252Happy 2021 from your spinster aunt. I hope you and yours have been well.
It took a long time, but here it finally is, the last chapter. It's a bittersweet feeling, finally reaching what I hope is a satisfying end. At some point, I wrote out three things I'd like to write into this last part:
1. Harry staying at Spinner's End for the summer (my little wish)
2. babygirl's funeral
3. S+H to kiss at least once before the end.
Two out of three ain't bad. I guess.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. The only reason this story came this far was because of all of you. Even with the year-long breaks in between chapters, I never gave up on this story because I knew you were waiting.
That said, please enjoy.
A Series of Events
Chapter Thirty-one
"Snape," Potter said in an exhale. He hunched over a bit, the hand clutching the parchment pressed against his side. A faint smile began to form on his face. "You're here."
Severus huffed and tied his dressing gown closed. Between talking to Potter and risking Potter becoming affected by the magic contaminating the hallway, he would do what he must, however distasteful.
"And you, Potter," he said as he slowly entered the circle of light cast by Potter's Lumos, "are once again wandering through the castle in the middle of the night. Although, the lack of proper footwear is a surprising new twist." Potter's toes curled as if to hide from his sight. "Merlin help us if the Chosen One ends up dying after stepping on a piece of cursed granite."
Potter looked down, finally noticing the sharp, dangerous pieces of masonry spread out on the floor between them. "Cursed?" He took a few large steps back.
"Oh, most assuredly." Severus retraced his steps, taking care not to step on any debris along the way. "I myself had stepped on a fragment just moments ago, and lo and behold, you appear."
That certainly wiped the smile off Potter's face. "I wanted to see you."
Severus scoffed under his breath. Sadly, the feeling was not mutual. "Enough to cut your feet into ribbons as you run around in the dark?" He raised his wand and gestured with his free hand. "Stand back while I clear this mess. Since no one else in this wretched place can be bothered."
Potter took another step back as Severus turned to face the destroyed corridor. Beyond the hole in the outer wall, Severus could almost make out a sliver of the moon, high above the grounds. He whipped his wand through the air, mercilessly Banishing every piece of rumble before him into the void.
Underneath his feet, the castle grumbled and groaned loud enough that even Potter heard.
"What was that?"
Severus ignored both the question and the castle's petulant whining.
"Is it a good idea to just Banish all the stones away?" Potter continued. "I mean, we've been trying to fix the castle for days, even though none of the repairs hold, but—"
"Unlike some," Severus interjected, "I don't build on cursed stone." He would cut new stones from the ground with his own bare hands, if need be, so long as every last remnant of that room was removed from the castle and summarily destroyed.
Potter crept closer, his feet slapping against the floor. "Was it really cursed?"
Severus breathed in through his nose. If Potter did not recognize the danger they were in, then so be it. He was under no obligation to inform him. "It's unfortunate that current circumstances prevent me from doling out proper punishment for being out of bed at this hour," he said. He glanced down at Potter's feet. "A few points from Gryffindor for reckless self-endangerment, for example."
"I was in a hurry," Potter said.
"A perfectly useless excuse," Severus said. He untied his dressing gown belt and pulled it out of its loops. It was a moment's work to cut the fabric belt in half and transfiguring the pieces into a serviceable pair of slippers.
He tossed the slippers at Potter's head. Potter, startled, fumbled with catching them before managing to keep his wand, the parchment, and both slippers from falling onto the floor.
"Wear those," Severus said. "And don't bother returning them in the morning." He doubted the transfiguration would even last that long. Even now, he could make out the belt seam on one of the slipper's soles.
Potter clutched the slippers tighter against his chest. "Thank you."
"Thank me by not dying as you saunter back to bed."
Potter struggled to get his feet into the transfigured slippers. They were too small; Potter's heels stuck out of the back by about an inch. Severus pretended to not notice.
"I went to see you at the hospital," Potter said quietly, his chin close to his chest. "The morning you left. I missed you by about an hour."
How fortuitous. "A pity," Severus said, "but now that you have seen me, I assume that you're satisfied?" He searched for the dressing gown belt and instead ran his hands down the sides of his dressing gown to make up for his mistake. "Try not to linger too long in this corridor, lest the curse takes hold of you."
