It was a Tuesday, when she finally left us, her life snuffed out before it had truly had the chance to shine. She'd been fighting an illness that neither Doctor nor Magical Healer could stop and it cruelly, viciously ravaged her body until she was little more than a cognizant shell of her former glory.
She'd saved us all, and now, she was taken from us, ripped out of our hearts and our lives by a disease no one could save her from.
It broke my heart even as I sat at her bedside in the old plantation manor she'd bought while visiting Georgia in the States during her twentieth birthday. It was settled between two massive old weeping willows with Spanish moss amongst the draping boughs of the many other trees on her property. She enjoyed waking up in the morning to watch the gold light of dawn break through the mist, and the warm orange light in the evening that filtered in through her bedroom window.
I was lucky enough to share this with her, for the five years she lived after that, and the three she survived knowing she would die and didn't say a word.
My brave little lioness. My Hermione. I am twice her age and though I survived the Voldemort War, I know I probably would not have survived what that cancer had done to her body. Sh-she was so strong! So brave! Even Potter...
It was late in the afternoon, on a Tuesday, the light filtering in through her window, making the twirling dust motes glow like fireflies. My lover, my golden orchid, was watching the breeze sway the willows from where she lay comfortably in her bed, the old ratty comforter drawn up to her chest. She smiled faintly and turned her beautiful face to me, lifting her hand weakly to stroke my face.
"Severus," she whispered, the faintest sound, little more than a breath. "Severus, you've been so brave. You know that, right? You are my braveheart, my stern warrior. You are my strength even while I have none. You have given me everything and for that, I love you with all my heart." Her breath hitched and she inhaled, a single tear falling from her amber eyes, and down her cheek.
I brought a hand to hide my mouth as I leaned into her hand, my body shaking as I tried to stifle my sob.
"Please don't leave me, Mione. Please don't go. I will break! I will wither and die without you!" I begged her and her face crumpled as she wept and so did I. I gathered her up into my arms, buried my face in her hair Ginevra so painstakingly took care of.
"I love you, my orchid. Please stay? Long enough to let them say goodbye?" She gave me a watery smile and I kissed her tear-stained face. I almost couldn't bring myself to leave her airy, light flooded room but I did, walking in a daze to the living room where Potter, the remaining Weasleys and a few others who were our friends here in the U.S. Were sitting, chatting quietly.
Potter stood up slowly and spoke in a trembling voice. "I-is she..."
"No, not yet, but she wishes...she wants to say goodbye to you all. Sh-she's very weak. P-please don't...don't overwhelm her?" I could barely breathe, the pain hurt as I bowed my head and bit my lip, trying so hard to compose myself. I was a wreak when Lily was killed, but this...this was infinitely worse and better. I learned that I never really loved Lily, it was an infatuation. But my Hermione...I loved her so much and she loved me deeply in return. I think we loved each other so much that it about made people sick. I smiled while thinking that. Our good friend Amelia told us that, once.
One by one, or two by two, the group eased into my lover's room, speaking with her gently, crying with her or just holding her hand. Eventually, she seemed sleepy and I asked everyone to leave, to go back to their lives, their families. That I would contact them if...when the need arose.
I kissed my girl on her lips, just gently brushed them. "I will be brave for you. But...Hermione, I cannot promise it will be right away. Right now...now, I want to be weak and fragile and selfish. I want to keep you here with me, always." I whispered, unable to speak any louder. I had climbed into the bed and settled in behind her, cradling her body against my own, my chest heaving as I wept.
"I know, Sev. I'm sorry...that I kept it hidden from you until these last few months. I just...wanted to live, and live with you without care for as long as I still could. I didn't want to...be a burden..."
"No! No, love, never. You haven't ever been a burden. You are a gift, a treasure...You are my morning sun and my evening stars, remember?"
"I remember. Severus?"
"Yes, sweet one?"
"I'm tired."
"I know. You can rest now, if you like."
"Ok."
God this hurt. I could feel each inhalation coming slower and slower. It seemed like ages before she spoke again.
"Sev'rus?"
"Yes, lover?"
"Love you."
"I love you too. So very much."
"Be strong. Be brave. I'll be with you,"
"I know. Sleep now. I'll stay with you."
"Mmm. Ok, Sev. Goodnight."
She settled back into me and took a deep breath and let it out so slowly.
Each breath came more slowly than the last as I held her and broke, sobbing openly until he could no longer feel her breaths or her heart beat.
"Hermione?" I nudged her, checked her, but I knew in my heart that she was finally at peace and free of her pain.
"Hermione!" I knew, rationally, that she was gone, but my heart won out and I shook her slightly. "Hermione? Wait, you have to wake up now. It isn't time for you to go!" I was yelling now, breaking down as I cradled her body in my arms. Bill Weasley came in, sober-faced as I whimpered and rocked with her. "No, no, no!"
He pulled me away from her and held me bodily, as well as settling her and pulling her sheet over her. I saw, before the sheet covered her, that she had a small smile on her face. That gave me peace and broke me further all at once.
"Ah God! She's gone!" I wailed as Bill led me down the stairs, barely able to walk until I was shoved into a kitchen chair and handed a glass of water. Bill's wife, Adele, a matronly sort that looked like a thinner, brunette version of Molly, patted my shoulder and without a word left Bill and I alone. Presumably, she told the others, because I heard glasses breaking. Those were her favorite glasses. She'd gotten them the first month she lived here, at a flea market.
All I could do was sob at the table. It wasn't until hours later when it was pitch black out, that I ran outside, barefoot and shirtless. I ran and ran into the woods until my feet were bloody and I came upon a secret place she and I had found...a fallen log that looked out over a gently flowing pond. The Spring Peeper frogs were singing and the moon was full in the late August sky, the stars seeming brighter than usual, or dimmer.
I fell asleep on that log and dreamed of her in the sunlight, laughing and dancing in the wheat fields down the country road, of the time she held a newborn piglet and called it a 'Baby Bacon' of all things only to have adopted it and reared it at the very same farm.
The next morning, the group and I settled her final wishes and her will.
Her funeral was done magically on our property three days after that, some two acres behind our house at the foot of the tallest weeping willow I had ever seen. It was early morning, when the fog was turning to mist and the light filtered all around us. It was perfect and fitting.
When I was asked to say some words, I rose and stood at the podium, but found I could not speak for a moment and bowed my head, tears falling freely from my tired eyes. I took a breath and felt a sudden calm come over me as I lifted my head and gazed over the small crowd.
"Hermione was not a religious woman, but there was a hymn she adored. It is called Take Me Home.
In the sweet light
Of the valley,
When the sun falls
Upon the pine,
I shall lay down
All of my troubles,
And I lift up,
This heart of mine.
Take me home, Lord,
Oh, take me home.
O'er the hillside
And o'er the sea,
To the soft grass of the valley,
Where your grace
Shall set me free.
Through the shadow
Of the darkness,
Through the storms that
Lead me astray
I shall travel
Forever knowing
In your light,
I will always stay.
Take me home, Lord,
Oh, take me home.
O'er the hillside
And o'er the sea,
To the soft grass of the valley,
Where your grace
Shall set me free."
As I sang that song for her, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Once the mourners had left, and Hermione's coffin was lowered into it's place, I looked around. When I turned around to look at her coffin, my eyes lifted to the trees and the mist floating there and for a moment, I thought I saw her and heard her say, "In your light, I will always stay."
It was a Tuesday, when she finally left us, her life having been a joy to behold and be part of, and I am thankful every morning and every evening that I was able to share such a short part of it.
THE END