The wedding party was in full swing as Harry wandered out into the night. The castle had a sizeable moat, and beyond it lay dense, lonely forests. He undid the top button of his long black coat and breathed in the cold air, glad to be away from the crowds. It wasn't that he begrudged Ron and Hermione their happiness – he had waited a long time to see his best friends married, and had been proud to be Ron's best man. However, he envied them with all his weary heart - their love affair was honoured and celebrated by all who knew them. There could be no such event in his own life, Harry knew.
"It's not healthy you know," Ron had told him that morning. "It's downright creepy. Can't you wear something else?"
"I don't have anything else suitable," Harry said, brushing down the long, close fitting coat with its lines of many buttons.
"I'll find something."
"Try this," Harry suggested, pinning a red rose to one lapel. "Better?"
"Yes," Ron had agreed, grudgingly. "Can't imagine Snape wearing flowers, can you?"
"No," Harry said, turning away so that Ron wouldn't see his face.
He'd bought a second jacket, identical to the one he had given Snape. This was the first time he had worn it. He felt peculiar in the garment, in this private symbol of love lost. Now with the ceremony complete and the party well under way, Harry meandered in his own thoughts, slipping back into the melancholy that had haunted him for weeks.
"Harry! I wondered where you'd gone."
"Oh, hi," he said, looking round to see Hermione approaching. The billowing dress made her look like a fairy.
"Are you all right?" she asked, taking his arm and walking alongside him.
Harry shrugged. He had no desire to lie to her, but equally considered this a poor time for truth.
"You haven't been happy in a long time," she said. "I thought, once Voldermort was dead, things would get better."
"Haven't they?"
"You hardly smile any more," she said. "I'm worried about you."
"There's no need. Really."
"I think there is. You look haunted, you're tired, drawn. I know you aren't eating properly. You look as though you haven't slept well for weeks."
"Probably because I haven't," Harry acknowledged.
"You haven' been right since that last battle, have you?"
"Not really, no."
"It's been strange for all of us," she said.
"I'm thinking about leaving," Harry replied.
Hermione was silent for a while, then she looked up at him and said, "you don't mean a holiday, do you?"
"No."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Harry clung to her, welcoming her affection.
"I can't bear to see you so sad," she whispered. "At least tell me what it is?"
"Ok," Harry said. "I haven't told anyone. It's going to freak Ron. I can't tell him myself."
"Can I tell him?"
"After I'm gone, if you must."
"I'm sure he'd rather hear it from you."
"You might not think so when I've told you. You remember I carried someone out of Voldermort's stronghold, and he left after we crossed back through the woods?"
"Yes."
"I fell in love with him."
"Oh Harry!" Hermione kissed his cheek. "But Ron won't have a problem about that, you know he won't."
"He will. The man I rescued was Severus Snape."
"Snape? But…" She stepped back, her hands still on his shoulders as she stared at him, dumbfounded.
"He saved my life, and when he thought he was dying, asked me to stay with him. He told me a lot of things, about himself, about Dumbledore."
"And you believed him? After everything that happened?"
"Eventually yes. He was helping us all along, albeit in some unobvious ways."
"And he left shortly afterwards. Harry, it sounds to me as though he was using you. I can't believe he was ever on our side. Not after what he did."
"Believe me, not a day goes past but I wonder that. I have to know. As you said, I don't sleep well anymore. I don't know how to find him. I have a hair he left on my pillow and a letter in his handwriting, and that's all. It's not enough."
"You and he…" Hermione did not finish the sentence, but Harry could guess.
"We were not lovers, no. But he haunts me."
"You love him?"
"Yes."
Hermione pulled him close again.
"If you're wrong, this is going to be horrible, and if you are right, you'll have to go into hiding if you want to be with him. You've so much to lose Harry, all your friends. Everybody wants you for something."
"I know."
"I can't imagine him being nice to you, much less caring for you."
"I think he could. I don't think we knew him at all, before. But, I don't know where he's gone. I don't know how to find him."
"Finding someone who doesn't want to be sound takes serious magic Harry. It helps that you have something of his, but even so. I know of a witch, but she has a fierce reputation and she will charge you more than money."
"Her name?" Harry asked.
"Katusha."
He kissed Hermione's forehead.
"I owe you one," he said. "You always did know the right answers."
"I hope you find what you want Harry," she said. "We'll always be here for you, Ron and I. You know that, don't you? I can explain things to him. He does know what its like to be in love with someone," she added, then blushed.
"You'd best go back," Harry said. "You know I'm no good at long goodbyes."
"Harry?" She sounded uncertain.
"Yes."
"What did he tell you, about Dumbledore, about what happened all those years ago?"
"It's a long story," Harry began.
Someone called Hermione's name through the darkness.
"Then write it down and send it to me. Please Harry. Then if there's any shred of truth in it, or any evidence, perhaps I'll be able to help you."
"I'll do that," he said. "I promise."
"Hermione?" The voice was closer now, although Harry still couldn't place it.
"Go," she said. "I'll see you again, I know it."
"I truly hope so."