Night had fallen, and all was still.

Hand-in-hand, they listened to the crunching sounds of the icy snow beneath their shoes as they walked the winding cobblestone streets of Godric's Hollow. The wind whipped through the willows, their branches like streams of tears trickling down onto the undisturbed snow at their roots.

"Perhaps we should come back tomorrow."

"We're not waiting even one day more. This is long overdue, Severus."

"Yes, but... It's starting to snow. Aren't you cold?"

Theda laughed.

"I'm from Massachusetts. I think I'll live."

Severus was quiet, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"I know this isn't easy for you... But it's something you need to do."

Severus let out an anguished grunt.

"Lily would want you to be happy."

"You keep saying that, but I'm not sure it's true."

"Well, that's why we're doing this. It's time the two of you cleared the air."

"I don't see what you're expecting me to get out of this... It's not as if she's going to say anything back."

"You never know... The veil is thin this time of year."

"What?"

"The veil. You know, between our world and the spirit world."

"Oh, don't tell me you believe in all that... that... superstition."

"Well, I don't know if I personally believe it, but millions of witches and wizards all throughout history believed that the dead would come back to walk the earth this time of year. Especially on the night of the winter solstice, which, as luck would have it, is tonight."

He gave her a surprised glance.

"Tonight? But... How long have you been planning this?"

"I haven't been! I only just came up with the idea for us to come here this morning in the Great Hall. I didn't even realize the solstice was today until I had already started packing."

Severus narrowed his eyes, his skepticism apparent.

"Well, I don't know about all that ancient pagan nonsense, nor do I expect to witness any ghostly processions crossing the "veil"... But perhaps you're right. Perhaps it's time to... to come to terms with things. And there are some things I need to get off my chest."

"I'll walk with you until we find her grave."

"And then what? You aren't staying with me?"

Theda looped her arm through his, clinging to him for his body heat as they continued walking through the dark rows of Tudor-style cottages toward the graveyard.

"I think I would be a distraction. I want you to get something out of this and I don't think you'd feel you could speak as freely if I were there."

He cast his gaze to the snow at their feet, giving no indication that he'd heard her.

"Plus, if I were around you might not be able to hear her if she says anything. I'll find something to keep myself busy so you two can have your privacy."

"You make it sound as if you're expecting me to have a dialogue with a headstone."

"Well, you said you've heard her speak to you before, right?"

"Just a couple of times. I'm not even so sure now that it wasn't just my mind playing tricks on me."

"Just try to keep an open mind," She said as they passed through the cemetery gates.

They remained silent as they passed through the rows of headstones. The muffled music from a nearby pub and the occasional hooting of an owl were the only sounds that could be heard besides their own footsteps.

"Lumos," Theda whispered, using her wand to illuminate the faintly etched names on each grave they passed as Severus withdrew his wand and did the same. Theda was still searching when Severus came to an abrupt halt.

"There," He said, pointing his wand in the direction of a large headstone several rows over.

Theda pocketed her wand before taking both his hands in hers.

"I'll leave you to it, then. I'm going to have a little walk around the main square, maybe see if any of the shops are still open. How much time do you think you'll need?"

"How the hell do you expect me to gauge how long I'll need, especially if I'm to be met with a parade of dead pagans? I suppose they'll all be wanting a turn to speak."

She rolled her eyes.

"That's the last time I share an interesting tidbit with you, smartass. It's your loss too, because I've got a lot of really interesting ones."

"You don't have the restraint. You couldn't last a day without spouting off your history facts."

"You think you know me so well, don't you?" She retorted.

"I think it's safe to say I do. There is, however, still much you don't know about me. There are things I still haven't told you..."

She shook her head dismissively.

"Don't worry about that right now. We're getting to know each other better every day, and we've all the time in the world. I've learned so much about you today, and I hope one day to know everything about each other. But before that chapter begins, you need to finish this one."

He gave a resigned nod.

