Once again, she stood on the cobblestone outside of Thistlebook. This time she knew he was watching, so she strode with confidence toward the front door. It opened as she stepped upon the small stoop. He met her with a relaxed stance she found welcoming; his black trousers coupled with a deep green button-down collared shirt, and hair brushed off his face. "Hermione."

The rumble of his baritone betrayed an uncharacteristic warmth as he enunciated her name, and she barely noticed the scratching that tried to filter through. She had never heard the man speak her name before, but a traitorous part of her brain became alight with the hope of continuing to hear it fall from his lips. She inclined her head towards him, pulling on her courage to speak an unfamiliar word-softly and with hesitancy, "Severus."

He stepped aside permitting her entry and gestured to the seats they occupied on her previous visit. She missed the small, twitching smile that attempted to pull at his lips as he followed her to the sitting room. Hermione pushed all of her nerves and discomfort behind her occlumency shields before seating herself and facing him. "Thank you for the invitation."

Severus Snape regarded her, attempting to garner an air of nonchalance, but settling for a warm aloofness. Hermione wore her hair pulled off her face, the voluminous mass of curls had loss some of its riotous appearance, but it echoed of the young girl he once knew. He noted the length helped control the bulk of the curls, keeping them more loosely coiled, but errant strands threatened to pass along her periphery despite her attempts to keep them at bay. He enjoyed the juxtaposition; her need for cohesion or order threatened by wayward stragglers and nuisances. He briefly wondered if she realized how much it reflected what he knew of her life. "I am pleased that you agreed to return. I am...regretful of how your previous visit ended."

"Yes. I am sorry for my behavior." Hermione replied instantly, she mentally kicked herself for the reprise of the behavior she exhibited as his student so many years ago. She inhaled and could see by the look on his face that he had felt it too and tried again. "I had hoped that I would have been able to stay longer and that you would have been willing to answer some of my questions."

"I believe I have explained how it is I came to be alive and here, have I not?" His question was calm, but firm. Severus tried to have her understand that there was not much more to discuss on this topic. Hermione nodded her agreement, but he could see that his death was not what she was hoping to discuss. He shifted in his chair and hoped he didn't look as uncomfortable as he was beginning to feel. "What is it you wish to know?"

"The note." Hermione almost whispered the two words. She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to discuss the note he had sent during the Horcrux Hunt first, but she was also unable to keep the words from slipping past her lips. She watched him closely, as she knew he was already uncomfortable, and she needed to gauge how far she could push this conversation. She did not shy away from his gaze, nor did she choose to occlude-he had glimpsed it all anyway-so she stared openly into his eyes.

"Ah, yes." He steepled his fingers briefly and rested back against the chair. "You know now that it was my Patronus that led Potter to the sword that night. I sent you the note hoping that that overly busy brain of yours would understand the importance of the Hallows sooner than later, and- "

Hermione watched him break off. He seemed to war briefly with himself, as though his years of spying had taught him not to reveal what he was about to say. She willed him to remember that the war was over, that she would understand whatever he was struggling to say. His dark eyes opened to hers and she felt what it was he wanted to communicate. I wanted someone to know that I didn't want to kill Albus Dumbledore. I wanted someone to know that Potter had to die. I wanted someone to know I wasn't the villain I had to be. And I wanted-needed-that person to be you.

"Severus," she began, and his eyes seemed to close off again to her. He wasn't cold, but his aloofness returned, even if she knew he felt more comfortable with her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't understand then. Ron chose that night to return to us, and I kept the note hidden from the boys because I didn't know how they would respond. But, by the time we found you in the-in the Shrieking Shack, I was beginning to realize I had made a mistake. I should have...done more with what you gave me."

Hermione surprised herself by reaching a hand across the space between their chairs to tentatively place a hand on his forearm. He didn't flinch at her touch, but a taunt ness ran under her fingers, as if he were preparing to flee at any moment. She felt him relax and draw breath to speak. "Mr. Weasley returned to you?"

She grimaced at his question, withdrawing her hand from his arm. "Yes. Some months before, after considerable influence from the Slytherin locket, fatigue, hunger, and anxiety...Harry, Ron, and I had a terrible row. Ron wanted to leave. He wanted me to go with him. He asked me to make a choice." She paused. The pain of that day was like a broken bone that never set correctly. Healed, but never the same. She knew Severus could see it on her face. "I chose Harry. And Ron chose to leave."

Severus leaned forward in his chair. "There was always going to come a time when you had to choose between what was right and what was easy."

Hermione felt her eyes sting at his words. They were Albus Dumbledore's words. Do not cry in front of Severus Snape. Do not cry in front of Severus Snape. She quickly cleared her throat, and Snape returned to the leaned back position he had adopted in his chair. "Excuse me, sir-Severus-might I be able to fetch a glass of water from your kitchen?"

"No need. Winky!" He replied, and a small, familiar house elf appeared at his side. "Would you please bring us some water and tea?"

The petite elf nodded her head at him before turning to Hermione. "Hello Missy Granger."

"Oh, hello, Winky." Hermione responded. She cast a glance at Severus, who almost looked to be suppressing an amused look. "How wonderful to see you again. Thank you for getting us tea."

