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The sky was atypically gloomy for a summer afternoon in Cokeworth—spots of rain tapped on the window overlooking the sitting room. The soft thrums on the glass played almost like a lullaby to Severus, who was staring absently at his tea. The room was barely lit by a short, thick candle on a cupboard, filling the room with the scent of cinnamon and burnt wood. It reminded him of the winters he spent in this house, a thought that warmed his heart but also made him nearly choke.

A sudden roar of the fireplace announced the entry of Minerva, but Severus did not even twitch to see the visitor. She padded toward him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Severus, it’s time,” his former colleague’s usually stern voice softened into a comforting tone, at which Severus barely hummed in agreement and disapparated once he stood.

When Severus appeared outside the Hogwarts cemetery, all the guests were seated under the grey sky of clouds. After the Battle of Hogwarts, several fighters of the Light joined Dumbledore and laid rest at the place where they died protecting, so Minerva named the area officially. The location was not of Severus’ choice, but he did not agree or disagree. It seemed fitting and better than at Cokeworth, where she did not grow up, or at London, where none of her parents or relatives were buried there.

The warm chestnut coffin, decorated with a lavish spread of flowers, lay in the center at the end of the aisle, painfully standing out in the crowds dressed in black. Many turned their heads at Severus’ arrival, but he did not care to greet or even figure out who they were. His eye fixed on the opened coffin, with white and pale yellow roses flowing around it like water waves. They were not her favorite flowers, but he could not blame Minerva or Ginevra Weasley for picking the wrong ones, as he hardly helped them with the preparation. He felt the eyes, some curious and some accusive, boring into his skull when he walked up to the coffin, the usual reaction he received whenever he made a rare public appearance. As he got closer to the wooden box where his wife lay, the burning pain in his chest flared wider and crueler.

The piercing heartache turned into a suffocating numbness when Severus saw her face, twelve days after he last saw her breathe at the St. Mungo’s. Her expression was so peaceful, like on the weekend mornings when he watched her sleep, with her eyes all relaxed and her lips quirking so slightly at the corner as if she would break into the sweetest grin anytime. Yet, the eerily pale skin reminded him of how that grin would never appear anymore.

He froze next to her coffin until Minerva gently grabbed his arm and guided him toward a nearby seat reserved for him. After a quick whisper between Minerva and Ginevra that Severus did not care to listen, the elder witch stepped onto the podium and started the ceremony.

“Good afternoon, wizards and witches. Thank you for joining us in the memorial of Hermione Jean Granger-Snape...” Minerva’s voice slowly drifted away from Severus’ mind as his wife’s funeral started.

“Professor Snape!” An excited call of his former salutation surprised him into a jerky startle at a muggle pub in Cokeworth.

Severus turned to his right, and Hermione Granger, the well-respected war hero breaking the biggest smile, stood in a shabby pub where he expected her the least. Her outfit made her even more out of place in this factory town. The dark grey dress fitted tightly on the top and flared beyond her waist, decorated with a thin black belt and a black jacket with square shoulders that ended just below her chest. Her hair was tamed into a low bun, with a few stray strands framing her face. Her eyes radiated with a warmth that made him uneasy, which he sometimes found himself in after his past was blabbered to the world by idiot Potter during his Wizengamot trial. It was precisely why he kept himself hidden in Spinner’s End, the muggle neighborhood gratefully omitted in the public trial and avoided wizarding establishments as far as he could.

“Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise,” his sarcastic tone tipped her off his annoyance, and her bright smile pressed into a thin line. Nevertheless, she sat beside him without asking and ordered a pint of beer. They drank silently for a moment, which he decided to interrupt with the questions bugging his mind once she appeared.

“What brought you here, Miss Granger? I can hardly imagine you hunting down the mean teacher you had and plotting revenge,” Severus asked in irritation.

She broke into that smile again, “Work,” her tone still impossibly cheerful, too forced.

“A Ministry worker at a muggle town?” he turned to her, still a few inches shorter while sitting, and glared like she was in her first year.

“Unusual, but yes,” she took a sip of beer and continued, “I’m now working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” Severus subtly rolled his eyes as she recited the name like the uses of potions, which escaped her notice, “and I came here to investigate a potential kidnap of Nifflers by a muggle.”

Severus raised an eyebrow in curiosity, “Was it true then?” He remembered a crone living a dozen houses down the street, suddenly wearing flashy jewelry. Granger replied, “Yes. A 63-year-old muggle woman, very sensitive to magic. Maybe a descendant of Squibs,” she shrugged.

