"Harry, are you alright?" asked a worried voice of Hermione Granger.
"Yeah, mate. Why are you brooding so much?" asked Ron. "I mean, I get it. He was our teacher once, but, come on, he was one of the worst!"
The glare Harry sent him was weak and half-heartened, but shut Ron up just the same. Hermione tugged at Ron's hand.
"We'll be going, Harry," she said. "If you'll need us, we'll be talking with Kingsley."
Harry nodded, but didn't take his eyes from a tombstone.
It was the tombstone of a brave war veteran, who had fought and sacrificed a lot without a single word of thanks. Thinking back all those years he realised just how much he could have learned from the man. Not just about his subject, but also about his family.
If he had only known.
He had been the last connection to his mother. His last hope to find out most about her. Not such as who were her friends? But such as what was her favourite colour? Did she like treacle tart as well or did she prefer chocolate pudding?
So much had been unsaid, so much unknown.
Quietly Harry left without a word, but his emerald-green eyes, so much like his mothers, whispered "Goodbye."
The end
A/N This story is written to honour my best English teacher ever. Personally she reminded me so much of Snape.
Students had disliked her for she was strict, always unhappy and demanding, but her soul was clear and once you showed her respect and proved your sincerity, she gave a smile, showing her own respect for you.
The last months I had not seen her. She was also a singer and I always believed that she was travelling with her concerts. The truth was that she spent her time at the hospital.
Unlike Harry, I never got to say goodbye, but just like Harry, I never managed to get to know Her, the One I was so very fond of.
Rest In Peace
May freedom be with thou and may thy world be filled with love and care
Died from cancer, but was one of the strongest and bravest women I knew
28.06.2013
Forgive me please.