Severus woke to the jolting sound of shattering glass. His body jolting awake in an instant. He was out of bed with his feet taking him towards the source of the sound before his brain even properly processed his change in position. He stepped into the bathroom just in time for his brain to process the sight before him, his actions on pure instinct alone.

"Stop." His voice was a sharp bark, of warning and concern. His hands took her wrists in a bruising grip before pulling her back from the counter that was now covered in the shattered mirror.

Her hands had come up to claw at the fragile skin around her eyes, a look of pure anguish on her face. Her cry was silent, the mark of someone who had truly felt what it meant to feel their soul shatter. Her protests to his hold were sharp and grating. Her wrists strongly pulling against his grip in an attempt to continue their destruction. He thumped her hard against his bare chest her head knocking against his breastbone as he forced his hand over her eyes.

Hermione let out a small cry of pain, her hands coming up to try and pull his down, having pulled her wrist free from his clutch that had now shifted to holding her around her chest to keep her in place. Her desperate struggle turned to defeat, her body falling back heavily into his embrace. Her mouth opened and closed speaking the nonsense of a mind that could no longer tell the light from the dark but his hold on her never wavered.

Severus could feel the stickiness of blood under his hand, her nails had torn the skin no doubt, having left tracks on his own hand. He backed her away from the mess she'd made, his chest still heaving from the shock of what he'd found. As her weight grew, his hold over her eyes relaxed, slowly pulling back to check the damage. As he did, her head turned, hiding.

A deep sob rippled all the way down her frame and into his own, his eyes turning towards the heavens as he walked them back away from the mess she'd made. His hold relaxing only so much as to allow her to turn. When her warmth wrapped around his back and her nails dug into his scars he found himself at a loss of what he could possibly do.

Hermione couldn't have cared about their state of undress, though it was nearly impossible not to feel his morning condition against her stomach. Even so, the observation was hardly anything of concern as the weight of her wrongdoings pressed against her even harder. She turned her claws into paws when she felt her fingers dip into a hole of ripped away muscle that was one of his scars and felt his breath hitch. She didn't want to hurt him, she could never hurt him. Yet still, she had. She was sure.

She had no more tears, though she had desperately tried to cry, nothing had come. She had tried to bring them with pain, the pain she should have felt for all she'd done but still, she had nothing to shed, having bled herself dry just the night before when she laid under the starry sky of heaven waiting for her own justice to come.

Her hands came up, hooking over his shoulders as the weight of her body sagged against him completely, her nose taking in the smell of him just warmed from bed. His hand came to the back of her head, pressing her ear even tighter into his heart, his rapidly beating heart. The sound drowning out everything that was raging like a storm inside her.

"I killed them...I killed them...all of them..." Her words fell past her lips without filter, "They're dead..."

"Who...?" Severus tilted his head down trying to see into her face, his hand pushing back her hair that was sticking over her cheeks from the small crimson rivers she had created.

"All of them...Without cause I just..." Hermione thumped her head against his collarbone as his hold relaxed. Her hands came from under his arms to rest on his chest, quivering with the unknown. When his hands didn't leave her but rather came to take her by the arms, she managed to lift her head just enough to feel his eyes on her face though she couldn't open her eyes.

"Who?" Severus wanted to shake her for giving his heart such a kick start so early in the morning. To shake some obviously lost sense into some bone in her body. All of this over a few deaths? Didn't she know how many were dying by the day? Of course, she didn't, he hadn't told her anything of the world beyond the safety of the walls in which they now stood. He hadn't told her of the dangers she would face when trying to run her fool's errand.

Hermione shook her head, she didn't even know any of their names.

His hands came to her head, gently tilting it back further, "Look at me." Severus lightly pressed his thumbs just under her eyes, his own dark with the knowledge of what he'd seen, surely her aftermath. But what had provoked her? What had inspired her to set an entire cavern aflame?

"No...I can't...I..."

"Look at me." His voice was stronger now, his hold on her cheek just a bit tighter.

Hermione opened her eyes despite her desire to never look into his again. She didn't want to see the shame on his face, the disappointment. It would tear out what was left of her heart but at this point, she had nothing left. When her eyes did finally meet his, she found not a shred of what she'd been expecting, rather just a deep concern for her well being. A sort of concern she had never seen from another so deeply.

Severus pressed into her mind as gently as possible but it was a mess of images, some of which he couldn't even make out. What was more pressing than the visual was the mixture of emotions that was tearing her logical mind in two. Splitting her personality asunder. A warrior and a school girl fighting for control inside her. Trying to balance the scales. It was an impossible task.