“Hmm,” Severus hummed noncommittally. She continued, “Handling the witch was not a problem, but the Nifflers were a challenge,” then she gulped the rest of her beer and ordered another one.

“I thought that was an Auror’s job?” Severus asked.

“Well, yes,” her expression turned embarrassed, “but when the one assigned to you was your ex, you’d rather do it alone.”

Her breakup with Weasley caused a media frenzy two years ago, as a source leaked the pair arguing at a match of the Holyhead Harpies, probably supposed to support the youngest Weasley. In the coming week, papers and magazines analyzed their history, job positions, families, and everything thinly related to arguments about whether the pair would break up—some letters asking for Severus’ correspondence on the couple’s history as students arrived at Hogwarts even. Soon enough, the pair released a public statement of their split, but the media continued reporting on the why, when, and how. Some even started to link acquaintances and friends around them, looking for clues of possible cheating or playing matchmaking. Severus secretly enjoyed some wildly imaginative pieces those “reporters” created, like Draco Malfoy seduced Granger or why Ronald Weasley should pursue Oliver Wood.

“That’s why you’re hiding in a dirty pub, drinking away your sorrows and embarrassment?” Severus asked snarkily.

Granger returned with a glare no less horrifying than his, at least to the others, “I’ve never felt embarrassed dating Ron or breaking up with him,” she took another sip of her beer, eyes avoiding Severus’, “but his nagging isn’t exactly helping.”

Severus whistled in jest, “You must be mesmerizing and unforgettable then,” at which Granger laughed.

“Oh, definitely. An enchanting witch.”

Granger caught him at the pub more and more often, with reasons less and less convincing. Professor Snape became Severus, and Miss Granger became Hermione. After some time, instead of sharing beer, the pair started to share lunches and dinners, discussing their respective work or anything of interest. For a lone man living in his childhood home, who did research or brew on his own most of the time, meeting up with Hermione easily became the only social commitment he looked forward to in his ample time. At first, he suspected how one of the Golden Trio could spare much time away from her beloved friends to meet him. However, over time, he noticed the avoidance and omittance of the Weasleys and many of her schoolmates. Potter was the only one she mentioned regularly, but they probably did not meet often, given their schedules. Her occasional sighs of melancholy and subtle fidgeting at the news of her old friends betrayed her loneliness and grief of growing up and apart.

A selfish reason for Severus to keep meeting her at the beginning was the intelligent company. Not many potioneers in Britain were willing to engage in academic discussions with him without getting jealous or trying to steal some ideas away. Hermione was far from an expert, but her instant captivation of any ideas and well-supported critiques offered him joy and comfort. He could have returned to his old colleagues at Hogwarts, but none of them, not even the new Potions Mistress of his replacement, kept up and contributed to conversations as good as his with Hermione.

Severus often showed her the progress of his research or even waited for her presence before experimenting. When their hypothesis succeeded, the spark of contentment in her eyes stirred deep waves of happiness he never had. Other than potions or concoctions he personalized for her pain or fatigue, Severus began to bring her knick-knacks that reminded him of her, wine and treats she mentioned to him, and flowers that radiated a warmth akin to hers.

One night after dinner, when the pair shared a bottle of wine at Hermione’s apartment, Severus asked the question looming in his head over four years since her graduation. “Hermione, I’ve always thought you’d pursue academics instead of politics. Why?” His voice was soft and unaccusing, simply out of care. Why did the most intelligent witch put away a future that may contribute to the advancement of magic and work at a desk job of an institution filled with morons?

A bitter smile came to her, and she answered, “A poor decision made for the wrong man at the time.” Her eyelashes batted as she raised her face to his, so awfully close that Severus felt her breath on his, “If you were the man beside me instead, then I might have become someone I wish to be.”

The world disappeared as he kissed away her regrets and reignited her dreams.

“… With her dual Mastery in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, Hermione revolutionized the disciplines with her theories and applications, such as the Model of Transitive Properties, enhancing the use of Ancient Runes in wards and protective charms, and the Applied Runic Numerology Theory, widely boosting accuracy in event and outcome prediction. Many heroes made their stand in the world young, including our dear Hermione, who brought the downfall of Voldemort at the mere age of eighteen, but she never stopped there. Her brilliance shone through her perfection in her disciplines, and she will continue to inspire and influence generations of young wizards and witches,” Severus listened to Minerva’s solemn account of Hermione’s life, the part visible to the wizarding public.

