This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction! I own nothing.

Hermione was floating. She was gliding above a large house whose owners had let the monstrous structure fall into disrepair. Hardly expecting anyone to be living there, she was surprised to see a small flicker of light in one of the windows. The next image that flashed in Hermione's mind was a dimly lit room, empty of furniture except for a large wing-backed chair. There were a dozen or so people standing around the old arm chair that was facing the fire place. The room was silent, yet the silence was thick and uncomfortable.

"My Lord." A woman's voice came from the closest cloaked figure.

The shrouded figure moved and kneeled beside the chair, bowing her head deeply in reverence.

"Please, let us kill the boy for you." she hissed, letting the sick sound of desire leak into her voice.

"No, Bellatrix, the boy is mine." A cold voice rasped causing the woman to flinch.

Hermione suddenly recognized the shallow face of Bellatrix Lestrange under the hooded cloak.

"You cannot risk it, my Lord." Bellatrix pushed.

"Silence!"

Some of the cloaked figures took small steps back as the woman scurried backward, still on the ground.

"Perhaps, I can make a suggestion, my Lord?" Another voice interrupted.

"Step forward, Lucius. Perhaps this can make up for your abominable performance at the Ministry."

Another cloaked figure approached the chair, stepping gingerly forward. A pale hand extended from the cloak, pulling the hood back to reveal his trademark flaxen hair. Lucius Malfoy dropped to his knees, keeping his eyes carefully turned downward.

"Perhaps, instead of trying to reach the boy, we take a more...subtle route."

"I'm listening." the breathy voice spoke, though his tone was carefully restrained.

"Potter is nearly untouchable with Dumbledore's protection; why not change tactics?"

"Continue."

"What of Potter's friends?" Lucius asked in a voice barely above a whisper as if he were waiting to be rebuked for his suggestion.

"What about them?"

"We can use their knowledge of the boy to find where the weakness in the Order lies. Through them we can find a way to extract the boy so you can finally put an end to him." The words poured from his mouth, his excitement building.

The room fell silent as everyone waited with baited breath. The house creaked ominously around them.

"Lucius, you know as well as I do that I have tried to break into their minds, but to little avail." The emotionless voice floated through the air. "I can see some things, more from the Weasley boy than the Mudblood, but it is difficult due to the distance."

"We can attack them when they least expect it." another man suggested feeling confident that the Dark Lord did not berate Lucius.

"Avery, were you not listening?" the brittle voice hissed calmly, only enhancing the deadliness in the words.

"But my Lord," the man stammered on, aware of the unwanted attention he'd attracted to himself. "We can get them when they leave Hogwarts and then-"

"Then what? Those two insolent children will be with Potter, and who will Potter have? The entire Order - including the old man! We cannot risk ourselves, you fool!"

Before the man had a chance to correct his transgression and apologize, a green burst of light flashed across the room. The man was dead before he touched the ground.

Hermione jolted up in bed breathing heavily and covered in a thin layer of sweat. She'd never had such a realistic dream before. Her mind flickered to Harry, who was sleeping in the next dormitory. Could it be possible that Voldemort had access to her mind, as well as Ron's? For a moment she let her mind run through the situation logically. The probability of Voldemort breaking into their minds was slim to none. Still, she thought as she lowered herself back down onto the bed, the dream was unnerving.

By the next morning Hermione had all but forgotten the dream. Her mind was focused on the Transfiguration test she had that morning. Walking down to breakfast alone she muttered the incantations to herself, going over the wand movements in her head. Once she was seated and had filled her plate, Hermione propped open her book on the pumpkin juice jug and began reviewing.

"Morning, Hermione." Ron grumbled sitting beside her, his hair an unruly mess.

"Good morning. Where's Harry?" Hermione asked, seeing Ron alone.

"Still sleeping; had a rough night." He answered absently, shoveling food onto his plate.

"What do you mean?"

Ron avoided her eyes and instead focused on filling his mouth with bacon. Hermione studied his face for a few more seconds before it dawned on her.

"He's still having those dreams, isn't he?" Hermione asked, remembering how pale Harry had appeared over the last few days.

"I didn't say that." Ron choked on some bacon in his haste to deter her.

"I thought he said they stopped?"

"They did! Now stop talking about it." Ron hissed before throwing himself back into his breakfast.

"Ron, I think I'd know if something was wrong with my best friend."

