The two Snape's had a dinner that looked like a scene from a romantic movie.

In the corner of the living room stood a round mahogany table with tall, white candle lights, accompanied by a small rose in a glass vase. On each side of the table stood two glasses of wine, and a beef Wellington that had been excellently cooked. Together with the sauce and the boiled vegetables, it was quite a culinary satisfaction to the husband and wife. Though neither of them said a word.

Cora had a sip of the wine and swirled the goblet lazily in her right hand. She studied her soon-to-be ex-husband intensely, like a serpent in front of a prey. So far he'd been so preoccupied with his dinner that she might as well have been invisible. A part of her wanted to throw the wine in his face, just to get a reaction.

"Did you talk with your father?" Severus suddenly asked and cut swiftly through the meat, as well as her train of thoughts. His baritone voice sounding almost bored.

"Not about our marriage, no." Cora waited for a reaction, but none came. So she had another sip of wine; this one larger than the first. "We didn't have time."

"Indeed." He continued cutting through his meal mechanically. After a few more bites, without looking up at her, he continued. "And what, pray tell, will be the outcome of our arrangement?"

"I don't know yet."

"Will you let me know when you do?"

"Yes."

He folded his barely used napkin and placed it on top of the now empty plate. Then he poured himself a goblet of wine, quickly emptied the cup and poured himself another.

Cora watched him finish goblet number two, and as he poured himself a third, she reached out and touched his hand. "It doesn't have to be like this."

"Like what? A farce of a marriage, where we both hate each other?" he mocked and pulled his hand away from her.

"I don't hate you, Severus," Cora sighed and retrieved her hand slowly. Here we go again. Always thinking the worst about everything. "I just don't understand you. That's all."

"So ignorance is enough to call off our marriage vows?" He sounded almost hurt. "After just a couple of weeks?"

"What else can I do? You want to talk, you don't want to talk. You're kind and then you're cruel." She leaned backwards in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm walking on eggshells here, and I can't live like that!" She could see how her words cut into him, like little arrows from a crossbow.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed through gritted teeth. The pain in his eyes now evident. "I can't be everything you need."

Cora leaned forward and put her face in her hands. She moaned frustrated into her palms. "I never asked you to!"

She felt like bursting into tears again. This was everything she'd hoped the dinner wouldn't turn out to be.

"You keep questioning my actions, but I have no idea where your own loyalties lie." His business-like tone had Cora's eyes dart up again. His statement made the color disappear from her face. If he told her father about his observations, there was sure to be trouble.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means... that I would be more careful with my actions, if I were you. Trust me, you do not want to give the Dark Lord a reason to think you would betray him."

"Like you betrayed Dumbledore, you mean?"

His face grew pale, and for a moment he just stared at her. The scene was slowly turning from a romantic Hallmark movie to a plot by Stephen King.

"He was your superior, your mentor... your friend..." Cora said slowly, clenching her fists in her lap. "If you think I'm not trustworthy, then what the hell are you? Why should anyone trust you after doing such a thing?"

Severus swallowed. After Lily's death, the death of Dumbledore, and by his hand, was the toughest burden he carried. Despite him being ordered by the Headmaster to finish the deed, Severus doubted he would ever be rid of the guilt. But what could he tell his wife about that? At one point she cried about using the Cruciatus Curse to save someone, and in the next she spent the afternoon with the darkest wizard of their time. And enjoyed it.

"Well?!" Her shrill voice made her sound, and look, terribly like her mother.

"I made the Unbreakable Vow." He hoped it would be enough, but it only made her scoff and roll her eyes. Like she didn't know the implications of such a commitment. "You'd rather I've died than him?"

"Honestly?" She leaned forward and measured him daringly with her eyes. "Sometimes. Yes." It wasn't exactly true, but once the words were out, she didn't feel like taking them back.

"Good to know." He pushed himself away from the table, tapped the top of it and both plates disappeared. "Desert?"

Cora shook her head, too furious to speak.

"Fine." He stood from his seat and walked towards the fireplace.

"You know that we're far from fine," she growled.

"Indeed."

Something in the twinkle of his eyes made Cora hesitate for a moment. Had her words cut so deep that they'd actually hurt him? A part of her felt guilty, if that was the case. After all, she hadn't really meant to say she wished him dead. The other part, and at the moment the stronger one, wanted to rant.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual.