“Hermione’s early passing is a loss to our world that could never be mended. Although she’d be greatly missed, I hope we’d also find comfort in the memories of her and her contribution to the greater world that we’d continue to be immensely proud of.” Minerva bowed to a round of applause, which was unexpectedly loud. Severus finally turned around to see the crowd.

The Potters, whose grandchildren might attend Hogwarts soon, joined him in the first row. A sea of redheads sat behind them, thanks to the Weasley Matriarch finally getting over her regret-turned-bitterness against Hermione after her relationship with the youngest Weasley son ended so uglily. A few heads of jet black and brown stood out among them, and Severus guessed they were the Lupins, in addition to another spot of blonde that should probably be Luna.

On the other side of the aisle, Minerva sat with other Hogwarts teachers, including Longbottom and his family, followed by Hermione’s friends and colleagues from her fields he met a handful of times throughout the years. He could not make out the faces behind the Weasleys and the academics, but it was a bigger crowd than anticipated. He remembered Hermione mentoring many Arithmancy apprentices and Hogwarts students, whom many of them kept in contact with so that they might have attended with their families too. She had always been fond and giving to anyone crossing her paths, much to his contrary, so he should not have expected fewer people to pay their final goodbyes.

Harry stood up from his seat next to Severus and took the podium. The retired Head of Magical Law Enforcement and current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot scanned the audience with an air of calm confidence that had significantly evolved since childhood and started his eulogy.

“Hermione dedicated her life to change. We were outsiders into the wizarding world when we first entered Hogwarts, a world obsessed with my history but cruel to her roots. It was not a welcoming world for both of us, but she was determined to change it, and it became somewhere we belonged…”

Hermione’s hand squeezed him out of his reverie at the door of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Since the end of the war, Molly had been hosting reunion dinners every Christmas at the old headquarters. Most of the order members joined every year, at least for a drink, except Mundungus, who never returned after going AWOL, and Severus. He had not been able to give the exact reason for not joining. He definitely was not occupied for other activities other than spending time alone, as always, in his home. After they learned of his commitment, the company was not horrible to him either. However, the thought of going there always made him anxious because he did not know what they expected. He was not a gentle, cheerful person under his death eater persona. He was still acidic and cutting, which was a part of him, double spy or not. Therefore, he avoided the gatherings, as he did not know how to behave around these people anymore.

However, on the night of the sixth reunion dinner, Severus was standing outside with Hermione in his hand.

“Severus, if you do not wish to, I can attend alone,” Hermione asked as she placed her free hand on their entwined ones, so he squeezed her hand in assurance, “Let’s do this together.”

Hermione had been absent for two years since her breakup with Ronald Weasley. It was right after their split for the first year, and the media was still hungry for updates, so she made herself scarce not to feed the hounds but also to spare her emotional heart. However, for the second year, she was simply absent to avoid the annoying begging of the man. Hermione wanted to meet her friends in the same room again but needed someone to anchor her.

“You’re ready?” Severus asked Hermione, who nodded with a faint smile. He gave her a gentle peck on the cheek, and their hands released. Two long-time absentees arriving together would raise enough questions, and they still wanted to spare their early relationship some privacy.

Harry Potter greeted them at the door and hugged Hermione tightly. The pair excitedly exchanged pleasantries after their last meal together in October, which Severus joined begrudgingly. Potter extended his hand for a handshake, “Snape, nice to see you. Merry Christmas,” to which Severus cordially returned, “You too, Potter.” The pair agreed on a “surname” basis for the mutual friend. Severus was still quite mad at Potter’s careless blabbermouth, while Potter was still having difficulty treating his late mother’s former best friend. Severus secretly appreciated his intention to build a friendship between them. Still, Potter seemed to expect another affectionate father figure from him, who he would never be, with or without Lily.

“Where’s Ginny?” Hermione asked, smiling brightly, unable to hide her excitement.

“She’s changing in the room,” Harry tilted his head towards the stairs, “Why don’t you join her and come down later while I bring Snape to the sitting room?”

Being an auror improved his etiquette and social intelligence, apparently, so Severus gave Hermione’s arm a final squeeze before she went up. He followed Potter into the sitting room and saw most of the Order members he was familiar with there: Minerva, Hagrid, Arabella, and Kingsley.

“Severus, this is a Christmas miracle!” His former rival Head of House skipped to him quickly and enveloped him in a more-than-necessarily tight hug. He reluctantly raised a hand to pat her back and wondered how many glasses of firewhiskey she had downed. Potter gave him a look of sympathy, so the Headmistress seemed to relax more often in front of others. Hagrid gave a bone-crushing pat on the shoulder, and Kingsley shook his hand. They quickly got into a comfortable conversation, catching up with his current research and new potions.