Sure enough, when Harry walked into the Great Hall, large bags could be seen under his eyes and he even made a move to rub his scar before quickly stopping himself. He sat down without a word and began picking at his eggs. Hermione desperately wanted to ask him about the dreams, but all he did nowadays was snap at her. She knew that he had stopped going to his Occlumency lessons, but he had told her that the dreams had stopped. Now Hermione knew he'd only told her that the dreams stopped to pacify her.

Hermione snapped her book shut and rubbed her temples slowly. Most of the school was eating now, and the babble of voices was making it difficult for her to think. Harry was in danger, now more than ever. He never closed off the connection to Voldemort; no doubt he purposely kept it opened so he could feel like he was a part of something because he was convinced that Dumbledore was keeping him in the dark. Regardless of his reasoning, Harry was putting them all in danger.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the post arrived. Owls swopped in from all directions, filling the space with the sound of hundreds of beating wings and a few disgruntled squawks. The tables were quickly littered with parchment and papers. Hermione received a copy of the Daily Prophet every day, but never really read the articles. They had stopped slandering both Harry and Dumbledore, and that Skeeter woman wouldn't be writing anything any time soon. But as she slipped a Knut into the owl's leather pouch, a picture on the front page caught her attention. Hermione was sure she'd seen the man before, but she couldn't place her finger on the time or place. The moving image of the man was one taken before he was thrown in Azkaban. He was holding a placard with chains wrapped around his body, but what bothered Hermione the most was the vicious contortions of his unshaved face as he screamed into the camera with his stringy hair hanging in front of his eyes. She was grateful that the pictures only moved and didn't produce sound. Turning the paper over to read the headline, the world came to a screeching halt, the busy sound of the Great Hall melting away into the background.

AVERY, KNOWN DEATH EATER, FOUND DEAD

"Hermione?" Ron asked looking at the paper.

She didn't say anything, but held out the paper for the two boys to read. As they skimmed the article, something suddenly occurred to her.

"Harry?" she broached as gently as she could, but Hermione knew she was unsuccessful when his piercing green eyes peered back at her heavy with suspicion.

"Have you ever, I don't mean to pry, but have you ever had a dream about him?"

Harry's face went cold and impassive. Something flashed in his eyes that made Hermione's blood run cold, though she didn't know why. It was as if she was looking into the eyes of a stranger.

"I don't have those dreams anymore." He responded in a deadpan voice that made it clear he was concealing information.

"I know, but did you ever have-"

"No!" he bellowed before leaping to his feet and storming out of the Great Hall, drawing the attention of those around them.

"I told you not to push it." Ron whispered to her reproachfully.

Hermione huffed and pulled the paper back towards her. She skimmed the article quickly, picking out key phrases.

"…prosecuted once before when accused of being a Death Eater…"

"…claimed to be under the Imperius curse to escape conviction…"

"…whereabouts were unknown…"

"…found in an abandoned house…seemingly died from natural causes…further medical evaluation is to occur on Tuesday…"

The paper slipped from Hermione's hand and her heart seemed to be beating an odd staccato rhythm. Deep down in her gut, Hermione knew something was wrong. Ron was buried in his food and didn't see her pale face. As if someone electrocuted her seat, Hermione jumped up and scooped up all of her belongings before stuffing them into her bag. The abrupt movement caught Ron's eye and he looked up.

"Where are you rushing off to?" He questioned around a mouthful of eggs.

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore." she answered trying to make everything fit back into her bag.

"Everything alright?"

"I don't know." she snapped before snatching the paper and running from the room.

Only when she reached the stone gargoyle did Hermione realize that she had no idea what the password was.

"Oh, no." she moaned to herself feeling the level of panic rise until she was sure she would scream.

For almost twenty minutes she stood there, her bushy hair worse than usual due to the fact she kept running her clammy fingers through her tangled tresses. The nearest classroom was a while away and she recalled that Professor Dumbledore was not present in the Great Hall during breakfast. Finally, Professor Flitwick passed, noticing her distressed appearance.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing here?" he asked looking up at his brightest student.

"Professor Flitwick, I need to speak to the Headmaster right away, it's extremely important." Hermione implored, realizing she still had the newspaper clutched in her hand and things were hanging haphazardly out of her bag.

"Anything I can help you with?" Professor Flitwick inquired.

"I'm sorry, no, I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore." Hermione responded, becoming frustrated.

"Miss Granger, I'm sorry, but I can't let you up to see the Headmaster, he's very busy and-"

"Please, sir! It's about Harry, I need to tell him something about Harry, and it can't wait!" she cried on the verge of tears.

