Disclaimer and such:

In which Severus and Allosia begin their first big confrontation. Angst and ugliness.

As usual, he's not mine (pity that), but she is. Constructive and/or positive feedback welcome.

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Allosia felt like she was walking to her execution. It didn't help that the halls struck her as both unnaturally quiet and unnaturally cold. She felt her heart reverberating in her chest and couldn't help muttering aloud to herself.

Severus had been polite about the invitation at least, and she sensed she was as obligated to say yes as he had been to ask her. Coffee, in his rooms and here they were both adults, and all she could do was try to prepare herself for being told she was worthless for the next two hours.

She knocked tentatively, and then took a step back from the door. He opened it wide, smiled, but wouldn't look directly at her, and motioned for her to come in. As he closed the door, she couldn't help but glance quickly around the room, trying to get a sense of the man he was now. Simple, solitary, probably far more brilliant than she had let herself realize when she was younger. While it was clear he didn't like himself, she was starting to understand just how much he did amuse himself. How could he not?

"I -" he paused. "Thank you for coming."

Allosia nodded.

"Do you want to sit down?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet, thanks." Allosia looked at the ground.

Snape turned his back to her and began to pace. "I heard about your class the other day."

"I know, you already mentioned it."

"Crabbe told me what you said."

"It wasn't meant as an insult."

"But do you really believe that?"

"Severus, look at your life."

"Don't you remember me from when we were students? I'm not much different. Neither, I suppose are you."

"What's that supposed to mean."

"You don't know how to keep your counsel. You shouldn't be talking about other professors in class."

"I wasn't."

"Don't be disingenuous."

"Must you act like this?"

"Must you always insist on having the impossible?"

"Don't do this." Allosia pressed her hand to her face. Suddenly, he grabbed her and slammed her into the wall, kissing her hard on the mouth. Allosia managed to push him away and then slapped him as hard as she could with her left hand. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She yelled.

They stood there for a moment staring at each other. Her hand still raised, his mouth open with shock. She then found herself sliding down against the wall and crying, repeating, "what the fuck is wrong with you" over and over.

"Oh, god. I'm sorry." He began to pace.

"Severus? I don't belong to you anymore. You know that, right?"

"I just though -"

"You just didn't."

"I don't want you to be scared of me." He ran his hand through his hair and heard her gasp. It took him a second to realize the gesture had pushed his robe up past his elbow, revealing the Death Eater brand he had had there since shortly after leaving Hogwarts. He looked from it to Allosia.

"Did it hurt?"

"Allosia, you don't want me to talk about this."

"Did it hurt?" she asked again, more urgently, suddenly distracted from her tears.

He looked down at the mark again and took a deep breath. "Yes, it hurt, a lot, more than anything I've ever experienced." He paused and swallowed. "And I enjoyed it, Allosia. It was and it remains, the most perfectly necessary sensation of my entire life. That's the punchline of all of it of course, that I needed it so much, that I was in fear of him, of Voldemort, of the pain and yet also addicted to it and to the possibility of what I thought we would all become." He began pacing again. "You've burned yourself, you've felt the Cruciatus, now imagine both, all the way to the bone, as an oath."

"You can't remove it can you?"

"No, but I wouldn't want to."

"You still feel it, don't you?"

"Yes, but that's not why."

"And you're really not with them anymore?"

"I'm really not with them anymore. Allosia -"

"When?"

"When what?" He was starting to get annoyed again.

"When did it begin, how long did it take you to earn that?" She was practically spitting.

"Please don't ask me these things."

"Tell me."

"I'm going to sit down now, may I offer you a seat or would you like to stay there on the floor?" He offered a hand to her, and she took it, climbing off the floor. He gestured to a large green chair and she climbed into it, pulling her knees up like a child. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Promise you won't throw it at me?"

"Yes, I promise." She almost smiled then, and it seemed to mean everything.