Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognizable from Ms. Rowling's series.
*~*~The Unknown Woman~*~*
Chapter 20
I still do not know what I am doing. Even considering the idea that Severus is dead gives me anxiety. I can even talk to him through the bond, but the "what if everything had gone wrong" factor makes me feel as though my heart is slowly being torn out of my chest and renders me unable to breathe. They found his body.
(Or so they think.)
Who would I be to correct them? I'm just Hermione Granger. The "brains of the Golden Trio." They suspect not a thing.
I suppose I now know how Severus felt all those years; having a secret that nobody could expose.
Harry, after seeing the memories Severus and I sorted though and picked, declared his innocence in front of the new Wizengamot. He was troubled by the memories at first, but I spoke with him. I did not reveal my current situation, or Severus' for that matter. But I did beg and plead with him to try and understand the dark and dour man through those memories. It must be difficult to realize that your teacher was once in love with your mum.
I followed behind the casket in the small procession from the church to the cemetery. I recognized some of the people who had come to the funeral, fellow warriors who had fought against Voldemort, people who now regretted being wrong about Severus, and then several people who I did not recognize at all, but who kept scribbling in little note books. "Curious onlookers" my foot. They were journalists; intent on getting first word on this poor man.
Severus and I had agreed that this would be the best location for his funeral. Small, nonchalant, and quaint; everything everybody expected. This was the town he had grown up in. These walls had born witness to his tumultuous childhood.
Severus, the last Prince and the last Snape. I suppose people wanted to attend the funeral to see if he had an heir that would step forward to claim his inheritance. People knew that all of Severus' funds that had been carefully saved in his Gringotts account had been collected by somebody. Everybody speculated. Illegitimate heir? Hidden wife? Long lost cousin? Who would have willingly married the Slytherin bat? All speculated. Nobody knew who.
Nobody would ever know who. We made sure of it. That was all that the secret kept legal papers would ever tell them. Did you know that pieces of writing and information could be secret kept? I didn't, but then again, my husband is a rather multi-talented man. Severus smartly named Minerva as his solicitor. She and Poppy Pomphrey worked together with me to ensure that everything was in order.
As the solicitor to such a famed war hero, Minerva had to publicly state the conditions of Severus' estate. That had caused quite a stir in the media.
By the end of next week, none of this will matter though. All the the tomes, potions equipment, and rare things will be gone from Severus' house at Spinner's End. The house will be cleaned and repainted, and then placed on the market to be sold. Again, everybody will speculate. And then forget.
I did not disappoint the poor slobs who wished to have some light shed on the mystery of Severus' relative who has caring for his affairs. It was too tempting to not step into the fray for the day. So, I made a trip to Spinner's End dressed in thick, black, traditional, brocade, mourning robes and a black veil. They were beautiful. The most expensive fabrics available. They all tried to get a look at my face through the veil, but they could not. The casket was in the aisle at the front of the church. It was strange sitting and later walking next to it. It allowed me time to consider what I would do if Severus actually died. That thought, as I mentioned before, hurt like hell.
I suppose that is what my life without Severus would be. Hell. Plain hell. Frozen hell. Burning hell. I find irony in the fact that Sartre said that hell was other people. I suppose that could be true, but I tend to disagree. For me, hell would be a life without my husband.
We arrived at the place where the grave would be.
I broke down and cried. I cried for the image of a life without Severus. I cried for the friends and family I had lost in the war. I cried for the innocence that had been lost. I cried for those who had lost their lives. I cried for the unnamed man in the casket whose body had never been claimed. He would have been left out in the woods for the animals. Or given a simple ministry burial. He deserved better. They all deserved better, but there was only so much that could be done.
Nobody bothered me. It was as though they were all deaf. I was connected to Severus Snape, former Death Eater, double spy, and war hero. I was a pariah. They were afraid of me.
I watched as they lowered the casket into the ground, disturbing a flock of crows that was sitting in a tree nearby. I let the tears continue streaming down my face. Nobody moved until one of the pall bearers stepped up to me and offered me his hand with a kind smile. I took it, and stood up. I pulled out my wand and began casting an enchantment on the earth over the fresh grave. A beautiful obsidian stone rose up out of the dirt. I heard the bystanders gasp as they saw the beautiful stone rise from the ground.
The bond helped both Severus and myself anchor our magic together, and even supplemented it. By our calculations, we were now the most powerful witch and wizard in the world. Not something we would ever use to our own selfish advantage, but something we would use for the good of the world around us.
The onlookers then saw me cast a charm on the stone, inscribing into the stone the words:
Severus Tobias Prince Snape
1960-1998
Potions Master, Spy, Hero, Husband
"Always"
What they did not see, nor any magical being would ever see, were the words that the muggles would see when they stumbled across the beautiful stone at the base of the small cemetery near the linden tree.
Here lies what once experienced hatred and bigotry
Now defeated by love, kindness, and acceptance
Never forget, "always" forgive.
I stood up, admiring my work. It was a work of art, if I do say so myself. But I was not yet done. Unclasping the chain that held my pendant around my neck, I removed the pendant, and speaking another charm, fused it to the stone, right above the words that I had just engraved. The black cobra and the lioness intertwined themselves in their final resting place, not fighting each other anymore, but protecting each other.
I conjured a bouquet of dark red roses and lay them at the foot of the headstone. Standing, I turned to leave, but paused once more, the chain still in my hand. There was one more thing to do.
I slid a silver wedding band from the chain, and slipped it onto my finger. And then, I left.
A/N: Here you go. It's supposed to read like a journal entry. Starting to wrap up the story. Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcomed. (Especially if they contain edits, spelling mistakes, etc. I do not have a beta, so I rely on all of you!) Thank you all for being amazing and reading this. I love you all more that words can describe.