Confrontation

Hermione stood unsteadily before her deliberately non-magical full-length mirror, studying herself critically. She wore the dark blue robes of the Special Investigations Division. Her hair was knotted firmly in a bun on the back of her head. She had intentionally omitted her makeup and perfume regime from her morning routine, wanting to appear as impersonal as possible.

Because this is not a personal visit, she reminded herself again. I am going as a favour to Solomon. Purely professional. And make sure he knows that. Knows that I am not there for him.

Her steady internal monologue did little to relieve her nerves. She had not seen Severus Snape since that night in his office, so long ago. When he'd kissed her, and she'd told him she loved him.

In the years following Snape's arrest and conviction, Hermione had concluded that he must have cared something for her. She would have willingly and eagerly gone to bed with him that night, but he'd denied her, forcing her from his rooms. He had known at the time he was talking to her, at the time he was kissing her, that he was going to murder nine innocent people that night. What had he said to her?

You will come to regret it.

She hadn't believed him then, but she did now. Had she slept with him, it would have driven her mad. He had spared her, she imagined, due to some misguided feelings he had for her.

Hermione shook her head, and the stern, unforgiving woman in the mirror shook her head. She looked forbidding enough, she supposed. As long as she didn't cry when she saw him.

All too soon, her timepiece read 7:50. Ten minutes separated her from the man who had condemned her to a life of lonely, solitary existence.

Hermione Granger, strong-willed, loyal, and driven by thoughts of perfection, did not fall in love lightly. She did not fall out of love lightly either. It had taken her five years before she could think of him without her heart aching.

Despite the fact that Severus Snape was a heartless murderer who deserved his life sentence in Azkaban, Hermione found that she still judged every man she ever met by him. And in the years since she had fallen in love with him, no one had even come close.

With one last glance at the woman in the mirror, Hermione Apparated to the appropriate Azkaban Apparition point.

******

"You'll need to check your wand, ma'am."

Hermione stared at the guard blankly. It was bad enough she had to see Snape again, but to see him wandless? Impossible.

"Is that necessary?"

"I'm afraid it is. New Ministry standards, after Draco Malfoy broke his father out of here. About a year ago, that was. You'll have read about it in the papers." The guard's voice was apologetic. "Snape doesn't have a wand, either, ma'am. Of course."

"Fine. I'll check my wand. Has... Have you cleared the area of Dementors?"

The guard nodded, his baby-fine hair gleaming unnaturally in the aberrant lighting of the prison. After the Great War, in which Dementors sided and fought with Voldemort, the Ministry of Magic reorganized its only wizarding prison to assure the law-abiding citizens that there would not be another mass break-out. Only a handful of Dementors now guarded the imposing structure, and they were there mostly to ensure that none of the prisoners became too happy. Human prison guards were appointed in the Dementors' stead. It was normal procedure to clear the area of Dementors when prisoners were visited or interrogated, but Hermione wanted to be sure. She had no desire to relive her worst memories in such a place as this.

After checking her wand at the front desk, Hermione followed the guard into Azkaban. Having never been in the prison before, her natural curiosity overcame her fear and trepidation. She tried to see where she was and where she was going, but she only received a vague impression of darkness and cold. At one point, she thought that she heard someone screaming uncontrollably. The air smelled of sweat, mildew, and fear. The ground oozed uncomfortably beneath her feet. She felt disoriented and wondered briefly what sort of magic was at work in this forsaken place.

"It's a powerful charm, ma'am," the guard whispered, as if reading her thoughts. "That's why you can't really see where you are. It's to prevent the prisoners from escaping, you see, and from others helping them out. Also a new Ministry standard."

His voice dropped in volume, and Hermione realized he was trying to sound mysterious.

"If you, for example, ma'am, and not that you would do such a thing... but if you were to break into Azkaban with the intentions of smuggling out a loved one...not that you have loved ones in here, ma'am, I didn't mean that. But if you did... you would wander in the dark and the fog for days until you went mad from it all."

