You're the Soul That Anchors Me

Hermione Granger sat upright in her bed. The bed sheets were tangled around her legs, and her gray hair was plastered to her face with sweat. She did not want to believe what she had just seen, or whatever it was called when you saw it in a dream. The fact of the matter was that he had been in her dream. With his hair pulled back the way she liked it, he was there. With his midnight eyes that she could drown in, he was there. With his voice like velvet, with his lean figure, with his smile that drove her crazy, he was there. But he couldn't have been there. He had been dead for three years. He had been dead and she? She had been merely existing. Life without her husband had been unbearable. He was the light that brightened her ever darkening day. He had been her constant companion for seventy-two years before he died at one hundred ten.

When they had wedded, she was eighteen and he thirty-eight. Her friends didn't understand what she saw in the dark, brooding man that she so loved. Everyone, that is, but Luna Potter ne Lovegood, who was finally able to bring her husband around to the thought that his best friend really was in love with the 'greasy git' and not under the influence of a love potion. (Even though it was she who had to convince him to court her in the first place.) He was the soul that anchored her to the earth, and now that he was gone, she had no reason to stay. Oh, sure, her two children may miss her, but she was just too selfish at the age of ninety to think of anything save her own sorrow.

For this reason, on their anniversary, September 9, she went to the meadow where he proposed to her. She had brought along a picnic basket. Inside there was a thick quilt, and her most beloved wand and that of her beloved husband. Hermione lie on the quilt, took out both of the wands, held them tightly in her hands, and, quite simply, waited. She knew he would come. He promised he would when she was ready to join him. And ready she was.

The stars were shining brightly. Then they began to take on an impossible shape and descended toward Hermione. When the figure was kneeling next to her she let out a sigh of relief. He had come, and he looked as handsome as ever.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come. That you had found a nice soul to spend eternity with," Hermione joked with the dark man. He just chuckled.

"My soul belongs to one person and that person alone, my soul mate." He looked at his wife. "It is time to go dearest. Time to go and live together forever." Hermione took his hand with no hesitation. She was transforming. The wrinkles were melting off her skin, and her riotous curls turned back to chocolate brown. Magic. She was as young as he, and it was time to live the rest of their lives.

She took his hand. "Severus, it's time." They disappeared into the twilight.