Disclaimer: I own no right to any of these names, created by JK Rowling.
This is purely for your reading enjoyment.
1 Do Not Stand By My Graveside and Weep
It was startlingly beautiful on the day of the funeral. He would have preferred somber gray mourners under an equally gray sky, Draco thought, instead of this. The mourners themselves were somberly dressed, but there was something bizarre about the ringing song of birds echoing throughout the wood. Severus would have been surprised to see the number of people present at his funeral, though. The entire school was at the memorial service, which was the idea of Albus Dumbledore, the emotional fool. The memorial service would have seemed extremely distasteful to Severus, but old fool even commented with his usual enigmatic smile that the Potions Master was probably "rolling in his grave" to know the service was being held in his honor. Draco couldn't believe that comment; it seemed as inappropriate as the angelic choir singing during the memorial did. But, everyone finds a way to mourn a loss in his or her own way.
The memorial service was also held in a public fashion because the burial was to be a private, simple matter. Because Severus seemed to have no family remaining, the Malfoys took it upon themselves to properly put the man to rest. Draco was grateful his parents were taking steps to make the burial a more quiet, somber affair, but he would have preferred to have them not there. He stopped by the Slytherin common room on the day of the memorial, not having been back to Hogwarts since he had graduated. Anabel Flint, a sister of Marcus Flint, who had been on the Quidditch team, greeted him when he was in school.
"Draco Malfoy?" she asked timidly as he entered.
"Yes, and you are…?" he responded, feeling a little weary of the attention. How ironic that similar to the moronic Harry Potter, he should also have found his niche in fame among Slytherin House. Slytherin first- years were regaled with tales of the way Draco had made sure the Boy Who Lived realized that not all were in awe of him.
"Oh!" the girl replied, shyly, much to the tittering of her other friends in the common room. "I am Anabel Flint, I think you knew my eldest brother Marcus?"
"Yes, I did," Draco said hurriedly. "I was, er, wondering if my old dorm room was still here?"
Anabel nodded and pointed him up a set of stairs.
"No one uses that dorm room anymore, it's sort of like a museum," Anabel said. "In your honor, of course."
He tried not to roll his eyes as he thanked the girl, leaving her to her giggling friends, who would no doubt be writing this down in their diaries. 'Met Draco Malfoy! He's so dreamy!'
He opened up the door to the room he had shared with Crabbe and Goyle that year. The memories came back as he crossed the room to the large window, the velvet curtains now closed. Parting the curtains, he looked down and saw things had not changed much since he had left. He had a clear view of the Potion Masters' Study. Draco leaned on the casement, remembering the many times he had woken up in the night so he could sit here, in the dark, watching him work through the night. He always wondered if someone would come to visit Severus Snape, bent over his scrolls. Sometimes there would be the odd visit from a Professor or two, but nothing unusual.
One night, he stood outside the door of the study, willing with all of his might that Severus would sense his presence there, open the door and invite him in. It never happened.
Hell! Judging by the position of the sun, the burial service would be soon. He let the curtain fall closed and fairly ran down the stairs, ignoring the blushing goodbyes of Anabel and her friends. He picked up his broom at the nearby broom rack and flew off.
The burial was taking place in a small plot near the Malfoy mausoleum. Severus's death had even taken himself by surprise, as no one could find any last Will and Testament. The only thing they had discovered was a piece of parchment that was found in a pigeonhole in his office. "Do not stand by my graveside and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep." The staff at Hogwarts gathered this to mean that he did not want much in the way of pomp and circumstance. It was as obvious as the feathers on an owl that Severus would want as little attention as possible, but it was frustrating and saddening to not even know what he wanted done with his remains.
Lucius Malfoy had procured an ornate headstone in black granite with emerald snakes entertwined underneath the name "Severus Snape – b.1960 – d.2000" There was the Slytherin shield there as well.
