Here's Chapter 13. Yes, yes, I know, it's already here! What a miracle! To be honest, I've already written the fanfiction up to Chapter 32! I just need the motivation to post them! I'll try to be more consistent.

A big thank you to the few readers who have added this fanfiction to their favorites. It really means a lot to me!

Just a reminder—if this fanfiction is rated M, it's for a reason.

If you're more comfortable with French, I've also posted the fanfiction in French.

Happy reading!

Chapter 13

Mio lifted her gaze to Snape, questioning him silently, her eyes flicking between the radio on the table and the man sitting in the armchair across from her. But he remained silent. She finally broke the silence:

— I didn't know this broadcast existed! It's wonderful! They're so brave!

Then, after a short pause, she added:

— Have you been listening to it for a long time, Professor? I mean, have you known about this radio for a while?

— Yes. Contrary to what you may think, I never left the Order, he replied, his tone rather cold.

Mio initially felt ashamed, as if caught off guard, but she quickly regained her composure and retorted sharply:

— Oh no, no, no! You can't blame me for this one! You can't fault me for having doubts about your allegiance!

She paused, staring at him intensely, her breathing quick. Then she continued:

— These past months, the only interactions we had were when I helped you punish or torture students! And I did it! I did it because I wanted to keep believing in you, believing that you would do everything to kill Vol— well, to kill You-Know-Who.

— And what did you expect? That I would openly protect you all the time, ruining the best cover the Order has for spying? he replied.

— That's not what I'm asking! she shot back.

— Then what? One moment, you blame me for always wanting to help you, to save you, and now you're blaming me for leaving you these past few months? I know this may be hard for you, but you're going to have to start thinking, Miss Weasley, he said sarcastically.

— You're despicable…

— Despicable? That's funny. It's not the impression you had of me when we were kissing.

A silent tear rolled down the young woman's cheek. The man knew exactly what to say to hurt her.

— Then why did you save me one last time earlier? Because even if I'm a blood traitor, I'm still a pureblood? Is that it?

— Pff, don't be ridiculous. All this blood purity nonsense is utter rubbish!

— Then WHY?! she screamed. Why push me away only to force me to stay right after?

— Oh, but I never forced you to keep helping me!

— Do you really think I have a choice?!

They were now both standing, face to face, in the middle of the living room.

— We always have a choice! he replied.

— The same choice you made when you decided to become a Death Eater in the first war?!

— Stop! You can't talk about things you know nothing about!

— Oh! she laughed bitterly. That's right, I don't know that feeling, that situation—when everyone you love sees you as the villain while all you're trying to do is protect them… No, of course not, that's definitely not what I'm going through. Yes, of course, Mio, you had a choice! Help the ones you love from the shadows or get killed! Yes, what a choice. But, what can I say? I'm a Slytherin. I'm a coward…

A heavy silence filled the room. They stared at each other—Mio, her breathing quick and uneven, Snape, his expression dark and furious.

— The choice may have been difficult, but you still made it.

— Pfff… Just like the choice you made to never truly pick a side?

— I forbid you from questioning my true intentions!

— Your true intentions?! Oh, come on, Snape, be realistic, open your eyes: one moment, you seem to enjoy torturing children, and the next, you loudly proclaim your love for the Order and Dumbledore—the very man you killed, I might add!

— You know very well that's not true! I took no pleasure in my recent actions!

After a brief pause, he continued:

— And even if I wanted to switch sides, I owe you no explanation. We're not married, engaged, or even a couple. That kiss went to your head, and I regret it more with each passing day! Now, I think I won't interfere in anything concerning you anymore—my life will be much simpler that way! I suppose if the Weasleys turned their backs on you, it's because they realized far earlier than I did the sad truth: you're nothing but a troublemaker whose only talent is attracting problems!

— DON'T YOU DARE BRING THEM INTO THIS! You know NOTHING about my life with the Weasleys! You know what? Let me repeat what everyone dreams of telling you to your face: you're just a bitter old man, a greasy bastard. You're not even forty, yet you want to make everyone believe you've had such a hard life that left you no choices. But the truth is, you're just an asshole. Yeah, that's right, an asshole who saw me as an easy little distraction.

Mio stepped away from him and moved toward the door, opening it. She hesitated but turned back one last time.

— You don't want anything to do with me anymore? I'll make it easy for you—I'm leaving! I'm so fucking done with all of this! If I stay, I'll get raped; if I leave, I'll get killed! But I already said it: I'm a coward. So I'd rather die running than be tortured for people like you WHO COULDN'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME!

Mio had screamed those last words. Her face was soaked with tears, her chest heaving as she tried to suppress her sobs and hiccups. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails were digging into her palms.

— Uh… came a hesitant little voice behind her.

Snape turned his gaze away from the young woman to look at the source of the voice. Neville Longbottom stood in the doorway.

— I… uh… Professor… you… well… I have what you asked for. And since the door was open! I mean, I know this is bad timing, but uh… I needed to give it to you.

Neville stepped forward and handed Snape a small package wrapped in brown paper. Mio sniffled, staring at the surreal scene before her—Neville and Snape, almost courteous.

— Yes, yes, thank you, Mr. Longbottom.

— I know you're, uh… busy right now, but… you shouldn't wait too long before using it.

— Yes, Snape replied simply.

— Ah, so now I'm not enough for you anymore? Mio cut in. You need to find other people to torment? For fuck's sake, you can't go after Neville! What did you do to him? WHAT ARE YOU THREATENING HIM WITH?

— SHUT UP! You manage to spout more nonsense in a minute than a drunk Bowtruckle!

Mio was facing him, her tear-streaked face now twisted with rage. Her fists clenched even tighter, her nails digging even deeper. Small drops of blood now beaded on her palms. Neville, standing between the two of them, had no idea what to do.

— Professor, Neville interjected, maybe you should tell her?

Snape turned his dark gaze to the young man. Neville summoned all his Gryffindor courage and continued:

— We'll need constant monitoring of the potion. She could take shifts with you.

The Potions Master seemed to think for a moment before nodding. It was true—Mio had been one of the best students he had ever taught in Potions at Hogwarts. She could be useful.

— Very well, I will show her. Leave us, Mr. Longbottom. I will inform you of our success or failure with this new ingredient.

Neville thanked Snape, cast a reassuring glance at Mio, then left.

The young blonde was still standing in the middle of the living room, her hands bloodied, her breath punctuated by hiccups, sobs, and sniffles. Snape looked at her, sighed, then walked toward what Mio guessed was the bathroom. He returned about thirty seconds later with what seemed to be a first aid kit.

— Sit down, he ordered coldly.

Too exhausted to argue, the young woman obeyed. Severus joined her, took her hands, and gently pried open her fingers. He then methodically disinfected the wounds, applied some kind of ointment, and wrapped them in bandages. Once he was done, he stood up and told her to follow him to his office.