Ten Years Dead
Title: Ten Years Dead
Challenge: Haunted House challenge (see tags)
Team: DE
Words: 100 x 13, Art
Rating: PG
Warning: illusion to suicide
Char: Hermione and SeverusAuthor: irishredlass69 Artist: droxy
Summary: Hermione and Severus mark the years following his death and "life" as a ghost.
Notes: Photomanip using 6 different photographs, all photos are mine or public domain. Harry Potter is not ours, and we do not make any money from this. Special thanks to lariopefic for beta work on the fic and to dixiebell12 for art quality control. Thanks to dozmuffinxc for being Hermione. Originally posted to celebrate_sshg.
Severus pushed at the invisible barrier keeping him from passing through the veil. He could hear voices: Albus, Fred Weasley, Charity Burbage and Lily. Dear, sweet Lily.
He hoped he’d been successful in his promise to keep her boy safe.
He tried looking for a way to crossover, but he could see nothing; forward and back, it was all a blur. Mist and fog clouded his vision.
“Professor Snape!”
He heard a voice calling his name. He knew that voice, but why was the Gryffindor know-it-all calling his name, and why was hers the only voice he could clearly hear?
∞∞∞
Had it really been one year since Nagini attacked and he’d bled out on the floor of the Shrieking Shack? Time seemed stagnant.
One would think there’d be a way to commemorate such an occasion, but Severus found himself at loose ends.
It was a startling realization to find he had been denied the final reward of death. He mused as he looked down at his own hands, now even more pale than they had been in life.
Severus cocked his head at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Just what was Miss Granger doing here? Or was it Mrs. Weasley?
∞∞∞
Another year come and gone, Severus mused as he floated about the derelict Shrieking Shack. Not even the overabundance of dust was disturbed by what passed for his pacing. He glided above the floor boards, leaving not a trace of his presence. Thus, so it was easy to conceal his existence when he heard the rush of approaching footsteps. He watched with curious eyes.
Hermione flung herself upon the lounge, causing a plume of dust to cloud the air. She seemed not to notice.
“Good riddance, Ron,” she said, and burst into tears.
“Well, well, what is this?” he drawled.
∞∞∞
Severus wondered if she would return this year. Though the boredom was extreme, he had no desire for all and sundry of the wizarding world to haunt him. Had it been a mistake to reveal himself to Miss Granger?
The sun had barely set when he once again heard her footsteps upon the loose boards below.
“Sir, Professor Snape, it is Hermione, Hermione Granger,”
There was no reason he would become a ghost. There were only two reasons wizards became ghosts; unfinished business and fear.
He’d accomplished everything and no one could call Professor Snape “coward.”
He was a mystery.
∞∞∞
“Yes, Miss Granger, what is it that brings you here yet again?” he drawled. “Surely I made myself clear when I sent you running from here just last year?”
“I jjj…ust had to be sure. It really is you,” she stammered as she circled his transparent form.
“In the un-flesh, so it would seem.”
A nervous giggle escaped Hermione. “You made a joke!”
“And so I did. What say you?”
She smiled with humor and laughter dancing in her eyes, “I would say sir, death becomes you.”
His answering chuckle was a balm to her soul sending shivers up her spine.
∞∞∞
Since that last meeting a year ago, Hermione had returned more frequently to the Shrieking Shack, and Severus found himself anticipating their visits.
When he complained of the lack of stimulation, she endeavored to make death more bearable by providing reading material and even a wireless.
Once a month, she would arrive laden with books and periodicals. Then they would pass a pleasurable hour or two discussing the materials she had provided.
Tonight would be special, though, because tonight was an anniversary of sorts. This was the third year since he had revealed himself, and the third anniversary of his death.
∞∞∞
“Severus?”
Hermione’s soft call brought him away from his musings. She was Hermione now and had become such over the past year through conversations, debates and confessions. He had learned of her failed romance with the illustrious Mr. Weasley, and he had opened up about what had really happened between him and Lily Potter.
It did not take a Legilimens to know Hermione was troubled when she entered the room. Cosmetic Charms could not hide the turbulence echoing from her eyes.
He glided by her side and, with immense concentration, brushed her cheek with his ghostly fingertips. “What troubles you?”
∞∞∞
Severus once again found himself waiting for Hermione. He was used to waiting. In life he had been a spy; spying always involved waiting: waiting for a summons, waiting for the war… waiting to die.
His relationship with Hermione had given him a taste of what he had dreamed of in life.
How had she come to mean so much to him? If he were not mistaken, the feeling was mutual. Which made what he must do all the more difficult.
Severus thought if he had a heart, it would break.
He had to send her away… for good. So she could live.
