X: The Laughter

"I must admit, Miss Granger, that your defences have been completed to an… adequate standard," the Potions Master bit out reluctantly.

She couldn't help but smile in response. It was the sentiment behind his words, the fact that he had been surprised by her competency, to the point that he chose to comment on it, that pleased her greatly.

It had been hard for her to simply let Professor Snape into her mind. For years, she had practised perfecting those barriers, ensuring that they remained raised even whilst she was asleep. She had made it her basic instinct to protect her mind.

It simply felt wrong allowing someone to see her secrets.

Taking down the barriers one by one was hard enough. Leading him to where her memories hid was almost impossible. However, she had done it. She had let another person see the true extent of her capabilities (in one field) and the world hadn't ended.

He shifted around in his chair and resumed his usual, stoic posture.

"However, I must ask how you achieved the level of competence required to prepare such a sophisticated defence."

She simply shrugged. There was not much to say—it was long hours, painful nights and her characteristic perseverance. There was no magic trick; it was simply necessity. Although she did have outside help in testing how her barriers functioned, and making sure they sustained, she didn't have a magical recipe to achieve her mental defences.

"Well then, Miss Granger, at least answer me this," he said, capturing her with his black eyes once again. "How did you create those fake memories?"

She had been expecting his question.

"That would be assuming that those memories were indeed fake, Professor," she pointed out.

His mask remained as emotionless as ever.

"Are you suggesting, Miss Granger, that those memories were in fact real? That you had indeed courted the Dark Arts?"

Shaking her head in disagreement, which brought her barely-tamed mane of brown hair back to life, she defended, "Of course not, Professor. I am merely suggesting that believing that I created those detailed memories from scratch would be a false assumption to make."

He raised his eyebrow at her, patiently waiting for her to continue.

"I suppose you could say I exploited a loophole," she explained further. "As I am sure you are aware, memories are extremely hard to fake because of the level of detail involved in a true memory. I suspected that if I tried to create one out of nothing, the level of detail required in terms of sensory awareness would not be sufficient to fool someone as perceptive as the Dark Lord. Instead, I took a Muggle approach. Are you familiar with the concept of Muggle movies, Professor?" she inquired politely.

Professor Snape nodded back, a spark of understanding glinting in his bottomless eyes.

"When Muggles create movies, they hire actors to act out the scenes they want to film. I did very much the same when it came to my memories with Victor. We stayed in contact since the Triwizard Tournament, so I took him up on the offer to visit him. He remained a friend; I asked him for a favour, and he agreed. I didn't have to explain to him why I required this of him; he was eager to help, but keen to stay out of the problems in wizarding Britain.

"We staged a lot of those memories—except we used harmless spells. Once I had the basic foundations, it wasn't hard to alter them. You'd find, Professor, that the vast majority of those memories are based on true recollections. I simply altered them, replaced the emotions I experienced, adjusted the intonation of certain words to suggest something else entirely. It was a long-winded process but one I believed would reveal much stronger results. Apparently, it worked," she concluded, "since I'm sitting in front of you right now rather than being tortured by the Dark Lord and his minions."

"Alteration, not creation," the professor commented conversationally. Nodding graciously, he added, "Very clever, Miss Granger. Not that anything else could've been expected of you. So tell me, have you been told when you will be needed next?"

Since he had arrived from the depths of her mind, she had noticed the very subtle changes in his demeanour. He didn't actively seek every opportunity to undermine or insult her. He appeared more relaxed—well, as relaxed as Professor Snape could be. His lips weren't curled in the permanent disgust that suggested her mere presence was an inconvenience to him. Instead, the wrinkles that lined his face when he scowled had lessened, smoothening out as his expression turned less hostile. She would never dare to call him welcoming, polite even, but she would be remiss if she didn't noticed that he seemed less disinclined by her presence.

Perhaps, he had finally realised how much she had changed. Perhaps, he had been forced to recognise that she was no longer the over-eager student who always raised her hand as high as possible in class; he couldn't treat her the same way anymore.

If he had, then she was extremely glad for it. It was a welcome change to not face his constant derision whilst discussing such significant issues.

When it came down to the crux of it, she supposed she was thankful that Professor Snape had been placed as her answering authority. It was easier, with the former spy, to explain the important things—to stick to what the Order required. She appreciated not being coddled, not seeing the constant worry and compassion that she would have no doubt faced if she had answered to Albus.

