Author's Note: Finally, we find out the terrible thing Hermione has done! Please go easy on her :)

Direct continuation.

Sorry is the wake of misdeed. It's the crippling ripple of consequence. Sorry is sadness, just as knowing is sadness.

- Craig Silvey, Jasper Jones

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"Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn, my God do you learn."

- C.S. Lewis

Contrition

"All right, well," Hermione took a slow, even, breath as she watched Snape settle back into his newly formed chair, "the true beginning starts at the end of sixth year. You remember that's when Vold . . . the Dark Lord began to escalate his attacks on muggles and the muggle born?"

Seeing Snape raise his left eyebrow, and knowing that meant of course he remembered the escalation, he'd been a forced participant in it, her cheeks flushed slightly.

"Right, well," she cleared her throat and continued on, "at that point I already knew I wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts for seventh year because I had to help Harry find the Horcruxes. And with Dumbledore," she shot him an apologetic look for having to bring this point up," dead, you, seemingly working on the other side, and the rest of The Order quite frankly a mess because they really were entirely too dependent on Dumbledore to lead them, I had no one left whom I trusted, to ask for the advice that I so desperately needed."

"Advice regarding what?" Snape asked with a furrowing of his brow.

Hermione's eyes began to fill.

"Advice regarding," she sucked in a ragged breath, "what to do with my parents."

When her voice broke at the end, Snape's eyes widened . . . this was not how he had expected her story to begin. And seeing how Miss Granger was chewing on her lip as her breath quickened, he realized that however the rest of this went, it was going to be much more emotionally painful than he had anticipated.

He was right.

Because she continued on then, telling him how she, a mere sixth year at that point, completely on her own, had wiped her parents' memories of her, everyone they'd ever known, and the decades of life that they'd lived there in England. That she was able to do that much was amazing, that somehow she was THEN able to cast an enchantment which gave them new memories, and had them relocate all the way to Australia, was truly astounding! And all the way through her telling of that part of the story all he could think was that yes, objectively speaking, perhaps what she had done was 'wrong'. . . he was certain that her parents would have seen her decisions as such . . . but given the climate of the time, he believed that she had been right to do it. Better than anyone, Snape understood that most moral decisions made during wartime could not be viewed in terms of black and white, but essentially by varying degrees of more right, or less wrong.

The choices she had made were somewhere in the middle of that convoluted spectrum.

Because there was no doubt in his mind, without Miss Granger's intervention, the elder Grangers would have been executed before the end of the war. It wasn't a topic that the Dark Lord had specifically brought up in front of him, but knowing what he did about how the Death Eaters were operating once they were out of the shadows, Snape could say for certain that the execution would have been ordered first as punishment to Miss Granger for her open support of Potter, but more particularly simply because of who she was personally. Even the Dark Lord had understood on some level, (though of course it was openly denied) that she had been (and still was) the living proof that his pureblood ideology was an absolute farce. She was unequivocally, and near universally, known to be the brightest witch of her age.

And she was muggleborn.

The Death Eaters had despised her, and would have done anything they could to make her suffer. So the safest place for her parents truly had been on the other side of the world, and as far as Snape could see, her decisions made during that period had been just.

At least the ones she'd recounted so far.

And by the way that she was able to move through that part of the story without falling back into her initial tears, showed him that Miss Granger was also more comfortable with those actions she had taken in the early days of that terrible summer. It wasn't until after she'd skimmed over the events during her year on the run, that he saw her move to begin wringing her damaged hands together.

He immediately cut in with a soft, "no," as he waved his own hand to separate her fingers again.

Her eyes darted anxiously over to his for a second, before she realized what he had meant. She swallowed and nodded.