The older Weasleys, Arthur, Charlie, Bill, and Fleur, arrived with the young children, Victoire and Teddy Lupin. The latter beamed at the sight of Potter, shouted his name, and quickly ran into his arms.

While Potter kissed his godson and mumbled at his laughing cheeks, his pregnant wife came into the room and kissed her godson, too. Hermione silently followed, nerves evident in her eyes, but most guests greeted her with cheer like in the old times.

Ginevra Potter nodded at him and greeted, “Snape,” with eyes shining smugly. Hermione seemed to have told her friend, which he assumed her husband had too.

“Mrs. Potter,” Severus nodded curtly in return.

“Ginny, please,” her smile turned genuine.

Severus smiled in return, “Ginevra, if I may?” And she nodded in compromise.

The room went into livelier chats. The eldest Weasley brothers asked after their sister while the previous champions of the Triwizard Tournament talked about their preparation for newborns, as Fleur seemed to be carrying another child. Arthur joined Minerva and Hagrid in catching up with Hermione, who blushed in relief at their warm welcome. During their conversation, Hermione sneaked a glance at Severus, radiating in happiness that made the whole affair more than worthy to endure for him. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, the younger “unofficial” Order members who joined the fight at the Department of Mysteries, arrived soon. The dreamy quality of Lovegood had always set him uneasy, and her uninvited address at him as “Severus” made him no less ill at ease.

The cheer was interrupted by Ronald Weasley’s entrance. Severus could not decide if it was fortunate or unfortunate; the uncomfortable embarrassment in the room was quickly broken off by Weasley’s realization of his presence and his involuntary shriek, “It’s Snape!”

“Your observation is still as acute as in your school years, Weasel… Pardon me, Weasley,” Severus answered with a smirk. The uncontrollable laughter from Minerva prevented the reddening Ronald Weasley from bursting into a rage, while Potter quickly ran to his best friend and dragged him to the library.

“Pardon him. Ron’s a bit dramatic,” Ginevra offered a sorry smile, “but you know anyway.”

Severus hummed in agreement, smirking at the remark.

More Order members arrived as the festive gathering resumed. When Molly called everyone to the kitchen for dinner, Minerva and Hagrid excused themselves and returned to Hogwarts. Arthur kept Severus company and asked numerous questions regarding his life living among the muggles, which were not rude but still a tad tedious to answer. The Weasley Matriarch stuffed everyone with a feast that never seemed to end. Hermione sat between Luna and Ginevra, who listened to Longbottom avidly about his budding romance with Hannah Abbott. Ronald Weasley was well insulated from his ex among his brothers, who all seemed perpetually annoyed by Percy Weasley.

Once the meal was finished and the children left with Bill and Fleur to the Shell Cottage, the table grew livelier again with the help of the liberal consumption of wine and firewhiskey. George told his incredulous tale of hunting down Irish Leprechauns for inspiration for new products, only to find them a stray group of goblins constantly high on hallucinatory mushrooms. Kingsley and Percy complained about how the Purebloods still pretended to be important figures while poking around for any chance to regain their prestige and wealth. Ginevra spilled the gossip she had overheard since she settled at the Daily Prophet. People shuffled among the group to catch up, and Severus was surprised by their genuine care for his life after the war. He did not talk much with George, as they had been writing in correspondence for long as an advisor to his product development. However, Longbottom grew out of his constant shaking in front of him and humbly asked for his advice on some particular potion ingredients and teaching. Seeing the timid boy mature into a self-assured man almost warmed his heart.

As the night went into the late hours, most older guests left to retire, leaving most of the Weasley clan, the Potters, Hermione, and Severus at the Grimmauld Place. When Severus turned away from Charlie and George’s mildly interesting debate about the appropriate domestication of dragons of smaller breeds, he saw Ronald pulling Hermione at the door to the sitting room. Severus could not determine what they were talking about, but he could catch the annoyance surfacing on Hermione’s face as the redhead’s expression grew desperate. He held both of her hands in his but got quickly shaken off. Their conversation became more apparent as the room grew quieter, noticing their interaction.

“Are you seeing someone, Mione? I…” Ronald Weasleys almost sounded like begging.

“I told you!” Hermione’s voice grew increasingly irritated, “I hate when you shorten my name.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I can do better. Whomever you’re dating, he’d never…”

“Severus,” Luna’s sing-song voice broke their conversation, “I think it’s time for you to bring Hermione home.”