Winky disappeared with a minute sound, and Snape spoke, cutting off Hermione's question. "When I was Headmaster, Winky became rather attached to my service. When I came here, I called for her knowing I would need the assistance with my recovery when Narcissa's house arrest began. Winky came and has willingly chosen to stay by my side. I have never forced her to remain with me. She is happy."

"My time for advocating is through. I couldn't bear to continue on that path after Dobby." Hermione brushed her hand through the air as if sweeping away his reasons. She clasped her hands in her lap and her countenance became dark when she mentioned Dobby. Winky chose that moment to reappear with the tray of tea and glasses of water.

"Dobby was a good elf." She said, then disappeared again.

"Yes, he was," Hermione responded while Severus handed her the glass of water she requested. "He saved my life."

Severus Snape watched as Hermione's face withdrew. She accepted her water but simply held the glass between her hands, eyes unfocused on it in her lap. He didn't particularly remember Dobby the house elf, but he wanted to know how he had saved the young woman in front of him, and why it made her react this way. He thought of providing the same reassurance she had given him earlier, but he was too unaccustomed to such acts. His fingers twitched instead of reaching out to her. He cleared his throat instead and set about making more noise than necessary to fix his tea. As her eyes lifted, he gently queried, "How is it a house elf saved your life?"

He watched as her hands trembled as she raised her glass to draw a substantial drink of water. They steadied, briefly, as she reached to place the glass back on the service tray. She had not raised her eyes more than what was necessary to complete her actions. The breath she drew was beyond that to reassure wayward nerves, it was pulled in to steady her soul, and Severus respected-immediately-the amount of strength she was finding within herself to answer his question. After she released her breath, clenched and unclenched her hands, Hermione finally raised her eyes to his again. "I still struggle to speak of what happened at Malfoy Manor. Harry tripped the taboo on his name. We were taken by Snatchers. Harry and Ron were removed to the dungeons, but I was held back for questioning."

She paused, breathing in that same steady way she had before. He recognized the clipped manner in which she told her story; disembodied from the experience, reciting facts and resting on simple truths to get through the telling. How many times had he done the exact same in his servitude as a spy?

"Bellatrix Lestrange wanted to know how we had come into possession of the sword. She was...thorough...and...creative with her methods of interrogation."

He watched as her fingers brushed across the sleeve of her sweater's right forearm. She hitched it up, rolling it back to her elbow, and Severus could make out the scarred writing in her flesh. She pulled it back down and lifted to pull her hair off her shoulder, revealing the side of her neck, and the raised 2-inch scar below her ear and near her collarbone. Her eyes met his again as her hair fell back into place. "The first Crucio felt like death. And every subsequent one she cast had me wishing for it. I can't remember how many more times she may have used it before switching to the blade. It wasn't long after that Dobby appeared with Harry, Ron, and the others that were being held at the Manor. He saved me. He saved all of us. And that horrible, psychopathic bitch killed him."

She spat the last sentence with a vitriol Severus was unaware she possessed. Then he watched her falter. She released a harsh, choked sob, anger flying across her features even as sadness flooded her. He did reach for her then. His barriers broke, and he raised her from her chair as he rose from his. He met her in the space between, hands splayed over her shoulders in a way he hoped provided comfort and grounded her emotions before they overwhelmed her. She ran the back of her hand across her face and schooled her features again. He felt the signature trace of her occlumency begin to slide into place. At this, he raised one hand to her chin, tilting her face towards his. "Don't."

Hermione blinked at him but stilled at his command. "Don't hide it."

She dropped her efforts to occlude, choosing to stare into the eyes of her former professor. "Then see it for yourself."

Severus dropped his hand back to her shoulder, surprised at her invitation to enter her mind. He searched her face, looking for any hint of hesitation or refusal, but she gave none. His dark eyes settled on her honeyed ones and he could see the images she had spoken of, felt the pain and terror, marveled at her strength and fortitude, and witnessed the death of the brave elf called Dobby. As he withdrew from her memories, he stepped back to his chair. "This is why you learned to occlude, correct?"

She simply nodded as she returned to her chair again, the myriad of emotions she had felt were calm again, settled by sharing the burden with another. "The nightmares were...palpable in the weeks that followed. I began meditating before going to bed at night, and the process continued from there. Now it is almost second nature to help with the survivor guilt and the triggers I can experience at work. There are few people I drop them for."

"It was a wise decision to seek the security and control Occlumency can provide," he replied. "It also is an unsustainable way to live. It's an empty life without connection. I speak from experience."

"Are you speaking of Harry's mother, Lily Potter?" Hermione voiced her question softly, as she was want to do when approaching sensitive topics. It was a tactic she had learned from her years as Harry's best friend and had served her well. She attempted to employ the same strategy with Snape. Severus' head jerked rather awkwardly and swiftly in her direction. Hermione saw an emotion flare in his dark eyes, but she couldn't be certain what it was, and she knew to remain silent and accepting of whatever his answer may be.

"Yes. I mistreated her and paid a heavy price for my mistake. I told myself I learned so that I could keep her safe, but really I did it to hide my own pain." He rose from his chair and abruptly left the room.


A/N: Like it? Love it? Missed it? Drop a comment, click the follow and/or favorite. All are appreciated. -Archer

I'm not big on leaving personal notes on my work, but I did want to say I'm grateful if you stayed with this over the unexpected hiatus I took. Thank you.