AN: I won't be able to post tomorrow due to some meetings. Still, thank you for the support! It is deeply appreciated!

Neither of them spoke about Hermione's Wednesday dinner date with Dr. Marsh.

Severus did not want to imagine Hermione riveted by a Hufflepuff's latest experiment. His glow turned blue at the thought of their lips coming closer together, much as his and hers had yesterday. It was difficult enough to think of an afterlife without her. He did not need to think of her in the arms of another man while he sat alone on some cloud staring into the sun.

Hermione did not want to imagine herself struggling to focus on her Dr. Marsh's story. Her stomach churned at the thought of his lips drawing closer to hers, much as hers had with Severus yesterday. It was difficult enough to think of spending her earthly life without her former potions professor. She did not want to imagine herself in the arms of a man for whom she felt only friendship.

She slid the chicken from the pan onto her plate of steaming rice and cashews. After pouring a glass of Chardonnay, she strolled to the kitchen table.

"Are you planning to give your father the potion soon?" Severus took his usual place across from her.

"I want to wait a week, just to make sure there are no unforeseen side effects," she sat.

"If there were serious side effects I think they'd show up by now."

"I know."

"So where does this fear originate? Do you have no confidence in yourself?"

"I am much more confident than I've ever been in myself. Still, I'm giving this potion to my dad. If something were to happen to him…" She stared at her food.

"I suppose if your father was injured it would weigh on your conscience."

"I would never forgive myself if my potion killed him before his heart problem did," her voice was barley audible.

"There is no need to blame yourself. It would not be your fault if something happened," he replied "You took all the necessary precautions to ensure its potency. It was ruled safe by a panel of potions experts. There is nothing further you can do."

"I know." She sprinkled soy sauce onto her plate. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to my dad though."

"You would find a way to survive."

"Not if it was my fault he died."

"He would not blame you for his death." His voice was that of a professional speaking to a colleague.

"I know, but I don't know how I could live with the guilt and the pain." Her stomach knotted.

"There would be no reason to feel either."

"I know, but I would."

"If he were here he would tell you the same think. He would go so far as to tell you that he does not want you to commit suicide over his demise, should it happen."

"No, he wouldn't blame me, but how could I look at my mum?"

"You would find a way." His tone was still neutral.

She glared at him.

"What?" His glow dimmed.

"Nothing, you're just being very clinical about all of this."

"What else do you want me to say?" Severus argued. "I am telling you how I view the situation."

"I know you are but…" She took a bite.

"But what?"

"This chicken is good." The smile didn't reach her eyes.

"I am happy to hear it, but you're changing the subject," he replied. "What am I doing that's upsetting you?"

She continued to eat.

"Don't give me the silent treatment. Something is bothering you. Unless it gets resolved we're going to spend all night dancing around each other until one of us hits a nerve and we are at each other's throats."

"Fine." She put her fork down. "You are acting like my potions professor instead of my friend."

"That shouldn't be surprising given that I was your potions professor."

"Yes, but I like my friend more than I like my potions professor."

"I am both though."

"Yes, but you don't need to act so much like a potions professor." Her frown deepened.

"How is telling you your father wouldn't want you to kill yourself acting like a potions professor?"

"It's not exactly what you're saying, but how you're saying it." She took a sip of wine. "You sound almost callous with how emotionally detached you are from all of this."

"I apologize if I'm coming off as callous, but I am only relaying facts." He emphasized the last word.

"This is about more than facts though. This is about my father."

"What do you want me to say?" Severus' glow turned red. "I told you that your potion is safe and that he would want you to thrive if something were to happen to him. How is that callous?"

"You're speaking about him as if he's just another patient," she argued.

"I know he's not another patient. He's your father."

"Then please speak about him as if he's someone worth caring about and not another test subject."

"How would I do that?"

"I don't know." Hermione shook her head and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm being stupid about this whole thing, and I'm ruining our evening."