The room went silent, except for Luna humming to herself as if nothing happened. The surprise on Hermione’s face confirmed his suspicion that the blonde witch somehow figured them out on her own. That was exactly why he never felt at ease around her. The Potters seemed to be deciding whether they should help dismiss the announcement. The Weasleys were speechless in various degrees of shock, horror, and amusement, mainly from George.

“The greasy git?” Ronald’s yelling broke the silence again that night, “You’re seeing that dungeon bat? How….”

A crisp sound of Hermione’s slap across his face stopped him mid-sentence, and she berated him, “Me seeing him or not, you should be respecting the man saving you on numerous occasions throughout your life! None of us will be here alive and well without him as much as any other Order members, so shove your insults back up your arse and move on!” Ronald Weasley blinked in silence as she continued, “And yes, I’m seeing him and in love with him because he respects me for who I am instead of imprisoning me around him for convenience. I’m quitting the job at the Ministry, and before you can be my friend again, don’t show up, or I’ll hex you to oblivion!”

Severus used every fiber of his facial muscles to suppress the grin growing on him due to the immense pride overwhelming his heart at his fierce lover defending him. He stood up, nodded to the audience frozen in place, and said, “Merry Christmas,” and walked towards Hermione, slipping his hand around her waist. At the corner of his eyes, he saw the amused smirk of Ginevra and suspected that he and Hermione wore the same snark at Ronald, but they stormed out of their sight and flooed right back to his home.

Once they stepped out of his fireplace, Severus pulled Hermione into a passionate kiss, not caring about the soot floating around them. As the pair pulled away and noticed how silly they looked, covered in grey soot except for the lips, Hermione murmured a cleaning charm but still smiled dreamily at his affection.

“I love you too, Hermione,” Severus lovingly cupped her chin, but she quickly backed away and covered her mouth with her hands.

“I’ve never intended to let you know in that way,” a hint of regret crossed her face.

Severus closed the distance, holding her shoulders, “Declaring your love while shutting up all Weasleys? It’d only make me love you more, witch.”

The pair attended the reunion again next year, and Ronald Weasley cleverly avoided them. If Molly had grown colder to them, they pretended not to notice. The others seemed to have processed the idea and spread it around, as no attendees, including the ones absent at the scene, seemed surprised by them holding hands in attendance. Some still appeared a bit disturbed by their relationship, not that it was any of their business, but Severus and Hermione kept their physical affection minimal. They were not comfortable with public displays anyway.

He and Hermione kept in close touch with the Potters and visited them often after the birth of James Sirius, the culmination of the two people Severus despised the most. Fortunately, James the Second inherited deep auburn hair from his grandmothers, which was much more pleasing to his eyes as he was the second copy of James the First. When Ginevra became pregnant again, Potter asked permission to name the baby boy Albus Severus, which he immediately denied. He did not need an innocent child to carry down his not-so-innocent “legacy.” Therefore, Potter opted for Albus Remus instead, but Severus and Hermione agreed to be their children’s godparents. Still, it was a pity that Hermione forbade him from mentioning Potter’s evident obsession with names ending with s to others. He bet the Daily Prophet would be reporting it to the world anyway.

In the same year of Albus Remus’ birth, Severus and Hermione got married.

On a warm afternoon during springtime, they did the hand-fasting ceremony under the witness of their closest friends.

When they planned their wedding, Hermione was doing her Arithmancy apprenticeship under Bertha Henot in Germany, so the pair only had a little time to prepare. They rented a well-secluded cottage south of Hogwarts Valley with a spacious back garden. With the help of Ginevra and Luna, the garden was scattered with flowers of different colors and shapes, more than Severus could ever name. He waited in his dark green, almost black, dress robe down the aisle for his bride, and time stood still when Hermione appeared in her simple champagne white dress robe, hair flowing down her exposed neck and shoulders, topped with a flower crown in white, yellow, and pink that matched with her bouquet. The tiny white specks of petals sprinkled in her loose hair shone like stars in a clear sky, and the long train of her robe followed her like foamy waves gently crawling to the shores. Her slightly blushed cheeks and dazzling smile radiated on him like the quiet sun in the morning. Everything of her reminded him of everything perfect, and Severus was certain nothing would ever be as flawless.

Severus did not remember what Minerva said when she officiated the ceremony, how the guests smiled or cried at their vows, or the cozy dinner they shared under the charmed floating lights. The only vivid moment burned in his mind was how right it felt when Hermione’s left hand wrapped in his, and the golden threads of magic flowed from their golden and silver wedding bands into circles around their bodies until they all dissolved into bursts of light rushing into their hearts. Hermione’s eyes twinkled in such gleam that all stars dimmed, and Severus could not remove his eyes from her for all eternity, at least for what he felt.

