Disclaimer: Everything recognisable belongs to J.K. Rowling and I am most certainly not making any profit from it.

A/N: Finally, it's complete. This little story has been sitting on my computer, unfinished, for years. I knew it needed to be finished to round out the other two stories, but it took a few recent changes in my personal life for me to figure out exactly how it should end. So, this is it – the epilogue to A Thousand Miles and its prequel Subsentio. I'd recommend you read both stories before digging into this one, as otherwise it probably won't make very much sense. Enjoy.

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Eulogy

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Eu·lo·gy: yoo-luh-jee noun; A laudatory speech or written tribute,
especially one praising someone who has died.

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Not many people knew that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had a graveyard. Of those few who were aware of its existence, most were under the impression that the graveyard must have been a recent addition – another unfortunate reminder of Voldemort's war. They were mistaken.

The graveyard was actually quite old; possibly older than Hogwarts. There was little to distinguish it from the surrounding highlands, save its scattered, innocuous gravestones, most of which were heavily weathered and resembled nothing more than stray rocks.

There were some newer markers of course, several of which were so recent as to date from the past century. Of these, there was only one from the past decade.

Blaise Zabini had died at Hogwarts and there had simply been no one to collect his body. His mother had already been confirmed dead, and it had been (and still was) generally assumed that his father had met the same fate. No relatives came forward to claim the body and the Ministry of Magic was of the opinion that since Hogwarts already had a graveyard it made the most sense to simply bury Blaise there. His funeral had not been a public affair – rather, it had been conducted very quickly, with only a few Hogwarts staff members in attendance.

Hermione had never known what had become of Blaise after his death in the January of their final year at Hogwarts. It hadn't seemed very important at the time, and some part of her mind assumed he must have relatives who would claim his body and organize the funerary arrangements. Were that to be the case she had assumed, there was no way she would have been invited to attend any sort of service. She was a Mudblood Gryffindor and she highly doubted that any Zabinis or sundry other relations would look too kindly on her. But Hermione knew, deep down, that she could never have faced any of Blaise's family members, let alone seen his headstone. At the time she was still firmly convinced that she was the cause of Blaise and his parents' deaths, and that alone was enough to quell her curiosity.

In fact, it wasn't until after Voldemort's defeat and after the subsequent upheavals in Hermione's personal life had been sorted out that she began to wonder where Blaise had been buried. She had little difficulty in finding this out, once she asked the right person.

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The small graveyard was almost invisible from Hogwarts, blocked and sheltered from curious and wandering young eyes by a particularly steep hill.

No wonder I'd never heard about it, Hermione thought, it would be much too small to notice from any of the towers.

She took a long look around and was satisfied with the view. The dark, sulking highlands and summer-blue sky were lovely, in a wild, windswept way. Hermione had no doubt that the land's beauty lasted all year round, unconcerned with any trifling seasonal differences.

Hermione walked aimlessly among the ancient, mouldering gravestones for a while, squinting as she tried to make out long-since illegible inscriptions. Finally, unable to maintain her rather pointless façade of nonchalance, she made her way to the most recent marker.

"Hello," Hermione said quietly. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come here, but…well, no. No. I actually don't have any excuses."

She paused, feeling rather silly.

"It's quite nice here. Peaceful. A good place to…to rest for a while. But then, within the past year almost anywhere I've gone has felt peaceful. I suppose war has that effect – it makes you appreciate peace and safety and, well, dullness, since you know how horrible life can be without them."

Hermione paused again and squinted up at the bright sky.

"You shouldn't be here, you know. You should be…well, alive. Regardless of what may have or could have happened between us. I still miss you very much. And while I'd be lying if I said I think about you all the time, when I do think of you I miss you terribly. Even your cheekiness."

She chuckled softly, and twisted her hands together.

"I loved you very much Blaise. I couldn't say it then, because I…well, I didn't really know it. I didn't know what love really was. But I think I do now. And I'll never stop wishing you were here."

She sighed and, pressing her fingers to her lips, she transferred a kiss from her hand to Blaise's gravestone, her fingertips dancing over his carved name.