"No," Severus' glow was a light blue. "You are perceptive as always."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The reason I sound so clinical is because I cannot relate to your predicament," he admitted.

"How? You've been through these trials and tests. Didn't you worry about the safety of your potions at all?"

"Of course I did, but" his voice softened. "I never tested my potion on anyone I loved."

"I guess you didn't need to," she admitted. "Nobody you loved had any need of one of your potions."

"Lily died before anything I created could've helped her. She was the only one for whom I felt any affection."

"What about your parents?"

Severus turned towards the window. Outside the snow wafted in the air, accumulating on the foggy windowsill.

"I suppose if they were healthy you never needed to use a potion on them."

"The issue isn't administering a potion. The issue is I don't know if I loved them."

Hermione dropped her fork.

"That sounds so harsh." He kept his eyes on the snow. "But looking back, I don't know if I loved them."

"Oh."

"You must think I'm a monster."

"No, I think I understand where you're coming from."

He turned to her, searching for any sign of deception. Instead he saw compassion in her eyes that he had never found elsewhere.

"I saw the memories," she began. "I know that gives you no comfort, but I saw how your father treated you. Knowing what I do, I can understand why you feel as you did."

"I only showed you the memories I could tolerate anyone seeing."

She swallowed.

"I do not know your father, but seems quite kind and loving. He seems to be everything my father was not."

She took a deep breath.

"When my father wasn't drunk he was sleeping or screaming. He fought with my mother constantly. It, was not always simply verbal."

She scooted closer to him.

"One of the reasons I spent so much time outside is because he was constantly berating me. He called me a 'freak,' a 'poor excuse for a son,' and 'the worst mistake of my life."

"Oh Merlin," she whispered.

"My mother rarely stood up for me. When I was younger she tried, but then he'd turn his wrath on her. After awhile she stopped trying."

"Oh."

"As I grew older, she began to ignore me, or look at me as if I was preventing her from having the life she always wanted. When my parents died in a car accident I was almost relieved. I could finally live on my own without interacting with them. I could take the house and enjoy the silence." His glow was a dark blue. "I was twenty, and already heartless."

"No, you were feeling a human emotion," she replied.

"I didn't even miss them. Even today, I don't miss them. I didn't even ask Dismas what happened to them. I asked him about Lily, Remus, and even James. Not once did it cross my mind to ask him about my parents."

"Do you want to ask him about them now?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "Part of me doesn't care what happened to them. Another part of me thinks I should care. Most of me is just afraid of his answer."

"Why?"

"If they are in Purgatory they have yet to apologize to me for the injury they've caused. It seems that reconciliation cannot happen if they do not at least acknowledge they hurt me. If they were straight shots into heaven then the divine order is more unjust than I thought. If they are damned though." His glow pulsated. "I am afraid of how I would react."

"Let's say they are in hell," Hermione replied. "Let's say they are in the pool of wrath clawing at each other to stay inside. What would you say to them?"

"I don't know."

"Do you not know, or do you not want to tell me?"

"Both."

"Okay." She picked up her fork again.

Silence fell between them.

"I'd ask why they didn't love me." His voice was barley audible.

She set her fork down again.

"Why was I not good enough for them? What about me was so defective? Why was I not worthy of their love?" He asked.

"You were worthy of their love."

"According to you, perhaps."

"No, you were worthy of their love. They were just incapable of giving it, for whatever reason." She moved her closer to him.

"So you say."

"You are worthy of love."

He did not look at her.

She pounded the table. His glow turned white.

"You are worthy of love. Don't ever forget that," she replied.

"I will try not to."

"No, you need to believe it. You are worth being loved. Never forget that."

"You sound so bossy about it," He noted.

"Well, I am a bossy know-it-all." She winked.

"That you are." He grinned as his glow returned to yellow.

"Hermione!"

Someone was pounding upon the door.

"I know you're in there! Open the door!"

She groaned and put her head in her hands as Severus turned red.

Not this arse again!