He moved to stride past Potter, head held high and shoulders back in what was in no way a retreat from this corridor and Potter's unwanted presence. He kept his eyes on the staircase just past Potter's shoulder.
He nearly made it. The hem of his dressing gown brushed again Potter's leg when Potter turned to stop him. "Snape—"
It was a mistake to give Potter those slippers. His first step in them, he stumbled over his own toes and bump against Severus's side. Knocked off-balanced, Severus grabbed hold of Potter to keep from falling, only for his own feet to slip underneath him.
Severus's back hit the wall hard, taking the breath out of his lungs. Potter's Lumos spell winked out as his wand clattered onto the floor. Severus clutched at Potter to keep himself from slipping further. "Potter, you—"
Even in the near darkness, he could feel how close Potter's face was to his own. Potter's hands pressed warm against Severus's back.
Potter let out a little gasp and pulled away. Before Potter's hands completely withdrew, Severus, without thinking, wrapped his arms around Potter's shoulders. That only made Potter's hands slip across his back and hold him tighter.
It was only to stay on his feet! There was no other reason!
But Severus was paralyzed, too unbalanced and startled by his own actions to pull back as a clutch to stay upright turned into an embrace.
He was so much closer than before. Potter's nose ghosted against Severus's. Through the thin layers of clothing, Potter's chest was bony and warm. He could feel Potter's racing heart as easily as he felt own hammering against his chest. Severus took hold of Potter's shoulders, his hands kneading the muscles there.
In the dark, he couldn't see the bright green of Potter's eyes. His eyes fell closed as Potter's lips found his.
Their kiss started dry and virginal, no more than a press and slide of closed lips. But Severus, to his shame, parted his lips and his tongue brushed against Potter's mouth, seeking a way in.
Potter huffed a breath through his nose and tilted his head, letting Severus's tongue inside. As the kiss got deeper and Potter's arms tightened around him, Severus heard a groan rumble out of his own throat. Potter's enthusiasm pushed against Severus's thigh.
His own enthusiasm was being piqued as well.
Severus pulled away, the taste of Potter's mouth on his tongue and on his lips, and turned his body to hide his shame before realizing that it was too dark to see anything but indistinct shapes in various shades of black.
He wiped at his lips, but the feel of Potter's mouth against his still lingered. He held his dressing gown closed with one hand, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the soft fabric.
"I'm sorry," Potter whispered. "I—"
"Don't," Severus whispered back. "Just—" He staggered to the side, careful to give Potter a wide berth as he all but ran to the stairs. He tried to slow down, tried to leave the scene of his shame with some scrap of dignity, but his heart refused to calm down, and his slippers slapped hard and quick on every step.
Only as he reached the ground floor did he begin to slow down. He pressed his hand against his pounding heart. His whole body burned with heat. He covered his face with his hands, his fingers soothing against his burning face.
He rubbed and pulled at his cheeks. Wound up with desire, anxiety, and shame, he slumped and sat on the last step, covered his mouth with both hands and swallowed back a scream.
In the darkness, the castle was quiet and dawn was far away.
Sleep came in small, jagged segments, jostling Severus from nebulous nightmares to hot-skinned memories of Potter's hands on his back and Potter's mouth against his.
By sunrise, he had given up on the idea of sleep altogether. The house-elves sent down a tray laden with porridge, fruit, milk, sausages, beans, tomatoes, toast, tea, and coffee. He helped himself to the coffee before getting dressed for the day.
A couple of hours later, Severus let himself into the kitchens for his promised talk. The house-elves were subdued and quiet as they cleared the tables, a sombre mood that quickly rippled away to anxious servitude as they realized Severus stood in their midst. A young elf no taller than his knee ushered him to a small table set in the corner. On the table sat what suspiciously looked like the mostly untouched tray of food that he had left in his old quarters this morning, along with an ashtray and a pack of cigarettes.
Severus picked up the cigarettes and gestured to the house-elf. "Where did you find these?"
"I found them, Headmaster sir." Another house-elf looked up with wide blue-black eyes before ducking her head down. "In the Hufflepuff dormitory. One of the students left it behind one of the toilets."
Severus tucked the pack into the pocket of his robes. It wasn't his brand, but he didn't feel right leaving it behind. As the clocks chimed the hour, the house-elves stopped their tasks and scrambled to present themselves in front of Severus.