“… not only did Hermione change the world, she touched our hearts and changed our lives. Since the first day we met on the Hogwarts Express, she’d become my family, Ginny’s long-awaited sister, the patient friend who walked many of us out of limbo, the wise mentor who aided us through trying times, and the brilliance that made the world better, but now less wondrous without her.”

Harry bowed to the attendees, who were gently clapping for his delicate tribute to Hermione. Many of their eyes glistened in tears, but more of them beamed at the memory of their beloved friend.

Hermione had always carried that magic around her. Her experience transformed her pointed critique into gentle guidance, and her selfless commitment to her friends and causes stood the test of time. In her youth, she was an outcast trying to fit in. She pushed hard to prove her worth to the wizarding world to ensure a place to stand. As she matured and grew, she became the lighthouse by the shore, searching for people in need and guiding them through the storm.

After the birth of Lily Luna, Potter and Ginevra’s relationship grew strained as the husband busied with his position as the new Head Auror, and the wife felt abandoned in her domestic duties and caring for the three children. Hermione put down her projects and took over Grimmauld Place on weekends or over long holidays to spare the couple for retreats. Severus remembered the beginning days and nights of the boys running around wreaking havoc while the youngest cried for her mother. However, soon enough, Hermione figured out the switches and tics in every child and managed them all with ease. They had never wanted children, but she showed how capable she was if she ever wished to have any.

She took the students in Hogwarts as hers too. For years, she volunteered to visit muggle-born first-years and introduced them to the wizarding world. She brought the families to Diagon Alley to shop, invited the children over for dinners to show them what a magical household looked like, and kept writing them letters asking about their adaption to their lives in Hogwarts. Over twenty years ago, Hogwarts was once attacked by a group of Voldemort synthesizers. As Hermione’s improved wards on the school grounds alarmed her, they flooed right in and joined the fight. Most students were safe, if not minor injured, but much of the interior, especially the greenhouses, went aflame. She briefly returned to her political life by advocating blood equality, lobbying for more severe punishment toward blood status discrimination, improving the identification process of potential threats, and raising funds to rebuild and enhance the damaged facilities at Hogwarts. After that fight, she sat down at the hospital wing and wrote a list. “Three months,” she murmured to herself, and on the ninetieth day, she checked every item on the list. She could not have done it alone for sure, and being the best friend of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and knowing several seats at the Wizengamot definitely helped. Her cordial relationship with his former Slytherin students also granted her access to resources and advantages easily provided as a favor to improve their reputation. Nevertheless, Hermione’s pure determination drove those changes into reality.

During one of the long nights she spent writing new laws and twitching the Arithmancy formulae used by the Magical Law Enforcement, Severus brought her tea and cakes to force her into a break she otherwise would not take.

“Oh, thank you, Severus,” her tired eyes squeezed as she smiled at him, and he kissed her forehead while putting down the tray.

“How is it moving along?” Severus asked as he mechanically pushed her mug toward her, taking the adjacent seat in his pajamas.

She grabbed her mug and brought it close to enjoy the aroma of fresh chamomile. “Good,” she sipped, “probably not as good after this cup of tea. You should be waking me up with it, not relaxing me.”

“It’s four already, my love,” Severus grabbed her free hand and folded it in his, rubbing her temple gently with another hand, “Sleep for a few hours before heading to the Ministry at ten?”

A lazy yawn came out of Hermione, and she nodded to his suggestion. After vanishing the tea and levitating the cakes back into the jar, Severus followed Hermione into their upstairs bedroom. She quickly slipped back into her nightdress, crawled into bed, and patted on his pillow. He lay down and pulled up their duvet, facing Hermione, whose eyes blinked like a mooncalf in the dark.

Severus raised an eyebrow at his foolish-acting wife, who chuckled at his teasing, and the pair fell into light giggles.

“I haven’t felt so alive in such a long time,” Hermione sighed.

“Alive, as in reckless teenagers partying dusk till dawn?” Severus raised his eyebrow again.

“Stop, you,” she gently slapped a hand on his chest, which he quickly took in and kissed, “I mean,” Hermione continued, “My first job at the Ministry was not my dream, but,” she laced her fingers in his, “when I first started, reading the files of actual people or creatures suffering, I hoped one day I could do my part to change it, you know? Really change it,”

Severus nodded silently while she continued, “I still hope for it, even after going into my masteries. Sometimes, when I was brewing tea or watching the kids joking around, the thought came back to me.. like… I hadn’t made use of my time there. I haven’t left any mark and changed anything inside that institution,” her grip tightened, “I have a feeling. It’d work this time. I’d leave my mark there.”