Hermione shivered. "How can you find where you are going, then?"

His chest puffed out with pride. "You can get a security clearance to work around the magic. I've got one." He smiled smugly.

At last, they reached a dark corridor. The guard took his wand and undid the powerful wards surrounding a locked door. With an ominous creak, the door came open.

"He's right in through there, ma'am. Now, don't be worried. He'll still be behind bars, where he belongs."

With a sweep of his hand, he urged her to go through the door.

"My name's Isaac, ma'am. Isaac Asril. Push the button when you're ready to leave, and I'll come get you."

Hermione nodded at him and, with a shaky breath, stepped through the door.

******

Her first thought as she saw him standing so impossibly near her was that he really should eat more, for the sake of his health. Severus Snape had always been lean, but the years in Azkaban had whittled him away to a speck of the man he used to be. The standard issue gray prison suit hung off his body loosely, revealing an expanse of his pale chest and the sickly hue of his skin. His black hair was now shoulder-length, and the stubble on his cheeks suggested it had been at least a week since his last shower. Hermione quickly compared him to the image of him she had in her mind. He looked smaller, weaker. A flash of pity surged through her. She closed her eyes and forced herself to think of the two small children he had killed.

"Miss Granger." His voice was raspy and hoarse from lack of use.

"Professor Snape," she said levelly.

"Please, have a seat." He gestured towards a small chair located in front of his cage. "I believe Isaac brought this in here earlier. Thoughtful of him, really."

She nervously brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and sat down. Nodding at her, Snape sat on the floor of his cell, curling his legs under him.

"Now. It has been a while, Hermione. I must confess I am a bit disappointed in you."

She winced at the sound of her name. "And why is that, Professor?"

"You never stormed in here full of your righteous anger, demanding to know why I did what I did." His voice was tinged with hints of amusement, but behind his casual demeanour, Hermione sensed an honest question. He wanted to know why she never came to see him, demanding an explanation. Interesting.

"I viewed the Pensieve for your case, Professor. I am quite aware why you killed those people."

His eyes gleamed. "Of course you are, Hermione. I expected nothing less from my best and brightest student."

He leaned forward suddenly, his face coming disturbingly close to hers. She pushed her chair back.

He laughed darkly. "So. Why have you come here, then?" He closed his eyes, and a smile played on his lips. "I believe you told me once that if we both survived the War, then I could take you and keep you as my own. Is that why you are here, Hermione? Did you come here so I could make you mine?"

She exhaled sharply. "No," she whispered, and though she intended the word to be fierce and angry, it sounded weak and sad to her ears.

"Ah. I expect that particular promise of yours died with those nine people all these years ago."

"It did." At that moment, Hermione realized that she must have never truly known her professor. He sat there, so calm and quiet and not the least bit remorseful.

"Then I'll ask you again. Why are you here, Hermione? What do you want?"

Hermione, if she was at all honest with herself, wanted to scream and yell at him, to tell him she wanted nothing more than to rewind time so she could make him stay with her that night, so he never would have killed those people, so she could marry him and love him and take him away from this awful place.

"I need your help."

"The inestimable Miss Granger needs my help. Interesting. Oh, I forgot to ask. It is still 'Miss Granger,' is it not? Or have you gone and married the Weasley boy?" His eyes narrowed, and Hermione noticed that his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. As if he still had the right to care about her.

"No, it's still Miss Granger. Or Auror Granger, if you prefer."

He glanced quickly at the insignia on the front of her robes.

"You work for the Ministry, Hermione," he stated. "In all of the scenarios I have imagined, never did I dream that you would be working for the Ministry. And how do you like it?"

"It suits me."

"And that is why you are here? Need some help with a case, I see."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I need help with a case." She reached into her pocket and withdrew the small flask with the mysterious black potion. Solomon had given it to her this morning.

"I assume you've heard of the recent serial murders. The 'Angel of Death' case."

