Hello again, hospital wing. Maybe I should move here permanently? It would be more convenient to go through the rituals from Sirius's book with Madam Pomfrey.
The boys are here too. Nothing happened to them, but when Snape dragged me here yesterday, they tagged along and also ended up in the healer's hands.
Ron told me that Dumbledore came in the morning, and Ron himself couldn't coherently explain what happened yesterday, but then Dumbledore did something, and the events of yesterday began flashing before his eyes. He and Harry were walking around the school in the evening and wandered where they weren't expected—they stumbled upon a half-dressed couple. An upperclassman cast a Confundus charm on them and said: "There's nothing interesting here, but now you'll go further down the corridor and see what you've been looking for." Harry and Ron obediently left, and after some time stumbled upon a rat in the corridor. For some reason, Ron thought it was Scabbers. Moreover, he was one hundred percent sure. And chased after it down the corridor shouting "Scabbers, come back!" Lupin heard them—he already knew who Scabbers was from Sirius, and of course, couldn't remain indifferent. Then Snape ran into their picturesque group and, as they say, "everyone started running, so I ran too." He decided to figure out what was going on and followed them...
Well, I know the rest.
Ron is a pureblood, but he doesn't know what Legilimency is. How can you live like that? And he definitely wasn't hurt by Dumbledore's Legilimency, although textbooks say it's quite a painful process. Probably this is a sign of the headmaster's highest mastery.
Madam Pomfrey came and said we were all fine and could go to breakfast. And at lunch, Professor Sprout caught me and asked me to come see her after classes.
We had a very nice chat over tea. I told her a completely truthful story—that I was walking from Hagrid's, saw running boys and professors, but who knows why they were running? So I calmly headed to the castle, but halfway there I heard a frightened scream and saw students and Professor Snape running back, with a wolf preparing to attack them. The only thing I didn't mention was Scabbers.
The Dean was upset that I had to experience such a thing, poured another cup of calming blend and switched to various trifles. I went to sleep in high spirits—"Scabbers" turned out to be just a rat, yesterday everything worked out, good relations with the Dean—also pleasant.
But the next day a less pleasant conversation awaited me, also known as an interrogation. Professor Snape met me after classes and told me to follow him. We enter his office, Snape nods toward a chair, sits across from me and looks at me with an inquisitor's gaze. I look over his left shoulder at the shelves with ingredients. The silence drags on.
"Miss Granger, may I ask what you forgot outside during the last full moon?"
"I was delayed at Hagrid's and was walking to Hogwarts."
"Are you aware that curfew had already begun?"
"Yes, sorry, I lost track of time, sir. Detention?"
"And are you aware that walking on moonlit nights with a werewolf in the neighborhood is simply phenomenal madness? I didn't expect you to be such an idiot. Especially since you knew about the werewolf. Didn't even a drop of brains find its way into your shaggy, empty head to guess what such foolishness could lead to?"
Maybe he'll just scold me and let me go?
"Do you understand that you could easily have died because you're such a moron?"
"Yes, sir," eyes to the floor, I'm supposed to be ashamed and all that.
"And what exactly were you doing at Hagrid's that was so interesting that it was worth forgetting school rules for?"
"We were talking about his next lesson. It will feature Thestrals."
"Judging by your Boggart, you'll see them."
"I'm not the only one who will see them, Professor. Unfortunately."
"Who were those people? The ones you saw in the fire?"
I'm starting to get angry. What the hell?
"That's none of your business, Professor," I say clearly.
"Not mine. It's just that all this is very suspicious. You are suspicious, Miss Granger. You're awfully good at finding yourself in the thick of events. And sometimes you seem to know a bit more than you should."
"Believe me, sir, finding myself in the thick of events with a werewolf was the last thing I wanted. And I didn't even imagine such a possibility two days ago. I can swear an oath."
"And can you swear an oath about everything else too?"
"I don't understand what you mean."
"Why does Black's owl bring you gifts?"
"That's also none of your business, sir, but I'll answer: since we communicate with Harry, he introduced me to his godfather. And Sirius liked the style of my letters. We correspond. And why he sends gifts—I can only assume. After so many years of unjust imprisonment, he wants to indulge a little. And he spends more money than necessary. Just for pleasure."
"Sirius... how sweet," so much venom in his voice.
"So what?"
"Oh, nothing, it's amazing how quickly some Muggle-born witches learn the realities of the magical world and how cleverly they arrange themselves."
"And what does this cleverness consist of?"
"Well, remember what you said to Draco Malfoy back in first year, about Mudbloods, about how important a surname is in magical Britain..."
"Pfff," I was amused, "You think I want to marry Black?"
"Well, Miss Granger, a rich heir, the last in his line, no one would object to a Mudblood bride..."
"You're just not acquainted with Lady Walburga's portrait," damn, I got amused and forgot about caution.
"And how are you acquainted with it, please don't hide it."
"From letters, Professor, I told you, we correspond. And I'm not planning to marry Sirius, believe me," I'm tempted to ask: "Are you jealous?" But I can't even imagine the reaction to that.
"And who then, Potter?" Snape spits out with hatred.
"Do I really look like a mercenary bride? I'm fourteen. And you yourself called me a Mudblood. And in the Muggle world, no one thinks about marriage so early. You know what, sir, if some Muggle-born acquaintance of yours once arranged herself in the magical world exactly like that, it doesn't mean all the rest are the same!" I'm finally losing my temper.
