The last chapter. Bittersweet, I suppose... Please enjoy and REVIEW!

Chapter Five: Of Acceptance and Forward Motion

An owl flew into Celaene's window that night. Tonks, looking exhausted, walked over to it and pulled out the package it dropped. She opened it for Celaene, who was past caring about such tiny matters. Remus sat beside her, talking softly to her. She seemed not to hear; her eyes were glazed and unfocused, staring miserably into the distance.

"It's all of his belongings," said Tonks, handing it to Celaene, who caught it out of reflex and opened it. She pulled out a long black robe, a white shirt, and a pair of black pants. There were shoes there, too and his wand… and a silver ring. Where she had been crying quietly, she now wailed, "He wore it until he died! He kept it and I didn't! Why did I take it off, why did I ever take it off?"

"You didn't know, Celaene," said Remus. "You couldn't have known."

"I shouldn't have taken it off," she repeated over and over again.

"Celaene?" Tonks asked timidly, several hours later.

"What?"

"Do you want some more tea?"

"No, I don't want any more fucking tea." Celaene's tone was flat and depressed.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Get me my husband back."

"I'm sorry," she said for the thousandth time. "I'm going to go home, Celaene, but if you need me, Floo me, okay?"

"Yeah."

Tonks hugged the Astronomy professor. She didn't respond but stared down at her hand, looking at the narrow band of silver. "And Remus will be there, too. Okay?"

"Sure."

Celaene stared out of her window for so long that night that she stopped seeing everything. The sky was black; she couldn't see any stars. Strange that she didn't care… It felt like looking into herself; she was a night sky without her stars, without her moon. She tried to feel sad or angry or… or something, but all she felt was empty. Cold and empty and lonely.

In the morning, Celaene woke up stiff and cold and miserable. There was no reason to go to breakfast—who needed to eat? Who cared? She went instead to the dungeon he had occupied for so many years. She could almost feel him there, almost hear his impatient, sardonic voice tell her to enter. Glass bottles and flasks lined the walls. A potion long ruined boiled in the corner. Celaene put it out with a tired wave of her arm. It smelled horrible. He would never have let a potion be ruined like that. Never…

It was too clean in there. He was always so tidy. Celaene wiped her eyes on a sleeve of her robe and left the cold, grey dungeon, locking it behind her. She went back to her ruined tower and went into her—their—bedroom. She put her head on his pillow. He always slept on his left side, turned out and away from her. He was always so quiet and distant, but Celaene had known him well enough to be able to tell what he said without words.

She let the tears flow unchecked down her face and into the pillow. They had been opposites, always opposites… Severus never cried and Celaene had never died. He was gone now, unreachable. Dumbledore and Severus, both gone, essentially gone in the same night and by the same curse.

"Celaene?"

It was Tonks.

"What?"

"You're going to be okay."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. He wanted you to be happy…"

"How do you know what he wanted?"

"He told you, Celaene."

"I'm not happy, okay? I need to be sad. Please go away, Tonks."

Tonks left clumsily, knocking over, among other things, a photograph.

Celaene wandered over and picked it up. It smiled at her.

"Oh, Severus…" She watched his picture for a minute, then looked out the window, down at the grounds. Not "okay". Never "okay". But alive. She was alive.