"Right, thank you. So anyway," she let her palms lay out flat on her thighs, "during that whole year, I hadn't told anyone, not even the boys, what I'd done. When I'd," she bit her lip, "well, when I'd sent my parents away, I'd told myself that their absence would be permanent. That they were gone and I needed to accept that because it was the only way to keep them safe. So I grieved their loss as though they really were dead, because I figured that way if I was captured, and my memories were probed, all anyone would see would be my grief. I spent those first weeks at the Burrow, the ones before Bill and Fleur's wedding, crying myself to sleep every night and hiding that from everyone. Of course even then there was a flicker of hope in me that they could come back someday, but," she took a breath, "I tried so hard to ignore it. Better to accept the worst case scenario, and I had thought, so naively, that never seeing them again would be the worst case," her voice began to crackle as her gaze fell down to her gloves, "but I was wrong. Because after the war was over I, well," she winced and started to cry again, "I lost my mind for a little while, and the decisions I made then," her watery eyes shot back over to his, "oh, sir, they were so terrible, I don't even how to explain to you what I did!"

Snape took a breath and leaned forward.

"You are doing fine, Miss Granger," he responded quietly, and with a calm he didn't feel given the pit he had in his stomach . . . the rest of this was going to be very bad, "just fine. I understand this is extremely difficult, but I am sure you will feel less stress once you have told me everything. So please, take a breath, find your place, and continue."

Though he'd thought that his words would help to settle her, as she stared over him, wide eyed and panting, with tears running down her face, Snape was actually worried that perhaps she was on the verge of COMPLETELY breaking down. So to head that off, he found himself quickly coming to his feet and stepping over to the bed so he could run his fingers through her hair. When she let out a muffled sob, he leaned down to press his lips to her good ear.

"Last night when I shared my magic," he whispered while letting his hand slide down to lightly rub the back of her neck, "do you remember the feelings of calm and strength that you said you received from the experience?"

Hearing her sniffle out a mumbled, "yes," he let his hand fall away, and he leaned back to give her a look.

"Okay," his voice hardened, "now I want you to remember that you are Hermione Fucking Granger. You fought DEATH EATERS at fifteen, and took on the Dark Lord himself, barely two years later. You are a warrior. So to hell with my magic. With or without it, you are the strongest witch I know."

That time when she looked at him, he could see that she was choking down a sob. Finally she let it out, and with it came a bitter, broken, smile.

"Merlin, how I have needed you, and I so wish I had come here earlier!"

His stomach churned at her words, and he found himself reaching out to touch her again . . . it was becoming impossible not to do so. And as he brushed his thumb along the shell of her ear, he saw her eyes fall shut. Whether the movement came with her letting out a whimper or a gasp, he was not sure, but either way it brought an ache to his chest. Then he took a breath.

"Open your eyes," he whispered. And when she did, he graced her with something rarely seen . . . an actual smile. Though it was small.

And no less broken than hers had been.

"You are here with me now," he continued on with a firm nod, "that is all that matters. And from this point on, I vow that you will have my support, and assistance, for as long as it takes. Now," he slowly exhaled, "do you think you will be able to continue? Or do you wish to try the magic sharing again first? Though I believe, with all that I am, that you can do this without my magical assistance, we must also allow that your body did suffer catastrophic physical trauma, not even twenty-four hours ago. That is clearly not helping you maintain your emotional control right now."

Hermione blinked as another tear slid down her cheek.

As much as she so desperately wanted to feel the warmth of his magic filling her again, she knew that she had to continue without it. Because he was right, she was Hermione Fucking Granger, and she was no coward. Absolute fuck up, yes, but . . . she sucked in a ragged breath . . . coward, no.

Not so far.

"I can finish," she murmured with a slow exhale, "but after," she looked up at him hopefully, and what she believed, a bit pathetically, "could we? I mean," her lips pursed, "if you aren't too angry with me by then?"

Snape scowled slightly.

"I already told you," he answered with a grunt as he moved back to his chair, "I will forgive you no matter what you have done, so I already know that I will hold no anger towards you at the end of this conversation. We will do the magical sharing immediately then, if you so wish."

Silly witch.