In the end, there was nothing more she despised than patronisation. She was no longer a child—she had chosen to grow up—and she hated being reminded of what had once been. After all, that life was gone forever. Her younger self, her naïve self, was never going to come back.

And that was why she enjoyed the banter between the Professor and herself: at least there was someone who knew the truth who didn't treat her as if she were going to break. Who trusted her to keep her mask—because she was a spy, and that is what spies do.

Clearing her throat, she began, "Although the Dark Lord has proven my loyalty in an indisputable manner, I'm afraid there are still members of the Inner Circle who are yet to be entirely convinced."

"I'm presuming Bella was one of them," he interjected.

"Of course."

"What of Lucius?"

"It so turns out, Professor, that Mr Malfoy is my only ally in the entire Circle."

She watched his eyebrows rise questioningly, the faded lines on his brow becoming more pronounced. "A story for another time, no doubt," he guessed, to which she smiled.

"I will be summoned to a revel over the weekend, in order to display my undying loyalty and love for the Dark Arts."

"Have you attended any before?" he asked. Interestingly, his voice had turned to stone: his spy mask was back on. The subtle curve of his lip had disappeared, his mouth returning to the thin, straight line she knew and recognised well.

"Of course—how can they not make full use of their Mudblood slave?" she asked rhetorically, succeeding in controlling her bitter tone. "It will be my first as a Death Eater," she confirmed. "The first in which I am on not on the other side of their wands."

"You know what to expect," he stated.

She could only nod in response.

"Are you prepared?"

"It's the one moment I've prepared for the most, Professor."

"Very well," he said as he stood. "I believe you have sufficiently informed me of tonight's events, Miss Granger. We will meet again tomorrow—I will contact you as to when. By then, I will have spoken to the Headmaster about your progress. I would suggest you rest if you wish to be in your lessons tomorrow."

She stood as well and thanked him for his help. She was about to cast her routine spells when she was interrupted.

He really was making a habit out of this.

"I wished to inform you that our training session this week will be on Friday evening, in your detention. We will be preparing for the revel."

She knew that by that he meant he would be checking her preparations for the revel.

"Noted," she replied. "Good night, Professor."

With that, she Disillusioned herself and slipped out of his office, unnoticed.

Merlin, she couldn't wait to sleep.

The morning had passed by in a blur for Hermione. Feeling more sleep deprived than normal, she had been riding on her caffeine high in order to get through the day. She hadn't slept as well as she would have hoped last night. You would think that being severely mentally exhausted would be the perfect recipe for a quick, dreamless and restful sleep.

However, her brain was still recovering from the potent intrusions of the Dark Lord. Not to mention that Professor Snape's enlightening journey had put an extra strain on Hermione's mind—one she really should not have invited upon herself. She should have known better—it was simply foolish to painfully take down every single mental defence right after they had been brutally ripped apart by an evil megalomaniac.

She couldn't help it though; she was a Gryffindor. Whilst she tended to have quite mixed house characteristics, if there was one thing—apart from intelligence—that Hermione Granger was known for, it was her word. She always kept her word and she was proud of it. She had promised him a memory per meeting, if it helped him or the Order, and she would stand by that, even if he himself had forgotten it. Just as she had yesterday.

But dammit if she wasn't tired.

Draco had noticed. In the morning, right when she had woken up and drowned herself with coffee, he had let it be known that he was worried about her mental capacity today. She had growled back, not in a particularly cheerful mood because of her raging migraine.

She wondered if this is what the world's worst hangover felt like.

Draco had taken the approach of teasing her until she gave into his attempts to lighten her mood. Apparently, the dark bags under her eyes and her pale skin made her look like a vampire. He had joked that Professor Snape must've bitten her yesterday. But his concern for her well-being had been real.

She had been forced to construct a glamour for the rest of the day; she couldn't have Harry or Ron worrying over her.

Before she knew it, she had somehow cruised through Transfigurations and Charms and had even managed to stay awake through both of them. Her robotic notes had been to a satisfactory standard—more than enough for her to continue to keep up with her grades.