He stood before them, quickly making a head count. "How many elves were lost?" he said in a soft voice.
Tsukky, in a clean, freshly-pressed tea towel, stepped forward. "Thirty six, Headmaster sir."
Severus took a deep breath through his nose. That was nearly a third of the castle's elves, far more than he had feared. As he looked down at the bowed heads of the elves gathered in front of him, he could see the gaps the lost elves had left behind. "Have the arrangements been made?"
Tsukky shook her head. "There's too much to do. With both the castle and the witches and wizards helping fix it, there's no time for the Rest." Several house-elves started sniffing and rubbing at their large, watering eyes.
"Then, I will make sure you have the time."
The gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's quarters looked up from the rubble it had found itself. It lifted a broken claw. "Headmaster, welcome home."
"Laying down on the job? So unlike you." Severus mended the broken gargoyle with a strong bit of magic. It settled back into its place in front of the spiral stairs, its various parts slotting together and doing their best impression of a unbroken piece of stone.
He looked at the gargoyle's battered face. "Looks like one of your eyes has gone missing."
"So long as I still look fierce and foreboding." It lifted its head and lowered its chin, giving Severus its best "fierce and foreboding" expression.
Severus patted its head and walked up the broken, unmoving spiral stairs.
"Wait, Headmaster."
Severus stopped and looked back. The gargoyle gave him a look that could only be called "sheepish".
"You have guests waiting for you in your office." The gargoyle turned its head forward. "The entire staff."
Severus took a moment and closed his eyes. He had hoped to speak to them under his own terms. He took a breath, and started climbing up to face the inevitable.
He heard their voices on the other side of the door, the words spoken too quietly to be comprehensible. He smoothed his features and the front of his robes before storming in. "All of you are here? Perfect," he said, shutting down all conversation as he walked straight to the unoccupied Headmaster's chair behind the desk and took his seat. "It saves me the trouble of calling a meeting." As he sat, he finally spared them a glance.
The gargoyle had not been wrong; it was indeed everyone. Minerva sat front and center, scowl fully set, no doubt unamused by Severus's very impressive entrance. On either side of her sat Professors Flitwick and Sprout, the later of which stared back at Severus with red-rimmed eyes. Madam Pomfrey sat beside Sprout, her hands holding Pomona's hand, her body still leaning to speak soft words to her.
Hagrid loomed in the back of the room; even while sitting, he was head, shoulders and ribcage above the rest of them. To the right of Hagrid, Professors Hooch, Sinistra, Vector, and Madam Pince seemed to have formed a thin-lipped ladies' brigade. Seating in the middle of these severe madams, Professor Trelawney looked lost and not a little drunk, her bracelets tinkling with every nervous twitch.
Mr Filch loitered in the very back of the room, half-hidden by Hagrid's body, as he sullenly stroked his cat's fur. Slughorn parked himself by the fireplace, a brandy glass in his hand despite the hour, his eyes darting to the empty chair pushed to the other side of the room. Even old Binns was there, floating in a corner of the room, more interested in Dumbledore's old trinkets than on Severus and his very excellent entrance.
Severus took a good long look at the bloodstained chair. He clasped his hands to keep them from touching the scar hidden underneath the high collar of his robes. He addressed the staff. "Considering the—," horrific battle, "—events of the past couple of weeks, I believe it's long past time for the school to close its doors for the summer."
"But, the school is already closed." Professor Vector said sotto voce to Professor Hooch, her mouth hidden behind a hand. "Isn't it?"
"Not officially," Madam Pince said.
"Classes haven't been held in days," Flitwick said.
"And yet," Severus interrupted, "I have spotted students and other individuals that are clearly no longer students roaming the halls."
"They're volunteers, Severus," Pomfrey said. "They're here to help us rebuild."
"From what I have seen so far, their 'help' has been less than effective." Severus said. "However, there seems to have been some improvements made last night, so there might be some use for their altruism in the future. For the moment, however," he leaned forward on his elbows, his hands steepled in front of him, "I'm shutting down the school. Everyone is to leave the castle by sunset."
Minerva's frown turned sour. "For how long?"
Ah, no cries of foul? No heated refusals? Somehow, not having his (unwanted) authority automatically challenged was both refreshing and unnerving. "Two weeks," he said. "Hardly any time at all."
That brought a reaction. "Two weeks?" Pomfrey said.
