Harry felt as if they were walking in circles, never getting to the point that really mattered. So far, he hadn’t had any real proof that Snape was really on their side. He might have confounded Hermione somehow, although Harry would have spotted the signs a mile away after seeing this dumb, confused look on the magically confounded Muggles during the Quidditch World Cup. But then… Snape was a powerful wizard and a good actor - he had been able to fool Dumbledore. Or Voldemort, Harry wasn’t sure any more.

 “I’m sorry,” he said to Hermione. “I am not willing to give in on this. I don’t trust him, full stop. You are going to have to give me a better reason to do so.”

 Snape stopped in his tracks. “I am afraid you are out of choices, Potter. Your friends Lovegood and Thomas have been caught and are currently in Malfoy Manor, under the watch of Death Eaters, probably being tortured insane. You have to get over yourself and work with me.”

 Hermione nodded. “It’s true, Harry.”

 “I tried to save your parents. I tried to save Dumbledore from this deadly, spreading curse. I might have succeeded, you know, if you hadn’t poisoned him before his death. I saved your sorry arse every single school year, sometimes twice and you never spared a thought as to why.”

 “Severus!” He whirled around to shout at Hermione, but seemed to rethink and then turned back to Harry. “You have no real plan, Potter. Albus’ heritage is meaningless. He left Granger a fairy tale book, what did he think you were intelligent enough for? What did he leave you? The Learning to Count trilogy?” Snape sighed as if Harry was a hopeless case and picked a book out of his book case. “Has it never occurred to you that his plans have flaws? They always did, he was absolutely insane.”

 And with that, the man sat back down and furiously stared at the book as if it was personally threatening him.

 “Why should I trust you?” Harry asked again - if anything, he was stubborn.

 The man rubbed his forehead, stood back up, snatched his book and left the room. He returned a few seconds later to grab his cigarettes and whiskey bottle.

 “You can break your promise, Granger. It means nothing, anyway.” Then he left for good and went upstairs.

  Hermione put the kettle on, put her hair back and looked as if she was getting ready for a battle. Then she sat down next to Harry, passed him his cup and started talking. After what seemed like hours, Hermione had finished telling perhaps the most tragic story in this war against Darkness and Harry realised that he was crying.

 His vision was blurred, he was tired beyond exhaustion, and yet Harry decided to follow Snape upstairs.