Memories of Deception

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Thanks for all the reviews everyone. Sorry I've not posted for a while. My wedding was last week and it's been a bit crazy. Hope you enjoy...

Hermione was sitting on the floor of the library, surrounded by books, supposedly trying to find the answer to a difficult question Snape had posed earlier that evening, but really daydreaming about the man himself.

Snape had continued to try and keep his distance from her the past week since he'd kissed her, but she had realised something the moment he had turned from her and fled; he wanted her. She was sure of it. It was the only thing that made sense when she thought of his behaviour over the previous weeks.

Something had happened, she thought, the last night that she had been taken in front of Voldemort, which was stopping him from acting on being with her. What it was she wasn't sure, as she recalled how Voldemort had told Snape that he would be allowed to keep her, and even have children with her at some point. But there had been parts of the conversations she hadn't been allowed to hear. Perhaps something had been said then. Maybe Voldemort had wanted them to concentrate on studies.

It could be anything stopping him really, but at least it would explain the dark glances, the way he had been so careful not to come near here, even when teaching, the way his hands trembled sometimes when he looked at her. He wasn't shaking with anger, she knew what that emotion looked like on his face.

Then there was the way Snape had ended up wrapping his arms around her as they slept even though she wasn't even sure he was aware he had done so. She had woken a few times this past weeks to find herself held tightly but the man who had fallen asleep as far away in the bed as possibly, but who had sought her out at some point during the night, and who perhaps found comfort in holding her as her slept.

The first night she had tried to gently extricate herself, but had quickly frozen when Snape had stirred, whispering her name as he pulled her closer. The next night she'd not even tried to move, and just drifted back to sleep. She'd been loath to wake him, strangely unwilling for him to know of his actions. It was a strange secret to keep, but she somehow felt that once he knew what he was doing, he would find some way to make it stop, perhaps refusing to share the bed with her anymore. His presence beside her at night was comforting, and she had no desire to give it up.

The knowledge that he did in fact feel something for her had lifted her spirits considerably the past week. What with the incredible opportunity she had to learn from someone so knowledgeable, and at her own pace, as well as her newfound knowledge warming her heart, she was happier than she had been since being brought back to Hogwarts. For that matter, she was probably happier now than any time in the past year. 9 months spent which two boys in a tent fruitlessly searching for horcruxes wasn't exactly a pleasant experience ether.

She hadn't realised how much she'd missed her lessons until Snape had started teaching her. Reading the books she had stuffed in her bag hadn't been quite the same as being challenged and pushed by someone more experienced and knowledgeable.

Hermione turned her attention back to the books, realising that she had wasted more than enough time daydreaming, and that at some point Snape would appear, demanding an answer to his question on charmed potions. She turned the page of the book immediately before her.

The topic was extremely interesting, especially the way Snape was teaching it, although she wished profusely that he would set her an essay on the subject. She had mentioned a few days ago that she would enjoy such a task, but he had only grumbled something about not having time to read the encyclopaedia she was likely to write on the subject, and had ignored any further hints. Even so, Hermione felt it important to make notes on the work she was doing, as it helped her to collect her own thoughts in order to present them logically.

Head bent and deep in concentration, she was cross referencing a sentence with another paragraph in one of the books she had read earlier, when the door flew open, banging against the wall loudly. She jumped up, sending various tomes flying as Snape stalked across the room and grasped her by the arm.

"Come, Miss Granger. It's time."

"Time for what?" His face was strained and anxious, and she reached up without thinking to smooth the lines away with her hand. Snape grabbed it and pulled her close.

"Potter is here. You must go!"

Hermione blanched. That means it's time for me to take Harry to Voldemort. Overwhelming panic took over and she started shaking as he pulled her across the room. Strange that she had seemed so blasé about it for the past few weeks, but now that the moment was here…

"I can't… I don't want to…" She choked as the words left her mouth, and her legs gave way under her as she tried to fight the promises she had made. Snape stopped, and gathered her up in his arms before she hit the floor. Setting her down in an armchair, he walked across the room, pulling a cupboard door open, revealing phials filled with silvery liquid arranged neatly inside. Hermione barely noticed. Oh Gods, there's nothing I can even do to help him. If only I'd never promised to obey Snape.

He turned to her with a couple of phials in one hand, and came towards her.

"You want me to… I have to find Harry, don't I?" she said, still too caught up in her own worries to notice what he was doing.

"Yes," he said bluntly. "But not for the reason you think."

Hermione said nothing, looking up at him with a frown. She was understandably confused, but knew better than to question him.

"Every instruction I have given you in regard to Mr Potter is to be forgotten. You will not take him to the Dark Lord. Understood?"

"What…? But, why?" She gaped in astonishment.

"No questions for now, Miss Granger. I will explain everything you need to know. Firstly, I have something of yours, and it is now time to return it." He held out the hand containing the phials for her to see. She recognised what they held immediately. The swirling mist could only be one thing.

"Those… those are mine? But when did you…?"

"It is far easier and quicker for you to see than for me to tell you. Once we have restored these memories I will explain further."

Questions poured through her brain, but she managed to hold her tongue.

"What do I have to do?"