Severus sighed when he saw the Owl approach and recognized it as Ms. Granger's. He knew what message it would carry—after having been so vulnerable, he had made a point to research traditional Greek burial rites himself. It was the twenty-ninth day since the burial, and he had no doubt she was contacting him to make plans to visit the cemetery on the morrow.
He was of two minds about this—on one hand, he was comforted to know he was honoring Lena and Bee by following the traditions reflective of their heritages, but on the other hand… he didinot/i want to go back, didn't want to see the mounds of dirt covering their lifeless forms, nor did he wish to be reminded they were really gone. This was what really bothered him—there had been so much wasted time, so many things he'd taken for granted.
He forced himself out of his memories before that line of self-recrimination spiraled out of control and unburdened the owl waiting before him.
Ms. Granger suggested a late afternoon tea followed by an evening trip to the cemetery. This was a deviation from her previously established pattern, but one that would work for Severus—he had returned to Hogwarts, and there was much to be done before the start of term, only two weeks away. If he met with the teaching staff in the morning, no one would need to know about his later meeting with Ms. Granger. He scrawled his acceptance of meeting time, then reaffixed the reply to the bird's leg and offered it an owl treat for its trouble.
The next day, Severus was notified by the gargoyle guarding the stairwell to the Headmaster's office when Ms. Granger arrived. With a wave of his wand, he set the staircase in motion and released the hidden panel to admit her; moments later she knocked on the office door.
Severus greeted her with reserve. Throughout the morning, thoughts of their task for the evening had intruded into his mind, breaking his concentration—so much so, Professor Sprout had inquired after his health and suggested he see Madam Pomfrey.
Hermione responded with a question, "Would you want tea now, or after? I've brought Spanakopita tarts and a Greek lemon cake." She motioned to her satchel.
"Later, if that would be acceptable to you," Severus snapped, then cringed at his brusque tone as Hermione raised her eyebrows in question.
He sighed and tried again. "Ms. Granger, Hermione, I…" He turned toward the unlit hearth and began to pace. After taking several steps and a deep, steadying breath, he stopped and met her gaze. "I don't know if I can do this—I know that I ishould,/i and I know it is the right thing to do for ithem/i—but I...," his voice trailed off.
He felt relieved as he saw realization dawn on her face and crossed the room to look out onto the grounds. He heard her footsteps behind him; then she gently rested her hand on his back as she said quietly, "It has been a month now. You've moved back to Hogwarts, and I bet there have been times—days, even—when you have been able to put Helena and Melissa out of your mind."
He braced himself against the window casing, then hung his head at her words and nodded in agreement.
She continued as she moved behind him and began to knead his tense shoulder muscles, "You feel guilty for moving on with your life. Perhaps you feel guilty because you're glad to have days not filled with grief."
Severus sighed again. Her gentle ministrations were undoing him—he felt the too-familiar tension leave his shoulders.
He replied as he turned to face her, "All you say is true, and more, but not here and not now. I need to see Lena and Bee." He cringed at how his voice was roughened with barely-suppressed emotion.
Hermione nodded in agreement, then quietly followed him out of the office and across the grounds to Apparate to the cemetery.
The late summer sun still hovered high in the western sky, casting shadows through the trees. As they approached the graves, Severus was visibly pleased to see the sod had been laid—the sight of fresh grass taking root instead of mounds of fresh dirt clearly eased his tension.
He motioned at Hermione to sit with him, graveside. "I know the Trisagion must be recited, but I have some things I need to say first."
"Of course," Hermione replied as she took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
They sat in silence for several minutes, their clasped hands suspended between them. Severus had bowed his head, his hair curtaining his face—unconsciously Hermione mimicked his pose and allowed her mind to wander to thoughts of those she had lost, as well.
When finally he started to speak, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Helena, I am sorry. There are no words able to express the depths of despair I feel for forcing you into isolation. You did not deserve the life marrying me resulted in—you always said that as long as we had each other you were happy, but because of me you lost out on so much life even before it was taken from you. You must have felt so alone, waiting for the precious few moments I could spare for you and Melissa... I am so grateful we were blessed with such a beautiful gift as our daughter—you were a wonderful mum, and I… I'm sorry I missed so much of our lives together and the life of our sweet Bumble Bee. I love both of you and always will."
Hermione could hear the tears in his unsteady voice—her own tears flowed freely at his unburdening. She took a shuddering breath and started the Trisagion, "Agios O Theos…," smiling to herself when she heard his voice join hers.
After returning to Hogwarts, Severus led Hermione to the private quarters located above the Headmaster's Office. He felt out of sorts—almost nervous—as he gave Hermione a tour of his rooms. It wasn't as if she were the first person, male or female, to have visited his rooms—both Pomona and Poppy had been to call, as well as Filius—but this felt different. She wasn't a colleague, and it wasn't just that she was a former student… the difference wasn't unsettling—just the opposite, he felt more comfortable in Ms. Granger's presence than he did the other professors.
He stopped walking as he realized he'd missed something she'd said as he mused. "Pardon me?"
Hermione repeated herself, "If you will show me to the kitchen, I'll get the Spanakopita in the oven."
"Ms. Granger, you ido/i know this is Hogwarts—there is no electricity, here."
"Yes, but I ialso/i know—from iHogwarts, A History/i—that all staff quarters are equipped with wood-fueled kitchen stoves." She smiled.
"So, it iis/itrue."
