As they walked through the streets of Paris, Hermione talked about various shops and statues. All in all, they walked miles over the French city.
"What place have you liked best so far?" She asked as she walked next to him.
"The Notre-Dame Cathedral," He said. "The architecture is incredible."
"It is," She said. "I have a couple places I want to show you tomorrow, too."
"I look forward to the adventure," He said smoothly.
"I know we just ate dinner, but there's this amazing ice cream cart up here," She gestured down the street a ways. "They even have strawberry."
He chuckled and walked quietly next to her down the street. He had been pretty quiet all day, but in reality, Severus was always relatively quiet. His words were always purposeful and carefully chosen.
"You're a bit quiet," She said and bumped her elbow against his. "You're okay?"
"Yes," He answered, and gave her a small smile.
They ordered their ice cream and walked toward the Eiffel Tower. "It's lovely at night. I know we can see it from our hotel room, but it's better up close."
He took a spoonful of strawberry ice cream and put it into his mouth. He watched her smile at him, and his eyes drifted to her lips. When he looked back into her eyes, his were glittering. She smirked, and they continued walking, enjoying the silence between the two of them and the ice cream. After throwing their bowls into a bin, they moved to stand and admire the Eiffel Tower against the darkening night sky.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" She looked at him.
He nodded as his eyes took in the giant tower. He glanced at her profile as she stared up at the brightly lit tower. She was smiling. The lights from the tower reflected in her eyes, and across her skin. He pulled his eyes away from her, looked back out toward the tower, and took in the scene ahead of them.
"What about you?" He asked, and she looked confused. He added, "After the war. You ended up here."
Realizing he was continuing their conversation from the morning, she nodded in understanding. "Do you want to sit?" He shrugged indifferently, so she took the lead and sat on the grass. He sat next to her. She was quiet for a couple minutes while she pondered her response. He was always so honest with her about things, and she felt she owed him honesty in return, but she feared some of her honesty might upset him.
"Well, I told you I stayed with my parents for awhile directly after the war," She said.
"Why attend a muggle university?" He asked. There was genuine curiosity in his tone. "It must have been difficult to go from using your magic whenever you wanted to concealing it."
"I struggled a lot after the war," She said. "More than I've really let on to anyone. I struggled with magic after seeing how destructive it could be. I'm not a natural fighter. I'm just not wired that way. I'm no soldier or warrior, but I fought in a war. It... changed me," She explained. "It changed everyone. Harry and Ginny got married relatively quickly. My relationship with Ron deteriorated shortly after the wedding. We were trying to make something work because being together is what everyone expected of us, but it wasn't really what either of us wanted, and we were so incompatible. When we broke up, I just... wanted to escape. There was so much attention on the three of us, and I just wanted to go some place where I wasn't known. My parents moved to France with me. They were enough."
She was very quiet for a couple minutes. He could sense her tension. He looked at her, and said, "Something else troubled you, drove you away from our world."
She nodded. She met his gaze. There was no judgement in his eyes. "I struggled with what happened to you."
He narrowed his dark eyes. "Why?"
"I saw... So many horrific things throughout the course of my time at Hogwarts, and especially during that last year," She said and looked away from him. "Watching what happened to you in the Shrieking Shack was by far the most horrific. Staying with you afterward... it was so violent. There was so much blood. When you became mostly lucid again, you were so angry with me. You were so angry you were alive. Then, Harry shared the memories with us, and I just..."
She was quiet again, and so was he. He was a little tense, but not at all defensive. He didn't press her or pry. He merely waited. Eventually, she started talking again. "I know you probably wanted people to not think about all of it, but I kept thinking about how horribly lonely your life must have been..."
He looked up at the tower. "I do not want anyone's pity."
"I wasn't pitying you," She said quickly. "I know it's your life. It all happened to you, so I have little right to have been vicariously traumatized by your experiences, with the exception of the Shack because I was there... But in a way, it was the final straw for me. That year especially had been awful, but that night... That propelled me coming here and going to muggle university. I spent a lot of time healing on my own, as you did. I didn't talk much with Harry or Ron. We all needed some time. My parents were as helpful as they could have been. When we were all finally summoned for your trial, I felt strong enough to step foot into that world again. Your trial was... difficult," She said. "It was hard to see you like that." He grimaced, and she flinched. "I am sorry. You probably just think I'm pitying you still."
"No," He said. "This is... difficult yet necessary to hear."
She looked away. "It felt so wrong to see you like that. As a teacher, you were always so strong and confident. You had your flaws, but to see you handcuffed, gaunt and pale and hollow, and so broken..." She closed her eyes. "It was a reminder that everything that had happened was real. I decided the things I had been avoiding couldn't be avoided any longer. I remained at muggle university, but I enrolled in a single class in Charms mastery. I took it class by class, a very slow pace for me, while I finished my muggle degree. After that, I enrolled full time and finished my mastery. You pretty much know the rest."
He was very still as he sat on the grass next to her. His black eyes were unmoving as they stared at the Eiffel Tower. After a few minutes, she asked, "Do you forgive me for helping to save you that night?"
His eyes snapped to her face. "What?"
"In the Hospital Wing, you were raving mad. You... Told me you would never forgive me," She said quietly.
He closed his eyes. "I have no real clear memory of anything that night after I was bitten. I do not remember saying that, but you certainly do not need forgiveness for what you did. It was noble and heroic."
"That's not why I did it," She said. "I definitely was not trying to play the hero."
"Why did you help me? At the time, I was nothing more than a traitorous Death Eater to you," He said.
"I simply couldn't leave you there like that without trying to help," She said. "It was mostly instinct, and I felt this... compulsion inside, something nagging me, telling me that something was... off with you."
"You mean, besides the gaping wounds in my throat?"
She said, "Like I said to that idiot officiant, you've saved my life many times, mostly because I was with Harry. It just didn't... add up. I never thought it did. When you killed Professor Dumbledore," She said and he flinched. "It felt too clearly evil - flashing neon lights evil. Everything else that I knew about you was usually so gray - you were at Order meetings, and you were at Death Eater meetings. You were always saving us, and you were also an absolute bastard to us. That - killing him - was very black and white. Murder was cookie cutter evil."
"Albus is probably rolling in his grave realizing that his plan seemed too obvious to a 6th year," He mumbled.
"They do say I'm the brightest witch of my age," She said slyly. "It's not like I really worked anything out anyway."
He looked at her as she leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the tower. Suddenly, he was overcome with an urge to kiss her. He swallowed hard. His hands began to sweat. He had never really wanted to spontaneously just kiss her yet. Mostly, it had been pure sexual desire and curiosity. He pulled his eyes away from her face and looked in the opposite direction. Despite her analysis of his life, he preferred things to be black and white, and whatever that urge to kiss her meant, it felt very much like gray. He liked that she liked him, but he was not ready to consider returning such an acknowledgement, or feeling such a sentiment. Closing his eyes, he pulled some of his shields into place. They'd be busy soon enough with school and helping Draco and Astoria. The distractions would be most welcome.