As she made her way down to the Great Hall for lunch, she found herself immensely looking forward to her free lesson in the afternoon. She was already fantasising about taking a restful catnap to refresh herself. Her caffeine-induced high had worn out half an hour too early. She was sincerely considering resorting to drinking one of her Stimulating Potions as a pick-me-up over lunch.

However, she had been avoiding that potion. Ever since she noticed that she was becoming overly dependent upon it.

Potions were extremely useful things; create one and it could not only make you millions, but fulfil any purpose you hoped to solve. The only problem was potions were also extremely tricky things. The complexities with which different ingredients interacted, and how the slightest difference—a second, an extra stir, even the humidity of the environment in which they were brewed in—could change the effect of a volatile potion entirely. It was the reason why accomplished Potions Masters were hard to find, why wizards resorted to charms and spells more often than their liquid substitute.

It took a high level of skill to create a functioning potion.

The problem was, unlike spells that wore off after their intended use, ingredients in potions were ingested and digested. They stayed in your blood stream. Unlike the purely magical charm, they interacted with the body.

It was why they were so incredibly dangerous. The side-effects of potions were extremely hard to predict. The Pepper-up Potion was only one such example; thankfully, it was relatively harmless to have steam blowing out your ears. When Hermione had created her Stimulating Potion, she had accounted for every possibility. She had ensured that it would work, that it was safe, that it provided immediate relief.

However, the combination of ingredients that allowed her potion to be successful also made it slightly addictive—only a little more than caffeine.

Still, she could not afford to battle an addiction in her position, no matter how minor.

Which is why she had distanced herself from its constant consumption, using it only when absolutely necessary. Like when she returned from revels and simply could not hold on any longer if she didn't seek external interference.

Taking her usual seat in between Harry and Ron, she poured herself a generous mugful of the best replacement for her potion: coffee. After greeting Harry, and reminding Ron to swallow his large mouthful of food before he spoke to her, she was just about to tuck into her lunch when an owl came swooping down into the Great Hall.

He landed right in front of her. Coincidently, right in the middle of her plate. And then promptly proceeded to stomp his legs in such a manner that he splashed her delicious spaghetti everywhere. Including her face. And hair.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, eyes shining with barely contained laughter. Taking one look at Hermione's disgruntled face, sauce-covered wild hair and pieces of pasta clinging onto her perfect Head Girl robes, they couldn't hold it in any longer. They burst. Only a second later, they were in hysterics.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione, you're a mess!" howled Ron, banging his hands on the table as he took great pleasure in her misfortune.

It only took a second for Ron to choke on his large mouthful of food, turning his face a brilliant shade of red. Coughing violently, he reached for the drink closest to him and downed it.

It so happened that it was her coffee.

Before today, she hadn't known it was possible for Ron to turn a brighter shade of red than his hair.

"Ah!" he screamed. "Water! Water! Water!" he chanted repeatedly, clutching his throat in pain as tears fell down his cheeks.

Oh, how she loved Karma. Soon, she had joined in with the rest of the table, laughing at her friend's stupidity.

Taking pity on his best friend, Harry used Aguamenti to fill up a goblet with water and handed it to Ron.

Ron would not hear the end of it for at least a few days.

Still chuckling, she Vanished the cacophony of spilt coffee, spoilt food and spit from the table. A quick Scourgify cleaned up Ron and her clothes. Harry was still patting Ron's back as he recovered from his choking fit.

Merlin, she had needed a good laugh like that.

Comforting Ron (who insisted that he had just had yet another near death experience), she relished the normality of the situation. It felt just like old times—the Golden Trio laughing together.

Finally, she remembered the reason for this entire debacle. The owl that was still seated on her plate, patiently waiting to be relieved of the message attached to his leg.

She untied the rolled scroll from his offered leg. Feeding the owl a few morsels from her plate, she patted the bird in thanks. With a hoot, he took off into the distance, flying out from one of the many large windows in the Great Hall.

Hermione unravelled the note. It read:

Dear Miss Granger,

Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I agree that the time has come to revise the student patrol schedule with greater emphasis being placed on Prefect authority. After discussing the matter with some of the Professors, I have decided that we should discuss it further in person. I must say, it is heart-warming to witness the great care and detail you put into your Head Girl duties. Could you please meet me in my office during the afternoon session?

Headmaster Dumbledore.

Harry and Ron, who had been reading the note over her shoulder, looked at her, puzzled.

