Things Better Left Unsaid (Snape love story)

Chapter Twenty Nine: After All These Years

He seemed to contemplate that for only a second. "I came here for a moment of peace." He said horsely. "But, it looks as if I won't be getting it."

I couldn't tell if that was an insult, or just plain honesty. My mind was too busy to think about that, though. Here I was, alone with him, in a section in the castle that no one would come into. This is what I've been waiting for for so long. There are two different paths I could take here. I could either talk to him and attempt to get some answers, or I could throw myself at him in a fit of passion.

I thought of Fred. Looks like talking is my way to go for now. I cleared my throat. "Can you just tell me something?" I asked, hopeful that he would at least hear me out.

It was a shot in the dark, but Snape was being civil with me so far, so maybe it would be okay. "You can ask, but that by no means entitles me to answer." He responded, voice partly monotonous, per usual.

I held bak a snort. Typical Severus Snape. This was it, this I what I've been rehearsing in my mind for over two years. This was my chance to ask him. I found myself suddenly nervous. "Why did you just leave me the way you did?" I finally said, my words almost forceful.

Snape looked a little taken aback by my outright question, though he remained blank-faced. "You wouldn't understand it."

A small incredulous laugh escaped me. "Here we go again. Two years later, and you still treat me like an insolent child." I exhaled.

However, Snape didn't snap back at me. He didn't hiss, or clench his jaw in irritation. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you weren't one."

I swallowed hard. I couldn't, and he knew that. "You didn't have to treat me like one. You didn't have to string me along." I said, my voice beginning to quiver. It hurt a lot more than I thought it would, saying all this aloud. I've rehearsed this scene in my mid so many times, and I always saw myself being angry, accusing. Yet, now that I'm in this situation, I could feel the years of angry longing swelling behind my eyes.

"I did what I had to do, Philomena. You wouldn't understand." He reasoned, voice hardening.

I threw my hands in the air. "How would you know? You've never tried to tell me!" Which was absolutely true. Countless times he has told me I wouldn't understand, but not once has he actually told me. How much faith can he have in me if he won't even talk to me?

Snape sighed, dispirited and tired. "I am protecting you." He insisted.

"Protecting me? From what, the truth?" I exclaimed, frazzled.

"From a cruel game." He answered, and though it was a seemingly riddled answer, he said it as if relinquishing some great secret, catching my attention.

A paused a moment, thinking. "What?" I asked at last, befuddled.

Snape walked closer to the desk, opening a drawer. "Why do you think Bella and the others were after you?" He pressed, mindlessly toying with the old Horcrux diary, a hole still slashed through it, the binding now curled with age and dryness.

I honestly didn't know. I never knew why they had it out for me. After all, I was really just a nobody to them. "I thought, maybe, it was because I got vengeful when they killed my mother..." I stammered, unsure, an positive it was much bigger than that. I never put a whole lot of thought into it, actually. These people were psychotic and bloodthirsty, so I didn't think they needed a reason most of the time.

Snape didn't speak for a moment. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, moving to fully face him now. "That's not it, is it?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper from anticipation and fear for the answer.