The dank dampness of met her nerves. She jostled her heavy cloak about her shoulders as she descended down the path he had once shown her. Each step was careful to avoid jutting roots or uneven lifts of the somewhat natural tunnel. She was, by far, most grateful for having passed the part that required crawling. As she continued she tried with growing desperation to block the images of the battle that had taken place quite publicly above ground and closer to the castle. It had been then that she realized his absence; a sick sense of dread had pounded horrid adrenaline through her veins as she slipped away from the stunned celebrators.
Her efforts were paused as she tried to catch a sound, any sign of disturbance. Hearing none, she had to force herself to draw closer to what she now knew to be the inevitable grisly sight of Severus Snape dead. Had she not heard Potter clearly she would not have believed such a thing was capable. Even despite his constant reassuring that he expected to be dead by the end of term. Her rather meager heart had held out hope for the both of them. Now it all seemed rather fruitless.
At a distance she could spot the door hanging open just enough to deposit awareness. The crack offered no light, only despair and more darkness. Another bad sign among many, she noted. Her feet moved slowly as she approached. With each step her limbs grew heavier. The finality of meeting the door seemed monumental and she stopped once more in the hopes of being thoroughly chastised for her hasty decision to descend into a dangerous tunnel. She closed her eyes and imagined impossible things.
Severus would throw the door open, a dark look upon his face. At first he would be startled to find her so near. This would quickly bleed into his displeasure at having put herself in harm's way against his cautioning. He would scowl as he berated her intelligence and, for once, she wouldn't mind. As his tirade drew to a close, she would smile at him before throwing her arms around him. He would eventually return the affection while mumbling about her irresponsible rashness and singular mind. She would cry but it would be perfectly fine because Severus would be holding her, alive.
When she finally removed herself from such dangerous hopes, she noted that her tears were not met by his chest. No movement from within the dark room drew out the man she so desperately wanted to see. Shaking fingers extended from her body as she pushed the door open. The glow of her wand lit the interior.
Before that moment she had expected be shocked. Her predicted reaction had been one of physical pain. In her mind's eye, she would drop her wand and bring trembling hand to mouth. Instead she stood stark still. The light filtered about the dim corners of the room. It did not waver. There, in clear sight, was his body. He remained sprawled upon the dirty floorboards, not a hint of life blossoming within his chest. It was an odd sight given how often she had seen it rise and fall in his sleep. If she ignored that his body was impassive, impervious to life, she could pretend he was simply in a deep slumber.
After a prolonged moment, she found her way into the room. Looking down on his open eyes, her stomach started to churn violently. The breath seemed determined to leave her lungs. She would welcome suffocation, she decided as she looked at his lifeless body.
Her knees bent as she stooped to be more level with him. The warmth of her fingers found the coldness of his. She grasped him tightly though she knew he would never squeeze back. Her darkened eyes flickered to his usually impeccably covered neck. The flesh lay exposed, fang marks marring the smooth surface. She suddenly wanted to reach out and touch his wound. It took all of her willpower to keep her desire in check.
Pain started to seep across her chest as her mouth opened as a harrowing wail escaped. She bent her spine as she leaned over his solid body. The tears spilling out scorched at the skin of her cheeks. She could not cry for Severus. He had forbidden it long ago. Besides, he would finally be at peace after such a troubled life. Severus would be with Lily now. There was no mourning such a thing, she knew. Finally, he would be happy. Her tears were for her loss and nothing more. Surely he would not fault her that.
Her lips found their way to his hand. She kissed it gingerly. "Be at peace, my love." She whispered against it. There was nothing else to say. Nothing would be fitting for she would never truly say goodbye to him. She would carry all parts of Severus in her heart; the good, the bad, the unknown. All of those pieces that others would never know or understand. These were what she would carry within her. Always.