Goodbye, Hogsmeade
Having finished a very satisfactory pee wee league hockey scrimmage and an extra half hour of tips from dad, Hank and Booth loaded their gear in the back of the SVU and headed home, anticipating the hot chocolate Brennan always had ready for them on frosty Saturday mornings when they returned. The pair burst in the front door, exuberantly discussing Wimsley's missed shot that had cost their opponents the pre-season match. They were surprised to find the house quiet, the kitchen and living room empty.
"Bones? Christine?" Booth called as he strode through the dining room and peered out into the back yard. No family there. "You go check the man-cave, Buddy, while I go upstairs," he suggested to Hank. "Maybe they're cleaning out closets again."
Booth ascended the stairway and paused at the landing, listening. He heard quiet sobbing, and walked down the hallway to investigate. The master bedroom door stood ajar, so he poked his head in. "Bones, honey, whatsa' matter?" he asked in alarm.
Brennan and Christine both leaned against the headboard, propped up by numerous pillows, wrapped in the plush throw he had given his wife for Christmas. Their pre-teen daughter was patting her mother's hand as Brennan sobbed quietly into a wad of Kleenex. Booth covered the space between door and bed in two steps, sat down on the bed, and took his wife and daughter in his arms. "What happened? Is Max okay? Russ, Amy, the girls?"
Brennan raised her head, and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "No, nothing like that, Booth, they're all fine…" she sniffed and shuddered like a small child after a swat for misbehavior.
It was then that Booth noticed the book in her lap. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix lay open amid the covers. "Ah, I think I understand; I'm sorry, Bones. He was a great actor, and by all accounts, a wonderful man."
"Oh, Booth, you have no idea. During the semester of graduate school I spent studying at Oxford and met Ian Wexler, I tried to take advantage of all the culture London had to offer. I went to museums, fairs, and the theater. One of the first plays I saw was Antony and Cleopatra at the Olivier Theater in London. Dame Helen Mirren played Cleopatra, and Alan Rickman appeared as Mark Antony.
Booth squelched the urge to roll his eyes at her mention of Ian Wexler, suddenly remembering Kate Pritchard's sorrow over his death. He nodded at his wife sympathetically.
Brennan explained, "I was reading Harry Potter to Christine, and went to make myself a cup of tea and get her some apple juice. I'd left the radio on in the kitchen, and heard them announce Rickman's death."
She continued, "That Royal National Theatre production included a seminar on the restoration of the Globe Theater and the artifacts found during the project. One of the presenters was Alan Rickman. He was a good friend of Ian's Uncle Simon, who's also an actor, and I got to meet him. We went out to Simon's estate one weekend when Alan Rickman was there. He invited us backstage after the movie premier of Dark Harbor. 1998 was a productive year for both of them."
"Alan Rickman was one of the most genuine people I've ever encountered. Very much like you, Booth. Within a short time, he could make you feel as if you'd known him a long time. He had a knack for putting people at ease."
She took a breath and wiped her eyes again, "I know it's silly to cry over someone I haven't seen in nearly 20 years, but his death is so untimely. He was friendly and encouraging at a time when I didn't know many people in a new place."
Booth brushed back a strand of auburn hair, and kissed the top of both heads.
Christine spoke for the first time. "I tried to make Mom feel better, but it didn't help much."
The bedroom door swung open, and Hank appeared. "Dad, I can't find anybody, anywhere—Mom, are you okay?"
"Yes, honey, I just learned that someone I knew long ago has passed away, and it made me very sad."
"Snape, right?" Hank asked. "Dad and I heard it on the radio coming home."
Booth smiled at his son. "His name was Alan Rickman. He did play Snape but he also had a long career in movies and on the stage. He played many parts besides the Hogwarts Potions Master."
Brennan looked at Booth, a quizzical look in her eyes. "You've read Harry Potter?"
"Bones, I had a son to entertain. We read a lot of books at bedtime over my weekends with him. He loved Harry Potter. Rebecca took him to the movies as they came out, but yeah, we read Harry Potter together."
oooooooooooo
Later that night, as they prepared for bed, Booth remarked to Brennan, "I'd love to hear Sweets' analysis of Severus Snape. The hidden hero concealing his goodness behind an ill-tempered façade to protect Harry Potter and himself. His youthful love for Lilly Potter. I bet Sweets would have a heyday with the psychological repercussions of James Potter tormenting Snape at school."
"Well, they both had very unpleasant childhoods, so I daresay Lance would have a great deal of empathy for Professor Snape," Brennan suggested.
"You are the kindest person I know, Bones. No wonder Rickman's death affected you so deeply," Booth told her. "Let's go to bed, and I'll hold you until you remember only the happy times you shared with him that year in London."
A/N: Like many other Hogwarts readers, I was shocked by Alan Rickman's death at too early an age. He could have gone on giving us great performances and portrayals for many years. This snippet popped into my head while making coffee this morning (my hands, not my head) and I needed to post it in tribute to an actor who gave so much pleasure to audiences of all ages worldwide. I'm not so sure Brennan would embrace Hogwarts' concept of fantasy, but I'd hope so, since she's become such a great mother.