Strength in What Remains Behind

Severus

I wish I could say I became a changed man in the weeks leading up to the Yule Ball, but that wasn't true. I still enjoyed the same things I had before. The only difference was that I allowed myself to enjoy them. Mainly it meant that I scowled less as I engaged in a bit of snark or took house points. It was liberating.

I had agreed to be a chaperone at the ball this year, as always. I was looking forward to rousting students out of the bushes. Also, it would serve as a bit of a distraction. It was hard to learn how to forgive yourself for living, and some days were very difficult to get through. I probably could have gone to the old man for comfort and advice, but I didn't know how to ask. I had suffered alone through quite a lot in the years since I left Hogwarts as a student, so I was more comfortable dealing with it by myself.

The ball was as fun as I had hoped it would be. I nearly cackled with glee every time I came across a couple snogging in the bushes. I did come across Malfoy and the Weasley girl at one point, but I turned a blind eye to it. I'd allow them a free pass tonight, though, as per my conversation with Draco, if I caught them again all bets were off.

Once it seemed as if I had emptied the gardens of ridiculous teenagers, I made my way back through the dance and into the hall, in case a few couples had thought to slip by me by heading into its darkened corridors. I moved down the hallways slowly, checking alcoves and nooks as I went, though each spot yielded nothing but deeper shadow.

I stopped as I heard footsteps. I was momentarily pleased until Potter strode into view, alone. I gritted my teeth and held my head high. I did not stop the boy. His eyes seared me every time I looked on his face lately. I did my best to avoid noticing he was even there, and to his credit, he passed me with equal silence and disregard.

My spirits were still dampened despite the brevity of the encounter. I continued down the hall, though it was no longer with pleasure. As I rounded the corner, I saw with surprise that someone was standing alone in an archway to a smaller corridor. I approached quietly, to give them a chance to flee. I really wasn't feeling up to playing the cold authoritarian anymore tonight, but I knew my duty.

As I grew closer, I saw it was a girl standing there motionless. Her head was down and a few loose curls served to obscure her face from my view. I came quite close to her and stopped, leaning down to get a better look at her face. "Just what are you doing, standing here in the hallway? Waiting to meet a boy for a secret tryst?" As I spoke, she looked up at me, and the rest of my forced speech died in my throat. It was Miss Granger, and she was crying.

I stared at her, flustered, as the tears spilled down her cheeks. She was crying so quietly that I would never have known if she had not looked up. She looked at me for a few moments, and then, shockingly, she moved forward, her hand reaching up to caress my face as she brushed her lips across my cheek. "Happy Christmas, Professor," she spoke in a near whisper. Then she slipped away from me and moved down the hall like a ghost.

I watched her receding form, one hand absentmindedly rising to feel the dampness her tears had left on my cheek.