Green Light.

Six.

Green Light.

Seven.

It got easier by the attempt.

"Is this how it felt, Snape?" She snarled out loud, "Vengeance? For all the times he used you?"

Not for the first time that night, she screamed "Avada Kedavra!" and watched the light leave the eyes of another hapless creature.

If the wards were down at because of One of the casters' death, the ministry should have been here by now.

Too late, as always.

The whispering was getting louder with each curse she cast. Carcasses lay in a pile, growing every few minutes.

Hermione thought about Snape, and then killed.

She knew it was going to be ten times as hard to face it tomorrow, but it didn't bother her. She felt that perhaps if she tried hard enough, she could mask one sorrow with another.

"I trusted you," she whispered, "I loved you, and trusted you."

"I was hoping that was true."

Hermione spun around so quickly that it was only a year of training that kept her steady, a curse waiting on her lips.

"You have all the nerve to show up here, you bastard. Come to kill me as well, have you?"

Snape flinched as if slapped, and Hermione felt a small triumph.

"No, Hermione, I'm here to give you answers. I know you have many questions."

"And what makes you so sure I would not kill you after you have answered them?"

"I'm not," he said softly, and Hermione had to fight the urge to let down her wand. This was Dumbledore's murderer. He had fooled everyone for far too long.

"I only hope that you won't kill me. Or perhaps I do," Snape still hadn't drawn his wand, not that he needed it very much, "I have little left, but hope."

"You deserve no mercy! How could you? He was like a father to you!"

"Don't you think it kills me inside that I had to do it?"

"You wanted to... " she whispered, and let her wand down. She was too tired to fight. If he wanted to kill her, she couldn't care less at this moment.

"Hermione..." he sounded closer, and she raised teary eyes to him.

"I loved you, and trusted you," she said, her voice nearly failing her, "and this is how you return it? I wanted to carve my heart out with how much it hurt. I nearly did."

"I'm tired, Snape," she spoke wearily, "of this whole bloody mess. It is taking everything out of me. And you..."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, "were all that was keeping me sane. I'm not sure anymore."

"I know," he approached her, slowly.

"Why?" She beat his chest and pushed at him, she couldn't give in to this cold blooded murderer.

"Because I had to," he held her arms and let her scratch at whatever skin she could reach. This small pain was enough to take the edge off of the infinite guilt and despair that was threatening to take over him.

Soon, she slowed her arms and fell limply into his. He held her there, precious and fragile, hoping he wouldn't break her.

"He made me do it," he whispered into her hair, and she stiffened. He stopped her from pulling away.

"Please, hear me out," he said, and held her tightly. For a moment it seemed she was going to break away, but she stilled and spoke into his chest.

"Be warned that I will not believe a word you say."

"I'm glad you are cautious," he inhaled her scent, "But I promised you once that I will never lie to you, and I won't start now."

"And you are so big on your promises," she scoffed, and pushed him away. He didn't stop her this time.

"I will never lie to you."

"Whatever," she pointed her wand at him and smiled coldly, "I'm going to kill you now, Snape. I deserve this for my foolishness."

"It would undo years of planning by Albus," he spoke tiredly, "but do as you wish. I cannot seem to care anymore. I will be dead sooner, or later, and I would prefer it at your hand. It would serve as my final punishment."

Snape ran a tired hand over his face, "I killed for him, now I will die for him."

"Don't you dare talk about Dumbledore! You don't deserve to speak about him!"

"I do not deserve a great many things," he snarled at her, "and I have given far too much for the sake of his grand scheme. I have paid my debt ten times over and yet I am bound. I, for one, would be happy to roll over and die with what little dignity I have left!"

"Liar!" she screamed and Snape winced as a deep gash opened up on his arm.

"I am many things," Snape gasped, "but I am no liar to you."

Hermione laughed then, and Snape fell to the ground, writhing in pain. She had grown better at this, he thought, and then screamed as more gashes opened up on his arms and chest and legs.

"Please," he gasped and begged, while she stood over him, dispassionately torturing him.

"Was that how Dumbledore begged Snape? Did he beg you? Was it good to sneer at him and kill him? Helpless and unarmed and in a great deal of pain? Did it soothe your ego to have the greatest wizard on Earth beg for mercy?"

"No," he gasped, as she let him free of the curse. He still bled.

"No?" she seemed amused, "Harry said he had begged you, you son of a bitch, and you paid no mercy. Why should I?"

"You shouldn't," he rasped out, "I deserve no mercy."

Their eyes met, and he held her glare with one of his own.

"See for yourself," he breathed out and pushed all the memories to the forefront. Hermione seemed shocked for a moment, but then the glint returned, and she was no gentler than the Dark Lord himself. She ripped and clawed through them, searching for what she wanted, like an angry tigress with her prey.

Snape screamed, but Hermione didn't hear him. She was too engrossed in seeing what he had to offer, testing the threads for weaving, examining each one till she was satisfied of its authenticity.

Snape couldn't tolerate the pain anymore; he gave in to blessed oblivion.