Chapter 5 at your service. In case you all haven't figured it out this story is completed and I have a goal of adding a chapter a day. All my love and admiration to my beta team. You ladies ROCK!
The HP universe is not mine, but I do so love playing with the characters.
Please tell me what you think
He did remember to eat. It was a near thing, but after five hours of lying on his bed, staring into nothing while tears tracked his face and shudders racked his thin frame, his stomach reminded him he was still alive. If he had been capable of feeling anything beyond bone deep grief and pain, he would have felt gratitude for Hermione Granger when he opened his refrigerator to find the tsziki sauce, a tray of cold cuts and pita bread—he would not starve, and he was grateful, though there was no room in his heart to feel it. His heart felt so empty, yet there was no room to feel anything—it was full of nothing… a vat of emptiness.
Severus had been almost catatonic when she left, but there was nothing more she could do—he needed time to rest and come to terms with the reality that the next time he walked into the study, Helena and Melissa would not be there waiting for him.
Hermione waited two days—it wasn't easy, but she waited. She worried, she castigated herself for becoming overly involved with her client, then she worried some more. Never before had she seen someone so demoralized by death. She had been in the business now for almost five years, and never had she seen someone so lost—not even Harry. She took a deep breath and knocked on the front door anxiously, dreading what she would be faced with. Would he answer the door? Would she have to force her way in? Some small part of her feared she would find he had gone to be with Lena and Bee.
When he opened the door with a dour look on his face—unshaven and eyes bloodshot—all she could do was smile, as inappropriate as it might seem.
"Severus…"
"What are you doing here?" he snarled. "Haven't you done enough? Or have you come to gloat?"
"What?" She was shocked.
"Are youi happy /inow?" Severus asked, "I'm alone. Isn't that what I deserve after all I have done in my life? Well, be on your way so I can rot here."
Hermione pushed her way past him. "I will do no such thing, and I don't know how you came to such a conclusion."
"How I came to such a conclusion?" he backed her into a corner, his nose nearly touching hers. She could smell the Firewhiskey on his breath. "Perhaps it could be becausei you forced/i me to bury them! You are the one who took them away, put them in the ground—where I will never be able to see them again, to touch them." His voice broke with the last. "They're gone."
She drew a sharp breath as realization dawned. "Yes, Severus, they were buried. You gave them the respect they deserved because you loved them… but that does not mean they're gone—they live on within you."
"How sweet! Pardon me if I am not comforted by your words," he snarled, his tone venomous. "I would much rather my wife and child bei here/i, not just a imemory."/i
"You have no right to speak to me this way!" His mention of memory hit a nerve. "I am isorry/i your wife and your child are not here, but at least they died knowing who iyou/i were and you ithem/i, and you both have the isame memories."/i She punctuated her speech with sharp jabs of her finger into his chest. "And we are inot done/i. Greek Tradition dictates that you must visit the three days following the burial."
"No." Severus' face went ashen.
"You iwill /ido this ," Hermione stated firmly, "You iwill/i—so I suggest you go get cleaned up."
"I am not going back there."
"Yes, you are. First, tonight, you are going to shower while I bake the moussaka. You are going to have a decent meal. Then, we will go to the cemetery in the morning."
"I can't…"
"You can and you will, if I have to use Petrificus Totalus to force you. They—Helena and Melissa—deserve this."
Severus let out a heavy sigh and turned away toward his rooms.
"And so do you," Hermione said as she headed to the kitchen.
Hermione's hands shook as she removed the moussaka from the refrigerator. She was glad she'd thought to place a Freshening Charm on the dish before leaving his house two nights ago. She set it out on the counter to come up to room temperature while she preheated the oven and prepared the Bèchamel. She heard sounds of a shower in progress as she cracked the first egg, and let out the breath she had been holding.
He would go.
Severus had tried to wash the guilt off as he scrubbed his body in the shower, but it was no use—he had been out of line. The way he had yelled at Hermione had been unforgivable, yet he couldn't stop... it had been as though he were standing outside of his body, watching a stranger that looked like him yelling at her, at this young woman who had shown him every kindness in the world as he hurled insults, anger, and venom at her. He had not been so out of control of his emotions since, well… since she had been his student. But she was not his student, and she did not deserve what he had said.
