Ch 21 Secrets Part 2

Severus POV

It didn't take Severus long to find Hermione that night. It was a hectic few days and no doubt she needed a moment to unwind. It wasn't surprising that she would be hiding out in the library.

As soon as he walked into the room he could make out the back of her brown curls from behind the couch. Everyone seemed to be busy processing and that meant she had some alone time before her friends got mad at her for keeping them out of the loop for the entirety of the school year. Potter would have to go back to the Dursleys tomorrow. Which would already put him in a bad mood.

He would be hiding too if he was in her position. In a way, he was hiding. The Order seemed to have many questions most of which were either pointless or tedious. And for some reason, they were all turning to him for an answer now that it seemed as though Dumbledore was no longer in the picture.

He was planning on leaving as well. He had a few things he needed to clean up. Some possessions from Hogwarts including some research and clothes that he would need to collect now that he would be staying at Grimmauld Place. A few affairs he would need to set in order. There was really one that still needed to be done. He was in the process of correcting his will. As well as finishing a letter meant for the women in front of him, meant to be delivered after his untimely demise. He knew that it was wrong and selfish to tell her everything he wanted to in a letter. But he wasn't ready and he feared that when the time would come that he was, it would be too late and he wouldn't be able to give it to her in person. He thought about scrapping the whole idea. But she deserved to know and at the end that might be all he would be able to give her.

He didn't say anything when he approached. He just sat down on the other end of the couch. He wasn't sure if he had found her on pure luck or if he was seeking her out this evening but nonetheless the two of them were here alone.

He didn't turn to face her. He didn't want to have to look into her face until he knew exactly what he was going to say. Or else he would end up looking into her eyes and start revealing everything. But he noticed her looking at him softly out of the corner of his eye. He also noticed something was sitting in her lap though he immediately turned his gaze upwards when they started to shift down her body.

"So you aren't going back to spying," she said conversationally. As if she knew what was exactly on his mind.

"No. I can't. My cover was blown." He leaned back and closed his eyes. Yes, he may have forgotten to reveal that piece of information to the Order.

"What? When?" Hermione asked frantically. He could feel the couch dip beneath him as she shifted into a more upright position.

"After the battle at Hogwarts. Apparently, Dolohov saw me helping some of the students and incapacitating some of the other death eaters." He didn't regret his choice but he didn't realize how careless he was at being seen. He should have, it would have saved him some time and pain. "I didn't realize it until I went to the next Death Eater meeting."

He remembered feeling the pain more so than usual and he couldn't seem to block it out this time. He couldn't quite recall how he escaped. But he remembered the Dark Lord's fury. And giving him a chance in between rounds of torture to explain himself. Though he knew there was no way he could get out of this he still tried lying through his teeth and the pain. It wasn't until the Dark Lord handed him over to the other Death Eaters as punishment for betraying his fellow brothers that he was given the chance to escape.

He remembered shards of glass piercing through his skin as he jumped out of the window and flew away. Though there were many instances where he couldn't keep a steady flight and ended up crashing into several tree tops. Once he was far enough away he apparated to the only place he could think of where he knew he would be safe.

After he found himself at Grimmauld Place. He ended up collapsing on the ground. He was in too much pain to be able to crawl let alone walk. But he was able to gather enough energy and strength to prop himself up against the hallway wall. For some reason, it didn't register in his mind to call out for help. But after so many years of taking care of himself, it wasn't that much of a surprise. He leaned his head back against the wood and the hard surface gave him some form of comfort as he held onto one of the bleeding areas on his stomach. He wasn't sure if it was the worst injury but it certainly was the most painful. He wasn't sure what his plan was. If he was just going to stay there until daylight and someone found him. Or tripped over his corpse in the middle of the night. All he knew was that his role as a spy was over and he was tired.

And of course, his saving grace would be Black.

The light was shown in his face and he found himself through bleary eyes flinching at the harshness. "Snape?" Black asked once realizing that he was on the ground. No doubt he couldn't see the blood in this darkness.

"I didn't know where else to go," Severus confessed as he felt his head started to spin.