"What on Earth for?" Sprout said.
"The castle's magic needs time to replenish itself without dealing with heavy-handed dolts trying to mend its walls." Severus looked at each of them in turn, noting how tired, how pale, how stretched thin all of them looked. "We all need time to replenish ourselves."
"Are you saying that we have to leave as well?" Professor Sinistra said.
"Of course not," Severus said. "None of you need to leave if you do not wish to. However, the house-elves will be unavailable, so you will have to fend for yourselves if you stay." He shrugged, spreading his hands out in front of him. "Consider it an early vacation, a reward for all your hard work this past year."
"Well, it's rather short notice," Slughorn said, a happy little smile on his face. "But who are we to turn down such an opportunity? I'm certain I can convince one of my dear Slug Club members to lend me a warm bed and a roof over my head in this, my time of need," he rambled from his seat by the fireplace. "Old Sam Hightoury, do you remember him, Minerva?"
"Not fondly."
"Well, his family runs a lovely little holiday place in the Lake District now. I'm certain he would be willing to house us in one of his chalets for a week or two."
"Whatever you decide to do, decide soon," Severus said, cutting off whatever else Slughorn wished to say. "And please tell the volunteers to clear out by sunset tonight. They're welcomed to come back next month. And with that, meeting adjourned."
Madam Pince all but jumped to her feet, ready to fly back up to her perch in the Library.
Trelawney cried out in fright. "Irma, no! Don't you know that when thirteen people sit down—"
"That's only at a table," Hooch said. "Not at a meeting."
"Wait." Minerva raised her hand, silencing the room. "There is a reason we're all here. Well, another reason." Her sharp eyes narrowed in on Severus's face. "We have something to say to you."
Severus's insides clenched. It wasn't just Minerva; all of them were staring at him with severe, almost painful focus. He knew he would inevitably have to cross this bridge, but he didn't think he had the resolve to face all twelve of them at once.
"Oh, my," Binns said from the other side of the room. "This chair is terribly stained. Did you spill wine of this, Headmaster?"
Severus stood up. "There is nothing that needs to be said," he said in hopes of stopping any more of Minerva's arguments.
"There absolutely is," she said, rising to her feet. "Severus—"
There was a knock on the office door. "Professor Snape, are you-" Potter opened the door and froze at the sight of the packed room. "Um."
However much Severus might have prayed for something to intervene, this was not what he wanted. Between spending one more second in this meeting and more time with Potter, Severus would frankly choose death.
"Is something the matter, Harry?" Minerva said.
"No, just," Potter took a small step back. The tension in the room must be palatable if even Potter could sense it. "I'll wait outside—"
Hagrid burst to his feet, his chair shooting back and hitting Mr Filch in the legs.
Mrs Norris yowled. "Hagrid, you ruddy oaf! Watch what you're doing!" Mr Filch swore.
"Professor Snape!" Hagrid said, "Don't go!"
"Hagrid?" Minerva shouted.
Oh? Did Minerva's carefully laid-out attack plan fall apart? Trust Hagrid to go straight to the heart of the matter. "Professor Hagrid," Severus began.
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you!" Hagrid cut him off. There were specks of what looked suspiciously like snot on the man's overgrown beard. "This whole year, I kept trying to figure out if I really had it wrong all along. If Professor Dumbledore had it wrong all along! But I should've trusted my gut. Dumbledore wouldn't've never had been tricked like that! I shouldn't've doubted you!"
"Professor Hagrid," Severus said, his ears ringing. "The whole point was to doubt me."
"Well, I shouldn't've!" Who was Severus to compete with that logic? "I should've realized that you're Dumbledore's man through and through! And if you go, the castle— we—"
"Professor Hagrid," Severus's voice was a soft counterpoint to Hagrid's booming words.
"It was wrong!" Hagrid shouted over him. "It was wrong for Professor Dumbledore to make you do that! But you shouldn't feel like you have to leave because of what you've done!"
"What I did," Severus said, "was necessary."
"That still don't make it right!"
"Severus," Professor Flitwick said, "what I think Hagrid is trying to say is that, although it was Albus's plan from the start, we're all quite sorry for how we treated you this year. Especially now that the truth has come to light."
Severus shot a glare at Potter, who lurked by the door.