"Okay," Hermione gave him a faint, melancholy, smile, "thank you. That helps, actually. So," she blinked and took a deep breath, trying SO hard to keep both her mental focus and her emotional control, "the war ended, and I was so happy to find out that you had survived. Actually my visit with you at St. Mungo's," she gave him a shy glance, "it was one of the few bright points of that summer, because I spent most of that time at The Burrow. Harry was there too. When we'd first decided to accept Molly's offer to move in, we'd thought it would be good for us, being around people again after a year on the run. But also, of course we'd really wanted to help Ron and the others deal with Fred's death. But," she winced slightly, "it wasn't what I'd expected."

Then she rolled her eyes.

"Well, I don't know what I expected exactly given the circumstances, but it was just so hard being there. The grief that Molly and Arthur and George were experiencing was so intense, and I was just stuck there in the midst of it. Molly would burst into sobs at the most random of things, and George was, what I knew muggle doctors would call, 'clinically depressed' but," she huffed bitterly, "you know we don't acknowledge that kind of emotional disturbance in the wizard world, so he was just suffering in his own hell. And Arthur, he just wandered around the house," her voice started to thicken, "he seemed so lost. I couldn't do anything for any of them. And Harry, he had Ginny. They would sneak off all the time, just leaving me there. Of course I still had Ron," she started to feel a bit of discomfort then discussing her previous relationship, but she pushed that down . . . Snape didn't need to know the two of them had spent that first month shagging like rabbits, "but," she cleared her throat to push off the images in her head, "he was grieving too. And then after a couple weeks of us spending so much time together without Harry around, a novelty for us, he decided that we should pursue a real relationship, as adults. But for me," she slowly exhaled, "living together without the threat of constant death hanging over our heads, had made me realize how very incompatible we would be as a proper couple. Ironically," she let out another bitter huff, "if I had allowed him to convince me to give us a shot, I probably wouldn't have ended up in the hell that I am now. I would have just been miserable in a whole different way."

The moment those words left her mouth, Hermione winced and closed her eyes.

"No, wait," she shook her head, "that was a terrible thing to say. It was unkind, and untrue. Ron did nothing wrong. We're just very different people who have always had different interests, and different goals for our lives. Anyway though," she cleared her throat, "the point in me mentioning all of that with Ron, is that once we'd talked about our futures, and realized how different our plans for them truly were, we kind of," her lips pursed, "drifted apart. I mean it wasn't a falling out, there was no fight. We were, are," her brow furrowed, "still friends. But once we'd decided to get on with our lives beyond the war, that meant making active choices that were going to take us in different directions. The same thing with Harry and Ginny. They were off making plans for their future together, and those plans had nothing at all to do with me. It was such a strange time, because the boys, as infuriating as they could be on many occasion, had been my anchors since that day we met on the train. For good or bad, I always knew who I was with them. But now our little triumvirate had splintered and I'd sort of been," her voice faded, "set adrift. Basically," she cleared her throat to keep going, "I had nothing to keep me at the Burrow any longer," she took a breath, "so a few weeks later I moved out. It was the day after Harry's eighteenth birthday. I was all alone back in my parents' house in Hampstead. It was very lonely, and after being at the Burrow with so many people, it was so, so, quiet too. Just me and Crookshanks."

"Your familiar, yes?" Snape cut in with a raised eyebrow, as he did recall brushing many a feline hair off his robes at Grimmauld Place.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "my cat. He was all the company I had, but," her mouth twisted in a grim smile, "he obviously wasn't enough, you know? It was right around then that I first started thinking about my parents again. It had been so long since I'd even allowed myself the luxury of remembering them. But being home, in peacetime, I had to consciously remind myself that it was actually OKAY to think about them. It was safe to finally let those memories surface. I wasn't going to get dragged off and tortured for information again."

"Wait," Snape cut in sharply with a raise of his hand, "stop! What do you mean again?! When were you dragged off and TORTURED?!"

What the bloody hell was THIS?!

"What?" Hermione blinked and looked over at him with a faint confusion, "you know, when the snatchers caught us and we were brought to Malfoy Manor. Or," her eyebrow rose up at the look of growing horror on his face, "did you not know about that?"