"Enough." Severus lowered his hands to her shoulders, "I said enough." Her mind was still screaming out inside his skull, begging him for an answer to questions he had no business answering. He was only a man.

Hermione's teeth clacked hard together, cutting off her words for forgiveness. His shake firm but enough to gather her attention. Her head shook slowly, clearing out the mess that was pushing all other logical thought from her mind when his hand returned, his thumb pressing into her temple easing away the pain in her heart.

"Let's get you cleaned up..." Severus' words ghosted along her forehead, his silent spell easing the tension in the room. It would not fix what was at war inside her but it would calm the fires for now. He was not the one to speak of the morality of choice as he'd never been given anything but orders to follow. He was not the man to whom she should seek her answers.

A small wave of his hand removed the mirror that had been broken, a small step moved her closer to the counter so that he could pick up the cloth set along the edge. She'd not done too much damage that it couldn't heal on its own.

oOo

Hermione walked slowly towards the chair beside the fire. Her arms wrapped around her waist holding the dressing gown around her frame. Snape had given her a cup of tea to calm her mind and body following their little affair in the bathroom. He'd not said a word after he cleaned her face. Leaving her side for only a moment to fetch her something to cover herself before taking his leave.

It was still early in the morning, barely just enough time for the sun to have risen, she hadn't known where he'd gone and hadn't the mind to ask. Her face hurt, but it was hardly anything new. Her hand came down to the belt that bore her dagger. A dagger she had begged for the knowledge to create. Her fingers slipping down over the beautiful hilt to the leather sheath that held it in place.

A slow curl of her lips against her teeth brought her fingers around the hilt. The blade came out smoothly, silently, the silver metal stained brown. She brought it up, closer to her eyes, her vision still a bit tunneled from the damage she'd caused that morning. She hadn't known why she had reacted so strongly to her own visage, but just as the time in the market, she had felt outside of her own control.

What was she even doing? There was something to be said about getting what one wished for, was this it? Was this the repercussions of an ill-wish made by an ignorant school girl? Had she unknowingly set in motion something she had no ability to control? Did she have any choices left? Or had she already lost herself to the darkness she had fought so valiantly against?

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's head turned but only a fraction to the voice at the door. Her shoulders turning slightly as she pushed the blade back into its sheath, "Y-yes?" She swallowed down her stutter trying to make herself stand taller. Her eyes blinking the man who had saved her time and time again into focus.

"There is someone whom I wish for you to speak to." Severus lowered his head as he made room in the doorway, an old and very familiar face coming through the frame.

Hermione's jaw opened slowly, her brow ticking with confusion and emotion she could not name, "Professor McGonagall..."

"Oh, my sweet child..." Still in her dressing gown herself, wrapped in a cloak to keep out the castle's chill, Minerva made towards the girl who was so clearly broken that she could almost see the shattered pieces clearly for herself. What had the powers that be done to the child who had sat so full of promise and hope for so many years inside her classroom?

Hermione's face pinched with shame as the woman whom she had always held in such high respects crossed over the space between them. Her hands curled around herself as to make herself smaller, so as not to be seen by a woman so virtuous. When the elder's soft hands lightly pushed back her hair from her face she could only take a stuttered breath, her eyes turning to the man of shadow beyond her shoulder.

Minerva held the rigid girl gently in her embrace, she didn't need any extra senses to feel the stress wrapping tight around the girl's frame. She had been so surprised when Severus had come knocking on her chamber door. He had said very little on their walk but she could tell by his face that it had been serious.

Minerva gently brushed away the hidden tears along the bottom of Hermione's lashes before gently guiding her to sit down beside the fire. Though she did notice how her head tracked Severus' retreat into the office. He had never been keen about matters of the heart, but she had to commend him for coming to find her. It was a level of trust that she didn't know she had gained but she wouldn't waste the opportunity.

"Severus has told me a little of what's happened..." Minerva spoke gently, taking her seat. Her eyes turning towards the jacket and cloak that rested over the arm of the chair she had taken.

"I killed them..." Hermione lowered her head down to her hands that had taken to resting in her lap, her fingers idly picking at the beds of her nails where just a bit of blood remained.

"Who?"

"Everyone...in the market..." Hermione spoke slowly, her voice filled with disgrace, her head too heavy to raise her eyes. She awaited her judgment. That was why Snape had gone, unable to look upon her himself.

"What market?" She'd not heard of anything.

"I don't know...I found it...in the wastes..."

"What were you doing there?"

