A.N: I wrote this after reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, so be warned there may be spoilers. This is just a short one-shot but I am tempted to continue as a kind of precursor to what happened. Let me know what you think.

Reviews, as always, welcome, although I do love seeing the hits too. I would like to improve my writing though, so reviews are always better, constructive criticism and not flames please.

Enjoy.

Instar.

.Remembrance.

The wind blew across the cemetery, dragging leaves across the hallowed ground as the sun lay low in the sky, an amber glow reflecting off the soaring autumn leaves. He followed her, as he had done every year for the past 10 years, after he had noticed her yearly absence. Stealing behind the trees and around the crumbling ancient chapel, his eyes moving constantly to watch her movements, he eventually settled by the back of the building; hidden from view as she knelt by the headstone, a small posy of snapdragons in her hand in a variety of colours.

He crouched down, so he could get up and move if he needed. Her hood was raised so her face was shrouded in darkness, although he knew exactly the expression on her face. He knew that she had silent tears rolling down her cheek, and that occasionally her breath would catch in her throat. He was aware that the hand holding the posy was ever so slightly trembling, and that she was clutching it just a little too tight. A loose ringlet tumbled over her cheek, and her bottom lip was quivering, scalding hot salty tears falling into the crease of her lips.

She knelt before the headstone, reaching a shaking hand to the cold marble, running her fingers over the engraving. She always told Ron that she was at her parents' house for the day, and she had never discovered reason to believe he knew otherwise. She couldn't do it with someone else there, especially not Ron. She had yet to tell anyone about what had happened.

Still she could feel his lips on hers, on her skin, still she could feel his calloused, and yet still soft hands in her hair, on her skin. She could feel the goose bumps that rose when he was near, when she caught his midnight eyes in her own hazel ones.

Reaching forwards slightly, she laid the posy to rest upon the chilling stone, so different from the warmth he always radiated towards her. It had been 21 years since she had lain in his arms, since she had been with him in any way other than in the last seconds preceding his death. Her heart ached as she leant against the stone, tracing his name, and the epitaph underneath.

"I miss you so much. Every day feels like an effort. I know my family needs me, and that it's been so long, but I never loved anyone like I loved you," she murmured to him, her voice dancing away on the wind but dispersing before it reached the unknown figure behind the chapel. "Rose is doing well; she loves Defence Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. I can't believe Professor Binns has finally livened up his classes, but I suppose history's got a bit more interesting when they know we were part of it. You're in the textbook you know. The new one. I'm glad. You deserve it after everything you did."

Her chest heaved with the effort it took to breathe with the lump in her throat and the tears burning invisible scars of pain across her cheeks and her nose and lips. It felt like she would never heal.

"Merlin, I know I say this every year, but I wish you never had to do it. You should be here now and I should be with you, not with him. Don't get me wrong, I love him, but you…" she paused a moment, not able to find the words to describe how much more she wanted to be with him. "I thought it would get better, you know? Like a few years would let me move on, really start living properly. But it's not happened, has it? I'm still here, still coming on our anniversary every year," still hurting like hell, she thought but didn't voice, even though she knew that if he was listening, he would know.

Hidden in the crevice of the chapel in the approaching dark, he could see her shaking against the headstone; her head resting against the clean marble – charmed he was sure – as her hood fell down, revealing the cascading curls falling over each other. He could hear faint sobs, but nothing that she was saying. He could see the posy resting atop the headstone, the snapdragons nipping at passing leaves. He sighed, rising to his feet and turning as he left, walking away as silently as he could, the cloak he had borrowed concealing him from view. He knew he wasn't good enough, never had been. It hadn't been her not being able to love him enough, only that her heart had already been stolen; something he hadn't known before.

She spent a few hours in the cemetery after he'd left, talking to him, crying, sitting in silence in the progressive darkness. As it was approaching nine o'clock she rose, her hand resting on the top of the headstone, lingering on the chilling marble as she paused before she left. She crouched down again to place her lips against his first name.

"See you next year, dear Severus."