"No," his fists clenched as his voice got louder, "I did NOT know! Was it Lucius who tortured you?! Because if it was, I will Avada him straight to hell!"

Seeing how genuinely incensed Snape was at the thought of her being hurt, sent a strange warmth through Hermione's chest. But she didn't want him killing Lucius over something he hadn't done . . . not when there were probably dozens of legitimate reasons to kill him over things that he had done . . . so she quickly raised her hand.

"No, it's okay," she cut back quickly, "it wasn't Lucius, it was Bellatrix, and she's already been Avada'd straight to hell, so," she shrugged, "there's nothing to be done. But thank you though," her expression softened, "you know, for caring enough to threaten to kill one of your oldest friends, just for me."

Snape's jaw twitched.

"Lucius is probably my only friend," he responded quietly, "but after the last twenty-four hours of caring for you, if he were to ever physically harm you, I am certain I would kill him without hesitation."

Hermione's eyes filled at his declaration, and for a moment there was nothing but silence as they simply stared at one another. Though she might have expected that there would be some flush in his cheeks after saying that . . . it was such an open admission of his apparently growing depth of feelings . . . he actually didn't seem to be at all embarrassed. Resolute, perhaps, but definitely not embarrassed. So she found herself responding just as openly from her side.

He had given her courage.

"Funny as it sounds," she whispered as a tear spilled over and slid down her cheek, "that death threat is probably one of the most romantic things a man's ever said to me. And I so wish I could reach out and hold your hand right now, because whatever this is that's happening with us," her voice crackled, "it's the only thing holding me together."

For a moment Snape's expression twisted, it almost seemed like he was in physical pain, but then he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"I am here for you whether I can hold your hand or not," he answered softly, "though I do promise that action will be the first one I take once it is safe to remove your gloves. Now," he tipped his head, "I am sorry for interrupting your story, but the thought of you being tortured was too upsetting to let go without immediate inquiry. I will reserve any other questions to a later point." He made a gesture with his hand, "please continue."

Hermione blinked and looked down.

"Right," she took a shallow breath, "where was I? Oh," she shook her head, "August. The memories. That was the first time that I'd even considered seeing if there was a way to get my parents back. But before I was able to give the idea any serious thought, to think how it might be done, I received an urgent owl from Hogwarts. The Ministry had just decided to set up focused, in depth, tutorials to help those of us who still wanted to take our NEWTs but didn't want to return for a full, proper, seventh year of study at Hogwarts. The catch was though, that we had to be finished by the start of the new school year. And because they were still repairing the damage to the castle, officially, for the first time ever, school was starting on September fifteenth, instead of the first. The sessions were to begin within forty-eight hours, and to last for the next four weeks. Of course I had to go. So I got my supplies, packed up Crookshanks, and off we went. Eighteen of us showed up at the gates, neither Harry nor Ron came, but the rest of us, a good chunk of Dumbledore's Army, ironically enough," she let out a heavy sigh, "we were all housed in Slytherin. But given their physical location, the dungeons had obviously suffered the least amount of damage during the final battle, so it was it was the only house that was completely ready for students."

"But wasn't it difficult for you, being in that house?" Snape asked softly, with a worried crease in his brow. And yes, he was breaking his own just set rule about holding his questions but he could not even imagine a muggleborn living in Slytherin. It wasn't only the students who had held those pureblood views. There were spirits there who could be quite nasty.

And dangerous.

"Um," Hermione nodded slightly as she bit down a sigh, "it was and it wasn't. I was frightened a little bit when we first arrived just because I wasn't sure if I was emotionally ready to be called a Mudblood again," her lips pressed together in a thin line, "I was so tired of that abuse, and I'd won the damn war, so I shouldn't have had to deal with that rubbish again at all. So when I got there I was anxious and kind of geared up for a fight, but luckily most of the people who came back for the tutorials were from other houses. Draco was actually one of only three Slytherins, and he, somewhat shockingly, apologized to me immediately for his past behavior. It helped settle some of my anxiety. He also gave me advice about areas of their house that I should avoid at all costs."

