A/N: Hello all. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and a massive thank you to my guest reviewers who I can't reply to personally. A couple of notes before we start this chapter in case people aren't aware of some of the things discussed.

I reference a compulsory purchase order in the chapter. Legally in the UK, a council may issue a compulsory purchase order to force you to sell them your house (usually at below the market rate) to make way for new development. This is usually applied when the buildings are no longer fit for purpose. They can be fought through the courts but not everyone chooses to. This is a simplified explanation purely for the purpose of the story.

I also reference the poet Philip Larkin in this chapter; the full work referred to is called 'This Be The Verse' and I claim no ownership of his lines.

Lastly there are references here to spousal and child abuse so please be warned if you are sensitive to any issues there. Also there is reference to a minor character death. I suggest you stop reading after they have had dinner if you do not wish to read the passage. xx

Confession

Hermione looked across the kitchen table at Severus, his countenance far more grim than she had ever seen him even in the darkest time at Hogwarts. One of his hands rested in hers, his grip the only thing to let her know that he was still aware she was with him. His other hand rested over the letter, his fingers poised as though unsure whether to strike it or reduce it to ashes with his magic.

She wasn't sure how long they had sat in silence in the little kitchen. It was long enough to have memorised the number of ceiling and floor tiles along with the number of cracks in the wood of the drawer nearest to her. It was a sorry looking room, tired and outdated, but she knew there were many emotions written into the scars of the room.

"I suppose I will have to make arrangements and soon," said Severus, his voice cutting through the silence. "I will have to work out how one goes about acquiring lodgings."

"We could fight it," said Hermione. "I'm sure there is a solicitor already working on the case for others on the street and…"

"Hermione," said Severus, cutting her off. "Any attempt might delay things for a short while but this is inevitable and I have already fought enough battles. I must cut any losses and start again."

"But this is your home," said Hermione. "They don't have the right to tell you to leave and for so little compensation."

Severus shook his head, "It's a compulsory purchase order. They have the legal right to do as they wish," he said, his hand leaving the letter to rub wearily across his eyes. "To be honest with you I'm surprised it didn't come sooner. These are worker's cottages, built years ago to house the people employed at the cotton mill. That closed forty years ago, when I was two years old. Leaving every family along this street on the welfare and in need of work. Work that was never given to people who lived in these parts. Year after year, this entire neighbourhood has fallen into disrepair and people have left. Now the houses are condemned to be bulldozed and rebuilt and I can't say that I blame them. I am shocked and a little concerned how I will manage everything but I can't say I'll be sorry to leave this place."

"You're not upset about leaving?" asked Hermione.

Severus shook his head, "This house is falling apart around me and I can't even be bothered to use magic to set it right," he said. "I've known very little joy here and there are so many bad memories I'd like to leave behind. My only concern is that this and Hogwarts is all I've ever known. I have no significant income and the money I will get from the house, as you've seen, will be minimal. I had intended to try to expand my business but I fear any property I can afford will be too small to accommodate working at more than one cauldron at a time. It is what it is and I must be practical. It will be strange to leave though, I've never…"

"It's your home," said Hermione, covering their joined hands with her free one. "Even with the bad memories it contains. You've lived here all your life."

Severus finally met her gaze, a look halfway between confusion and amazement on his face. "You see right through me; it's uncanny," he said. "I would accuse you of using Legilimency if it were possible for such a skill to be used on me. I hate this house but I love it too. For all the bad memories, there was the occasional good one, too. Maybe they were never perfect moments but there were triumphs and brief interludes of joy. I feel as though I'll leave them in cracked tiles and the peeling wallpaper."

"I wish I could understand how you feel," said Hermione. "But I moved four times before I went to Hogwarts so there's not really any house that holds so much for me. I'll help however I can to make this move easier for you."

"At least there's only me to worry about," said Severus. "There are no other claims on the house."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I didn't want to ask but I made the assumption that your parents were…"

"Dead. Yes," said Severus, matter-of-factly. "My father died when I was fifteen and my mother five years ago, though I hadn't seen her since I was twenty-one. By then she was thoroughly ashamed of me."

"Oh Severus," said Hermione but she couldn't find any words to continue, knowing there was little she could say to comfort him for his past mistakes.

"I'm sorry," he said, forcing a smile. "You didn't come here to listen to me be maudlin and lament over what was. My past is what it is and I cannot change it. What I can change is my future, so let's focus on that."

"If that's what you want," said Hermione. "And seeing as it nearly six o'clock let's start with dinner. If you don't mind me staying I could send a message to Hogwarts. The elves always make far too much food and Minerva would not mind if they brought some here."

"You are always welcome here, though I cannot promise I will be the best company," he warned as Hermione released his hand and got to her feet.

"I'm sure I can manage if you choose to be a bit grumpy," said Hermione, as she moved to beside his chair and bent to press a kiss to his cheek. "May I use the floo to call Hogwarts?"

"Be my guest," he said, his smile far more genuine then it had been before. She gently squeezed his shoulder as she headed towards the living room.

It wasn't long until she returned ,followed soon after by two of the elves he recognised from the kitchens, both of them bearing far more food than he was sure had ever graced his meagre kitchen table before. It was soon set before them and the house elves took their leave, both of them somewhat wary of Severus but at ease with Hermione. They spoke of housing options as they ate, weighing up the choice between muggle or wizarding communities but it didn't take them long to agree, despite the limitations it presented, that the muggle world would be safer for Severus.

They retired to the living room once dinner was finished, settling side by side on the small sofa as they fell into a comfortable silence. The rain had begun to fall outside, hammering against the single glazed windows. However, any chill was chased away by the fire and several warming charms. Hermione wasn't sure when she let her head fall onto Severus' shoulder or when his arm had moved around her back to rest at her waist, but neither of them felt the need to speak of it. They were content merely in the quiet and the peace of the late evening.

"I killed my father," said Severus, his words breaking the silence and taking a moment to register in Hermione's mind.

"What?" she asked, every muscle in her body stiffening.

"Not directly," said Severus, his voice hollow. "But I'm the reason he's dead."

"You said he died when you were fifteen?" asked Hermione. "You were only a boy."

"That was the day I realised I had to be a man," said Severus grimly. "I came home for the Christmas holidays. No one met me at Kings Cross and I had to get the Knight Bus back home. I arrived to find the door almost off its hinges and my mother sat in this room, her eye blackened and her wrist dislocated. My father was drunk which wasn't unusual but he was in a particular violent rage that night. When he saw me trying to help my mother he went for me. I can't remember hitting him but one minute he was up and the next he was on the carpet. He left that night. Three days later, they pulled him out of the river. The autopsy couldn't say what killed him but my mother blamed me. Despite all she had suffered at his hands, she loved him and she blamed me for his death. Don't think she ever looked at me with affection after that day."

"They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do," quoted Hermione, her voice quiet though she knew he heard her.

"Larkin," said Severus. "I always thought that poem rather apt."

Hermione brushed the tears from her eyes as she heard the catch in his voice, "I'm so sorry Severus but you mustn't blame yourself," she said. "There were so many things that could have killed him; for all you know he did it himself. You were a frightened child and you defended yourself. If there is one memory you must leave behind in this house then it is that one. Promise me Severus."

"I will try," he promised, his lips moving the curls on her head as he spoke into her hair. "I've never told anyone that story before."

"Never feel like you must hide anything," said Hermione. "I won't judge you and I won't run away. You're stuck with me."

Severus was silent for a moment, his hand at her waist moving to her shoulder to press her a little closer to his side. "I'm glad," he said quietly, the two of them falling silent once more as the rain continued to fall outside.