∞∞∞
Severus experienced first hand what he had witnessed in life, ghosts could feel and ghosts could weep; as he watched Hermione flee from the Shrieking Shack, silver glistened on his ghostly visage.
Only the knowledge that for once he had done the right thing kept him from going as insane as the Bloody Barron, Peeves, and Mad Eyed Moody rolled into one.
She needed to have the chance to live her life.
He had nearly folded when she wept against the door as she bid him farewell, but it was for the best.
He wanted her to have the life he dreamed of.
∞∞∞
Years passed, and Severus continued to haunt the Shrieking Shack.
Hermione had honored his request. She could do nothing more because he had been right. She loved him. She, Hermione Jean Granger, had fallen in love with the ghost of her dark Potions master.
She tried to live. She really did, but happiness seemed to always be as illusive as the mysteries of the universe. She was content in her job, heralded for her intelligence, and she doted on the children of her friends, but she was not happy.
Severus watched from afar and wondered if he had done the right thing in sending her away.
∞∞∞
Ten years, ten years ago today, I died, Severus thought. He passed the day as he had all the previous ones since he had sent Hermione away… thinking of her.
Preoccupied, he did not hear her enter the shack.
“Severus?”
His cloak whipped around him in a mockery of who he once was as he turned to face her. She was lovely, resplendent in dress robes, but still a shadow lurked behind her eyes.
“I have tried it your way,” she stated without preamble, “and I am done trying to be happy when I am not.”
“What are you saying?” he whispered.
∞∞∞
“I think you know what I am saying, Severus. In the last ten years, the only time I have been truly happy is when I am here with you. I won’t let you send me away again.” Her voice shook as silent tears flowed from her eyes.
“Hermione, I have nothing to offer you. Even if I were alive, what would I have for you but a life of ridicule by your friends?” He sighed in frustration.
“Come join me in celebration,” she offered as she wiped her tears away. She pulled a bottle and goblet from her bag. Severus watched as she poured a measure.
∞∞∞
She held the goblet up to inspect the blood red liquid, as Severus watched her.
Her eyes shifted to focus on his ghostly features. With a small smile she raised the glass in salute, “Happy Tenth Death Day, Severus.”
Severus looked on in horror as she slumped forward, passing through his ghostly form. He watched as the contents of the goblet spilled to the dusty floor, one drop quivering in the moonlight on the lip of the glass.
He heard her whisper, “Dance with me.”
He could do nothing more, wanted to do nothing more, as he took her into his arms while her body cooled across the room.
Challenge: Haunted House challenge (see tags)
Team: DE
Words: 100 x 13, Art
Rating: PG
Warning: illusion to suicide
Char: Hermione and SeverusAuthor: irishredlass69 Artist: droxy
Summary: Hermione and Severus mark the years following his death and "life" as a ghost.
Notes: Photomanip using 6 different photographs, all photos are mine or public domain. Harry Potter is not ours, and we do not make any money from this. Special thanks to lariopefic for beta work on the fic and to dixiebell12 for art quality control. Thanks to dozmuffinxc for being Hermione. Originally posted to celebrate_sshg.
Severus pushed at the invisible barrier keeping him from passing through the veil. He could hear voices: Albus, Fred Weasley, Charity Burbage and Lily. Dear, sweet Lily.
He hoped he’d been successful in his promise to keep her boy safe.
He tried looking for a way to crossover, but he could see nothing; forward and back, it was all a blur. Mist and fog clouded his vision.
“Professor Snape!”
He heard a voice calling his name. He knew that voice, but why was the Gryffindor know-it-all calling his name, and why was hers the only voice he could clearly hear?
∞∞∞
Had it really been one year since Nagini attacked and he’d bled out on the floor of the Shrieking Shack? Time seemed stagnant.
One would think there’d be a way to commemorate such an occasion, but Severus found himself at loose ends.
It was a startling realization to find he had been denied the final reward of death. He mused as he looked down at his own hands, now even more pale than they had been in life.
Severus cocked his head at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Just what was Miss Granger doing here? Or was it Mrs. Weasley?
∞∞∞
Another year come and gone, Severus mused as he floated about the derelict Shrieking Shack. Not even the overabundance of dust was disturbed by what passed for his pacing. He glided above the floor boards, leaving not a trace of his presence. Thus, so it was easy to conceal his existence when he heard the rush of approaching footsteps. He watched with curious eyes.
Hermione flung herself upon the lounge, causing a plume of dust to cloud the air. She seemed not to notice.
“Good riddance, Ron,” she said, and burst into tears.
“Well, well, what is this?” he drawled.
∞∞∞
Severus wondered if she would return this year. Though the boredom was extreme, he had no desire for all and sundry of the wizarding world to haunt him. Had it been a mistake to reveal himself to Miss Granger?
The sun had barely set when he once again heard her footsteps upon the loose boards below.