"Fuck," Sirius swore under his breath. He knelt down beside him. Severus couldn't really feel what he was doing but he had a feeling he was trying to check his wounds. "Okay hold still."

He winced as he felt Black touch his shoulder. People reacted to pain in strange ways. Severus masked his with humour. "No, I will just proceed to run away."

He could feel Black roll his eyes though they may have been wide with panic. "Your sarcasm is not necessary right now."

Oh yes, he was definitely panicking now. He also was way out of his depth. "My apologies."

"No. don't apologize." Sirius quickly corrected him. He must have been beginning to comprehend the situation Severus was in now that he actually apologized. "Fuck. You are injured. Badly."

"No shit," Severus wheezed out through a shaky breath.

"Let me get Hermione. She will know what to do." Black started to pull away but Severus grabbed his arm before he could.

"No. Don't get her. She doesn't need to see this." he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet with his injuries and she didn't need to watch him die. She didn't need to blame herself. Severus wanted to spare her from at least that much.

"Get over your damn pride."

"If I wasn't, don't you think I would be anywhere else than here." As he stated earlier he had nowhere else to go. Hogwarts would be virtually empty. And though Madame Pomphrey was still there. He would have never been able to make it up all those stairs. He would have probably died out by the gates. And no one else cared about him. The only person who did… was here.

"Okay. I have no idea what to do. You will need to walk me through this." He couldn't walk. That was why he was on the floor in the first place. Why was Black trying to make him walk right now? It didn't really matter where he died. And he was already here.

He was so tired. He could feel himself sliding down the wall. Oh, wait he was already on the ground. Why was he even here? What was the point? He wasn't going to make it anyway. He knew for a long time now that the war would kill him. And this was it. "Just kill me. I am done trying to save myself," his words slurred as he tried to make sense of his own thoughts.

"If that were the case you would have just let them kill you." He could feel the blood loss getting to him. "Okay, we're going to have to move you off the floor." Severus could feel Black's arm snake around his shoulders and arms.

"Hold on. This is probably going to hurt''. It didn't. Well, it did technically. But in a way, it was a relief. He was so close to being free. To have that second chance Hermione had talked about him having. And he wanted it so desperately. Through gritted teeth he fought through his blood, sweat, and tears as well as Black's panicking to have it.

"Were you hurt?" Even though he wasn't looking at her he could practically see her biting her lip in worry.

He was pleased to know that she cared. "No more than usual."

"How are you doing?"

"It is a relief. Not to have to constantly wonder if my true loyalties will be revealed each time the Dark Lord enters my mind," he stated dryly. As if he was reciting from a script. It felt like that was all he was doing these past few days. It made it easier than trying to decide between what he should say and what he wanted to say.

"I don't mean that. I mean how are you doing now that you don't have to constantly pretend." Pretend. Of course, that was the word she would use to describe his life.

It was true that he didn't have to pretend to be a Death Eater anymore. He didn't have to pretend that he valued blood purity and the death of innocent people. Or favourite the Slytherins. He didn't have to hype up his hatred and disdain so that others would have to feel that way about him.

But he was still pretending while sitting in front of Hermione. He still masked his expression. He was still holding back from speaking freely about what was on his mind.

"I am free. What else could I possibly need?" He lied through his teeth.

He didn't need anything but he did want something greatly. Her. He didn't want her necessarily in the traditional sense. He didn't want to physically possess her. Though the thought to rub his hands all over her body while she moaned her name did sleep into his dreams. But that wasn't what he truly wanted. He didn't desire to be physically intimate with her. Though the thought had crossed his mind. What he wanted was emotional and mental intimacy. He wished he could be honest with her but how could he when he couldn't even be truthful about what he was feeling.

He wasn't lying, it was such a huge relief for it to be over. But it didn't exactly end the way he planned to. Truthfully he never saw a life for himself once he began to spy. It was his whole life. And he never imagined that there would be a life for him once his time as a spy was over. He figured that he would die as a spy. Either for his cover being blown or simply during one of the Dark Lord's tantrums. It wasn't that he wished to die or that he was hoping to be killed. It was simply a realistic expectation. And he didn't know what to do with himself now that it was over

It was a relief not to be in constant danger, not to always be on guard and mercilessly calculating each word he ever said. He would never again be forced to watch as some innocent person was tortured and killed in front of him. And never be forced to remain silent and do nothing while it happens.