He shook his head. "I no longer concern myself with the outside world. It makes no difference to me, in here."

Hermione widened her eyes in surprise. A Severus Snape who was not semi-omniscient and cockily confident in his knowledge was... unsettling.

"I'll bring you the case file, if you like. Later. For now, I would like you to take a look at this." She carefully handed him the flask, taking time to ensure her hand did not accidentally touch his.

He examined the bottle thoughtfully, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. Hermione noticed with a pang the crease between his eyes, and for a moment she couldn't think. She had always loved that about him.

"Where did you get this? What is it?"

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she answered him.

"Four women have been murdered within the last year, Professor. That was found in their bloodstream. At this point, we are assuming that it kills them, though we don't know how. And we don't know what it is. The Potions Department analyzed it. I have their report if you're interested."

"Give it to me."

He grabbed the file from her through the bars and scanned it briefly.

"The Potions masters working for the Department. What are their names?"

"Oh. Uh, Arcadius Newblood and Sabina Clemenson."

He snorted. "I should have known. Fools, the both of them." He leaned back against the smooth concrete wall of his cell, his eyes glinting in the abnormal light. "I believe I can help you, Hermione. "

"That would be wonderful, sir. I..."

He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I believe you are getting ahead of yourself. I will help you, but I have my conditions. Consider this a... quid pro quo situation. I do this for you, you do something for me." His lips curled upward.

Hermione gasped as she felt a sudden hot longing in the pit of her stomach. Certainly he could not mean that! That would be... unethical. Immoral. She would hate herself for the rest of her life.

Snape started chuckling. "Oh, Hermione. Not that. As... attractive as you are, I have no desire to rob you of your feelings of self-worth. No, I want something else."

She flushed with embarrassment but did not look away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest. "What do you want?"

"I want you to get me out of here."

She opened her mouth to explain the impossibility of that, but he cut her off.

"Allow me to clarify, since you are having difficulties understanding what I am saying to you. I want you to find a way for me to get out of Azkaban whilst I work on this potion. Get me a lab somewhere, some books, some real food. And no Dementors. After I figure out what this is...and I will...you can take me back to this loathsome cell. That is all I ask. I will say no more until you fulfil my terms."

Severus Snape was one of the most hated Dark Wizards in Azkaban. She didn't know how her superiors would react to her request that he be released.

"I will see what I can do, sir."

"No, you will do it, Hermione. Hermione, look at me."

She complied, and the sheer force of his gaze made her shudder.

"You will do what I ask, Hermione, because you, my dear, can do anything you set your mind to."

She stared at him for the span of several heartbeats. Deciding it would be best if she left, she reached out for the large red button on the wall. Her fingers paused over it. Hating herself for her weakness, she turned back to him.

"Why did you do it, sir? Why did you ruin everything?" Her voice cracked, and she winced.

Snape leaned his head against the concrete behind him. His hair fell from his face, and she saw that he was frowning.

"Hermione. You should have asked me this years ago, you foolish girl."

When she felt the prickle of tears start behind her eyes, she pushed the button.

******

Severus watched her leave his cell with a languid interest. Seven years, it had been, since he had last seen her. He had long ago given up that she would ever visit him. But now here she was. Intriguing.

Also intriguing, he felt no desire to reach through the bars and strangle the life from her. Make her suffer one-tenth of what he had been through. No, all he felt for her was an empty sort of pity. She looked so... patented in her dark blue uniform. He did not listen to the part of his mind that insisted she also looked damnably lovely. Every bit as lovely as he remembered in his dreams.

She looked a bit miserable as well, he mused. Perhaps she had been affected.

If she managed to get him out of this place, he would help her. He could help her without becoming again affected by her warm, expressive eyes or her unrivalled intelligence. He could help her without falling in love with her again.

Severus never thought to ask himself if he had ever fallen out of love with her.

******

A/N As always, thanks to my lovely beta and the admins at TPP. Thanks also to my brilliant reviewers...I love hearing what ya'll think.