There were a few families from Slytherin house present. To his surprise, Pansy Parkinson, a young woman who had been at Hogwarts when he was at school, was there with her family. She embraced him warmly when they met. He stiffened slightly at her embrace, but attempted to make light of it. She had become even more beautiful than she was when he took her to the Yule Ball. She pestered him for years to be more of the boyfriend that she expected him to be, but she would rarely even get a kiss from him.
He recalled one uncomfortable moment when she demanded he explain why he was so cold towards her.
"It's not you, honestly," he had tried to plead with her as she bawled in his room one evening. "I just, I don't feel that… way… toward you."
"Why don't you just say it then," she had replied between clenched teeth. "At least own up to it instead of making me the cure for your illness."
"Illness?"
"You…." She stammered, then blurted out. "You just don't like girls!"
He had made a great show out of being furious with her, berating her and loudly proclaiming how he could have any girl he wanted, if he wanted. He had been so furious with her blatant accusation; he even had sexual relations with Millicent Bulstrode, one of the girls in Pansy's "gang." It had been terrible, but Millicent had been so surprised and pleased to have him to her bed, she didn't even notice that he didn't come. The plan worked as well as he had hoped. Millicent bragged about the affair to Pansy, who refused to talk to Draco at all after that moment.
He was worried, even scared, that she might spread her accusations about him to other students, but Millicent had played up the illicit affair with such creation, it left no doubt in Pansy's mind that Draco simply hadn't wanted her.
And now, standing before him, she smiled pleasantly as she broke off the embrace.
"Draco, so good to see you after all these years," she said.
"You too, Pansy."
"Please," she held up a hand, stopping him. "My name is Pernita. 'Pansy' was so, well, girly."
Draco had to stifle a smile, thinking 'Pernita' to be even more girly, but he let it pass.
"It's truly horrible about Professor Snape, isn't it?" now-Pernita sniffed. "Father says that the Auror was insane, thinking the Professor to still be allied with Voldemort. But that won't keep him from being kept behind bars for a long, long time. They should have let us have him, don't you think?"
Draco simply nodded, but he had to agree. One moment with Severus's assassin would be plenty to exact his torture out upon the bastard.
"Ay-hem. If I might have your attention, we shall start the service now," announced a wizard Draco did not recognize. Six others brought in the coffin, setting it beside the open hole in the ground. One opened the coffin, which almost made Draco gasp. He didn't know they would… oh no, he wasn't prepared for this.
From where he stood, he could see where the Potions Master lay. He was dressed in his professorial robes, upon his chest were three black lilies. Completely out of place, they must have been a touch from his mother, Narcissa, he thought irritably. But it was he. His face was quiet, composed, as if in sleep. The wizard began to drone on and on about the professor's accomplishments, his work as the head of Slytherin house, but Draco let the boring voice become nothing more than the slight buzzing of a fly.
He swallowed hard, blinking, trying to tear his gaze away from the solemn face. That memory had appeared in his mind's eye so many times, as he had slammed his feverish brow to the cool of the bathroom mirror many times, trying to get those thoughts out of his mind. His reverie was interrupted as Pansy, he couldn't think of her by any other name, whispered to him.
"I meant to tell you, you know, of something the Professor told me." She said. "About you."
"Me?"
"Remember the year you took me to the Yule Ball? The way you snubbed me that night, refusing to… you know, do it?"
"Pan… I mean, Pernita, for Merlin's sake, that was so long ago."
"Don't get mad at me, but I talked to Professor Snape about it," she said.
He almost screamed aloud, he couldn't believe it. Sudden hatred blazed out of him as swiftly as a curse, she even blinked and stepped back away. She frowned and her body vibrated with the effects of a counter-curse to his sudden fury.
"I was young and confused, Draco! Who was I supposed to go to, Minerva McGonnagall?"
He slowed his breathing back down to normal, managing to speak.
"You didn't have to tell… him."
"Let me finish, OK?" she persisted. "You'll be interested in what he had to say."