But it made him useful. It gave him a purpose. It was a way for him to be distracted from his guilt and his misery. And the simple fact that he wasn't happy with his life. He never was. Part of it was his own fault. He allowed himself to be completely consumed in his role. He also delayed any attempts at happiness using his spying as an excuse. But now there was nothing standing in his way of being happy. Besides the war. But that too will come to an end. And despite some major downfalls that will occur in the upcoming months. The war was looking favorably for their side to win.

And once that is all over. He will be left only with the same doubts and regrets in his mind that plagued him now.

And possibly the same woman still sitting distanced by six feet.

It was then he really took notice of her or rather what she was doing. She had what had to be a pint of ice cream in her lap and a single spoon. Her hair was pulled back. She tended to do it either when she was feeling overly confident or when she was tired. He was going with the latter. And considering how she wasn't even wearing shoes and had no book nearby it was clear that this was something more than just being physically exhausted with the day. He figured at first that she was just hiding out from her friends so she wouldn't be bombarded with questions. But it was possible something else was on her mind. Something that was hindering her. She didn't seem to find anything odd in what she was doing. But he was aware that she was never the type to overindulge in sweets with her parents being dentists. So her carrying that big of a tub of ice cream only meant one thing. "Why are you eating your feelings in ice cream?"

"I am not," she mumbled, after putting the spoon in her mouth.

He arched his brow. "If you weren't you would be eating out of a bowl like a civilized person."

"Did you want some?" She offered him her spoon.

"You didn't answer my question." He was aware of her attempt to deflect. And it was not working in the slightest. Though he didn't think she was putting her whole energy into it.

"You didn't answer mine. It's a mint chip." She offered him the pint this time. He willingly took it and moved it to the table next to him so it was out of her arm's reach. She pouted at the action. If it wasn't for what Severus assumed was going to be a continued serious conversation he would have found her behaviour cute. "Something you would like to share with the class. Since we are all confessing our secrets.

She leaned her head back against the cushion and sighed. "I think I have had enough confessions for one day."

"It was your idea," he pointed out.

"I know and it was the right thing to do." She said it half-heartedly as if she was trying to convince herself.

"But?" He prompted hoping she would willingly confide in him.

"I never realized how much they stacked up." He knew she was referring to all of the lies and secrets she was keeping from Potter and Weasly and the Order for that matter. Today was a big day. She had to admit that not only did she discover the Dark Lord was immortal but that she had intentionally kept it a secret to everyone except Black and him. And then proceed to work with the two of them for months behind everyone's back in order to hunt down the objects. She also ended up having to tell them due to circumstances and bad timing how she was kidnapped and tortured and again kept it a secret from everyone. But the way she still seemed weighted down made Severus think that there was more she worried about. That she still had more things buried.

"You aren't just referring to the Horcrux and Bellatrix are you."

"I wish I was." He didn't blame her for keeping secrets. Hell, he had his fair share. She was entitled to be able to keep some things to herself.

"I think I killed someone," she didn't whisper. Nor did her voice wobble. She stated it as matter of factly as she could muster. She didn't dance around the matter. She simply stated the truth. He wasn't overly surprised. He knew that in a war it was possible that she would have to make that choice or experience it accidentally. Out of everyone, he knew that she would be more willing to kill someone if logic dictates and if it was self-defence. She had the necessary skill to be able to do it. But she would never willingly kill someone unless she didn't have a choice. "I saw them go through the window. And we were on the third floor."

Well, that explains it. She wasn't sure how to process her first kill or if it even did kill someone.

She turned back to face him and asked "Have you ever?"

He knew he could have lied and pretended as if he never did but he couldn't when she looked at him. Her eyes begged him to be honest. She wasn't hoping he had killed before. She was hoping that he would be able to understand her regardless of whether or not he did or not.