"Third floor bathrooms," Snape cut in with an anxious twitch of his jaw. And she quickly nodded.

"Yes, he said that would be a very unsafe area for me. And there were a few others that I'm sure you know about as well. So I was careful, and Draco voluntarily placed himself as a buffer between me and the other two Slytherins, who were less than happy about having a muggle in their old house."

And sensing then that Snape had another question, though it was obvious from the way he was gnawing on his lower lip that he was trying to hold it for later, she answered the thought she knew was on his mind.

"Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise Zabini," she clarified for him, "those were the other students, and because I know you're wondering about this too, neither of them used the M word. Draco bat bogey hexed Millicent the first time she started to say it, and that was the end of it. But really," she cleared her throat again, "after the first night of settling in, I was almost too busy to even notice them or their snide remarks. From then on it was four weeks of fifteen hour days, cramming in an entire YEAR'S worth of studies. The Great Hall was still being repaired so the house elves provided food for us in the common room. It was much more convenient given our time constraints, and it's no exaggeration to say that all I did during those weeks was sleep and study and grab the occasionally snack to eat while I read. And it paid off. At the end of week four, I'd successfully completed all of my tutorials, so the next day I was eligible to start taking my NEWTs."

Then she paused to shrug, almost indifferently, because studying for NEWTs now seemed so ridiculous.

So many things seemed ridiculous now.

"I passed everything," she finally continued on with a sigh, "so a week later I was sent back out into the world again. Except I didn't know what to do with myself," her voice began to thicken, "and three days after I got home, it was my birthday. It was September nineteenth, and Molly of course insisted I come back to the Burrow to celebrate. She made me a cake and everyone gave me a present, and we all pretended like it was a normal, happy, day, but," she sniffled, "it wasn't. All I'd wanted was for my parents to be there. And all of the distractions I'd had all summer, they were gone, and with them, all of those walls I'd built up to protect myself from that blinding grief and guilt I had for wiping their memories, they'd fallen away too. Because since I'd gotten home from Hogwarts, my parents were all I could think about. It was this constant emptiness that filled me. I cried every day. But all of the reasons I'd had for sending them away, and convincing myself that they could never come back, they were all moot. It was safe to be a muggle again, so I finally accepted that I could start looking into finding a way to bring them home." Her voice faded slightly, "it was my wish when I blew out my candles. So the day after my birthday, I began my research on reversing memory charms. I kept my expectations low, but I was still so excited to realize that it was possible to do it, but then I realized," her voice crackled, "to my absolute devastation, that the window of time to reverse the charm had already closed. At that point it had been almost sixteen months since I'd sent them away."

She looked over at him as another tear slid down her cheek.

"Most memory charms become permanent after one year."

"Yes," Snape nodded slowly as a sense of dread began to fill him . . . what had she done?

"This is true," he continued on, trying to keep his tone light, "but most is not all. Sometimes there are ways."

"Right," she choked down a sob, "sometimes there are ways. And if only I'd come to you then, to ask you to help me figure out those ways, we wouldn't be having this conversation now almost a year later. But I didn't come to you, because I became lost in my own self loathing and pity. I was so angry with myself for not attempting to bring them back immediately after the final battle, because then I would have still been in that one year window. It would have probably all been fine. And I just couldn't accept that I had made such a calamitous mistake, that I had now literally lost them forever! So that's when I became obsessed with the idea of finding a loophole. Headmaster McGonagall had called in a favor for me after my NEWTs, to get me an apprenticeship at the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It was supposed to start in November, but I got a one year extension. I told them I needed time to adjust to living in peacetime again, and they believed me. And Harry and Ron and the Weasleys, I sent them an owl, telling them that I'd decided to travel abroad for awhile to clear my head. And they believed me. It was astounding how I could just say things, and people believed me!"