"It's a good thing he's dead, or else I'd never be able to face him again!" he hissed, instantly regretting what he had said, especially about Severus being dead.
"I told him I thought you, you know, didn't like girls," she continued. "And what he said almost made frogs fall out of my mouth. 'There are some that don't, Miss Parkinson, prefer women, in a sexual way.' I have to say I was burning red, to hear Professor Snape say 'in a sexual way,' let alone what he was about to tell me."
"What did he say?"
"He said it was perfectly normal for boys to like, well, boys. And that he… you won't believe this, Draco, that Professor Snape preferred men!"
There was a sudden flutter of wings as a group of sparrows burst from a nearby tree, as if startled by something. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't say anything. Pansy continued.
"He said he was only telling me, so that I might understand that it wasn't me, it was maybe, well, you." She said. "But when you slept with Millicent, I told him that you probably didn't like boys after all."
He wished he were transparent. He wished he could scream, hit her, drive his fists through he demanding she take it all back. But she was certain, she was sure, and she was right.
"The weird thing was, when I told him you had slept with Milli, he looked almost… sad," she said. "It was fleeting, like clouds in front of the moon, but it was there."
He still said nothing, just looked at her. He couldn't bear to look back towards the coffin.
"Draco, you know, I forgive you for sleeping with Milli, I know you did it to get back at me," she said, almost apologetically. "It's really OK."
"Thanks, Pernita," he heard himself saying, "I would have stayed with you, but you wouldn't speak to me after that."
"Too little too late," she said, sadly. "Are you with someone now?"
"Yes," he said. "I am."
"We now commit the soul of Severus Snape to his ancestors," interrupted the wizard into his thoughts.
One wizard began to close the lid of the coffin.
"Wait!"
The voice came from him, too. Everyone turned around, surprised. His father should have looked furious, but instead he looked puzzled.
"Please, let me look upon my mentor one last time, who served my House so well while he brought wisdom to those he taught," he said quickly, the words coming to his mouth as soon as he could think them.
His father nodded.
"Of course, Draco," he gestured to the wizard, who moved away from the coffin.
Draco walked forward as if in a dream, fully expecting Severus to open his eyes, glowering at him. Really, Mr. Malfoy, this is quite unbecoming of you.
I could have told you. It would have been all right. The years, the years I watched you.
We do not choose our destinies, boy. They choose us.
He stepped up to the coffin, his back to the gathered mourners. With a sudden cry, he reached in and grabbed the lilies, flinging them upon the ground. There was a collective gasp from the others, but he heard his father quietly speak to his mother.
"Of course he's probably upset, Narcissa, dear. Severus was quite an influence in his young life."
Influence? Oh, you don't know the least bit of it, Father.
Draco reached in and touched the man's hand, impulsively taking it and bringing it to his lips. The hand was cold, lifeless.
Do not come to my graveside and weep. I did not die. I do not sleep.
Tears coursed down Draco's cheeks, his chest heaving with ragged sobs that had been locked inside him for years. Every look he received from his beloved Professor, whether in class or passing in the hall, he tried to read between the lines for something hidden. Was there anything else that had been there?
I love you.
He let the cold hand rest against his forehead for one, cool, blessed moment, then laid it back down, gently, upon the other. Then, he turned and walked away. Away from the coffin, away from the gathered mourners, away, away. He didn't even look to see Pansy's surprised face, realization dawning upon her.
He heard the wizard clear his throat behind him as he walked away.
"Erm, we now commit the body of Severus Snape…"
Draco waited until he was outside the cemetery gates before he looked back. The group was still there, around the site. He felt wretched, unable to find any way to release his sorrow. He looked up and saw two young ravens, performing their playful acrobatics in the air. They twisted around each other, talons outstretched, plummeting as if they would hit the ground, but then soared back up at the last minute. They swung around each other once more, flying in perfect tandem.
Draco couldn't help but smile as he watched the ravens with child- like delight.