"Give me 20 minutes or so," He responded.

"Perfect. I'll meet you back here after I've had a look around town."

He nodded, but as Theda attempted to leave he couldn't help but hesitate to release her hands.

"I'm not sure how to begin something like this," He mumbled.

Theda gently squeezed his hands.

"Take your time, and remember there's no right or wrong way to pay your respects. If you can't think of what to say, just spend a few minutes thinking about her and all she meant to you. Then, when you feel compelled to speak, just talk to her like you're talking to me. No one's listening."

"Okay... I'll try."

She gently kissed the back of his hand before he finally released her from his grip. As she turned to leave him she flashed him an encouraging smile and whispered, "Good luck," as she walked away.

He watched her leave before letting out a long exhale and marching with an air of hesitation toward the large headstone.

For several minutes he just stood there, his mind completely blank as he stared at the letters etched in stone.

"James Potter. Born 27th March 1960. Died 31st October 1981.

Lily Potter. Born 30th January 1960. Died 31st October 1981.

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

"Lily Potter," He mumbled to himself. "Potter."

As he stood there, alone in the dark, the snow piling onto his shoulders, it occurred to him that he had never considered what her headstone might say. He didn't like to think about it, didn't dare to picture her as he knew she was, her cold body lying in the ground, her perfect skin rotting away, her beautiful face now hollow and discolored. He preferred to remember her as she was in life - warm, soft, and so full of light. And yet, it was not so long ago that he had held her lifeless body in his hands - icy, hard, and soulless, like a statue carved from marble in a long-forgotten time.

Though the essence of her spirit that lived on in his memory had always been so vivid; so real he could swear it had kept him warm even on the coldest nights... He could feel whatever trace he had left of her growing cold as he stood there, his eyes transfixed on the ground just 6 feet above where her body lay. It felt as if something was being taken from him as if the final traces of her soul were being drawn into the ground beneath his feet.

"It's strange," He began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strange that you lived as Lily Evens for 19 years... You were only Lily Potter for only two years. And yet it's his family name that will be remembered for centuries, not yours. It doesn't seem fair."

He went silent again for several minutes, lost in thought. The more time he spent thinking about it, the angrier he became. His eyes strayed to James' name, permanently etched in stone beside hers, claiming her as his own for all eternity. Even in death, it felt as if James once again had the last laugh. Tears began to sting his eyes as the building rage inside him reached a breaking point.

"Why did you have to marry him? Why did you have to choose him of all people? If you hadn't, it might be your name on that stone... Better yet, perhaps you'd still be alive!"

He fell to his knees, collapsing on the ground as 11 years' worth of grief finally began to pour out of him.

"You could have lived... I would have protected you... I tried to protect you... But you chose him. Of all people, why did it have to be him? He could never have loved you as I did. He could never have protected you as I would have if you'd have let me!"

For the first time since the night she died, he began to weep. He lost track of the minutes as he allowed the grief to overcome him. He clawed at the earth, his fingernails tearing into the frozen ground as if he expected to find her peacefully resting face just inches below the surface. As he became more and more worked up his sobs turned to dry heaves until he felt he might be sick.

Eventually, he began to regain some semblance of composure, coughing as his voice had become hoarse from wailing without restraint. He repositioned himself on the ground as he caught his breath, resting his back against the headstone.

"This could have been avoided," He muttered. "I know I made mistakes, but... Don't you understand? I did it for you! I did everything for you. I know to you it seemed I was a power-hungry fool, but why do you think I wanted that power? To protect you. To keep you safe."

He shifted uncomfortably on the icy ground, hugging his knees in an effort to preserve his body heat.

"We could have had a life together. We could have had power, protection, the Dark Lord's favor... And I know it wouldn't have been the life you envisioned but at least you'd be alive," He spat coldly. "Instead you're in the ground with the scum who took you from me. Was it worth it? Was he worth dying for? Was he worth abandoning your son for?"