Her watering eyes struck a chord with him. Flitwick's face suddenly became drawn and pale. She could see in his eyes that he did not doubt her for a second.

"Very well." he stated while walking towards the gargoyle. "Fudge Fly."

The stone came alive and Hermione instantly darted for the stairs.

"Thank you, professor!" she called before she lost sight of him.

The minute Hermione reached the door she knocked loudly on the heavy wood. She listened carefully and heard a gentle rustle from within. Instead of waiting, Hermione shoved open the door and entered.

"Professor, I need to-"

But there was no one there.

"Hello?" she called.

All of the portraits looked down at her as if she was an intruder and some began mumbling under their breath. Hermione studied the room, noticing all of the little trinkets that were scattered across shelves and hidden in nooks. Many books lined the walls, their spines written in languages that she didn't recognize. A squawk in the corner made her jump with fright. It was a Phoenix! Hermione approached slowly, unable to take her eyes off of the bright red feathers. Before Hermione could touch the feathers, the beautiful creature suddenly took flight and floated through an open window, gliding over the grounds. Hermione felt foolish, standing alone in Dumbledore's office. After a few more minutes, the blind panic that rose in her during breakfast began to ebb away slightly and she was thinking about leaving when the fireplace emitted a bright green flame. Hermione flinched, the panic came rushing back, and she suddenly couldn't stop her shaking hands. Professor Dumbledore unfolded himself from the fireplace and with a flick of his wand cleared the large amount of ash that covered the floor and his robes before looking up at her.

"A little birdie told me there was a young girl standing in my office looking rather disheveled." he remarked, giving her a warm smile just as the Phoenix gracefully eased back through the window and resumed its perch.

Dumbledore waved his wand. Two cups and a kettle of tea appeared on his desk as Hermione tried to smooth down her hair in a vain attempt to appear respectable. The last thing she needed was for Dumbledore to think she was a hysterical girl.

"Tea, Miss Granger?"

"No, no thank you, sir." she forced through the lump in her throat.

"Well, I can see there is clearly something bothering you, so please, proceed."

Hermione opened her mouth and quickly pressed her lips together. How on Earth was she going to explain without sounding completely crazy? It could have been a coincidence that Avery died the same night that she, herself, has seen a man killed in her dream. But a small voice in the back of her head told her that she knew that wasn't true. Dumbledore continued his careful gazing, but she had a feeling he was likely reading her thoughts, so to quickly put a stop to the intrusion, Hermione walked over to his desk and extended her hand, holding out the newspaper that was still clutched in her fingers. Without questioning her, Dumbledore took the crushed paper and smoothed the creases out on his desk.

"Ah, I see you are one of the few people who still read the Daily Prophet." he observed, raising his blue eyes back to her face.

"Sir," Hermione began before swallowing. "Did you read what-"

"Yes, Miss Granger, I read the article and talked with the Minister of Magic this morning. I am well aware of what happened that night."

He stared at her with eyes that urged her to continue, and Hermione somehow knew that Dumbledore was aware that she more important information to share.

"Sir, I-I…"

Hermione stopped speaking and he allowed her a few moments to gather herself up, but as she collected the courage to speak, the fireplace lit up with green flames once more. Severus Snape stepped into the room. He pulled out his wand to rid himself of dust when his eyes suddenly landed on the scene in front of him. Hermione didn't want to imagine what they looked like: The Headmaster calmly sitting at his desk, and her standing erect and tense.

"Come in Severus, take a seat." Dumbledore implored casually like they were old friends meeting for tea.

Snape did not move from his spot.

"I'm sorry Professor, I didn't know that you had another appointment, I should have thought about that before I-"

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted gently. "Is there something that you wish to tell me?"

Hermione felt herself cracking. She could feel her panic clawing its way to the surface of her mind. Her face contorted as the words began to tumble over one another.

"I-I…well, sir, I-I saw it happen." she admitted, noticing how ridiculous she sounded.

"You mean to say you saw this," he motioned towards the paper. "Happen?"

She nodded, afraid of what she would sound like if she spoke. Hermione refused to meet the eyes that were so closely studying her from across the desk. She was also cognizant of Professor Snape's eyes on her but shoved his presence aside to focus on the task at hand.

"How?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

The question hung in the air for a moment before Hermione's bag slid from her shoulder and crashed to the floor.

