Chapter Text
Wizards and witches from all over the world gathered to mourn the death of their Chosen One. Rumors began to circulate about what had caused her death. Some speculated that it had been another battle while others thought that it had been a secret assassination by a still-loyal Death Eater seeking revenge.
Nonetheless, countless numbers gathered as the coffin was lowered into the ground with all of the ceremony and well-wishing the world could give.
Away from it all, in a secluded part of a forest, were those who had been closest to her. They had gathered to mourn and honor her in their own way. Everyone gave a speech and a tribute before shedding tears for their departed friend.
There were two wizards who weren’t at either gathering. Blaise Zabini was instead standing on the doorstep of Severus Snape, holding a sealed envelope between them.
“You were the only one she could write to,” was the only explanation he gave as Severus took the envelope.
Zabini turned and left, disapparating before he had crossed the street. Severus closed the door, looking at the envelope in his hand.
He could leave it someplace, collecting dust for years to come. Or he could simply burn it, letting the parchment and ink turn to ashes before it ever reached his eyes. Whatever she had to say, he didn’t need to hear.
So he set it on a shelf someplace out of sight—Severus had enough respect for the dead that he wasn’t going to destroy a dead girl’s last words...at least, not yet.
Years passed by and the envelope began to gather dust, remaining untouched all the while. The wizarding world slowly began to rebuild itself and the muggles slowly began to forget the horrors that Bellatrix Lestrange had brought down upon them.
Children came to Hogwarts and left, each on greeted with the same speech Severus had given to his previous first years. Minerva had allowed him to return to Hogwarts, offering either the ability to teach Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had elected Potions, happier to conceal himself in the darkness of the dungeons.
From his students, he caught word that Neville Longbottom had taken over as the Herbology Professor once Sprout had decided on indefinite research into a rare magical herb. Remus Lupin had also returned to Hogwarts as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor; though Nymphadora Lupin would take over while her husband was busy working with the ministry to ease the treatment on werewolves.
The Great Hall slowly began to merge as the four separate colors soon mixed into shades of green, blue, yellow, and red. Students were still sorted, but it was more of a way to assign classes and dormitories than houses. Points remained to be awarded and taken away, but no one cared which colored banners decorated the Great Hall at the end of each year.
Still, years passed. A new hoard of Weasley children ran through Hogwarts, red hair and new robes now making appearances in blue, yellow, and even some green robes. The Forbidden Forest was once again graced by the presence of two strange Scamander children wearing butterbeer cork necklaces for good luck, petting the thestrals that came to visit despite never seeing a single one themselves. A Longbottom sat with his father at the edge of the Black Lake, discussing various herbs and plants while another was instructing her Weasley cousin in the art of Quidditch and Wizards’ Chess. A young Lupin and Black crouched behind a corridor, snickering and high-fiving one another as a prank went off in the hall, joined by their elder Weasley mentors. Two Malfoys sat in the window of a corridor once between classes; the elder son wearing green while the younger sister wore red.
But it wasn’t until he walked into his classroom to greet the next brood of first years that Severus ever thought again about the letter. It wasn’t until a young witch by the name of Elaine Zabini answered his question about where he could locate a bezoar. It wasn’t until he once again saw Cassandra, a distant memory, sitting in his classroom all those years ago answering the very same question.
“Professor?” Zabini asked, prompting him out of his memories.
“Yes, that is the correct answer,” Severus muttered. “A bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat that is said to be capable of curing most poisons. Five points to Ravenclaw.”
It wasn’t until he recalled the same young man who had brought him an envelope all those years ago that Severus found himself sitting at his desk late one night, a dust-covered envelope addressed to him lying on the wooden surface.
He turned it over and broke the wax seal, pulling out the pieces of parchment within.
Blaise told me that I should write to someone. He said that it should be someone that I wanted to talk to, but couldn’t. Rather difficult as I can’t imagine many people I would want to say good-bye to. Never been one for the tearful things.
But I guess you should know that I’m going to try and bring him back. The Dark Lord. I never meant to kill him. There are ways that I can do it. It involves dangerous magic, so I don’t know if I’ll actually get a chance to see you. Hopefully I can finish this before the curse takes me. Merlin, I’m hopeful. I have to be. This is the only way to make up for what happened, after all.
I don’t know if you’ll ever actually read this. You don’t remember me, so why would you open up something from me? Memory spells are difficult to reverse. I doubt you’ll ever remember me….
To you, I was only your student, after all. A passing face amongst an ocean of others. Maybe you remember me in passing at Riddle Manor during those times I visited? Or maybe I’m just hoping that there’s more you recall than I want to believe.
But to me, you were more.
Yes, you were my dad, but you were more than just my dad.
You were the one who taught me Occlumency. You were the one who spent hours into the night, teaching me how to control my magic. You were the one who kept me practicing, who kept me researching, who kept me working to control what I was afraid of.
You were the one who shielded me from the bad memories. You were the one who rescued me from the Dementors and from every bad thing I did with my magic. You were the one who tried so hard to keep the prophecy and Dumbledore from interfering with whatever life I was supposed to have growing up.
You were the one who let me choose to be a Death Eater or the Chosen One. You were the one who brought me to the Dark Lord. You were the one who hid me from aurors and the ministry. You were the one who protected me.
You were the one who showed me the true love of Potions. You were the one who showed me my mom after years of asking. You were the one who showed me how subtly she could influence those around her without a single wave of her wand. You were the one who showed me how beautiful you thought she was. You were the one who showed me how she could make everyone loyal to her no matter what they felt before.
But most importantly, you were the one who didn’t care. Death Eater, Chosen One, whatever I was, you didn’t care.
You were my dad. That was all that mattered. It’s all that will ever matter.
And it’s why it hurts, knowing that you’ll never remember. The stories you read to me, the games we’d play…. The way you’d light up mom’s grave every Christmas holiday at midnight with your patronus….
Please come back, dad. Please. I want you back. I want everything to go back to the way it was. I want you to be my dad again. Just for one more minute even if it’s the very last thing that I ever get to see.
I want my dad back.
Please.
I just want him back.
I love you, dad.
I’ll always love you. Always.
Promise.