He looked over his shoulder, ensuring he was still alone before continuing.

"The boy could have been our son. We could have raised a family together. I always loved you, from the first day we met... You became my family. You were everything I'd never had. You were kind to me, cared about my well-being, even liked me and enjoyed my company. No one else has ever done that."

A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Actually, that's not true... Someone has come into my life. Someone who does care about me, and, as hard as it is for me to understand why, she does genuinely seem to enjoy my company. Truth be told, she's the reason I came here. She seems to be under the impression that this is something I needed..."

He sighed heavily, feeling a hint of relief as some of the pressure left his chest.

"She was right, of course. She usually is. I didn't realize how much I had been suppressing all these years. I didn't realize I was so angry. Angry at James, angry at myself... And angry at you."

Suddenly, he covered his head and let out a loud, "Fuck!" as he felt an unexpected whoosh fly over his shoulder from behind, his heart stopping.

"Just a bloody owl," he murmured to himself as he watched it land on a tree branch a few yards ahead, catching his breath. "For a moment I thought..."

He couldn't help but let out an almost amused chuckle as he regained his bearings.

"The woman I mentioned," He whispered, still worried that someone might hear him, "Her name is Theda. She's got some cockeyed notion that the veil between worlds is thin tonight. She seems to be under the impression that this is a particularly favorable night for speaking with the dead... As if they could actually speak out in response."

He was silent for a minute, part of him secretly hoping that somehow she'd actually find a way to speak to him. To absolve him of his sins. To tell him she wanted him to be happy. To say something. When no voice came, he let out an incredulous scoff, as if he couldn't believe he'd actually allowed himself to suspend his disbelief even for a moment. He let out a resigned sigh before continuing.

"I think you would have liked her. It's hard not to. She's as brilliant as you, and she's kind. That's where the similarities end, though. Actually, in some ways, she's a lot like me, but with a more palatable temperament. Truth be told, she's a bit odd... But it's endearing. She loves cemeteries. Oh, and she's a photographer. She's got a whole series of photos just of headstones. It's the epitaphs she's drawn to."

He returned his gaze to the headstone, rereading the faintly etched words along the bottom, clearing away the snow that had begun to pile up.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," he repeated aloud. "What does that even mean, anyway? You can't destroy death. You know that as well as anyone. Even the Dark Lord tried, but... Death will find him in the end, no matter how long he manages to hide."

He took a deep breath as he tried to halt the tears that were threatening to trickle over the rim of his eyes.

"It's my fault Death came for you when he did. I'm the one who told the Dark Lord the prophecy. I didn't know it was about your son. I swear it. I never would have done what I did had I known. I shouldn't have done it regardless, I know that now. For 11 years I've had to live with the guilt, the shame. I disgust myself, now more than ever. I will never forgive myself for what I did, nor do I expect you to forgive me either, but... I need you to know how sorry I am. How I've punished myself every day since. How bitterly I hate myself."

As he lifted his gaze he could see Theda off in the distance, making her way back toward him. He took a moment to consider how he wanted to end his train of thought, hesitating as he realized how stupid he felt that he'd spent this much time talking to a piece of stone.

"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you've heard anything I've silently spoken to you over the years... but I want you to know how I've kept you with me all this time. I've spoken to you every day, confided my darkest secrets to you, done everything in my power to keep some part of you alive. A part of you that was just for me..."

He took a deep breath.

"But I can feel now that you've left me. The embers I've kindled for years have finally gone out, and there's nothing more I can do."

He finally relented, allowing his tears to flow freely.

"What I'm trying to say is... This is goodbye. I will continue to look after the boy as I have done. He's, well... A lot like his father. He makes my life a living hell, as I'm sure you'd be proud to know."

He glanced towards Theda, trying to gauge how much more he had time to squeeze in before she'd be within earshot.