Hermione collapsed into a nearby chair and buried her face in her hands.

"I dreamt it." she muttered with her face in her hands.

The room remained silent. Hermione was embarrassed about her admission, but she didn't know why she was. Maybe because the Dark Lord could get to Harry easier now that he had found a way into her mind. She also felt weak and helpless, ashamed at herself for being such an easy target. It hadn't taken him long to get into her mind, and it wouldn't take very long before he took full advantage of the connection. Hermione was nearly sick as she thought how much danger she was putting Harry in. When she didn't hear a sound, Hermione glanced up and saw Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape staring intently at one another. The concentration in their gazes could only mean one thing: they were reading each other's thoughts. Finally, Dumbledore turned his eyes back to her.

"Are you sure, Miss Granger, that you saw this?" Dumbledore questioned kindly.

"Yes." Hermione responded quickly.

"How are you so certain?" He pushed.

"Well-I-I just know!" she cried jumping to her feet as she began pacing the floor.

Pacing always helped her to keep her thoughts moving. She recalled the images of that night clearly, and the words began pouring out before she could stop herself.

"I was floating above an old house, sort of looking down at it. It looked deserted, but there was a light in one of the windows. The next thing I knew, I was standing in a dark room. There were people standing around in dark cloaks. Death Eaters - I've seen them before at the World Cup, and then…"

Something had just occurred to her. Hermione whirled around and looked at Professor Snape. His face remained hard and impassive as he looked at her, but his dark eyes flashed for a moment.

"You were there, weren't you?" she immediately blurted, knowing she sounded accusatory.

Snape was silent. For a moment he stared through her as if she was invisible before turning his eyes to the Headmaster. The Headmaster was regarding her curiously before turning back to Snape. She swore that he had given Snape the slightest nod. Hermione's eyes snapped back to the Potions Master who had pulled his eyes from Dumbledore and settled them back on her. For a split second their eyes met, Snape's lips moved, and she felt an intense pressure in her head.

After Harry returned exhausted from his lessons, Hermione had questioned him about the experience, her thirst for knowledge rearing its head again. He'd described the feelings to Hermione and now, standing in the Headmaster's office, she knew that her own thoughts were being violated.

"No!" she snapped as the image of the house flashed through her mind, causing her to promptly turn her back and close her eyes.

Instantly the pressure was gone. The only thing that could be heard in the room was her heavy breathing. Hermione kept her back turned and her fists clenched at her side. She was thankful she had gotten him out before he had grabbed hold of the memory. Harry had warned her that Snape was brutal when he managed to clamp down on a thought or memory.

"Hermione, we need to confirm if what you saw is real." Professor Dumbledore stressed, folding his pale hands on the desktop.

"I don't want him in my head," she answered tightly. "I know he was there, in that house."

"How?" Professor Snape demanded folding is arms over his chest.

Hermione whirled around, met his gaze for a brief moment before quickly looking away, fearful that he'd still be able to creep into her mind.

"I-I remember…" Hermione pushed herself, trying to remember what she had seen. "I remember your hair."

It wasn't until Snape stumbled from the fireplace that Hermione recalled seeing him in her dream.

"You were standing in the back, on the left side of the room. I couldn't see your face. Your head was bent down. You were standing a little ways behind Lucius Malfoy."

She heard his quick intake of air and glanced at his face. Hermione knew that she had him. He was staring at her again, and she braced herself for another invasion.

"Calm down you foolish girl, I'm not going to look again." he snapped.

The two were still staring at each other; Hermione was ready for a battle if he tried to press into her mind again. Snape's glare faded as he regarded her thoughtfully which made her more nervous than his glare did.

"How long did you watch in your dream?" he questioned, eyes boring into her as if he were trying to catch her in a lie.

"Maybe two minutes."

"Then tell me, what did the scene look like?" Snape probed, giving Hermione the distinct impression that she was being interrogated.

"There was a single chair by the fireplace, and there were a dozen or so people standing around. They were all wearing black cloaks and most had their faces hidden. Then a woman stepped forward."

Hermione stopped as she saw his jaw clench tightly, a muscle pulsing in agitation beneath his pale skin. Keeping her eyes on Snape, Hermione continued, carefully watching for a reaction.

"She suggested that the Death Eaters kill Harry, not V-Voldemort." she stumbled over the name and saw Snape flinch.

"There was a man after that." Snape prompted, unfolding his arms so he could straighten his cuffs.

