A/N: Still not mine!

"Auror Granger." Her voice was as hard as her eyes. Snape crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair slightly, watching her all the while. Her brown eyes were steady as they met his, and although she was clearly angry, that anger was well enough controlled for him to assume the worst.

"You are here to kill me."

"No." She shook her head, curls dancing briefly in the firelight. "I came to deliver a message. That is exactly what I have done. If you were hoping to find a quick and painless death at my hands then you are sadly mistaken."

"Why did they send you?" His expression shifted into one of suspicious dread.

"I was not sent." She frowned.

"Are you not an Auror?"

Hermione ripped her auror insignia from the front of her robes and slammed it down on the table right in front of him with a dull thud.

"I am everything that I appear to be, Snape," she spat at him. "Unsurprisingly, none of my colleagues were eager to come and visit you…especially considering the nature of the message and your volatile nature! I volunteered."

"Why?" He was studying her intensely, not appearing to have heard the insults that she had angrily thrown in his direction. "Of all people, why you?"

She shrugged.

"There was no one else and I was…curious."

"First visit to Azkaban?" He sneered.

"Actually yes, but I was more curious about you."

"Me? I am not an exhibit from one of your muggle zoos!"

"No, you're one of the only inmates of a wizarding prison! That hardly makes you any better, Professor!"

He fell silent at that, but continued to stare at her with undisguised hostility. Hermione glanced down at her watch.

"I haven't much time," she murmured, almost to herself, "I was supposed to deliver the message and then return to the Ministry immediately…"

"I would prefer it if you did not address me as 'Professor', Auror Granger," Snape said quietly. She looked back up at him and saw what she thought might have been the tiniest hint of regret in his cold eyes. "It has been a…long time since I held that particular office."

"I apologise," she said stiffly, retrieving her insignia from where it lay and rising to her feet once more, trying not to wince as the legs of her chair scraped noisily against the rough stone floor. The realisation that she had seen Severus Snape for the first time in seven years was accompanied by the uncomfortable truth that once she had left the small room they were standing in she would never see him again…be it in seven years or even seven days. It was an uncomfortable thought, and one that she tried unsuccessfully to push away.

In the days proceeding that terrible night atop the astronomy tower at Hogwarts, Hermione had tried, and largely succeeded in pushing all thoughts of Snape aside. Not thinking him worthy of any of her attention she had felt a surge brief, fierce anger followed by relief when he had been captured by the Order in the final days of the war. He had chosen not to present a defence at his trial, such as it was, and had been sentenced to a life term accordingly. He had never even spoken during his trial (a trial she had been present at), she remembered now, except to speak his name and to declare that he was 'guilty'.

She could not imagine how he must feel, now, to be sentenced to death after such a long time locked away from the world, would it make any difference to him at all?

In the years following his imprisonment she had barely spared her former Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor a thought until the previous month when the Death Decree had been passed. The task of telling Severus Snape that he was to be executed had pushed the man to the forefront of her mind for the first time in many years.

And now, it was impossible for her to explain why she should feel equal measures of anger and pity towards the man responsible for such shocking and damnable actions. Seeing him again had been a bigger shock to her system than she had anticipated. But it could not be helped; it was too late now.

"I really must go…" Stopping in front of the closed door she realised that she had not moved or spoken in many minutes, and then she steeled herself for what she had left to say. "You should expect another Auror's visit as soon as a date is decided for your…"

She could not finish the sentence past the lump in her throat, and she could not look back at Snape. There seemed nothing more to say - there was certainly nothing more that could be done - and she had stretched out a hand to grasp the heavy iron ring on the door to open it and make her exit when –

"Wait."

She did not move away from the door. Couldn't. The scrape of another chair on stone told her that Snape too, was on his feet. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she felt him step into her personal space. Slowly, reluctantly, she turned to look at him.

"Wait." He repeated, hoarsely, and this time there was something in his face, a desperation, a terrible grief not entirely for himself, that made her realise it would be foolish to leave. The trouble she might encounter at the Ministry could wait, for now.

He must have seen the acquiescence in her face, because his own immediately closed up again, returning to the stony mask she was familiar with. Wordlessly, she gestured back to the chairs. They sat, facing each other, for several long moments of silence.

"What I am about to tell you…I have never spoken to another, Miss Granger."

Hermione did not bother to correct his calling her 'Miss Granger', even though it rankled with her slightly. She nodded to him once, jerkily.

"I have no interest in whether you believe my story or not. At this time I only wish to retell it to you."

"Why?"

Snape smiled a horrible parody of a smile, which contained no happiness.

"Would it surprise you to know that being executed is not the way that I would choose to die?"

"Of course not."

"Would it surprise you to know that, given the choice, and despite the things I have said to you today, I would rather not die at all?"

"No," she said patiently. "But if you commit a crime you cannot expect to choose your punishment!"

He stared at her hard, and unblinking. Understanding came quickly.

"You think that by telling me what really happened that night you're going to be acquitted in some way?" Hermione breathed. "That doesn't make sense! You've been here for seven years, Severus! Why didn't you speak of this at your trial?"

"Seven years ago they were not going to kill me, Hermione!" Snape said sharply. "Seven years in here is punishment enough." He was breathing hard through his nose, and the sound wheezed around the room.

"Punishment enough for…what?"

"For killing a man who wanted to die, Miss Granger. Only that. It was not in cold blood. It was not unprovoked. It was just…" He placed his head into his hands and screwed his fingers into his hair. "It was a situation that could not be redeemed because you see, I had no other option. I condemned myself because I had no choice!"

TBC…

A/N 2: Expect further revelations in chapter five (which I haven't written yet!) and a possible shot at redemption for Severus.