"What is true?"
"When you were a student, there were rumors that you could quote that book chapter and verse, as if it were the Bible."
Hermione blushed and opened her mouth to retort.
"Relax, Ms. Granger—I assure you, you're not the only one who considers knowledge power. I was iteasing/i." Severus felt his face heat.
The stunned look on her face triggered Severus' laughter—he couldn't recall when he'd last relaxed enough to enjoy a deep, genuine belly-laugh. The sight of Hermione flustered at his mirth only made him laugh harder.
It occurred to him that on this visit to the cemetery he had left a great deal of the debilitating, strangling guilt behind.
Hermione was startled by the pecking of an owl at her kitchen window. She hurried to let the bird in. It was only mid-October, but winter was making its presence known already—the temperature had dropped substantially over the last fortnight, and there was a feeling of early snow in the air.
After struggling to open the casement against the cold wind buffeting the window, she fumbled for an owl treat before removing the message from the bird's waiting leg.
As she unrolled the scroll, she recognized Severus' familiar scrawl on the parchment. It seemed he was taking a more proactive approach to the next ritual and wanted her to accompany him two nights hence, after joining him for dinner in the Great Hall.
Hermione hadn't given much thought to the remaining four visitations required by Greek Tradition, thinking that he'd finally started healing at their last ritual and would no longer need nor want her there to guide him. It gave her a warm feeling inside to know he still wished to include her. Pulling out her date book to note the appointment, she sighed sadly when she saw the date—her parent's thirtieth wedding anniversary. She felt a twinge in her heart when she remembered the celebrations they had planned.
Two days later, she awoke with a splitting headache and called Eileen, asking her to reschedule her appointments. Hermione rarely deemed herself ill enough to cancel meetings with grieving clients, but the three month ritual that evening was quite enough to face on this date.
That evening, she Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, then sent her Patronus to request admittance—with school in session, the gates were now warded. The wind was fierce and as she quickly chilled to the bone, she wished she could have just walked in, as she had in August. Soon she saw Severus billowing his way across the grounds.
"My apologies for the delay, Ms. Granger—there was an incident in the Potions Classroom, and I needed to help Professor Malfoy begin an antidote for the dunderheads involved."
"iProfessori Malfoy?" Hermione hadn't heard he had taken a teaching position.
"Yes. When Minerva passed and I was promoted, I needed to find a Potions professor quickly. Fortunately, Draco was available and consented to teach at Hogwarts if I would oversee his final year of study—in six months, he will complete his Mastery," he explained.
Something occurred to her. "Would you prefer ihe/i attended tonight's ritual with you?" she asked as they made their way up to the castle.
He turned and looked at her with surprise in his eyes and was that… hurt?
Seeing his expression, Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but he quickly replied, "No, Ms. Granger, I would not prefer that Draco attend. As you should recall, no one knows of Helena and Melissa's existence except you. And although I have been increasingly at peace with their loss, I do not care to attempt to tell others about them. Do you… not wish to attend?"
"No, no that's not it," she hastened to reassure him. "I just thought, since Draco is your godson, and now in close proximity, that you'd prefer him present as a member of your house. I'm honored you asked me."
Nothing more was said as they entered the Great Hall for dinner. Severus offered her his arm, and she rested her hand at the crook of his elbow as they made their way to the Head Table.
Hermione was glad she'd remembered to wear wizarding robes this evening—so many heads turned and so many people whispered to their neighbors, it sounded as though a roar rippled through the Great Hall. Severus guided her behind the staff members already seated, where she was greeted by her former Professors with smiles and puzzled expressions, and held her chair as she sat. Hermione wondered how he was going to explain her presence this evening—she didn't have long to wait.
"Silence!" the Headmaster's voice boomed across the hall. "Yes, this is the famous war heroine, Hermione Granger. If you have any other questions… I suggest you keep them to yourselves. Eat!"
Severus glared at her as she giggled to herself, "You find something amusing?"
"It's just so nice to know some things don't change. I can see you're as personable a headmaster as you were as a professor, sir." She smiled.
Severus found himself struggling not to grin at her observation, "And I can see you are still an incorrigible know-it-all." He allowed one corner of his mouth to raise, briefly, to let her know there was no harm done.
Hermione blinked. iDid Severus Snape just make a joke?/i Her head was spinning, trying to catalog his ever-changing moods.
After dinner, they made a hasty exit to avoid questions from the staff. After Apparating, they lit their wands—unlike two months ago, the sun had long set, and they needed to light their way through the dark cemetery.
This time, when they reached the gravesides, Severus did not hesitate, but took Hermione's hand as he kneeled between the two graves. There were no formal headstones yet, just the concrete slab provided by the cemetery. She made a mental note to talk to him about formal markers—they should be placed at the one year anniversary and would need to be ordered soon.
After the recitation, he turned to her, shifting to sit, and took both of her hands. After a gentle tug, she joined him on the ground.
They sat together for several quiet minutes until finally he spoke, "I hope you understand how much I appreciate all that you have done, both for me and for my family. I don't think I could have made it through this were not for your support."
Hermione felt a leaden ball of guilt form in the bottom of her stomach. For the first time—after all the years in business and all the funerals—she felt like a fraud. Here was this strong, brave man thanking her for her guidance and support, and she had yet to muster the courage to travel the path of grief and healing herself. She still needed to let go of her family and grieve for her loss—for they now were, and must be, dead to her.