“Sir, Professor Snape, it is Hermione, Hermione Granger,”
There was no reason he would become a ghost. There were only two reasons wizards became ghosts; unfinished business and fear.
He’d accomplished everything and no one could call Professor Snape “coward.”
He was a mystery.
∞∞∞
“Yes, Miss Granger, what is it that brings you here yet again?” he drawled. “Surely I made myself clear when I sent you running from here just last year?”
“I jjj…ust had to be sure. It really is you,” she stammered as she circled his transparent form.
“In the un-flesh, so it would seem.”
A nervous giggle escaped Hermione. “You made a joke!”
“And so I did. What say you?”
She smiled with humor and laughter dancing in her eyes, “I would say sir, death becomes you.”
His answering chuckle was a balm to her soul sending shivers up her spine.
∞∞∞
Since that last meeting a year ago, Hermione had returned more frequently to the Shrieking Shack, and Severus found himself anticipating their visits.
When he complained of the lack of stimulation, she endeavored to make death more bearable by providing reading material and even a wireless.
Once a month, she would arrive laden with books and periodicals. Then they would pass a pleasurable hour or two discussing the materials she had provided.
Tonight would be special, though, because tonight was an anniversary of sorts. This was the third year since he had revealed himself, and the third anniversary of his death.
∞∞∞
“Severus?”
Hermione’s soft call brought him away from his musings. She was Hermione now and had become such over the past year through conversations, debates and confessions. He had learned of her failed romance with the illustrious Mr. Weasley, and he had opened up about what had really happened between him and Lily Potter.
It did not take a Legilimens to know Hermione was troubled when she entered the room. Cosmetic Charms could not hide the turbulence echoing from her eyes.
He glided by her side and, with immense concentration, brushed her cheek with his ghostly fingertips. “What troubles you?”
∞∞∞
Severus once again found himself waiting for Hermione. He was used to waiting. In life he had been a spy; spying always involved waiting: waiting for a summons, waiting for the war… waiting to die.
His relationship with Hermione had given him a taste of what he had dreamed of in life.
How had she come to mean so much to him? If he were not mistaken, the feeling was mutual. Which made what he must do all the more difficult.
Severus thought if he had a heart, it would break.
He had to send her away… for good. So she could live.
∞∞∞
Severus experienced first hand what he had witnessed in life, ghosts could feel and ghosts could weep; as he watched Hermione flee from the Shrieking Shack, silver glistened on his ghostly visage.
Only the knowledge that for once he had done the right thing kept him from going as insane as the Bloody Barron, Peeves, and Mad Eyed Moody rolled into one.
She needed to have the chance to live her life.
He had nearly folded when she wept against the door as she bid him farewell, but it was for the best.
He wanted her to have the life he dreamed of.
∞∞∞
Years passed, and Severus continued to haunt the Shrieking Shack.
Hermione had honored his request. She could do nothing more because he had been right. She loved him. She, Hermione Jean Granger, had fallen in love with the ghost of her dark Potions master.
She tried to live. She really did, but happiness seemed to always be as illusive as the mysteries of the universe. She was content in her job, heralded for her intelligence, and she doted on the children of her friends, but she was not happy.
Severus watched from afar and wondered if he had done the right thing in sending her away.
∞∞∞
Ten years, ten years ago today, I died, Severus thought. He passed the day as he had all the previous ones since he had sent Hermione away… thinking of her.
Preoccupied, he did not hear her enter the shack.
“Severus?”
His cloak whipped around him in a mockery of who he once was as he turned to face her. She was lovely, resplendent in dress robes, but still a shadow lurked behind her eyes.
“I have tried it your way,” she stated without preamble, “and I am done trying to be happy when I am not.”
“What are you saying?” he whispered.
∞∞∞
“I think you know what I am saying, Severus. In the last ten years, the only time I have been truly happy is when I am here with you. I won’t let you send me away again.” Her voice shook as silent tears flowed from her eyes.
“Hermione, I have nothing to offer you. Even if I were alive, what would I have for you but a life of ridicule by your friends?” He sighed in frustration.
“Come join me in celebration,” she offered as she wiped her tears away. She pulled a bottle and goblet from her bag. Severus watched as she poured a measure.
∞∞∞
She held the goblet up to inspect the blood red liquid, as Severus watched her.
Her eyes shifted to focus on his ghostly features. With a small smile she raised the glass in salute, “Happy Tenth Death Day, Severus.”
Severus looked on in horror as she slumped forward, passing through his ghostly form. He watched as the contents of the goblet spilled to the dusty floor, one drop quivering in the moonlight on the lip of the glass.
He heard her whisper, “Dance with me.”
He could do nothing more, wanted to do nothing more, as he took her into his arms while her body cooled across the room.