Severus pulled her in for a brief kiss. “You always leave a mark wherever you go, Ms. Hermione Granger-Snape, Order of Merlin (First Class), Mistress in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, Honorary Professor of Hogwarts, Advisor of…” Her hands covered his mouth, and a string of laughter followed.

“I know! I’m an overachiever, I know!” Hermione rolled her eyes at her smirking husband, “I took your advice, stopped having too much on my plate,” Severus rolled his eyes this time, remembering her crazy week of attending four Arithmancy conferences, hosting two guest lectures for the Ministry workers while editing three academic papers and attending Lily Luna’s graduation ceremony.

“But,” she ignored his disapproving eye roll, “I know I’d finally be satisfied after making this bill happen,” Her eyes blinked with purpose, “because then I made this world better.”

Severus’ tone turned solemn, “You’ve always made it better,” he dropped another kiss on her forehead, “especially mine.”

“Severus… Severus!” Harry whispered, shook his shoulder gently, and pulled him back to reality: Hermione’s funeral.

“It’s your time,” Harry tilted his head towards the podium and took his seat.

Severus rose and whispered, “Thank you.” Then he walked into position.

He looked at Hermione in the coffin again and waved his wand. The white and yellow roses transfigured into orange and yellow tulips—her favorites.

Severus ran his hand through his hair, nervousness catching up with him. After his trial, he spent most of his days hidden from most. Besides their wedding, yearly festivities, and occasional invitations extended by Hermione to her colleagues or mentees, he seldom met other people, let alone such a crowd. He swallowed to moisturize his dry throat and cleared it, catching the audience’s attention. Most of them look expectant, if not distracted. What did they expect from him?

“Thank you, everyone, for coming together today to bid a final farewell to our beloved Hermione. Thank you, Minerva and Harry, for giving the beautiful speeches about how Hermione transformed us, our community, and the world.”

Severus berated himself for such a dull, cliché opening to the eulogy dedicated to his wife. His wife!

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, seeing Hermione’s hair blowing by the soft wind near a quiet lake.

“To the world, Hermione Granger-Snape was a war hero, the genius behind the Golden Trio, and the advocate for justice. To our friends and her students, she was the sage counsel for our troubles and the unwavering support whenever needed. To our extended family, Hermione was the aunt and sister who celebrated every one of your triumphs, pushed you through every struggle in life, and pointed out every grammatical mistake and logical flaw.”

A wave of soft chuckles spread among the sea of redheads.

“However, above all, to me, Severus Snape, Hermione was my love. My wife.

She was the floating log when I nearly drowned in the sea of loneliness; she connected me back with the living instead of dwelling with the dead. She’s the light guiding me out of the dark whenever it crept in again, and her pure smile reminded me of all the good that still exists amidst the bad.

Hermione was the first sight I woke up to and the last before I closed my eyes at night. Her scattered parchment once covered every inch of our home, while her frantic murmurs during calculation filled the empty walls. She smelled of tea in the morning and of jasmine at night. She gave me all my reasons to return home, which was wherever she was.

Although she indeed belonged to the wizarding world, striving for betterment each and every day, Hermione also belonged to me, the wife to the quirky old man. She embraced my every flaw and cherished them. Even I still find it hard to fathom at times: why did this brilliant witch love the damaged man?

I thought of writing a much less personal eulogy to reminisce about her good deeds or the adventures she shared with many of you. Nonetheless, I made the selfish decision to make it about us because there are already new waves of academics and justice seekers continuing her work and contribution, young wizards and witches being the new leaders for the next generation. However, no other person after Hermione would have loved me so deeply. No one I can ever return my love to.

She had been one of the brightest stars in the world, but for me, Hermione was my only sun and moon.”

Severus turned to Hermione, lying peacefully in the sea of blooms, and continued, “We’d try our best to live without you, my love,” his voice trembled, “but it’d never be the same.”

When the mediwitch from St. Mungo’s summoned Severus barely two hours after his departure, he knew it was time.

A year ago, Hermione was cursed by an ancient artifact during her research. It was not evident at first, but gradually, she grew weaker and thinner, which prompted Severus’ attention. The diagnosis came up quickly; they knew the source, but the problem was the cure.

They tried every possible angle with every specialist they knew. After seven months, Hermione decided to run an arithmetic calculation on her own for the very first time, and she accepted the limited time she had left in the material world.