"Yes," he stated simply. He never admitted it to anyone other than Dumbledore before. The Order of course always speculated but they never had any confirmation.

"How do you deal with it?" She was hoping that this would be like their occulemency lessons. Where he would give her ideas on how to protect herself and she would find what worked for her. But the truth was you never get over it. It stays with you for the rest of your life. And you either find reasons or excuses to justify it.

He knew she wasn't just asking him because of his experience. He knew that the others would judge her actions even though it was in self-defence. They were still a bunch of bleeding heart Gryffindors who thought that killing was unnecessary in a war. Even though they knew they couldn't save everyone. But he understood that sacrifices had to be made in a war. Even when that means sacrificing parts of yourself. "I still am. Some were innocent but there were those who deserved it. And some, they might not have realized it at the time but it was a blessing in disguise."

"A mercy." She didn't phrase it like a question but she said it with a softness he couldn't understand. "Does it make me a bad person that I don't feel sorry?"

"You do feel sorry." He stated firmly. "You aren't sorry that they are dead and can no longer hurt anyone. But you are sorry that you had to be the one to do it." And he was sorry too. That she had to be the one to do it. To be caught up in a war that should have ended 16 years ago. "So no, I don't think that makes you a bad person. I think it makes you human." He knew enough of being a bad person to be able to recognize one and she wasn't even close to being considered bad. She was still mostly good. Perhaps that was why he was drawn to her. She understood him without being tainted by the same darkness. He wanted to rub his eyes. Being in her presence wasn't helping.

His feelings for her hadn't gone away. Like he told her they would, back at Hogwarts. Nor did he truly think they would. He was hopeful since it would help him out of the little rut he was in. But when has anything ever been easy for him?

When he admitted his feelings for her and she did the same to him. He couldn't help but hide the relief and joy. The fact that they weren't one-sided made him feel less guilty. But still, he couldn't allow himself to feel happy and hopeful.

He knew that he could love her if he allowed himself to give in. But at the time he was still her teacher and spying. He was committing himself to so many lies that if he did begin something with her then he would have only been able to give her half of himself. And that wasn't fair to her. Or him for that matter.

But now there wasn't anything holding him back.

He wasn't her teacher and he was no longer spying. They were still in the middle of a war. But that too will eventually end. And then what. The two of them never move past this. Once the war is over they would have no reason to be in each other's company. And so they simply try to move on with their lives without each other. And he would be left always wondering what if? He didn't want that. He had enough regrets in life he didn't want to add her to the list.

Or the two of them could continue what they were currently doing; tiptoeing around each other, until someone makes a move.

Most likely him. He didn't doubt that she had the courage to start something. But she was a lot less sure of his feelings for her than he was of her feelings for him. She wouldn't start something with him unless she was absolutely sure of his feelings and he would never be able to articulate them unless they were together.

And that was pretty prominent right now.

He was so close to her. He wasn't sure if it was him or her who leaned in closer to the other. Perhaps it was the both of them. For a moment giving in to the temptation and connection drawing them nearer to one another. It would be so easy for him to kiss her. She was physically close enough that it wouldn't take too much effort on his part to simply swoop in and connect them even further. But he couldn't just act on his instincts. Not with her. He had been second-guessing every thought he had about her for the past several months and his actions were the same. He couldn't kiss her until he knew for sure if her feelings for him were the exact same as his. He couldn't kiss her until he knew for certain that it was what he wanted. And he could have easily found out. But he was too scared to.

He had so many moments or opportunities to say something. Anything. He could have told her how strong she was for not revealing any information when she was tortured. Or how brave she was in the fight at Hogwarts. He could have told her how beautiful she was when she read a book and moved a curl back behind her ear after it obscured her vision. He could have told her right now how much he valued her simply sitting there and listening to him while he spoke. For actually caring to ask. But the words never came out. Even complimenting her work was difficult for him. All of the opportunities slipped through his fingers.

He found himself pulling back from her.

In a way, it also didn't matter. Though she appeared to like and accept the parts of him she knew and saw. There was so much she didn't know about him. His past. The things he has done. Every single one of his regrets.

He still had his secrets.