"Albus's plan was too cruel, putting so much on your shoulders," Professor Sprout said. She pulled a faded, brown handkerchief from inside her sleeve and started wiping at her eyes. Madam Pomfrey stroked her arm soothingly.
"It was a necessary burden."
"No, it was not," Pomfrey snapped. "It was…"
"Cruel," Sprout assisted in between sniffles. "And we want to make things right."
"We want you to stay, Severus," Flitwick said.
"Headmaster, I might be mistaken," Binns said, "but I do believe that this stain is actually blood."
Severus closed his eyes for a moment. "If that is all," he said.
Minerva clasped her hands and sighed. "Perhaps we should take these next two weeks to consider what we really wish to do with our lives, now that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is gone."
"That is an excellent suggestion, Minerva," Slughorn said, groaning to his feet. He placed the brandy glass on the Headmaster's desk. "A bit of rest to clear our heads, reassess our priorities." He clasped Severus's arm with a sweaty hand. "Well done, young man, well done," he murmured to Severus, shaking his arm up and down. "Really a credit to our House." He shook Potter's arm in the same heavy-handed manner before sauntering out the room.
Slughorn barely left before Severus's arm was grabbed again. Madam Pomfrey's grip was gentle but firm. "Come to the Hospital Wing later, I wish to speak to you."
"Will this talk be about school matters, or something more personal?"
"Both." She peered into his eyes. "Did you get any sleep at all last night? You mustn't wear yourself out so soon after—"
"Oh, no," Binns's voice wafted through the air, "I am now quite certain that this is blood."
"I'll visit—" Severus's words were cut off as Hagrid enveloped him in a sudden, hairy, gamey-smelling hug. "Professor Hagrid!" he cried, his voice muffled by the rough fur pressed against his mouth. "Restrain yourself!"
"Sorry, Professor," he said, pulling away. His beard was wet with snot and tears. "I'm just glad that you're alive."
"As am I," Sprout said before she too pulled Severus into an unwanted hug that smelled too much like dirt and dragon dung. She patted his cheek before letting him free.
Severus worked on forgetting that this woman tried to maim him at least once this past year. The hostility of the last year had completely melted away, leaving only sorrow and a wish to return kindness. He wondered if this was Potter's work as well, exonerating Severus not just in the eyes of the Wizarding World at large, but also here, among the people he had called colleagues and perhaps even friends for nearly twenty years.
He caught Mr Filch's eye. "Would you like a hug as well, Argus?"
Mr Filch's perpetual scowl deepened as he cradled his cat and shuffled closer. "Welcome back, Headmaster," he growled under his breath, clapped Severus's shoulder once, and shuffled out the door.
The room grew quiet. Potter stayed by the door, closing it after the last few stragglers finally left. Only Binns, still staring at the bloodstained chair, hadn't realized the meeting was finally over.
"Professor Binns," Severus said.
Binns popped to attention. "Yes, Headmaster?"
"Could you please inform the school ghosts that the school will be closed for the next two weeks?"
"Of course." He floated away through the closed door, only to turn around and float back. "You do not plan to keep that chair, do you? It's quite morbid, keeping a chair someone had died in."
"No, I do not plan to keep it."
Binns nodded his head. "Good, good," he said and floated away.
Severus turned away from Potter and picked up the brandy glass Slughorn had empty. It smelled suspiciously like the Armagnac Dumbledore had kept in the cabinet for guests. Severus would be very surprised if the old scrounger had only helped himself to a glass and didn't just abscond with the whole bottle.
There was a soft tap as Potter placed something on the desk. "Here," he said. "I— I wanted to give these back to you." The memories inside the crystal flask swirled in gentle patterns, the silvery glow almost invisible in the daylight. "And this." Potter rested the cigarette case beside the flask of memories and took a step back.
Severus set the brandy glass down. "Thank you." The words did not taste as bitter as he had imagined they would.
"I tried opening it again, after," Potter said. His hands were clenched at his sides. "But I only found the cigarettes. The other chambers wouldn't open."
"No, they wouldn't, would they." Severus made no move to pick either item up.
"Why did you give it to me that night?" Potter said. "You knew, or rather, you thought you knew that I was going to die soon after, but you still gave me that case."
