Snape's Funeral
As Harry was helped into his tie by Ginny. He didn't feel like he was going to a funeral. Granted, the past few days had been a whirlwind of interviews, radio chats, greeting people who wanted to simply be near him.
And for the first time since he was 11, being a normal (well, normal enough), person.
There was an air of grieving about the place that had lingered in the air since that night when the darkest wizard of all time had finally met his end by a simple defensive spell. There had been triumph. Joy. Even hysterical crying and laughter too as the world was finally rid of the dark lord that had threatened them constantly.
But too, there was an air of grief.
Of those they had lost.
Nymphadora Lupin, and Remus Lupin. Due to be buried in a few days time...a funeral Harry would not have liked to attend at all...
Of Fred Weasley, in the ground now, still mourned by his hopelessly lost brother George, and his family.
Of Colin Creevey, whose life was lost too soon...whose parents could not understand how this had happened.
But this funeral was perhaps the strangest.
For 7 years, Harry had loathed this man, hated him, resented him, and defied him...yet his final tears had provided him with not only the reasons why the man was the way he was, but also gave Harry reason to want to make amends after so many years of misguided hate.
Severus Snape died aged just 39, of blood loss from snake wounds, a truly average death, or an extraordinary wizard. He had died bravely, asking only to look at the eyes of his unrequited love, in his enemies body.
Before heading to his bed in the dormitory that was emptied, he informed McGonagal that Severus Snape's body lay in the shrieking shack and needed attention.
When Harry woke, McGonagal explained his body lay in the hospital wing, surrounded by curtains. It was here that he went to visit Snape with those who deserved to know. The staff who reviled him after Dumbledore's death, the select few students who defied him in his new position as headmaster.
And explained it all.
The funeral had been organized for today and Harry had suggested the teachers issue an open invitation to the students who felt moved to attend. Harry did not hold much hope that many would. After all, his story had not been bought by many...Perhaps Snape, in the end, was too effective in his role as a double agent.
Ginny looked at Harry.
"...How do I look?" he asked.
"Smart..." she replied, looking tired, careworn, and a little red around the eyes.
He put his arm around her and kissed her forehead.
"...We may as well get this over with...There's plenty more after it..." he sighed.
"...When Snape...died..." she began, looking at him with her brown eyes. "...how did you feel?"
Harry looked down at his unpolished shoes.
"...Confused." he began. "...Very confused. I mean, this man had killed Dumbledore, and...had betrayed us all...and yet he was dying, and something...just made me try and help him."
"...And after you saw the memories?"
"...Almost ashamed of the way I had acted..."
"Harry..." she began softly, holding his hand.
"...C'mon..." he said softly. "Let's go."
Walking down from the common room to the grounds where Snape was to be laid to rest, having specified no other preferred location he noticed that it was oddly quiet. A great deal of students, after the battle had gone home and some had been sent to St. Mungo's.
"Ron will be there, of course. And Hermione. Neville, Luna...most of the DA. The teachers, obviously...but, not many others..."
Harry nodded solemnly.
Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was Ron in a black jumper and dark jeans. Hermione with a pale blouse, a black cardigan and a black skirt and Neville, battle worn still, with a black tank top over a pale blue shirt. Harry got the feeling Hermione altered it for him.
Luna was stood by the open door looking into the grounds. Her long, blonde hair was free down her back, and she wore a light lilac colour instead of traditional black.
She turned when she saw him
"Hello Harry..." she began fondly. "...You might wanna get a seat...Its filling up nicely..."
Harry walked swiftly to the door to see to his amazement that the modest assembly of seats McGonagal had positioned near the coffin on the green were quickly being taken up. And not JUST by Slytherin.
Amongst the black and green, he saw flashes of yellow, blue, and his familiar red.
Walking, almost automatically towards them, leaving the others behind he saw that the crowds were there, just as solemn as he was...looking morosely at the coffin.
Seamus caught up with him and patted him on the back.
"...Nice turnout, ain't it Harry? I mean sure, he was a mean bastard at times, but the man died a hero...Y'know what I'm sayin'?" and with that he trotted off down the incline to the green.
That summed it up really.
The students present probably still all harboured some ill will towards Snape for the constant bullying he dished out in his lessons, but at the same time...realized that this man was the Slytherin, that died a Gryffindor.
Making his way to a seat, Hagrid patted one beside him that had been left deliberately empty for those whom had perhaps had the closest encounters with him in the last few moments of his life.
Harry sat down and took in the mourners.
He remembered Dumbledore's funeral, and the grandeur. The mermaid choir, the centaur tribute, the numerous people saying wonderful things about him, and realized that this funeral would be the exact opposite.
After all, how many lives did Snape touch during his life?
His eyes were suddenly drawn to a wreath of Lilies that lay on the Slytherin flag of his coffin and the answer was presented to him.
With the congregation assembled, the official that had presided over Fred's funeral, Dumbledore's funeral, and Bill and Fleur's wedding came forwards to begin.
"...Severus Snape. Potions Master. Head of Slytherin House. Headmaster..."
Harry looked over the congregation again, and noted that Draco, his perhaps, preferred student was absent, as was Blaise, and Goyle.
"-Perhaps led a quieter life than most, but nevertheless celebrated by those who knew him..."
Harry stood up.
"...Nobody will ever know him. Not really know him. Not even I knew him...All I have to remember of the man who died for me, is a few memories in a phial."
There was a gasp of discord from the crowd.
"...Snape died that night because he was no longer of use to two of the men who he trusted. Dumbledore and Voldemort."
There were yet more shocked gasps.
"...Voldemort thought he was the owner of the elder wand and killed him because he wanted the power. And Dumbledore let him die without knowing what his death would do. How it would have saved me, and everyone else here today.
Yeah, he was a git sometimes...He was cruel, and he was malicious..." Harry looked at the lilies on the coffin, and then reached into his pocket finding something that Slughorn had given to him last night. A picture of his mother in her youth. Smiling, happy, and full of promise. "...But let's not forget that things aren't black and white...they are grey..."
Placing the picture on top of the coffin, he sat down to a silence so tangible you could cut it with a knife.
Before it was punctuated by clapping.
Luna was stood, her lilac robes fluttering delicately in the breeze, her face peaceful and calm, and clapping. Neville stood abruptly to follow suit, followed by Dean, Seamus...Then by Hagrid, Kingsley. Soon, the DA, and the order were clapping. Some were crying, crying for loved ones they had lost in this war.
For the fact that life would not be the same again.
For lost time, and for lost love...
Harry watched as the throng of mourners applauded, comforting one another.
And for some reason...Harry knew that Snape, beyond the Veil, would have approved of not being the centre of attention. The reason for the tears, or the applause, that he would be left to rest in peace...
