The Dark Lady (Severus x OC)

12. Snape's secret

"What were you thinking? Have you lost your mind?"

Dumbledore yelled at him furiously, and Snape did not interrupt him. He understood that the situation was complicated to explain, and if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that it had all been his fault.

He couldn't have been more of an idiot. After weeks of careful preparation and dissimulation, his secret had been discovered by the most stupid of carelessness.

The night before, he had not dared to leave the Lady alone, for fear that she would be discovered by Alecto or one of the professors in the middle of her episode of distress.

They must preserve her reputation as a cold and unflappable witch at all costs, so Snape had led her to his own quarters in the dungeons, so that she could calm down away from prying eyes.

But the Lady was very affected by what had happened, and had cried until she fell asleep, hugging his chest. Shortly after, he too had dozed off, without letting go of her. It had been a long day, and they had barely managed to take off their shoes.

But Dumbledore had barged in without warning, and found them cuddling in bed, automatically assuming the worst, and now Snape was in the headmaster's office, trying to talk to him.

"Dumbledore, you should listen to me," he implored, trying to keep his voice calm.

"What for? You have clearly allied yourself with her. I trusted you!" Dumbledore glared angrily at him with his blue eyes. "What is your plan behind all this? Do you crave power that much? Do you think seducing Voldemort's daughter will make you his favorite again?"

"Dumbledore..." Snape took a deep breath, knowing he couldn't lie or give vague excuses. At that moment, the only thing he could do was confess the truth. "She is my wife."

Dumbledore looked at him in silence, not believing his ears. He seemed to be totally petrified. Slowly, he lowered himself into his chair, without taking his eyes off the professor.

"Your wife," he repeated, astonished.

"The Dark Lord does not know."

"Since when?"

"Eight years."

Dumbledore stiffened at that.

"Then you lied to me," he accused him. "You told me you hadn't found her. You said all clues about her whereabouts were false."

"I did not lie. I was looking for the Lady, the heiress of the Dark Lord. The woman I found was someone else," Dumbledore looked at him in disbelief, and Snape felt he had to continue with his explanation. "She had changed. She lived as a muggle; she had disowned her father and her magic and left it all behind. She would never have contacted the wizarding world if it hadn't been for me," Dumbledore did not miss the hint of regret he detected in his voice.

"You could have told me."

"I swore that I would not reveal her identity. If the Dark Lord found out what she had done, he would kill her."

"I do not make deals with lord Voldemort," Dumbledore reminded him, his voice dangerously icy.

"But you would have involved the Order, and maybe the Ministry would have found about her and... By Merlin! Even I don't know why I kept the secret. But I did it and–"

"Do you love her?" Dumbledore interrupted, staring at him. Surprised, Snape hesitated.

"If I didn't, you wouldn't have found us like you did."

Dumbledore continued studying him over his half-moon glasses.

"How do you know she's not lying to you? She could be manipulating you to fight for her. How can you trust her?"