"They believed you, Miss Granger, because they trusted you," Snape cut in with a faint reproach, and though his tone had no real bite, and his look was kind, she still winced as though his words had been shouted.

The guilt flooded through her.

"Yes," she took in a ragged breath, "that was it. They trusted me. Everyone trusted me, and I let everyone down. That wasn't my intention, but I'd needed time to myself, and somehow I'd managed to buy myself this perfect, near indefinite, window where I could do whatever I wanted to do without being accountable to anyone at all. So for the next three months, all I did was research. I really did travel, that lie ended up becoming truth. I went to Dobrogea then to Greece, Turkey, and finally, Transylvania. All places with very old magical communities, because I needed their knowledge. Their books. It took so long to translate everything after I'd gathered the books though, another three or four months at least, but finally, I thought I had it. I'd figured out the right spell and the right potion to go with it. And I'd done a genetic locator charm to find my parents' new address, so I was ready to take the trip. I went the muggle way, just because I was still avoiding dealing with the Ministry. It was nobody's business what I was doing, that's what I thought. So I got to Perth, and tracked down my mum and dad at their new home." Her lip started to tremble, "I sobbed the first time I saw them in their driveway. They didn't see me of course, I was disillusioned. But I knew I really only would have one chance to get everything right, so I watched them constantly for three days at both their home and their work before I felt like was ready to try to bring them back. So on the third night I followed them back to their new house, and right through the front door. I'd stunned them both before they even knew I was there. And then I did it," her voice began to thicken again, "but it didn't work. I was positive I had figured out the right spell and potion, that perfect loophole, but no matter how many times I cast the spell and revived them, nothing happened. They were just stuck as these strangers who were getting more and more terrified of me each time they woke up. And I couldn't just give up, not then. I'd gone so far, literally to the other side of the world, I had to figure it out! I had to bring them HOME! So I, I . . . I . . ."

When she continued to stammer and cry, Snape cut in again because he knew this was the crux of it all.

When everything truly fell apart.

"Miss Granger, please," his voice thickened, "tell me what you did, right now!"

The emotion in his tone seemed to help her to refocus, because her eyes shot over to his as her own voice broke.

"I cursed them! I cast an Imperio and I MADE them come home!"

"You did what?!" He hissed in disbelief.

"I cursed them!" She sobbed as her arms came up to fold at her chest, "my poor parents, I'd already stripped one identity from them, and then I stole another. They were happy in Australia, I could see that, they had built themselves another life, another practice, they were even looking into fostering a young girl who had been orphaned from a car accident. I," she sniffled and swallowed, "I don't like to think that played any part in what I did, but I can't deny that I was jealous," her face twisted, "and hurt, when I saw them together on my second day there. I mean, I know that they didn't remember me, they really didn't, but still," her voice crackled, "somehow I just couldn't believe that they were going to REPLACE me with another daughter! So I made them send a letter to the orphanage telling them that they were moving away. Then I made them close their practice and sell their home, and to tell their neighbors that they had an urgent family issue and had to go away immediately. That way nobody would look for them. And once all of that was done, eight days after I'd arrived in Australia, I had my father buy us three one way tickets back to Heathrow. Of course when we arrived, I had to Confundo the Immigration officers because obviously there were no logical answers to the questions they were asking. Somehow I got us out of the airport without being arrested by the muggle authorities, or the Ministry, but then I didn't know what to do. We were home, but by then NOTHING was like I'd thought it would be! And I couldn't bring them to our old house in Hampstead because it's much too densely populated an area to put an effective Notice Me Not charm on the house. The neighbors would have been swarming in asking my parents where they'd been for the last year and a half. So I took them to the one place I thought we'd have some real privacy, our family's summer cottage in Cornwall."

Snape took a deep breath as his brow lifted.

"And what do your parents think they're doing in Cornwall?"

She let out another sob.