There we are. We fly.
1 Do Not Stand By My Graveside and Weep
It was startlingly beautiful on the day of the funeral. He would have preferred somber gray mourners under an equally gray sky, Draco thought, instead of this. The mourners themselves were somberly dressed, but there was something bizarre about the ringing song of birds echoing throughout the wood. Severus would have been surprised to see the number of people present at his funeral, though. The entire school was at the memorial service, which was the idea of Albus Dumbledore, the emotional fool. The memorial service would have seemed extremely distasteful to Severus, but old fool even commented with his usual enigmatic smile that the Potions Master was probably "rolling in his grave" to know the service was being held in his honor. Draco couldn't believe that comment; it seemed as inappropriate as the angelic choir singing during the memorial did. But, everyone finds a way to mourn a loss in his or her own way.
The memorial service was also held in a public fashion because the burial was to be a private, simple matter. Because Severus seemed to have no family remaining, the Malfoys took it upon themselves to properly put the man to rest. Draco was grateful his parents were taking steps to make the burial a more quiet, somber affair, but he would have preferred to have them not there. He stopped by the Slytherin common room on the day of the memorial, not having been back to Hogwarts since he had graduated. Anabel Flint, a sister of Marcus Flint, who had been on the Quidditch team, greeted him when he was in school.
"Draco Malfoy?" she asked timidly as he entered.
"Yes, and you are…?" he responded, feeling a little weary of the attention. How ironic that similar to the moronic Harry Potter, he should also have found his niche in fame among Slytherin House. Slytherin first- years were regaled with tales of the way Draco had made sure the Boy Who Lived realized that not all were in awe of him.
"Oh!" the girl replied, shyly, much to the tittering of her other friends in the common room. "I am Anabel Flint, I think you knew my eldest brother Marcus?"
"Yes, I did," Draco said hurriedly. "I was, er, wondering if my old dorm room was still here?"
Anabel nodded and pointed him up a set of stairs.
"No one uses that dorm room anymore, it's sort of like a museum," Anabel said. "In your honor, of course."
He tried not to roll his eyes as he thanked the girl, leaving her to her giggling friends, who would no doubt be writing this down in their diaries. 'Met Draco Malfoy! He's so dreamy!'
He opened up the door to the room he had shared with Crabbe and Goyle that year. The memories came back as he crossed the room to the large window, the velvet curtains now closed. Parting the curtains, he looked down and saw things had not changed much since he had left. He had a clear view of the Potion Masters' Study. Draco leaned on the casement, remembering the many times he had woken up in the night so he could sit here, in the dark, watching him work through the night. He always wondered if someone would come to visit Severus Snape, bent over his scrolls. Sometimes there would be the odd visit from a Professor or two, but nothing unusual.
One night, he stood outside the door of the study, willing with all of his might that Severus would sense his presence there, open the door and invite him in. It never happened.
Hell! Judging by the position of the sun, the burial service would be soon. He let the curtain fall closed and fairly ran down the stairs, ignoring the blushing goodbyes of Anabel and her friends. He picked up his broom at the nearby broom rack and flew off.
The burial was taking place in a small plot near the Malfoy mausoleum. Severus's death had even taken himself by surprise, as no one could find any last Will and Testament. The only thing they had discovered was a piece of parchment that was found in a pigeonhole in his office. "Do not stand by my graveside and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep." The staff at Hogwarts gathered this to mean that he did not want much in the way of pomp and circumstance. It was as obvious as the feathers on an owl that Severus would want as little attention as possible, but it was frustrating and saddening to not even know what he wanted done with his remains.
Lucius Malfoy had procured an ornate headstone in black granite with emerald snakes entertwined underneath the name "Severus Snape – b.1960 – d.2000" There was the Slytherin shield there as well.