"What can you possibly understand about this?! Don't consider yourself the smartest, Miss Granger, that's far from true."
Now there's real hatred in his voice. He continues:
"And you knew that Lupin is a werewolf..."
"Come on, Professor! Are you kidding? Do you think after your such subtle hints anyone in this damn school didn't know? You'd have to be deaf, blind, and mute for that, and we don't have any such students!"
"Surprisingly, except for Slytherins, few are still in the know. But their opinion interests no one. But you knew and told no one, why?"
"First, how do you know whether I told anyone or not? Second, what's the difference? Everything in this school is decided by Dumbledore."
"Headmaster Dumbledore, Granger."
"Of course, Professor Snape, sir," it seems he's deliberately provoking me, hoping I'll blurt out something useful, "now may I go?"
"Sit, Miss Granger," he indicates with his gaze a red glass pyramid pressing down a pile of parchments on the desk, "Do you know what this is?"
"A paperweight?"
"This artifact detects lies. The more lies, the redder it becomes. You lie too much, Miss Granger. In itself, this is normal for students who want to hide their minor sins, but in your case, too many questions arise."
"Professor, I'm bitter to admit it, but this is something unhealthy. Lupin has sclerosis since he forgets to drink vital potion, and you have paranoia."
I'm resorting to personal attacks, but how much can one take? Let him take all the points from the house, I don't care. The pause drags on. Snape is clearly trying to decide something.
"Forgive me, Miss Granger... Legilimens!"
The earrings burn my ears—the first wall of defense, scrupulously built thanks to countless meditations, crumples like paper. I shouldn't have lost my temper so much in the conversation; the more emotions, the worse the Occlumency. Bitch, how it hurts! My pride—a looped mirror labyrinth I'd worked on for a year—melts before my eyes... Ocean, no shores visible, ripples on the water, sun glare, quiet splashes... but Snape dives deep. With the methodical precision of a vivisector, he sorts through memories, categorizes, discards unnecessary ones... Mom strokes my cheek: "You scared us so much, sweetheart." Mentally I create a wave, a huge mass of water should cover Snape completely, but he waves it off, cutting the wave in two. Water carries away the hospital room with Hermione and her mother, not touching the Legilimens. The world turns upside down, I lose balance (in my own head), my upset father sits on the sofa, I tell him: "And for them—I'm just a Mudblood." This is most like rape. Don't think about a white rabbit! I fall into a dark hole like Alice—this shouldn't be in my head, this is foreign! Before my eyes a map: a dot labeled Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack. Damn, Snape got to the Marauder's Map! Double damn, Snape read in my head that this is the Marauder's Map, and who these marauders are, he knows perfectly well! I can't push him out, he's too strong. And some of my memories are much worse than the Marauder's Map, they're deadly dangerous for me. The most vividly imprinted images flash through my head—good thing he doesn't know where to dig, this gives me a small margin of time, but very small. Meanwhile, I'm dancing with Justin at the ball... This doesn't interest him, he discards it. "How quickly modern schoolgirls grow up! Fine, I agree. And by the way, you can call me Rita," Skeeter smiles. A desperate idea is born in my head. If I can't make you not look, I need to make you look at what I want to show! Urgently think: what can shock Snape? I need to make him stop at least briefly, and maybe I'll have enough strength to push him out of my head. He's a Death Eater, various horrors and dismemberment won't affect him. Meanwhile, I'm handing a goblin several pieces of basilisk skin. In desperation, I slip him a picture of Professor McGonagall in a hat with rabbit ears playing the accordion while Snape himself jumps rope nearby, trying to match the rhythm. I hear someone's chuckling at the edge of consciousness. Ksyusha catches a ball and laughs merrily. No, no one can come here! Now! Snape presses me against the wall with his whole body and passionately bites into my lips. The pressure in my head immediately weakened—let's deepen the situation. The man hurriedly unbuttons my school blouse, almost tearing them off, kisses my neck... I almost feel Snape's shock in my head. A little more: Snape grabs my butt, lifting me, and I wrap my legs around him...
Yes!
I sharply push this bastard out of my head; in reality, he also recoils from me, crashing into his desk.
"Miss Granger..." he whispers in shock.
I turn and rush headlong out of the office.
Hot, hot! Running, I tear the charred earrings from my burned ears, blood flows from my nose onto my robes. Bitch, bitch, bitch! I fly into the hospital wing.
"Hermione, dear, what happened to you?!" the healer runs toward me.
"Madam Pomfrey, help, I have a burn," I extend the burnt earrings on my palm, "and I feel very bad, Professor Snape got into my head! It hurts so much!" Without thinking, I turn in the bastard.
"He's gone mad, Legilimency on children!" the woman throws up her hands, "I'll give him what for! Come here, dear, lie down quickly," she removes the blood from my face with a movement of her wand, "Here, drink this—it's a soothing balm, I'll bring burn ointment now."
I managed to doze a little when Snape showed up in the hospital wing with my bag. To reconnoiter the situation, apparently. I lie behind a screen and maliciously listen as the enraged woman unleashes all hell on him. Wow, that's a three-story construction, Madam Pomfrey, I respect that! Snape flees. Serves you right, asshole. But still, it's good that he's an asshole for whom teacher-student relations are abhorrent, and who clearly didn't expect anything like this. Otherwise, nothing would have worked for me. Although... I could have shown him a scene of forbidden love with Potter. No, after that he definitely would have killed me and buried me somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.