"They don't THINK anything, sir! I was not exaggerating when I said that NOTHING was like it should have been! EVERYTHING went wrong! It was the dark magic, I think," she continued with a sniffle, "because outside of my Horcrux studies, until this happened, my knowledge of the dark arts had been very limited in focus, and I never had any intention of doing what I did, so I hadn't done any research on how to cast the Imperius properly. I mean," she winced, "it still obviously would have been a horrible thing to do to them, but at least if I'd studied up I could have done this horrible thing CORRECTLY! But I could see within a day that something wasn't quite right with their behavior. But it wasn't until three days later when we actually got on the plane home, and you know it's such a long flight, that I realized just how bad things were going to become. It was obvious that they had some kind of," she winced and shook her head, "brain damage from the spell. At first, when we were still in Australia, it was just that they would just trail off when they were talking, and it was strange, but I didn't know if that was a normal side effect of the curse. But then by the time we left, they had started to get more and more confused about the simplest of things, like how to use a drinking straw. My dad couldn't figure it out at all. But then finally, it was like they were just," she winced, "broken. On the flight, they didn't know when they were hungry or thirsty. They would just stare at me with these blank expressions, when I asked them questions. And my mother actually wet herself, in her seat on the plane, because she didn't know enough to get up and go to the TOILET!"

When Miss Granger's words ended in another broken sob, Snape winced and dropped his head into his hands.

Oh bloody hell . . . she really did cock everything up.

"So what exactly have you done with them?"

His voice was somewhat muffled about his palm, and with his head still down . . . he was just trying to think . . . he heard her sniffle before she continued speaking.

Her voice was getting hoarse.

"Basically," she took a breath, "for the last two months, they've just been sitting in front of the television all day, every day. They don't really seem to process what they're watching, but," she bit her lip, "it makes me feel better to have it on for them, rather than they stare at a blank wall. And I needed to be able to do the research on Dark Arts and spell damage without worrying that they'd be starving to death and sitting in a pool of their own filth, so I've had a charm set on each of them. It makes sure they get food and exercise and that they go to the toilet on a regular rotation." Her jaw twisted, "it's sort of a modified infant care charm that I found in a Magical Mother book. Given the situation, it's worked well enough," she winced slightly, "we've had a few bathroom incidents, but physically," she rolled her eyes, "outside of the horrific brain damage that is, their health is good. I run a diagnostic on them each day. But before I started brewing this last potion, knowing how dangerous it was, in case something went wrong I'd sent them to their beds and put them under a stasis charm. The charm's supposed to hold them suspended for forty-eight hours if I did it right, but," she shook her head, "you know now that I hadn't eaten or slept in three days before I cast it, so I don't really trust it. I think they'll need to be checked later today," her voice faded, "just in case I screwed that up too."

Hearing the sadness and self-loathing in her voice, Snape bit his lip. Then he took a breath, and let it out slowly.

"All right," he lifted his head to give her a dry look, "you were correct, you did cock everything up. However," he quickly shook his head to try and preempt the fresh batch of tears he could see filling her eyes, "I can see very clearly that this tragic chain of events began in desperation, and with your intentions being only of light, so I am NOT angry with you. I am angry with myself for not taking your owls in time to avoid you getting hurt, and I am angry with Potter and Weasley for letting you just," he scowled, "DISAPPEAR off the face of the earth for months on end, like you would simply be fine all on your own. By your accounts, it appears that they still all had each other, and you," he shook his head angrily, "you had no one. You were traumatized from fighting in a war, grieving the loss of a half dozen close friends, and then you were separated from your magical family," he gave her another look, "that is what the Weasleys are to you, your family, and losing them, and those ridiculous boys, meant that you were left completely isolated with no support system at all." He shook his head, "the fact that you fell down the path that you did is not really a surprise to me. I fell down the wrong path for much less noble reasons."

"But I cast an Unforgivable, sir," her voice broke, "on my PARENTS! If anyone finds out, I'm going to AZKABAN!"