There were a few families from Slytherin house present. To his surprise, Pansy Parkinson, a young woman who had been at Hogwarts when he was at school, was there with her family. She embraced him warmly when they met. He stiffened slightly at her embrace, but attempted to make light of it. She had become even more beautiful than she was when he took her to the Yule Ball. She pestered him for years to be more of the boyfriend that she expected him to be, but she would rarely even get a kiss from him.
He recalled one uncomfortable moment when she demanded he explain why he was so cold towards her.
"It's not you, honestly," he had tried to plead with her as she bawled in his room one evening. "I just, I don't feel that… way… toward you."
"Why don't you just say it then," she had replied between clenched teeth. "At least own up to it instead of making me the cure for your illness."
"Illness?"
"You…." She stammered, then blurted out. "You just don't like girls!"
He had made a great show out of being furious with her, berating her and loudly proclaiming how he could have any girl he wanted, if he wanted. He had been so furious with her blatant accusation; he even had sexual relations with Millicent Bulstrode, one of the girls in Pansy's "gang." It had been terrible, but Millicent had been so surprised and pleased to have him to her bed, she didn't even notice that he didn't come. The plan worked as well as he had hoped. Millicent bragged about the affair to Pansy, who refused to talk to Draco at all after that moment.
He was worried, even scared, that she might spread her accusations about him to other students, but Millicent had played up the illicit affair with such creation, it left no doubt in Pansy's mind that Draco simply hadn't wanted her.
And now, standing before him, she smiled pleasantly as she broke off the embrace.
"Draco, so good to see you after all these years," she said.
"You too, Pansy."
"Please," she held up a hand, stopping him. "My name is Pernita. 'Pansy' was so, well, girly."
Draco had to stifle a smile, thinking 'Pernita' to be even more girly, but he let it pass.
"It's truly horrible about Professor Snape, isn't it?" now-Pernita sniffed. "Father says that the Auror was insane, thinking the Professor to still be allied with Voldemort. But that won't keep him from being kept behind bars for a long, long time. They should have let us have him, don't you think?"
Draco simply nodded, but he had to agree. One moment with Severus's assassin would be plenty to exact his torture out upon the bastard.
"Ay-hem. If I might have your attention, we shall start the service now," announced a wizard Draco did not recognize. Six others brought in the coffin, setting it beside the open hole in the ground. One opened the coffin, which almost made Draco gasp. He didn't know they would… oh no, he wasn't prepared for this.
From where he stood, he could see where the Potions Master lay. He was dressed in his professorial robes, upon his chest were three black lilies. Completely out of place, they must have been a touch from his mother, Narcissa, he thought irritably. But it was he. His face was quiet, composed, as if in sleep. The wizard began to drone on and on about the professor's accomplishments, his work as the head of Slytherin house, but Draco let the boring voice become nothing more than the slight buzzing of a fly.
He swallowed hard, blinking, trying to tear his gaze away from the solemn face. That memory had appeared in his mind's eye so many times, as he had slammed his feverish brow to the cool of the bathroom mirror many times, trying to get those thoughts out of his mind. His reverie was interrupted as Pansy, he couldn't think of her by any other name, whispered to him.
"I meant to tell you, you know, of something the Professor told me." She said. "About you."
"Me?"
"Remember the year you took me to the Yule Ball? The way you snubbed me that night, refusing to… you know, do it?"
"Pan… I mean, Pernita, for Merlin's sake, that was so long ago."
"Don't get mad at me, but I talked to Professor Snape about it," she said.
He almost screamed aloud, he couldn't believe it. Sudden hatred blazed out of him as swiftly as a curse, she even blinked and stepped back away. She frowned and her body vibrated with the effects of a counter-curse to his sudden fury.
"I was young and confused, Draco! Who was I supposed to go to, Minerva McGonnagall?"
He slowed his breathing back down to normal, managing to speak.
"You didn't have to tell… him."
"Let me finish, OK?" she persisted. "You'll be interested in what he had to say."