"I'll repeat myself again - what. do. you. want. from me?"

"The truth."

He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly not budging.

Why Cora was suddenly so intent on finding out the truth about Dumbledore's death, she didn't know. Something inside of her just had to know. Maybe it was her stubbornness, the eagerness to win the argument. Or maybe it was something else. One thing was for sure, out of all the things Severus had done as a professor, killing Dumbledore was by far the most disturbing and confusing one.

Was he really that loyal to her father? Had she misread him all these years? Or was it all just for show? A part of a grander scheme?

When Severus kept staring at the flames in the fireplace, rather than replying, Cora swallowed the rest of her wine and continued. She figured she would have to use a different strategy.

She forced herself to calm down and used a more logical approach.

"The task was Draco's. Why did you take it upon yourself?" She folded her hands and rested her chin upon them. "Why did you make the Vow to my aunt? You could have said no."

"I could."

"But...?"

"But it was the right thing to do."

Cora's brows furrowed. How could murder be the right thing to do? Did he do it to protect Draco or to make sure that his master's enemy surely died? Was it both? It didn't make any sense. What was she missing?

"It was his time. Can we leave it at that?" He looked at his half-empty goblet of wine, disregarded it and walked further into the living room. Most certainly to pour himself a large glass of Firewhiskey.

"And have another week back and forth like this?" Cora stood, but remained at the table. "Be honest with me, Severus. Please... Why did you do it?"

"What more do you want me to say?" He said through gritted teeth and turned around angrily. "Do you want me to go into every single detail from that night? Tell you all the thoughts that went through my mind, describe the emotional conflicts I might have had, unravel the entire journey up until his death?"

He spat out the words, and fast, as if they were venomous. Cora flinched.

"Yes! I want us to be able to talk about things like that. I can't be married to someone I don't trust."

Cora's misty eyes made Severus cool down a little. His heart was still raising, from the stress of almost revealing the truth to her, but he forced himself to breathe more slowly.

Severus pitied his wife - stuck with him as a husband and a dysfunctional family. Despite his empathy, however, there was still the fact that Cora had spent an afternoon with the Dark Lord. What if Voldemort was onto him and tried to fish out information through his daughter?

"Where does your loyalty lie?" Severus asked and leaned against one of the leather chairs in front of the fireplace.

A heavy silence fell over the couple.

The flames in the fireplace now cast long shadows across the floor, bathing the books on the opposite wall in a golden light. The smell of the delicious meat, still lingered in the air, and on the outside, the rain prickled the window glass.

The cosy environment and the glasses of wine should have made her drowsy, but Cora was wide awake. She blinked a couple of times. To ask about her loyalty for a second time, should have angered her into a frenzy. However, she decided to contemplate his question thoroughly.

Maybe she would have to be the one to open up first. And if she was being honest with herself, where did her loyalties lie?

"I don't know," Cora whispered truthfully, after an eternity of silence.

It was the first time she'd admitted it out loud - both to herself and to another person. The truth of the matter struck her hard.

"They're my parents. I just..." She looked down on her hands, feeling too ashamed to finish her sentence.

"You want them to love you." He concluded. It was a statement, more than a question. No venom, just pure facts.

Cora nodded silently. She felt as if a dam inside of her was cracking up, about to break.

"But you lack conviction of what they ask of you?"

Cora nodded again. The exhaustion of constantly saying and doing the right thing, had taken a rather large toll on her. She didn't want to fight anymore.

"If you say no to them, what do you think will happen?" His words were as slow as his walk back to the table. Now it was his turn to be the serpent and she was the prey that was too far into the lair to get away.

"They'll kill me, or someone I love." The very thought terrified her.

"They might."

Cora hadn't noticed him move, until he was standing right beside her on her side of the table. Was this the moment where he stabbed her in the back and handed her over to her father for judgement?

As the candle lights flickered, she dared to raise her head again.

"I don't know what to do." She hugged herself, as if the temperature had suddenly dropped, and looked up into his eyes. She hoped there was something there that would be of assistance. "What do you want me to do?"

