They say that the greatest mystery is death, our inability to truly
see what lies beyond our last hearbeat save for at the time of
Oh how wrong they are. For love is a far greater mystery. For
like death we no not the hour of it's coming nor the manner by
which it might manifest itself. Like death love knows not age
nor reason, nor does it ally itself to the rules laid down by those
who crave its warm presence. That (and by that I mean 'the law')
is something which lovers rather than love must obey and be
subjected to, for even when the lovers are not allowed a
yearned-for caress or kiss, the love between them is not diminished.
And so it was with Hermione Granger and Professor Severus Snape,
student and teacher at Hogwarts. For many years, ever since she had
blossomed at the age of sixteen from the girl she'd first arrived as to the
promise of the woman she was to become, they had shared a secret
The first morning of her age of consent brought with it the promise
joy. She would be returning to Hogwarts that day, for a very special
reason. At last, she knew, she would feel the gentle caress of
Professor Snape's lips against her own.
Her heart was light as she made her way to Hogwarts, but darkened
as she saw the great castle lie in ruins. And amidst the ruins... there...
even more twisted, more mangled than the wreckage around it... lie
the body of Severus Snape.
No other body, nor sign of severed limb was to be seen in that great
wreckage. It angered the already broken heart that her beloved should
be left to perish whilst all around him, everyone else was doing their best
to get to safety. Although she would readily admit that in her first year or
two at Hogwarts, she have gladly left him there as well, she could not
accept such a thing from anyone now. She'd made an effort to get to
find his heart, and they could have done the same thing, if they weren't
so goddamned lazy!
Carefully removing the debris from the twisted wreckage that was once
a man, Hermione drew the cold, stiff body into her arms, her tears falling
upon the ashen face as she placed her first kiss upon unbreathing lips.
She held him as she kissed him, her tears falling ever more quickly
his face as thought of the future they would never share.
Wait a minute? Was that a breath she had just felt upon her lips? And
had it been her imagination, or had the twisted body changed from its
dreadful aspect to one of splendid repose?
Hermione opened her eyes, though she hardly dared, fearing they
would confirm her fears that what she had felt was the mere fancy of
a heartstricken girl.
Instead, however, to her joy and wonder, she found Snape, no
longer twisted, no longer dead, resting in her arms. Her heart beat
with gladness as their lips at last joined in that gentle expression of
their love that had waited so long to share.
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