She stood quietly for a while, looking at the marker until a warm hand pressed against the small of her back.

Hermione turned and smiled up at Snape.

"I'm done, I think," she said before allowing him to lead her back towards Hogwarts.

They walked in a companionable silence for a while. As the castle came into view again, Hermione slipped her arm through Snape's.

"Thank you for telling me where he was," she murmured.

Snape nodded his head, still looking ahead at the school. "I've actually been waiting for you to ask."

Hermione smiled. "I thought as much."

They were silent again for several leisurely paces, until Hermione suddenly asked "Who gave the eulogy?"

Snape looked uncomfortable and stiffened. "I did," he said curtly.

"Ah," Hermione said quietly, nodding. She glanced back, but the cemetery was already fading into the scenery of the highlands.

"I wish I could have been there," she finally said.

"There wasn't much to it. It was hurried."

"I'm not surprised," Hermione said, nodding. "But still. Someone who…who loved him should have been there."

Snape glanced at her. "Perhaps. But funerals aren't actually for the dead. They're for the living. And you wouldn't have obtained anything from it."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly.

They passed through a high archway incongruously placed in a low, crumbling stone wall, its only apparent purpose being to let people know they had entered Hogwarts and left the moors. They were still a few hundred yards from the entranceways to one of the school's inner courtyards when Snape stopped abruptly. Hermione stopped mid-stride, her arm still tucked into his elbow, and looked up at him in surprise.

"Do you regret that you never had an opportunity to form a more solid…attachment with him?" Snape said, suddenly very interested in examining the horizon.

"Well, yes," Hermione said slowly, "of course I do. But I can't do much about it, and I, well, I suppose I've come to terms with what happened. But a part of me will always regret that we didn't…you know. Really get a chance."

"Ah," Snape said before starting off again for the castle at a quick pace, Hermione's arm released.

Hermione stared dumbly after her companion for a moment, then started after him. "Severus? Wait! Please, stop!"

The tall man did as she requested but did not deign to turn around. Alarmed by the stiffness of his back and the tension in his frame, Hermione approached cautiously.

"Severus," she said in a low voice as she came around to stand in front of him, "what on earth is wrong?"

Snape continued to stare straight ahead. "Since you are clearly disappointed that events could not have unfolded differently, I thought perhaps you may be finding my presence…unpalatable. I thought I might give you a bit of time to be alone."

Hermione stared up at him in growing amazement during his speech. Once he had finished, she burst into laughter.

Snape coloured and started to walk away, but the woman in front of him was too quick and barred his way.

"You foolish, ridiculous man!" she cried, laughter still evident in her voice. "You honestly think I'm disappointed in how my life has unfolded? Disappointed in you?"

She pressed a fingertip to the gold band on her husband's ring finger. "Severus, you have given me more joy than I believed possible. I wouldn't trade any of it for idle dreams full of what-ifs. That doesn't mean I don't think of how my life could have been, but don't think for a single second that I regret any part of my life with you. Not a bloody thing. Don't ever think that I do."

While his icy demeanour was clearly starting to melt, Snape was still on the defensive, so Hermione diplomatically took a step back and looked at him seriously.

"Would you prefer I said something more formal? Very well. You, Severus Snape, are my husband and I love you. I cherish, desire and adore you above all others. I cannot imagine living my life with anyone other than you. I loved Blaise, yes, but I am very, very much in love with you and I always shall be."

Snape's face softened and he finally dropped his eyes from the horizon to look at his wife's face. "You're certain?" he asked quietly.

Hermione grinned. "Of course you idiot. Now," she said firmly, slipping her arm back through his, "let's go home and you can cook supper to make up for being so absurd. And you will cook in the kitchen, not your lab. I still don't trust you not to add eye of newt for flavouring."

Snape grumbled something unintelligible, but Hermione only smiled beatifically and guided her husband home.

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Eu·lo·gy: yoo-luh-jee noun; a formal expression of praise
(not necessarily given especially for someone who has died)

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