"NO!" his voice suddenly boomed through the room, loud enough to make her jump, "you are NOT going to Azkaban! If I didn't go for everything I did," he shook his head vehemently, "you are not going for this! We will fix it. I," he gave her a pointed look, "will fix it, and no one will ever know what you did."

Hermione blinked and another tear ran down her cheek.

"I can't leave them the way they are," she whispered, "I can't. It's, what I've done to them," she winced and looked away from him, "it's an abomination."

"Miss Granger," Snape quickly came to his feet and reached out to put his hand on the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him again, "we will NOT leave them in this condition. I have some ideas on what might be done to fix things, or at least make them better. But in the absolute worst case, if I cannot reverse the spell damage, I promise that their situation will be resolved, humanely."

She choked down another sob.

"One Unforgiveable for another," she whispered with a crackle in her voice.

"It is not unforgiveable to return a person's dignity," he responded softly with a gentle caress of her neck, "or to remove them from a state of misery. So we will do what must be done, to right this wrong. And as I am sure that the stasis charm you set will be fine for at least another few hours, I am planning my visit there for after your ten am pain potion. I do not want to leave until I am sure you will be sleeping, because I do intend to spend some time in your lab looking over your research, and I cannot do that effectively, while also worrying about you being in pain. And now," he took a deep breath, and slowly let it out, "I believe it is time for your remaining potion regiment. And also," he gave her a gentle pat on the back, "you need breakfast."

As he started to step away, she reached out to brush her covered fingers along his sleeve. When he turned back, she gave him a sad smile.

"Thank you for being kind, sir. If you had been angry, I think it would have broken me."

Snape's expression softened then, as he reached down to catch those two fingers.

"Miss Granger," he spoke quietly, though firmly, "though I now understand why you have been punishing yourself for all of these months, please know," he shook his head, "no matter the terrible thing you did, you truly are not a bad person. You are what you have always been, decent and kind. If you were not, then you would not have been so consumed with guilt over your actions. You made a terrible, impulsive decision. And if circumstances were not what they are, I am absolutely certain that you would have immediately reversed the Imperius, as soon as you had come to your senses. Unfortunately," he sighed, "the choice to do that was taken from you. But I promise," he gave her fingers a shake, "I will fix it, and you will eventually forgive yourself for what you have done. Now," let out a heavy breath as he straightened up, "would hot chocolate and grilled cheese be all right for breakfast?"

For a moment she just stared up at him as her eyes filled with fresh tears. Then she nodded, and sniffled, "yes, please. That would be very nice."

He was making her favorites for her again, the meal he knew brought her comfort. And she knew then from the way that he ruffled her hair before he turned away, that this was his way of telling her that he really wasn't upset with her at all.

Her sins were already forgiven.

Still, as soon as he left the room, she burst into tears. Though that time the sobs felt more cathartic than anything else, because he had been right, unloading all of that guilt and stress had helped to loosen that terrible vice which had squeezing her heart for the last six months. Snape would make it better . . . she sucked in a ragged breath as she looked to him coming back through the sitting room door.

He had promised.

A/N 2: This fandom is SO huge that coming up with a wholly original idea for a story is obviously VERY difficult :) But in all my reading, I didn't come across anything quite like this concept, which was, I believe, why my brain decided it had to run with it. If it was unique, at least it was something new to contribute. A few people had guessed her issue had to do with her parents, but I'd love to hear if anyone had guess that she had done THIS to them. But it felt organic to me, in a twisted way, that in a moment of desperation, when she's all alone, and desperately lonely, that she could do this awful thing. All she wanted was to just get them back to England, then she figured she'd reverse the spell and deal with the fallout. But then she can't take it back, because she f'd up the curse so badly that she literally broke them. And I couldn't see Snape getting angry with her for the reasons he'd said. He'd f'd up way worse at her age with far less noble reasons to start, so he'll help her fix it, no matter what he has to do.

So next time around, bit more warm fuzzy romantical stuff, then, Snape's trip to the family cottage! Finally we'll be leaving the house, yay! And feedback is a wonderful thing, thank you!