Witch Hunt

23

June

She was buried in St-Jerome's Graveyard, along with all the other Potters. Snape had begun taking his son there weekly, after her burial. There had been no funeral, she had not wanted one. Still, every time he was there, he saw familiar faces paying their respects.

That day, he was surprised to find a woman standing before the grave. In the year and a half since Kate's passing, he had never seen her there. Not once. He had never received any letter, never heard any news -bar the occasional article in the Prophet.

He smirked, eyeing the way she shifted her weight on the balls of her feet. A habit she had never quite shaken, a tell-tale sign she was anxious. He admired her for a moment, the pale purple of her sundress flattering as the midday sunlight hit her skin at just the right angle to give her that sun kissed glow.

He sidled up to her silently, looking down at the tombstone, his son fast asleep against his shoulder. With one finger, he caught her pinky, startling her. The woman gasped, turning toward him quickly. He held back a laugh, catching her eyes. Unnerved, she swallowed thickly. "Severus!" She exclaimed breathlessly, her hand on her chest. "I didn't expect to run into you."

The corners of his lips rose, his gaze trailing along her face. "I can see that," he replied. "Hello, Hermione."

She was entirely flushed and took a settling breath. She knelt down to take a small child into her arms. "This is Rose," she introduced. "Rose, this is Professor Snape. He might be your teacher someday."

She beamed at the babe, kissing her temple. The witch radiated love and his heart squeezed. His own wife would never hold their son that way. The Potions' Master raised a brow at the girl. "An honour, young Miss Granger," he said, dipping his head.

"We came to see Kate. Sir, I'm so sorry," her voice caught and she cursed her sensitivity. She had not even known Kate that well. She had been a terrible friend.

Snape nodded once. "As am I," he responded quietly.

Hermione swallowed thickly. "I meant to write. I just- Actually, I'm not sure why I didn't after I left Justin once the law broke. I should have. I'm sorry we lost touch." She was rambling, nervous about being around the man she had so desperately yearned for.

Snape shrugged, shifting his son about in his arms. "Katie ordered me to write you. Post-humously, if you can imagine. I could not find the courage to."

The brightest witch of her age giggled. The woman was meddlesome as ever, even from beyond the grave. "She certainly loved you. She must have."

"In her way," he conceded. The boy in his arms moved, turning to nuzzle into the coarse wool of his father's coat. As if reminded of his son's presence, he leaned his cheek atop his head. "This is Helios. The most temperamental boy I have ever known."

Hermione laughed again, the sound coming to warm his bruised and broken heart, gone cold over the years for anyone other than his own child and the curious little witch before him. "Can you blame him?" she asked. "With the parents he has, the poor thing never stood a chance."

The man accepted her joke and granted her a small smile. "Careful now. We must not speak ill of the dead."

It was a sobering reminder that the boy was motherless. That despite the easy banter, they were standing before her grave. Rose had been playing in the grass just moments earlier.

Helios stirred, waking and kissing his father's cheek. "Dada?"

He sighed at his son's question, setting him down before the tombstone. "We have arrived, Helios. Say hello to your mother."

Hermione heard a garbled "Mummy," from the boy, and the grave was quickly forgotten as he turned his attention to the little girl as her mother set her down next to him.

The Potions' Master waved his wand, a wreath of irises forming and landing at the base of the large stone. He curled his fingers, producing one more blooming bud, which he offered the young woman before him. She smiled in thanks, accepting the colourful flower, and tucked it behind her ear. He admired her for a moment, watching as an attractive blush painted her cheeks and ran down her chest. Her lower lip caught between her teeth. Unable to stop himself, he used his thumb to wiggle it free. A familiar motion from long ago.

Hermione reddened, the colour in her cheeks darkening, though she had not minded the gesture. His finger brushed along her jaw, before falling away. "I do not blame you, Hermione," he said gently, watching as she shifted her gaze. "No one could have known this would happen."

A tear ran down her cheek. "I'm so sorry,"

He raised a hand to quiet her, shaking his head. He took her into his arms, tucking her just beneath his chin and he breathed slowly, taking in her scent. Holding her the same way he had the last time they had seen each other. "Should you ever need a place to stay," he started, tightening his hold on her. "Dunbeath is far too lonely for the two of us. We would be honoured to have you both."

Hermione looked up at him quickly. "Come live with you?" She asked, flabbergasted.

He nodded slowly, swaying as he held her. "I should have fought harder for you, little witch. All this trouble could have been avoided. I could have stopped her."

She exhaled slowly, thinking. "'All this trouble' have names you know. They're sitting right there," she was grinning at him, the decision was an easy one. She would not let this wizard escape her a second time.

Despite the hurdles, the obnoxiously long detour, and the difficult challenges they had faced, it appeared she would get to spend her days by his side after all. "We'll have each other now. I don't plan on leaving you again."

He huffed a laugh, squeezing her. "Gods, finally. I have had quite enough of your running off." He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "You'll come to Dunbeath, we can continue where we left off."

Her eyes watered. Merlin, was she ever lucky. The universe had brought him back to her through unorthodox and heartbreaking means, but he was hers again. "I was a fool," she whispered. "Marriage to you would have been so easy. Nothing like Justin."

He smirked. "You have yet to suffer me, little witch,"

She giggled, kissing his jaw absently. "It will be my privilege to suffer you. To share a life with you. I understand that now."