"There's just one more thing... I know you must hate me after all I've done, and you have every right to, but if there's any part of you that's listening, if you still feel some semblance of friendship for me, all I ask is that you allow me this one happiness. For all these years I've felt that I deserved every ounce of misery I felt, that it was only right I should endure ceaseless punishment. I even tried to distance myself from Theda because I feared you might look badly upon us for what we've found in each other... But I just couldn't. She means too much to me. If there's any goodness in me at all, it's because of you... And because of her."

The crunching of Theda's footsteps became more distinct as she approached him, a bouquet of small blue flowers in her arms.

"I'm not interrupting, am I? I can walk around some more if you need more time."

He shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his face as she came nearer to him. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as a tiny sniffle managed to escape.

"No, you're not interrupting. I was just saying goodbye." His eyes drifted to the bouquet of flowers. "What have you got there?"

"Forget-me-nots. I bought them from one of the shops. It's a sort of tradition of mine."

"A tradition?" He repeated. "How many times have you done this?"

"Well, first for my grandmother, then for Callum, then-"

"Callum?" He interrupted. "You've never mentioned anyone named Callum."

"I haven't? Surely I must have at least once..."

"I would have remembered if you had."

"Well," She said teasingly, "Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think after all."

"Perhaps I don't," He conceded. "So you've done this a few times, then."

"Yes, I have. Death is... hard to process. It doesn't get easier the more often you have to face it, either. There's always a period of denial, so when it finally begins to sink in, I like to leave forget-me-nots at the grave. It's sort of like saying that, though the time for goodbyes has come, you'll never forget them or what they meant to you."

He nodded in understanding.

"Would you like to lay them down with me?" She asked.

"Yes," He replied, and as she extended the bouquet toward him, he gently laid his hand over hers.

The two of them crouched down beside the grave, laying the flowers down with the utmost care. They bowed their heads as they stood back up, silently paying their respects. For several minutes they said nothing until Theda finally spoke.

"Thank you for everything you've done for Severus. For being there for him when no one else was. Please don't worry about him. He's in good hands with me."

She smiled up at him as she wrapped her arms around his side, her head on his shoulder.

"Is there anything else you'd like to say, Severus?"

He shook his head, smiling softly.

"No, I don't think so. I've said what I came to say."

"Alright then. Let's get out of here."

"What, no pictures? You don't want to look around for a few minutes?" He asked in surprise.

"I thought you'd want to get out of the cold! Plus, that's not why we came here..."

"I know, but I also know you well enough to know that it's taking everything within you to resist the urge."

Theda was silent a moment, trying to think of something snarky to say, but ultimately gave in as she knew he was right.

"Oh, alright! I do really want to have a look around. You sure you don't mind?"

He smiled as he saw that gleam he had grown so fond of return to her eyes. He took her hand in his as they began to stroll.

"I don't mind. I like seeing you in your element."

She smiled at him, using her wand to summon a roll of film from her silk bag.

"Okay, but I'll be quick. It's so dark out, the photos won't be very good anyway. I expect they'll be too grainy to use in my series, but it'll be nice to have some photos to remember this night by."

He released her hand, allowing her to do her thing as he silently watched. He found himself feeling rather amused that any woman in her right mind would be so excited to meander through a graveyard on a freezing night such as this, and with him of all people. She found several graves that caught her eye, holding her breath as she did her best to stand still long enough to properly expose the images. After making her rounds, she circled back to the Potter grave and crouched down to get a good view of the headstone.

"I'm almost done, Severus. I just wanted this one last photo. It's so dark though, I can't tell if I've got it in focus."

As she continued to struggle with the lens, the grave was slowly enveloped by a dim light from just behind her.

"That's much better. Can you make it just a little brighter?"

Severus was silent.

"Did you hear me? I asked-"

Theda turned to face him but was alarmed to find she was met with only a look of complete shock, all the color drained from his face.

She followed his gaze and before she could say anything more, she saw it too. There at the gate stood an ethereal being of light.

A doe.