"Yes, Lucius Malfoy."

"What did he say?" he tested.

"He said that Voldemort should attack Ron and me, use us to find a weakness in the Order's protection of Harry and see when the best time would be to take him." she stated meeting his eyes evenly.

"And what of Avery?" Snape's eyes flashed.

"He said when we leave, to attack Harry so he's away from Professor Dumbledore. Voldemort became angry." she noticed that Snape flinched again. "He began yelling and then he-he…"

"We understand." Dumbledore intervened. "Severus?"

"It seems as if the Dark Lord has indeed breached her mind. The details Granger has seen are exact." Severus confirmed.

Hermione glanced between the two trying to find something, anything, which would explain both her dream and the silent conversation they were having.

"Perhaps Occlumency lesson will need to start? Miss Granger, would you be willing to attempt the lessons?" Dumbledore suggested, turning his blue eyes back on her.

"Yes." Hermione enthusiastically agreed, desperate to find protection for herself and those around her.

She witnessed Professor Snape's mouth turn down at the corners. Hermione was sure he was recalling the lessons he conducted with Harry.

"And Mr. Weasley, I think, should also attend these lessons." Dumbledore added.

Snape appeared furious at this point. He was glaring at Professor Dumbledore openly.

"Severus, you cannot think that after what you have told me and the events Miss Granger has relayed that I would allow them to continue seeing these things." Dumbledore chided slightly, sitting back in his large chair.

"The Weasley boy? He'll be just like Potter! At least with this one there's a small chance she'll pick up something, and even that's slim! I've said before – they are too young to be learning such things. They do not have discipline!" Severus exploded, gesturing wildly.

"If I recall, you were this age when you learned." Dumbledore retorted with a barely suppressed smile.

A noise of dissatisfaction came from Snape, but he did not answer. Dumbledore turned back to Hermione and looked at her over his half-moon glasses.

"Have there been more dreams like this?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Well, no, not exactly. I see flashes but I can't remember them. I try to, but they slip away too quickly. I don't know if Ron has been seeing things."

"I have no doubt that he has." Dumbledore answered absently.

The three fell silent and Hermione could feel her fear slowly growing. Dumbledore pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled for a brief instant.

"Miss Granger, gather up Mr. Weasley and report to Professor Snape's classroom immediately. I'm afraid that these lessons cannot wait."

Hermione approached the desk and took the piece of paper before grabbing her bag off the ground and leaving the office. Stumbling down the stairs, she fell into a hallway full of students who were off to their first lessons of the day. Everything suddenly appeared miniscule to her as she watched the students bustle around, completely unaware of the dark undercurrent moving beneath their world. They were now up against something larger than any of them had ever imagined.

When Miss Granger left the room, Severus allowed his shoulders to slump. Not only was he going to be stuck with the insufferable know-it-all, but now he'd be stuck with her stupid friend! As if Potter wasn't bad enough!

Severus knew that Potter would still be having his dreams; there was no doubt of that. He didn't know how to control himself or his emotions. Potter obviously did not have the skill needed; some people never mastered Occlumency. Severus realized that the man sitting before him had access to all of Severus's memories when they were practicing Occlumency nearly twenty years ago. Severus enjoyed his solitude, his dark chambers, and his laboratory, dust and all. He didn't like people digging around in his head, but that was the only way that Dumbledore could teach him. Dumbledore had seen his greatest joy and his greatest shame.

From Miss Granger's reaction when she felt his presence in her head, it clear that Potter had spoken to her of the lessons. If he breathed a word of what he saw in Snape's head to another soul, Severus would strangle him – consequence be damned. But Lily. The minute she made her way into his head, he closed her behind a door. He wouldn't think of her now. Severus turned towards Dumbledore who appeared as if he had aged considerably over the past few minutes. He was staring at the picture of Avery who was screaming on the front of the Daily Prophet, being restrained by a handful of Ministry workers. Severus looked away as last night's meeting came flooding back to him. A flash of green. A body on the floor. No one making a sound.

"Severus, return this evening for our meeting. For now, I want both Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to learn how to protect themselves." Dumbledore murmured without raising his eyes from the paper.

"I will need the Pensive." Severus sighed.

"I'm sorry; I can't allow you to take the Pensive this time."

Severus reeled. Go through Occlumency and not have a Pensive? He couldn't do that! Just look at what happened with Potter! The brat had rooted through all of the most painful memories of his childhood.