He was further amazed at the way she had stood up to him—the only person who had ever called him on his actions and gotten away with it before had been Helena… dear Helena. Severus wondered what Ms. Granger would think if she knew her time as his student could have been twice as bad had it not been for the calming influence of his wife. He didn't know how he was going to survive without her—it had only been two days since the burial, and already he was drunk and yelling at people. With that sobering realization, he bent to soak his head under the pulsating jet of water.
Severus entered the kitchen as Hermione was pulling the steaming moussaka out of the oven. She placed the casserole on a hot plate and turned to the refrigerator. He was curious to see what else she'd made and was pleased to see a simple Greek salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, red onions, olives and crumbled feta with a garlicky olive oil and lime dressing—something light would complement the heavy moussaka.
"It will be ready in just a few minutes." Hermione smiled. "Would you mind setting the table?"
He was taken aback by her pleasantness—by all rights, she should have stormed out, never to return. Instead, she was in his kitchen preparing a meal. Silently, he moved to do as she bade.
Within moments, they were seated across from each other at the kitchen table.
"Ms. Granger, I would like to apologize for my earlier behavior." Severus kept his eyes lowered, unwilling to meet her gaze.
"It's all right," she replied quietly.
"No, it's not. You have only shown me kindness these past weeks and… and Lena would not be pleased with how I have repaid your kindness."
"Lena would not have been pleased?"
He shook his head.
"What would she have done? What was she like?" Hermione asked.
Stunned by her question, he looked up at her. No one had ever asked about Helena, but then, no one knew he had been married. He had never spoken of her to anyone… he just now realized how isolated she must have felt—as isolated as he felt, now, with no one else knowing. He took a deep breath and began, "Helena and I, we met the summer before you started at Hogwarts…"
He talked for hours, eventually moving to sit on the couch in the study as he shared his life away from Hogwarts, away from Voldemort, and away from being Dumbledore's spy. He spoke of how his wife had balanced him, had been a horrible cook, and had a passion for Muggle murder mysteries—it was as though once he started, he couldn't stop.
When he caught Hermione holding back a yawn, Severus glanced at the clock on the mantle and was startled to see it was past ten. "I'm sorry; I should not have kept you so late. You're tired."
"No, don't apologize. I've enjoyed myself, learning about Helena and Melissa. They both sound like wonderful people, people I wish I could have met. This is what a wake is —sharing stories and remembering those we love whom we have lost. But it is late, and I should be going if we are going to go to the cemetery tomorrow morning."
Without thinking, Hermione leaned over and gave him a hug.
"I'll see myself out—be ready at nine."
After hearing the front door close, Severus made his way to his bedroom, candles winking out as he passed them. In his room, he prepared for bed and, for the first time in years, drifted to sleep with lightness in his soul. Tomorrow would be difficult, but he would manage it—somehow.
After the emotional upheaval of the last week, the visit to the cemetery was rather anticlimactic, in Hermione's opinion, but seeing the graves side by side, still mounded with fresh dirt—but without a marker—seemed surreal… it was as if they could be graves of strangers.
Severus was quiet—it was as though the last week had drained him of strength. The words were said, prayers were offered, and together they returned to his home, where Hermione had left her bag.
Retrieving it, she hesitated. "Well, um, I guess I'll be going." She wanted to tell him if he needed anything he should call, but was not sure how he would respond to such sentiments. He had been withdrawn all morning—the difference between this Severus, the man full of rage and grief, and the loquacious dinner companion of the previous night left Hermione's head spinning and uncertain.
"Yes, yes, I am sure you have much better things to be doing. I appreciate your assistance with all of… well with…," he replied awkwardly.
"Severus, are you going to be all right? That is—do you want some company today?" Her face flushed at her boldness.
"You needn't watch over me Ms. Granger. I assure you I will be fine," his tone nearly as acerbic as the night before.
"Very well. I will check back in with you later, then."
"That won't be necessary."
Hermione left his house was with a heavy heart, but she could not force the man to accept her company—her comfort—when he didn't want it. All she could do was follow through with her responsibilities as a Funeral Director—there were still other rites and rituals that would need to be fulfilled in regards to Greek Tradition, and she meant to see they were observed.