"Potter, are you trying to make sense of a dying man's last thoughts?" Severus pulled out a box of cigarettes from his pocket. To his dismay, it was the pack of disgusting toilet cigarettes. He tossed them in the bin by the desk. "Perhaps I wanted you to go to your inevitable death with some company."
Potter's hands slowly relaxed. His fingers spread out and curled up again. "I had company," he said. "If it makes you feel better."
The only things that could make him feel better were some time alone and a smoke. He stood by the Headmaster's chair. He placed his hand on the armrest. "Will you be going to the Weasleys tonight?" he said to the plush upholstery.
Potter was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," he said. "I stayed here the last couple of days because they're still dealing with a lot, and... I didn't want to be a bother to them." That was suspiciously considerate of him; Severus doubted Mrs Weasley would turn away an urchin in need, no matter the condition of her household, especially if that urchin was Harry Potter. "And Grimmauld Place isn't really an option."
"It isn't, no." Severus swallowed down the urge to invite Potter to stay at the castle. He didn't think he had fallen so low as to give Potter any differential treatment, but it seemed that a burden was always a burden. The fire crackled and popped. He bit the inside of his mouth. "If—"
"I'm not like him, you know." Potter said. His gaze was on the cigarette case. "Hutton."
Confusion twitched across Severus's features before he could smooth them over with some semblance of indifference. "Of course, you're not. The only thing the two of you share are bad facial scars and horrid career choices."
"That's not the only thing we share," Potter said quietly, lifting his head. He stared Severus down, the firm resolve in his eyes cutting across the distance between them, daring him to deny it, only for Potter to look away. Red blossomed across his cheeks. "But I'm not like him," he insisted.
"No, you're not." He looked back up. Severus tried to give him a reassuring look, but his face muscles couldn't quite manage it. "You're nothing like him at all."
There was a gleam in Potter's eyes, one that made the hairs on the back of Severus's neck rise. This time, Severus was the one to look away first, covering the heat rising in his cheeks with a cough. "If, and I must emphasize, if the Weasleys cannot take you in for the next couple of weeks, I can give you somewhere safe to stay."
"Where will you stay?" Potter walked to one end of the desk.
"Here," Severus said, moving to the other end. The warmth of the fire scalded his already burning cheeks. "There are some things only a Headmaster can do, it seems." He should smother the fire out. It was much too warm in the room as it was. He rubbed at his flushed face and glanced at the cigarette case. The cigarettes inside should still be serviceable. "One of them being standing around and looking magnanimous while the house-elves bury their dead." He palmed the case and checked the locks before putting it in his pocket, taking care to keep the desk between himself and Potter.
"And…?" Potter said, jutting his chin to point at the case in Severus's pocket. "Are you planning to keep it forever?"
Severus held the flask of memories to the light. He could not remember which memories he had given to Potter and which he had held back out of shame. He did not look forward to putting them back into his head. "Conducting yet another funeral is the last thing on my mind." He slipped the flask into his robes, close to his chest. "However, perhaps it's long past time."
"When you have that funeral," Potter said softly, keeping at arm's length, "may I join you?"
"If you wish" Severus said. The acidic thoughts that had begun to form in Severus's mind dissipated as Potter lifted his eyes and nodded his head once.
"I do," Potter said.
Severus felt a sudden, irrational urge to smack him. "I'll inform you of the date and time." He waved a hand towards the door and crossed his arms. "Now leave, before I change my mind."
Potter gave him another soft smile and nodded his head. He lingered, just out of arm's reach, his gaze resting on Severus's lips for a moment, before moving a step back, hands and teeth clenched. "Right, yeah," he mumbled. At the door, he looked back one more time before finally leaving.
As the door shut behind Potter, Severus took out a cigarette, lighting the tip by the fire. He took a long drag and placed his hand against his forehead. The cigarette trembled in his hand, shaking ash onto the carpeted floor.
Even with the doors of the school closed, the work did not stop, not for Severus. End-of-year paperwork, beginning-of-the-year paperwork, rosters and schedules, letters and forms… Minerva insisted that all students, the ones denied their spot this year and those that had endured, should be allowed to return, and it was their job, or, more specifically, his, to make sure they all had a chance to learn. He looked forward to seeing her struggle with the increased workload once September rolled around.
Pomfrey forced her presence on him nearly every other night, either armed with scrolls full of potion requests or demands that he should rest before he worked himself into an early grave.
