There was something troubling Rosie. Severus and Rosie had now been together for a week and a half (a short time by even Rosie's standards), they had celebrated Christmas together with a few of Rosie's friends; Morven, Sieg and Roy – neither of them had anywhere else to go.
Severus didn't seem bothered about meeting Rosie's friends; in fact he got on with them. He cooked a magnificent meal, complete with stuffing, bread sauce and the lovely turkey. Severus was of course on the defensive but then again he hadn't made a fuss or complained to Rosie before hand.
However, since the day that Rosie and Severus had first made love, Severus had been very closed with her. It wasn't like he didn't talk to her, there was just something different. He seemed distant, cold, unconcerned. He wouldn't let her hold him for long and he didn't stay in bed in the morning, by seven o'clock he'd be up and about. He'd offer to make the breakfast and then he'd go out for a while (walking, he told her) and come back just as sullen and stony-faced as before.
He spent hours in his study claiming that he had students' papers to mark, but Rosie was sure that he could have spread the load slightly more if he'd wanted to – if indeed there students essays to grade. She was adamant that there was something bothering him. Rosie didn't know what it was, whether it was something that she'd done or whether it was his own personal problem, but she had to find out somehow.
But then every time she asked him whether he was all right, whether there was anything that he needed to tell her he would clam up. He'd look at her for a while but then he would shake his head and kiss her and make some excuse to get away from her.
He was also very touchy about getting dressed or even making love. He didn't seem to like being exposed to Rosie in the way he didn't seem to mind the first time they had slept together. He wasn't entirely relaxed; he didn't seem nearly as intent on the sensations as he should be. Rosie thought that it might be a form of stress, he rarely took his clothes off in her presence as if the idea of exposing himself openly was a horror to him. Rosie wondered whether he actually wanted to be open with her at all.
Severus meanwhile was in a terrible state. He was a coward, he knew it, but he couldn't change it. He couldn't make himself tell Rosie about his past as much as he wanted to.
He knew that he was becoming irritable with her and withdrawn from the world but he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't tell her because he was afraid of losing her for good.
He also found it hard to be intimate with her because he knew that it was the last thing she'd want to do once she found out everything. He did of course give in to Rosie in the end, he would sleep with her or hold her hand or lie next to her by the fire but he was not comfortable with it. He was paranoid when he was unclothed and not because of his appearance. Severus was terrified that she might see his Mark on his arm. He wanted to tell her, not have her find out in that sort of way, Severus didn't think he could take it.
Yet Rosie had noticed his change. She kept asking him whether he was feeling well or if there was anything he wanted to share. He had tried to tell her but he simply couldn't. His mouth would open but no words would come out.
He was trapped in a nightmare. A catch 22 situation. If he told Rosie that he had been a murderous Death Eater then he would lose her for good. Yet, by not telling her the truth, keeping all the secrets from her, he was losing her anyway. She was beginning to give up touching him because she knew he would withdraw, she didn't come looking for him when he went into his study because she knew he would tell her to close the door behind her.
Severus had to tell her. He had to do it. Now. 'Right then, Severus,' he prompted himself. 'Go on, tell her.' He didn't move; he couldn't force himself to.
But he had to. Then on the 27th of December he decided that enough was enough. He led her into the lounge after dinner and sat her down, his pulse racing and his skin damp with perspiration.
"Sit down Rosie. I need to tell you something." Rosie looked at his curiously but he shook his head and gestured for her to sit next to him on the sofa.
Rosie careful sat down next to him and watched him intently. There was definitely something on his mind; she had seen it all week. He seemed distracted and even more irritable than usual. However whatever was on his mind was apparently too hard to put into words. He was sitting hunched, making himself look as small as possible. His head was bowed and his dark hair was falling down in front of his face, obstructing it from view.
"I-I don't-" he began, but then he stopped and shook his head. He turned his face upwards but his eyes would not meet Rosie's.
Rosie was shocked. Severus seemed incredibly distressed – she has never seen him this way. In an effort to soften him she brought out her hand and grasped his, but instead of comforting him he seemed to tense up, to withdraw even more from her. He pulled his hand out of Rosie's reach and sighed heavily. When he spoke Rosie was surprised to hear that his voice was slightly gruff as though his throat was constricted.
"I – I'm glad you're here – with me," he said finally internally cursing himself. His words sounded so absurd and inarticulate.
Rosie laughed with relief – that was it? She thought he was going to tell her something earth shattering. But Severus shook his head violently.
"No, don't laugh-"
"I wasn't laughing at you, love," Rosie said placatingly but it seemed to aggravate Severus even more than he already was.
"Stop it!" he cried, jumping to his feet. "Just shut up and listen to me – don't interrupt, this is hard enough-" he sat down and seemed slightly ashamed.
"Please, promise me that whatever I say you will let me finish. That you won't leave before I am done. I don't expect you to stay with me once I have told you everything – but I want you to know that I care for you. Very much. And that will never change."
"I promise," Rosie whispered.
He sighed sadly, so deeply that it almost sounded like a sob. When he spoke his voice was constricted again.
"W-when I was younger, I-I did something…foolish. It doesn't give me an excuse mind!" he said suddenly as though angry for not berating himself. But then he steadied himself and started again. "I was sorted into Slytherin and was surrounded by all these people who knew all about the Dark Arts. Their families were involved with them. I was always fascinated by them, and my father," he shivered. "My father liked the Arts too. I'm going off the subject, sorry." He looked up at the ceiling and blinked back tears.
"When I was eighteen I left school not knowing what I wanted to do or what I wanted to be. I don't think I really knew who I was. They asked me and I joined." He buried his face in his hands after this ambiguous statement.
"Who's they?" Rosie asked.
"Avery, Lestrange, Rosier…all my Slytherin friends," he spat out the last word bitterly.
"What did you join?"
Severus paused and glanced at Rosie, fear etched in ever line of his face, like he was waiting for the apocalypse. Then he turned from her and stared into middle distance.
"What did you join?" she asked again.
"The Death Eaters."
A stunned silence started after these words were uttered. Rosie stared in disbelief, her mouth agape. Severus turned and faced Rosie in panic.
"Rosie, I-I promise-" he began but Rosie cut him off.
"You – you," Rosie choked out, unable to think of a word to describe him. "You utter bastard! How could you do that!" Rosie shouted, leaping to her feet.
Severus stood up too. "I told you, I warned you. But I am truly sorry for what-"
"YOU'RE SORRY! OH, SO THAT MAKES IT BETTER! YOU KILLED PEOPLE SEVERUS! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?" Rosie was screaming at him, livid. "HOW CAN YOU JUST SIT THE-HOW CAN YOU WORRY ABOUT WHAT I'M GOING TO SAY WHEN YOU TORTURED AND KILLED AND-AND… RAPED PROBABLY!"
"No, Rosie, I didn't-"
"No, you were right Severus. I don't, I can't stay with someone like you. I loved you! How could you do this to me?"
"I didn't do it to hurt you, I did it before I knew you!"
"I'm leaving. I can't stay here." Severus didn't move or try to stop her. He knew that he had blown it, he knew it was his fault. Why didn't he tell her earlier? Then she wouldn't have slept with a murderer.
Rosie flew out of the door, slamming it behind her. Severus knew she'd be back soon – she would need her belongings. For a moment Severus stood, too stunned to move. But then he sank to the floor and all the grief and guilt washed through him as his body was wracked with spasmodic sobs.
A/N: Who knows who actually reads this story, but if it's you, thank you for taking the time to do so. If you've read, you must have an opinion, so why not share it?