She spent the rest of the year visiting all her friends, explaining her inevitable demise, and made the trip to Australia to see her parents’ graves. Severus used the time to prepare remedies and relievers at the ready, so she endured less pain and made better use of the remaining time instead of wasting away on her bed. The Potters and Weasleys called a few more family gatherings than usual for their Aunt Hermione. She laughed and enjoyed their company, but he noticed a few of them eventually excused themselves and sobbed in a quiet corner.

As the end drew closer, the more resolute Hermione became. She settled all her affairs, assigned ongoing projects to her trusted prodigies, and wrote final words for her dearest friends. However, the hollow in Severus’ heart kept expanding, waiting to swallow him whole eventually.

Severus walked as fast as he could into her private room. She almost looked like she was napping under the afternoon sun. Her grey hairs stood out from the rest as they shone under the sunlight like the petals in her hair on the day they married. Her eyes closed, and her breathing was barely noticeable, shallow, and weak. Severus gently ran his hand from her forehead to her jaw, caressing the wrinkled skin that still reflected a pearly glow.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, and a smile blossomed on her face, “You’re here. It’s time.”

“I know,” Severus nodded in agreement, choking back his tears, “I won’t be able to live long without you,” a silent tear ran down his face and dropped onto her tunic.

“No, Severus,” Hermione raised her hand shakily to reach him, so he took it to cup his face, and she continued, “As long as you live, our love still exists. Do this for me, will you?”

Severus nodded in tears and leaned in for the final kiss, salty and bitter. The pair spent the last moments holding each other, and before Severus could ever feel prepared, Hermione took her last breath in his arms.

The dirt settled on the coffin, revealing the white marble gravestone:

The attendees gave their condolences to Severus and the Potters, which he hardly paid attention to. His mind drifted back to the final moments of her in the St. Mungo’s, spiraling in his grief. When Harry patted his back, everyone was gone except for them.

“Severus, join us on Tuesday for dinner?” Harry asked.

Severus nodded silently. He would keep his promise to Hermione as long as he could, and he was certain she ensured that by assigning the Potters a final few tasks.

“My pleasure,” he forced a smile, which Harry returned a strained quirk of lips.

“See you then?”

Severus nodded again, and Harry left to join his family.

His first instinct was to return home, but Severus thought somewhere better. He closed his eyes, picturing tall oak trees in the sun, and then apparated to the Forest of Dean.

Every now and then, Hermione and Severus camped there, especially when she missed her parents. The memory charms were never reversed, so Hermione only dared to revisit her parents through their memories occasionally.

They visited the forest more often when they first started dating. The time was usually spent scouting for potion ingredients, watching the quiet streams, sitting by the lake, and looking at the stars. The forest provided them with an escape from the judging eyes and a calm space for them to dream of a future.

Before Hermione left for her apprenticeship at Munich, the pair camped at the Forest of Dean again. They set up the tent at a clearing near the lake, which reflected a purplish gleam during sunset.

Although Severus had rehearsed in his head numerous times, his hands trembled as he prepared to start, so he grabbed Hermione’s in his instead to steady him. Still oblivious of his intentions, Hermione looked up curiously at him, “Severus?”

“We haven’t been seeing each other for long, so I understand if you think otherwise,” he nearly mumbled the words to her, so he took a deep breath to calm down, which drew concerned eyes from her.

“People have been calling you the brightest witch of your age, which is a total understatement to me. Your worth expands far beyond your intelligence, ability, or courage. You picked me up when I was trapped in the swirl of depression and guilt. You’ve ignited the fire in my heart again, to dare to dream for a future instead of being suffocated in the past,” Severus saw her tears welling up in her eyes, and he knelt on one knee.

“Hermione Granger, I can’t offer you wealth or an easy life ahead. However, I can promise you, with all my life and soul, I’ll love you until the day I die. I’ve lived a difficult life before you, lost between masters, and even when I’m liberated, I’ve never found a will to live. But you, Hermione, showed me how precious life could be when love is returned. You brought me hope and joy that I haven’t been able to see for so long. So please, before you go for your dream, allow me to ask,” Severus picked out a golden and silver band from his pocket and asked, “May I have the honor to have you as my wife so I can enjoy the pleasure of spending the rest of my life with you, taking care of you, until death do us part?” His heartbeat dominated every sense of his until he saw the clear teardrops from her eyes as she nodded.

“Yes, Severus, even beyond death do us part.”

Severus had never seen any moon or star brighter than the ones that night.