"We're changing the patrol schedule?" Ron asked, dejected.

"For all Prefects?" Harry chimed in, considerably more excited than Ron.

"Don't worry, Ron, I'll make sure that Susan remains your partner," she teased. When he blushed adorably, his cheeks now resembling ripe apples, Harry joined in.

"You know, Ron, as Prefects you're meant to stop people from snogging in the corridors, not try to join them."

"Shut up, both of you," he grumbled, embarrassed.

It was a widely known fact that Ronald Weasley had taken a liking to Susan Bones, the Hufflepuff Prefect, ever since she had joined Dumbledore's Army. However, since the death of her aunt, Amelia Bones, she had closed in on herself. Her splinching accident hadn't helped either. All through it, the DA had supported her; however, no one had come close to helping her out of her shell as much as Ron.

After his relationship with Lavender Brown had crashed and burned last year, Ron had rekindled his feelings for Susan. When they had been assigned as partners during patrols (which was simply a coincidence and not her match-making at work, Hermione swore), Ron had been taken by the strength of Susan's character as she remained committed to the DA, determined to avenge her family's massacre at the hands of Voldemort.

There was one little problem: Susan was completely oblivious to his feelings. It didn't stop him from casually flirting with her every now and again though.

"Well, I should get going," she declared as she stood, stepping away from the bench. "I need to have the proposal completed and proof-read before the meeting."

Waving her good-bye, she walked out of the Great Hall and made her way to her chambers. She placed her heavy bag on the sofa and took out a parchment and quill to leave a note for Draco. Explaining the alibi Albus had created for her and asking him to stick to it, she placed a severe Concealing Charm on the paper. At least she could be certain no one but Draco would be able to read that.

After all, no one else had been made aware of the extra wand movement that needed to be added to the Revealing Charm. She had taken the idea from her Muggle world once again; the extra movements acted like a unique password. It was a simple concept, really; if only the wizarding world was not so afraid of Muggles, they could truly gain a lot by learning about them.

Noticing that she had enough time until the end of lunch, she began drafting a letter.

P

It has been an eventful week. You may wish to know that I have finally succeeded in my task. However, there is an ulterior motive to me writing to you. It has been over a month since I changed. And I will be unable to for a few more days. I'm afraid that the need to free myself will be overpowering if left simmering for much longer. This has never occurred before; I have usually had the opportunity to answer when called.

I look forward to hearing your words of wisdom, however rare they may be.

G

Smiling, she walked over to the fireplace. Waving her wand in an intricate pattern, she unlocked the connection they had created. Casting a Fire-proof and Concealment Charm on the parchment, she carefully placed it at the inside right corner, watching it disappear in an instant. She was glad to contact him once again; she had missed his comforting words of encouragement.

Having done that, she decided it would be acceptable to arrive a little early to her meeting.

AN: Sorry for taking so long to update! Life's just been so busy at the moment; I'm still catching up with work that's pile on! Hope you enjoyed that chapter! :) If you have a few minutes to spare, please leave me a review to let me know what you think. Thank you for reading! ~Kay

IMPORTANT NOTICE: I've also decided to start my very own blog! It is: clutteredcloud . wordpress. com Please do come have a read! I'm going to post all my chapters on there as well, along with just general posts about writing the chapters, asking your thoughts and being able to converse with you! I'll also post one-shots, or maybe pieces of writing that I thought didn't fit in well within the stories as stand-alones over there. I'm also thsinking of starting a recommendations section, since there are so many stories that I would like to share with you that I think are absolutely amazing!

Most importantly (I think), there won't be any annoying author's notes on the chapters there, since I'll have a separate section to talk to you. So, please do drop by if you have a few minutes and are interested in my writing.

ANOTHER NOTICE (sorry!): I have a new one-shot out! For crossing the "100 reviews" threshold, I promised that I would write a one-shot for one of my reviewers and they could dictate what it would be about. I asked XStrawberryDuckFeathersX (because she leaves amazing reviews—honestly, check them out, they are amazing) and now, I've published the one-shot!

It's called Beautiful, link here: s/9172986/1/Beautiful It's from Luna's perspective, about Harry. If you're interested, please do check it out as well. I'd love to her from you!

Ok, that's it from me. Sorry about the ridiculously long AN. ~Kay