Another one, in either case.
The house-elves held funerals nearly every night those two weeks. Two or three elves were laid to Rest each night, each one buried in a clean tea towel and their most treasured possession tucked in their crossed arms. Wrapped in their elf-made shrouds, each decorated with a delicately-embroidered Hogwarts crest, the elves were carried into the crypts deep underground and placed beside the similarly shrouded corpses of their predecessors.
Nearly every night, Severus followed the long procession into the deepest caverns under the school, the trail of his best robes whispering against the ground. He was a silent witness, the symbolic master of the elves that are finally allowed to rest after giving their lives to the school. By the time he returned to the Headmaster's quarters, it was always long past midnight.
He considered keeping the school closed another week, if only to spend more time sleeping.
It was raining the Sunday night he met Potter at the school gates. Potter Apparated in a couple minutes before the agreed-upon time, wearing the cheap black suit Severus had seen him wear to young Fred Weasley's funeral. Severus made no comment, not feeling comfortable in his own choice of dress.
"You're wearing a Muggle suit," Potter said as Severus moved his umbrella to cover both of their heads.
"Sometimes, I marvel at your impressive feats of deduction," Severus said, holding out his free arm for Potter to hold.
Potter stared at Severus's hand, the desire to hold it flaring in his eyes for a moment, before he placed his hand on the offered forearm. In a wink of an eye, Severus Apparated them away, taking them to a silent, rubbish-strewed river embankment.
The clouds over Cokeworth had already blown over. The raindrops on the overgrown grass glittered in the moonlight. A stray cat darted underfoot, started by their sudden appearance.
Severus closed his umbrella. "No talking until this is done," he said.
Potter, who looked eager to explore this strange new world Severus had taken him to, grew sombre and said, "All right."
Severus led the way up the embankment and through the streets. He could sense Potter vibrating with curiosity as he peered down every alley and stared up every boarded-up terraced house. The click of their heels against the cobblestones echoed up and down the narrow, empty streets.
After a few minutes, they reached their destination, an abandoned church deep within the warren of abandoned homes, complete with a weed-choked graveyard full of broken gravestones.
Potter stayed silent as Severus pushed open the rusted gate. The name of the church had long faded away. He didn't even know if it had once been Anglican or Catholic; anyone who might have known was long gone.
The bodies buried here didn't care, long dead as they were. It was no more than a potter's field now, a resting place for those with no money or relatives to give them a proper burial.
Severus stopped in front of a small stone slab near the back of the church. He had never carved the names into the stone, only a curving line that looked an "S", turned onto its side and stretched beyond recognition.
He knelt in front of the slab, one knee at a time, and clawed his fingers into the rain-softened dirt. Potter dropped to his knees beside him and scrambled to join in. Together, they prised the slab up and gently set it aside.
Potter wiped his dirt-covered hands on his thighs as Severus took the cigarette case out of his pocket. It held only one thing now, one long-dead body wrapped in its funereal shroud, waiting to be put to rest.
Severus held the case with both hands for a long time. Potter dug into the wet soil, making sure not to jostle or unearth the two urns already buried in the ground. It took time, but soon the hollow was deep enough and wide enough for the case to go inside.
Severus lowered the case into the ground with great care, as if laying a burden down or a child to rest. He helped Potter fill the hole again, patting it down with a gentle hand before they put the stone slab back into place.
Severus looked down at his dirt-blackened hands. They trembled in the cold. He bowed his head over the marker stone and drew a shaky breath.
Potter's hand, just as dirty and blackened, covered his. Grime and warmth rubbed into Severus's skin.
Severus rubbed at his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. "Come," he said, "we should go before the neighbors get too curious." They must look a sight, with their black suits covered in mud and grass, but there was no one to see it but the stray animals.
As they neared Spinner's End, Severus gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and said, "If you're not in a hurry, you're welcomed to join me for a cup of tea."
Potter's steps faltered for a moment before resuming. "I would like that," he said, almost too quietly for Severus to hear. "I'd like that a lot."
Their hands brushed against each other as they walked side by side.
End.
You can find me on tumblr (username: babygray-dam), where I post a lot of silliness, twitter (username: babygray), where I post a lot less, and pixiv (username: babygray, user id: 26205502) where I mostly post drawings of Professor Snape.
Thank again for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Take care! :)