you still remember it, so either give me my memory, or show me yours." She glared at him fiercely but he still tried to deny her.
"Miss Granger, the memory is irrelevant to our situation. There are many more important things that you must see that need discussing."
"I do not agree. I saw you promise me you would show me all my memories that you obliterated. If my question was important enough to ask, it is important for me to see again. You will show me what I asked you, and your reply.
His cheeks flushed, and she was surprised to see how easily she could read his discomfort. What could I possibly have asked to provoke such a reaction?
"I... I don't…" he tried to speak with his usual firmness, but failed miserably.
She knew she had him on the back foot, and pressed her advantage. "Professor I insist on knowing what happened." She refrained from putting her hands on her hips to avoid sounding like a petulant child, but the look she gave him seemed to convince him that she would not let it go. Snape pulled a small vial from a pocket deep inside his black robes, and looked at it hesitantly as Hermione waited. Sensing her impatience he finally uncapped the bottle and poured it smoothly in.
"Miss Granger," he said, stopping her with his hand as she went to enter the pensieve again. "Please remember that this was what you requested of me. I… ah…" he hung his head. "I wish it had not been necessary." She looked up into his dark eyes, seeing remorse and uneasiness. What happened? What could be possibly be worse than what I've seen and been through already?
Nodding at him slowly to show she understood, she turned back to the pensieve and fell into her memory.
Some time later she emerged, wide-eyed and blushing as her eyes fell on Snape, who was sitting behind his desk once more, going through some papers. He was unable or unwilling to look up at her. She sank down onto one of the stone steps to think.
"I trust you are satisfied with what you saw. There will not be any discussion of what you just saw, not now, or later. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand." She wasn't sure she'd be capable of discussing what she'd just seen with him in any case, so his unwillingness to do so caused her no disappointment. She felt slightly shell-shocked by what she'd just seen. Snape did that… for me. She looked across the room at him slyly. He was still pointedly ignoring her, and she could well understand why he had been so unwilling to show her that particular memory.
The things she had seen over the last few hours painted him in a very different light. She was even more confused than before. If he'd only been protecting her, then why had he forced her into two binding oaths that basically meant that she couldn't refuse to do anything he wanted? His behaviour over the past few weeks also now seemed suspect now that she understood some of the reasons why she was there. His treatment of her had been rather inconstant. At the time she had assumed it was just because he was a nasty bastard who was enjoying his power over her. Now she was not sure what prompted him to be kind and almost caring one minute, and cold and harsh the next. What she had just seen made her believe the nastiness was all just an act, and if she was right, how did it affect the way she felt about everything she had seen? How did it affect the way she felt about him.
"Do you wish to continue, or do you need a few moments?"
Hermione looked up at the clock. It was still only 10am, since she had woken up so early that morning. "I'd like to eat something and rest for a little bit." She'd been unable to eat more than a few mouthfuls earlier and was starting to feel quite hungry now.
Snape snapped his fingers, calling back the house-elf that had delivered her food earlier. "Tiggy, Miss Granger requires something more substantial to eat." He looked over at her. "Do you wish for anything in particular?" She shook her head and he looked back at the elf. "Bring whatever you can find," he said.
"Tiggy will serve tasty breakfast to Sir and Missy," said the elf, before disappearing.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Snape quickly buried himself in the paperwork on his desk. You can't keep ignoring me. You'll have to talk to me at some point, she thought, looking away from him.
Snape's irritated grunt made her start, and when she got to her feet to see what was making him glare at the desk she had to smother a laugh. Obviously the house-elf had decided Snape needed feeding too, for the parchment he had been writing on were all stacked neatly to one side, and the quill he will still holding was lodged in the top of a pile of steaming muffins. He muttered a curse under his breath, yanking the quill out before setting it down on top of the pile.
He finally looked and at her and she couldn't help but giggle at the offended look on his face. For a moment Snape looked astonished, before a corner of his mouth also twitched slightly. He waved to the plate on the opposite side of the desk from him. "Help yourself." It too was piled high with muffins, as well as rashers of bacon and small pots of various condiments.
Hermione quickly transfigured a chair from a small wooden table that stood empty at one side of the room, and pulled it up to the desk. Somehow the mood in the room had lightened.
"It seems Tiggy has decided that I need feeding up."
"Perhaps she thinks that I haven't been feeding you well enough." Hermione spoke airily, but a dark cloud crossed his face at the thought.
He made an effort to speak normally. "Actually I find your cooking much more palatable than what the house-elves make. I find their food rather too rich for my taste."
"Too many sweet things," Hermione agreed. "We never had much sugary food at home, as my parents are both dentists." She felt a momentary pang of loss, but Snape was already nodding in understanding.
"Yes, I remember."
When she looked at him, confused as to how he knew that he spoke again.
"When the three of you disappeared I realised there was a good chance the Dark Lord would go looking for your parents. Potter's Aunt and Uncle had been taken care of, but it was rather a stupid oversight by the Order to forget your family. As if the three of you wouldn't have done something just as stupid if something had happened to them instead of Potter's own family." He paused for a moment to look at her, but she just waited quietly for him to continue, hearing only the truth in his words.