"What I want," he allowed himself to put some loose strays behind her ear. "is for you to find peace within yourself." As she hadn't flinched by his touch, he let his hand linger a little by her collarbone. He slowly felt a brown lock of hair between his fingers. It was silky smooth, compared to his greasy hair.

When he let her hair go, Cora oddly enough missed his hand. She tried to focus on what he had just said, the kindness in his words, and not just the warmth of his touch.

"That's what I'm trying to find. That's why I ask all these questions." She smiled meekly, hoping he would believe her. "It just doesn't sit right with me."

"How come?" He felt his pulse rise again, but remained in close proximity to her. Maybe they were breaking ground? Or maybe this is when she throws me to the wolves.

"Because... it's silly, I know." She shook her head, as if thinking of something funny. And then, with the boldest nerve she had, she decided to take a solid leap of faith. "I always thought you were one of the good guys, Severus. That being a Death Eater was something you did to get by, not a conviction of the heart."

She could see that she'd struck a nerve by her words. Was he angry? Was he relieved? She couldn't tell by his stony face.

"And what do you think," he swallowed. "now that you've married me?"

"I think," her brows furrowed. "that you're like a Rubix-cube. A puzzle I don't understand." This gained her a little smirk.

"That's not that bad."

"It's quite frustrating actually." She folded her hands across her chest and blew a stranded hair away from her face. "I don't know what to think of you. Killing Dumbledore..." His eyes darkened, and she forced herself to speak more calmly, scared that she might spook him. "it was so out of character for who I thought you were." She felt her eyes tear up, devastated by her admission.

A part of him wanted to tell her everything there and then. To finally get the block of his shoulders and share the load with somebody else. But the other part - the one that had saved him time and again - refused to budge. Refused to trust.

With downcast eyes he shook his head.

"I wish I could tell you. I really do." He looked up again and gave her a sad smile. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but it's all I have to give for now."

"Do you think you will tell me the whole story someday?"

"Maybe."

"What can you tell me then?"

"That I take our marriage seriously." He lifted his hand, as if he wanted to touch her arm, but let the hand fall down to his side again. With everything that had just transpired between them, he didn't know if she'd welcome his touch again. "If it's within my power, I want to keep you safe. I know I can't give you all that you want, and probably need, but you can count on me."

She could see that he'd meant it.

And his sincerity touched a place in her heart that she didn't know existed.

Afraid to say something wrong, she carefully placed a hand on his upper arm and squeezed it lightly. "Thank you."

He gave her a firm nod in return. As if to underline what he'd just said.

Cora let her breath out, unaware that she'd been holding it. A part of her wanted to tell him that she too took this marriage seriously, but she still wasn't sure if she wanted to remain married. They had a long way to go. Neither trusted the other fully, and their personalities kept crashing into each other, like a Bludger in a Quidditch match.

"We need to find some common ground," Cora stated and let go of his arm.

"How do you suggest we do that?"

"We could..." She had a look around the room, and spotting the chess board, she suddenly had an idea. "play chess. For each win, the loser has to answer a question. Relax, we can start small. Like favorite color and such."

Severus narrowed his eyes. Her proposal wasn't half bad, but he wasn't sure where she was going with this.

"On one condition," he said.

Cora listened attentively.

"No questions regarding the night at the Astronomy Tower."

"Fine."

She wasn't fine with it, but figured that it would take more than a little time for him to open up about that.

They each found a seat in front of the fireplace, Severus taking the black chess pieces and she the white ones. When he knocked out her first pawn, she waited for the smashing of the poor little fellow, but nothing happened.

"It's regular chess," he said, and removed the white piece to the side of the board. "It was my mother's."

"Nice. I know it's technically your turn to ask a question, but I have one."

"Fire away."

"Was your mother a muggle?"

He waited for her to move another pawn before he answered.

"She was a pure blood. She bought this chess set for my muggle father, but it ended up being the two of us that played instead. Your turn."

"Would you like to ask me a question before we continue?"

"No, I'll just wait until I take another player from you." He smirked nonchalantly, and Cora almost slapped him on his arm for the comment.

"Oh really?" She moved another pawn, thinking it was a clever move, but he effortlessly removed that one too.

"My turn to ask."

"Go ahead." She leaned back into the chair, irritated that he had taken another pawn from her so easily.

"What is your favorite snack?"

"Oreo."

"The black cookies?"