"It's a good thing he's dead, or else I'd never be able to face him again!" he hissed, instantly regretting what he had said, especially about Severus being dead.
"I told him I thought you, you know, didn't like girls," she continued. "And what he said almost made frogs fall out of my mouth. 'There are some that don't, Miss Parkinson, prefer women, in a sexual way.' I have to say I was burning red, to hear Professor Snape say 'in a sexual way,' let alone what he was about to tell me."
"What did he say?"
"He said it was perfectly normal for boys to like, well, boys. And that he… you won't believe this, Draco, that Professor Snape preferred men!"
There was a sudden flutter of wings as a group of sparrows burst from a nearby tree, as if startled by something. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't say anything. Pansy continued.
"He said he was only telling me, so that I might understand that it wasn't me, it was maybe, well, you." She said. "But when you slept with Millicent, I told him that you probably didn't like boys after all."
He wished he were transparent. He wished he could scream, hit her, drive his fists through he demanding she take it all back. But she was certain, she was sure, and she was right.
"The weird thing was, when I told him you had slept with Milli, he looked almost… sad," she said. "It was fleeting, like clouds in front of the moon, but it was there."
He still said nothing, just looked at her. He couldn't bear to look back towards the coffin.
"Draco, you know, I forgive you for sleeping with Milli, I know you did it to get back at me," she said, almost apologetically. "It's really OK."
"Thanks, Pernita," he heard himself saying, "I would have stayed with you, but you wouldn't speak to me after that."
"Too little too late," she said, sadly. "Are you with someone now?"
"Yes," he said. "I am."
"We now commit the soul of Severus Snape to his ancestors," interrupted the wizard into his thoughts.
One wizard began to close the lid of the coffin.
"Wait!"
The voice came from him, too. Everyone turned around, surprised. His father should have looked furious, but instead he looked puzzled.
"Please, let me look upon my mentor one last time, who served my House so well while he brought wisdom to those he taught," he said quickly, the words coming to his mouth as soon as he could think them.
His father nodded.
"Of course, Draco," he gestured to the wizard, who moved away from the coffin.
Draco walked forward as if in a dream, fully expecting Severus to open his eyes, glowering at him. Really, Mr. Malfoy, this is quite unbecoming of you.
I could have told you. It would have been all right. The years, the years I watched you.
We do not choose our destinies, boy. They choose us.
He stepped up to the coffin, his back to the gathered mourners. With a sudden cry, he reached in and grabbed the lilies, flinging them upon the ground. There was a collective gasp from the others, but he heard his father quietly speak to his mother.
"Of course he's probably upset, Narcissa, dear. Severus was quite an influence in his young life."
Influence? Oh, you don't know the least bit of it, Father.
Draco reached in and touched the man's hand, impulsively taking it and bringing it to his lips. The hand was cold, lifeless.
Do not come to my graveside and weep. I did not die. I do not sleep.
Tears coursed down Draco's cheeks, his chest heaving with ragged sobs that had been locked inside him for years. Every look he received from his beloved Professor, whether in class or passing in the hall, he tried to read between the lines for something hidden. Was there anything else that had been there?
I love you.
He let the cold hand rest against his forehead for one, cool, blessed moment, then laid it back down, gently, upon the other. Then, he turned and walked away. Away from the coffin, away from the gathered mourners, away, away. He didn't even look to see Pansy's surprised face, realization dawning upon her.
He heard the wizard clear his throat behind him as he walked away.
"Erm, we now commit the body of Severus Snape…"
Draco waited until he was outside the cemetery gates before he looked back. The group was still there, around the site. He felt wretched, unable to find any way to release his sorrow. He looked up and saw two young ravens, performing their playful acrobatics in the air. They twisted around each other, talons outstretched, plummeting as if they would hit the ground, but then soared back up at the last minute. They swung around each other once more, flying in perfect tandem.
Draco couldn't help but smile as he watched the ravens with child- like delight.
There we are. We fly.