"I looked up their details and went looking for them, intending to move them somewhere safe, but I found them long gone and with no trace of where they might have gone. I guessed that was your doing."
Hermione nodded sadly, thinking of that horrible day when she had been forced to obliviate them and send them away. At least if Snape hadn't been able to find them she could assume they were both still safe.
Snape continued, more quietly now. "I believe I gave Minerva quite a scare. She entered the staffroom just as I was coming out of the records room. She was horribly curious as to why I had been in there when I had never felt the need previously, but she didn't dare press me about it. She probably assumed I'd been searching for records pertaining to muggleborns, to hand over to the Dark Lord." His face tightened and he suddenly went silent.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, laying down the half eaten muffin.
"It is of no matter," he said gruffly.
"I can see it's not just nothing," she replied, casting her mind back over what he had just said. Minerva…Oh! She realised suddenly the position he'd been put in, apparently supporting one side, but unable to rely on or trust anyone, and hated by the side he was truly working for. Forced to work with those who he probably once considered friends, friends who now despised him, for killing Dumbledore and turning traitor.
She looked up quickly towards the portrait that hung over Snape's shoulder, as she remembered something. "Twice in the memories I just saw, Dumbledore was mentioned. I was quite upset by what you showed me. Will I see that again?"
Snape had tensed up. "It was only necessary to show you those memories at that particular time because there was no other way for you to trust me. Now, there are enough of your own to prove that I am only trying to help. You will not be seeing them again. They are… private."
"Can you at least tell me why I was so annoyed with Professor Dumbledore? I was quite angry with him at one point."
"If you don't tell her, my boy, I will," said a voice from behind Snape.
By the time Hermione looked up at the painting it was already sleeping again, or at least pretending to. She looked back at Snape, who was scowling.
"What that interfering old windbag wishes you to know, is that he ordered me to do it. He decided it was necessary to ensure my place by Voldemort's side, free from suspicion in order to learn what I could, and help as much as possible."
"And what Severus will omit telling you, is that I was dying from the curse that had caused my right arm to wither, and that he was doing me the favour of a quick death. Then there was also the matter of Draco, who had been ordered to kill me or die himself, and whose soul I did not wish torn apart by murder."
There was silence for a few moments before Hermione spoke. "And what of Professor Snape's soul? Did you not care about that?" She spoke quietly, but inside she was livid over what she suddenly realised he had been forced into.
"Only Severus can know how it affected him, but I did not believe it would do him any harm. It was not murder."
Hermione had stopped listening, her attention riveted by the man opposite her. His face had drained of all expression as the painting had spoken, but she could tell he was working hard to supress his feelings. A wave of compassion flowed through her, and she reached across the table to grab his hand. He tensed, but surprisingly did not pull away. Perhaps he needed someone to show him a little kindness for once. She was still unsure of how she felt about him, but she knew she was at least capable of doing that for him.
She spoke softly, squeezing his hand gently. "If they knew, they would think the same of you that I do." Snape grunted noncommittally, but his hand had tightened on hers for a moment. "I don't know anyone else who would be brave enough to face him, for so many years, and deceiving him the way you have. There is no way to describe what you've done for us all, but I know you've saved a lot of lives, including my own, more than once."
Snape looked uncomfortable at her words, once again unable to meet her gaze. "I can't agree with you," was all he could manage after a few moments. "I can think of another person brave enough to do what I am doing."
It took her a few moments to realise that he meant her, and she smiled at him. "It's not the same," she said simply. "No, it's not," she repeated as she saw him open his mouth to object. "Most of the time I know nothing of the deception I am part of, and you must lie for the both of us. Besides, you have been doing this alone for many years, whereas I have always had you there to protect me."
Snape looked faintly pleased by her words.
"I just wish I'd never put you in this position in the first place. If only I'd not been stupid enough to get caught, you wouldn't have to risk yourself even further by looking out for me." She pulled her hands back, covering her eyes in sudden embarrassment. "I can't believe that's how I managed to get captured after everything we went through. Falling over a tree root and knocking myself out. Oh Gods!"
"At least it was useful when it came to concocting a story to explain your memory loss." When she peered through her fingers at him questioningly he continued. "I persuaded the Dark Lord that your condition was due to you trying to perform an obliviate while running from the snatchers and that the resulting concussion from you being knocked unconscious at the same time was the likely cause.
Snape gave her no chance to reply to this, standing suddenly and walking around the desk. "Shall we continue?" He looked down at her, holding out his hand. With only a seconds hesitation she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. She was standing so close to him, and she couldn't help but lay her hands on his chest as she looked up into his eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered. His only response was a slight smile as he stared back down at her. He leaned towards her slightly and she almost thought he would kiss her, before, with an effort he pulled away, turning and grabbing the next bottle.
"As I said before, this next one begins the night after we came back from the Manor the night that Lucius and the other were punished. Are you ready?"
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Memories of Deception