"I suggest you return to your classroom before Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley arrive." Dumbledore dismissed him.

Without another word, Severus stepped into the flames and returned to his classroom. He had finally achieved the position he had been after for years now: Defense Against the Dark Arts. The only downfall to this was that his personal lab was now farther away, still in the bowels of the school. Even now that Slughorn was back, Severus was still being asked to brew things for the Hospital Wing.

Slughorn. Severus sneered to himself as he stood before his desk looking out across the empty room. That man didn't know half of what he knew. He liked flashy parties and dinners which was the only reason he came back. Slughorn needed more people to have under his belt so he could receive free tickets and other goodies that came with successful people. Severus cleared off his desk and threw the essays he had been grading into a drawer, throwing himself into the creaking wooden chair. As the years went on, the writing became increasingly worse and Severus found it more difficult to refrain from completely obliterating every scrap of parchment that was handed in.

Severus rested his elbows on the desktop, clasped his hands together, and peered over them at the door, waiting for the hesitant entrance they'd make, afraid to step into the lion's den. Perhaps he'd start on Weasley first. His head would be easy to go through. Granger suddenly popped into his head. Now her head was something he was minutely curious about seeing. He could already imagine her crying when he thumbed through all of her personal memories. The door swung open and Miss Granger entered, chin held high, with Weasley reluctantly in tow. They both approached the desk and stood in front of him. Severus had not moved.

"Do you know why you are here?" Severus snapped, his bitterness seeping into every word.

"Yes, sir." Granger replied.

His eyes snapped to Weasley who nodded quickly with a heavy swallow. Severus couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips. Yes, this was going to be easy. He stood abruptly, causing the boy to flinch.

"Granger, sit down. You're first." he informed the red-head.

Severus watched as the pale boy swallowed again and paled even more, turning his freckles into blaring marks on his face. Severus made his way around his desk, telling Weasley to stand a fair distance away. With a flick of his wrist the desk skittered away, lining evenly against the walls.

"When learning Occlumency, you need to clear your mind of emotion. Block your memories. Do you understand?"

Granger's hand shot up. For God's sake! They weren't in class! He scowled at her.

"What?" he barked.

"Are you going to show us how to deflect an attack?" she inquired.

"If you make it through this lesson, Granger, it would be a bloody miracle." Severus bit out.

Granger sat back in her chair as if he had physically struck her. Severus knew she was shocked at the language he had used, especially with a student, but he couldn't possibly care less at the moment. He turned his eyes away from her and focused on the red-head. Severus could easily read the fear there.

"Eye contact is needed for this to work correctly, constant eye contact."

Severus raised his wand levelling it at the boy's face. He visibly recoiled.

"Attempt to keep me out of your mind. I will try to access your dreams pertaining to the Dark Lord. On the count of three. One…two…three."

Without verbalizing the incantation, Severus invaded Weasley's mind with no effort whatsoever. Immediately Snape summoned forward images of the Dark Lord. He could see Weasley's eyes widen as he saw the images in his head and felt Severus digging deeper. The boy was making no effort!

There was Avery, months before he was killed, begging the Dark Lord for mercy. Another image flashed of Bellatrix laughing at a twitching man on the floor and as she raised her wand to kill him. Another image swam forward in Weasley's mind. A girl. It was Miss Brown. He could feel Weasley's panic as he watched the scene unfold. And just to show the boy how vulnerable he was, Severus pushed violently and burst through the memories only to be met with an image of Miss Granger's face laughing. Severus smirked at the boy whose eyes widened. He could feel the emotion attached to the memory - an emotion more than sisterly affection.

Oh crap, oh crap, get out, GET OUT! Weasley's voice echoed through his mind.

You didn't even put up a fight. Snape thought smirking at him.

"Ah!" Mr. Weasley cried before tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor.

Miss Granger helped him off the floor and his eyes immediately flashed to Snape, full of fear.

"I-I heard you. In my head!" he exclaimed.

"Of course you did, you fool! What did you think I was going to do? I could have done anything in that head of yours - absolutely no defense!" Severus thundered.

The room fell silent as Weasley climbed into a seat and put his head down on the desk breathing heavily. Severus turned his eyes onto Miss Granger. She looked fearful, but she wasn't backing down. Well, that was more than he could say for Weasley. Granger stood in front of him, her chin jutting slightly up in a defiant way. Their eyes locked. He allowed a moment of constant eye contact.

"Three…two…..one."

Her eyes widened.