Work Text:
Hermione couldn’t remember how she’d gotten to their bedroom in the Cotswolds cottage she and Severus had lived in for the last 20 years together. She remembered she was bringing the groceries back from the market when she heard a familiar voice singing along to a tune she had listened to many times before.
After the war, Severus had played the piano with an almost fervent obsession, sending his thoughts and feelings to the ends of his fingertips and onto the keys. It was her life’s pleasure to sit next to him by the fire as he poured his secret soul out for her ears only.
It felt like a lifetime since he had played, the days growing busier and time together often cut short by the endless tasks required of the Head Healer and Master of Potions for St. Mungos. But no matter how busy the days were, the nights they had together were always filled with his melodic and hypnotizing voice.
Moving quietly through the house, Hermione neared the library, drawn to the notes like a sailor to the siren’s call. Her sense of unease grew as some inner thought kept worrying away at the back of her mind. She gently pushed the door open, letting the warm firelight wash over her as she closed her eyes to better feel the depth of emotion coming from the grand piano in the corner of the room.
Suddenly her eyes flew open.
“Severus?” Hermione said, almost choking over the name. Severus turned around from his playing, a breath-taking smile on his narrow face. He looked younger somehow, his hair windswept as if he had just arrived from a walk along the beach they so often rambled.
“Hermione, my love.” He said, standing and moving slowly towards her, almost as if unsure of his welcome.
“Severus, how? I don’t understand.” Hermione was reaching hysteria and Severus swept her into his arms, peppering the top of her head with soft words and gentle kisses.
“Come, have a walk with me.” Severus pulled away from her shaking frame and moved his arm down to wrap his fingers between her smaller ones.
As they walked from the library, Severus stopped in each room, drawing Hermione’s attention to all the little details of their lives together. Each picture, each accomplishment. He spoke with no little pride about the memories every small corner of this place held for him, of his love for her.
As they neared the kitchen, he faced Hermione, placing each hand on her shoulder and bending slightly to look into her eyes.
“Here we meet the crossroads my dear, but we are together, and I have waited for you for so long.” Hermione met his eyes with confusion, but her trust in him had stood the test of time, and now was no different.
Severus pulled Hermione through the doorway and held her hand tighter, squeezing it in comfort as she took in what she was seeing. On the counter was her bag of fresh produce, still holding a chill from the autumn air outside. Her eggs sat on the side table where they always stayed. Her eyes drew down to a figure lying motionless on the ground, and she took a deep breath as she understood. She saw the outline of a hand unfurled below the kitchen table, her arm outstretched with her wand laying beside her.
“All this time? You’ve been here? While I went about my daily routine? How could you bear it?”
Severus chuckled lightly, even in death– his beautiful, brilliant wife was still full of questions. “Of course I was here. I played for you every night, while you read by the fire. I will always play for you, Hermione.”
They stood staring at one another for what could have been a true eternity before Severus finally moved closer. “Now, I believe, wife, we have an eternity beyond the veil waiting for us; what say you?”
Hermione held his face between her palms and whispered, “Forever sounds amazing.”