"Looking for Harry and Ron..." Hermione took a slow breath, chewing on the corner of her lip.

"Was this...something you chose to do for yourself?"

"No...I was...asked to do it..." Hermione glanced up through her lashes, amazed by how calm the woman before her sounded. It was as though they were merely discussing the weather.

"By whom?"

"Professor Dumbledore..."

"I see..." Minerva crossed her legs, leaning back into the chair just a bit to give the girl a bit of much-needed space, "And it was on this mission that you...?"

Hermione's face pinched, her eyes flicking towards the dagger hanging off the side of Professor McGonagall's chair, "I stabbed a man..." A deep breath raised her chest and her head.

Minerva regarded her carefully, her eyes narrowing just a bit, "What had he done?"

"Done?"

"You surely don't expect me to believe that you would attack a man for the mere experience of it?"

Hermione's lip quirked just a little at her phrasing but she didn't raise her eyes, "No, he uh...he had a girl with him...a prisoner..."

"Was he...one of the men who had taken you?" Minerva could make her own logical assumptions for such a strong reaction from her brightest pupil.

"I..." Hermione ran her hands over her face, the same path the man had taken before her world had gone black, "Yes...he was." Hermione lowered her hands back into her lap closing her eyes, "Professor...I...I don't even remember doing it...one moment I was just standing there...and then...my blade was in his stomach..."

Minerva turned her head slowly towards the dagger resting beside her before she turned her eyes kindly back to the troubled young woman, "You acted on instinct."

"I suppose..." Hermione licked her lips swallowing down the taste of ash that still coated her throat, "I took the girl..."

"Took her? Took her where?"

"Fred and Geroge's..."

"And then?" She was sure had the girl stayed behind, she wouldn't be sitting there before her now. No, she was quite certain the entire balance of power would have shifted.

"I went back..."

"Whatever for?"

"I wanted to find Harry and Ron...to do what I was supposed to do...I was told they were in the area...I knew I had to find them...complete the task that I'd been given..."

"And did you?"

"No..." Hermione shook her head closing her eyes tight, the sound of screams filling her ears, "I...went back to the market...I...I killed them...I killed them all..."

"How?" Minerva could barely swallow down the pain that had built in her throat at such innocence that had been lost before her.

"Fire..." Hermione raised her eyes, looking straight into the woman whom she had admired for so many years, "Fiendfyre."

Minerva swallowed slowly, her eyes never wavering from the haunted look that nearly swallowed her whole.

"I killed them without cause..."

"No, you killed them because you believed it to be right." Minerva's chin rose with the strength of her words. She wouldn't allow her to fall into the deep abyss of wartime morality. She had seen far too many good women and men fall prey to its paradox.

"What purpose do right and wrong serve if anyone can just decide where the line can be drawn?" Hermione could feel her chest growing tight, though she did not look away.

"Well, that is the question, isn't it? That is where we stand today. Those who have drawn their lines, crossing over others who are not like themselves. Morality and honor defined by those in power. Yet we must remember the basic truths. The core of magic. That is a duty to all who practice it to do whatever they can to ensure the preservation of nature.

This war may not be our own, yet if we sit aside, we are just as to blame as those who set fire to all we hold precious—It is our connection with other people, our drive to protect what our hearts hold dear that we must remember.

You should mourn their loss, but never forget the innocent lives you spared by your actions. Lives of those who did not have the strength to fight for themselves." Minerva moved to the edge of her chair, her hand reaching out to cover Hermione's own, taking it firmly in her grip, "You saved lives. Never forget that."

oOo

Severus raised his heavy head to the sound of his chamber door opening. His heart heavy as he came to his feet, his tongue twitched to speak but still, he had nothing he could possibly say. As Minerva let the door silently close behind her he felt his chest falling just a bit by the weight in her eyes. His head lowered as she approached, his chest twitching to the weight of her hand over his heart.

"I think it is time you share your scars with her Severus, it is time for her to know the truth about who you are, and all you stand for. Even if you do not understand it yourself. You must tell her all that you have come to know. Even if it scares you." Minerva gave him a hard look, her words hanging heavy in the silence between them before she let her hand fall back to her side. Without so much as a glance back, she calmly made her way towards the exit. Merlin help them all.

Severus had turned to watch her leave, perplexed by her words. She had seen his scars, all of them. How would telling the stories of how they came to be, have any benefit to the situation they now found themselves in? How would sharing just how much blood laid on his hands help wash away the blood that now covered hers? How could the sins of one man bring back the innocence of a child?