"Anything with an Oreo flavor." She leaned forward again and studied the board thoroughly. While contemplating how to not get further humiliated, she decided to buy herself some time. "I like Oreo cake... Oreo milkshake... regular Oreo. Anything Oreo really." She moved her white knight and took out one of his bishops. Seeing his narrowed eyes revealed that it was a good move.

"Oreo's. Noted." He thought for a long time before moving one of his rooks. "Mine's licorice, by the way." He took out her white knight and smirked.

"Uh-uh, that's cheating!"

"I did not cheat!" He looked at her bewildered.

"Yes, you did." She leaned forward and blinked two theatrical times. "It was my turn to ask a question."

"Fine." He huffed.

Cora smiled. "Let me see." Had he been one of her friends, she would have rummaged their mind and figured out their next move. But since his mind shields were as strong as hers, he presented her with a real challenge. And she liked it.

"What kind of music do you like?" She took one of his pawns with one of her own. "I figure you're either a metal-person or a classical-person."

"Is that so?" This time it was his turn to think for a while. He knew that if he moved the knight and then his queen, he would have her at check mate, but he wanted the game to last longer. "I like both, but I prefer jazz." He moved his bishop instead and waited for her response.

"We could listen to some now, if you like?"

He nodded, and with a flick of his wand the miniature gramophone on one of the shelves began to play.

Cora didn't recognize the tune that suddenly filled the living room, but she appreciated the melody coming from the soft saxophone. It was melancholic, yet peaceful.

She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sound. When she opened them again she could see that another pawn was gone, and he was dangerously close to her king.

"Hey! How did you do that?"

Severus didn't reply, just smirked back at her. For a couple of more moves, they knocked out each other's players in silence. Both too focused to speak.

"Your turn to ask a question," Cora said, trying to distract him from his next move, but she failed. So did her king.

"Do you want a rematch?"

"Yes."

They set up the board again, and this time Cora was determined to win.

After another hour of playing, she had lost again. However, with more dignity than the first time. On the other hand she had learned that in addition to liking licorice and jazz, he was a cat person, his favorite season was autumn, he'd always wanted to see the cherry blossom in Japan and he'd grown up in an abusive home.

The latter made her heart ache for him, despite him saying it as if it was nothing. It was anything but.

"How was it like to grow up in an orphanage? If you don't mind me asking."

They'd set the chess board aside and now enjoyed two heavier drinks - he a glass of Firewhiskey and she a glass of Bailey's.

"It wasn't half bad," she replied, curling her feet up into the comfortable chair and resting the glass on her knee. "In many ways it resembled Hogwarts."

"How come?" The thought seemed to amuse him.

"I used to share a bedroom with two other girls, Maisie and Holly, and they were nice. All of us were taken care of by adults that wasn't our parents, but tried to give us what we needed. Every meal was shared in a dining hall - although the little chefs here are way better." She smiled. "And when we went to school, we had to put up with brats that mocked us for not having parents." She had a sip of the sweet beverage, trying to drink the memories away.

"You never told me about that." He looked almost offended.

"I didn't want to be a bother," she said sadly. "besides, that all changed when everyone heard about who my real parents were."

"You don't sound too pleased about that change."

"No, because it wasn't much of a change." She leaned her tired head against the edge of the chair. "I was still different."

"I'm sorry I wasn't of more help to you back then." Had he known, he would have looked more out for her. Made sure she had a better time at Hogwarts than he had in his junior years. He scolded himself for not being more attentive.

"But you were!" Cora sat up more straight and placed her drink on the mahogany coffee table. It was paramount for her to make him understand. "You were steady, firm and just, and I always knew where I had you. I also felt that you saw me, and that when things got rough, I had a safe place to be."

Now it was Severus time to blink away tears. For someone to see so much in him, was simply outstanding. He knew his emotions were slightly heightened by the amount of alcohol he had consumed, but still her words felt good to his battered soul. Then it dawned on him. "That's why Dumbledore's death bothers you so much; you don't know if you have that safety anymore."

Cora nodded slowly in reply.

Severus looked at her and wished he could come up with something clever to say. Something that would ease her mind and give her that safety back. But for all the words in his great vocabulary, there were few that would suffice.

"You still do."

His simple statement, earned him a little smile.