12 Grimmauld Place

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He didn't tell me a time to meet him there, so I thought it best to keep our current schedule and try for the morning. I woke up before sunrise, got dressed, and nibbled on a muffin I swiped from the Great Hall yesterday. I thought it was going to be a pain to walk all the way off school property to apparate, but it was a lovely morning, the breeze cool and the castle grounds peaceful. The walk did wonders for my nerves.

When I passed the Quidditch pitch I caught a glimpse of Hogwarts before apparating. The school, and my arm, were both back to how they were a week ago - but the memory of their destruction clung to me. I shook it off.

12 Grimmauld Place, I had the address memorized now, and destroyed the paper this morning so no one could follow us. I apparated perfectly even though I was lacking practice, and found myself on a doorstep in a very practical looking neighborhood. I knocked on the door.

It swung open and I was pulled - no, yanked-  inside before I even knew what was happening, his hand grasping my collar.

"Sorry, have to be careful. My name hasn't been cleared yet."

I guess his love for theatrics extended to greetings as well. I followed him further into his house, squinting to see anything in the darkness. Severus aimed his wand at the fireplace built into a bookshelf, and after the room was filled with the flickering light and warmth, motioned at me to sit in the chair. He disappeared into the kitchen, and gave me time to settle in and take in my surroundings before emerging again with a tray for tea. I liked the room, though dark it was very tidy, and comfortable. I don't know what I found more startling, how domestic this was, or the sight of Snape without his robes. He was still dressed in all black, but he looked much more casual today. Even his body language was less tense, the wrinkles usually prominent on his forehead smoothed out.

He sat across from me, crossing his legs in that way men do, and we sipped our tea. The silence between us was surprisingly comfortable, even though everything about this interaction should feel strange.

His teacup slid into his saucer without a sound, and he looked over at me, "sorry we had to meet here, McGonagall thinks it best for me to stay hidden. This place is protected under a secret keeper, me. Only a handful of people know about it."

I nodded hesitantly. I could die here, and I'd only have McGonagall to count on to find me. But I liked those odds. I always found her strength and capability intimidating. Even at her age, I knew she could take on almost any wizard. Even Snape, but I doubt it would come to that. Her judgement is admirable too, and if she was on his side, there's no reason I shouldn't be.

He must have read my mind because he reassured me, "I'm not trying to scare you. What I meant is that... I trust you."

I lowered the teacup from my face, and met his eyes. They looked soft. Vulnerable. I changed the subject, "so this is your house then? It's nice. Cozy."

"Not exactly," he said, looking around. "It was given to me, since I needed a secure place to stay. There are lots of angry parents out there who would do far worse to me than Voldemort ever could."

I laughed. Snape was joking with me, even if it was true. "Well, if it's of any consolation, mine have no quarrel with you."

He eyed me warily, "muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, but neither paid much attention to where I was or how I was doing." I said with a humorous tone and empty smile, not letting it sound as bad as it felt.

"I thought it was something like that." He said matter-of-factly. "My parents were the same, their differences came between them, and they neglected me because of it," I wanted to reach out and put my hand on his, but he seated us too far apart. Maybe this is why.

I waited for him to change the topic, but he only dove deeper, "my father hated me for my magic, and pushed me away. He fell in love with my mother for hers, but pushed her away too. I hated him for it. I thought muggles were weak, and spiteful." He took a deep breath, "when I went to Hogwarts, I discovered dark magic. At first I wanted to learn about it to defend myself, but it quickly turned into a way to gain power over not just muggles, but other wizards. My hate festered. It's what led me join Voldemort."

"I understand. That's enough to make anyone angry." I consoled him.

"No, not anyone," he argued. "Not you."

I gave him a confused look, and he jumped into an explanation that had to have been prepared.

"You were thrown into the same darkness I was, but you didn't let it devour you. You became your own light." He paused, "you remind me of her, the woman I loved. The one that Voldemort took. She had your light, your passion. Both of you were able to see the good in me even though I don't deserve it."

"Severus, there's good and bad in all of us. You choose who you want to be."

Hurt filled his eyes, and he moved from the chair to crouch in front of me, "but you can see it, the good in me?"

I held his face in my hands, "yes, and it's beautiful." I spoke truthfully, loving what I see before me more and more with each meeting. This wasn't The Dark Lord's servant, the kid who wanted power at any price, or even the boy who hated his father. All that anger had eaten him up, and what was left now was a desire to be better. That's all any of us can do.

He blinked away the remaining tears, and lowered his head into my lap. I ran my fingers through his long black hair, wishing it had been washed in the past decade, but deciding it wasn't the time to bring that up.

My Professor, my Headmaster, and now my Severus, was sitting at my feet, pleading for forgiveness. I vowed to give it to him.

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