"Unanswered Prayers"

“I’m ready.” Hermione called out from the kitchen of the cottage.

Flatley’s midnight sun gave its most brilliant displays between 21:00 and 01:00, blazing color across the sky as it chastely kissed the horizon before ascending once again to its pinnacle.

“I spoil you. Why must you insist we walk at midnight? There’s no moon. I thought romantic walks were best experienced under ‘moonlit skies’?”

“Have you always whinged this much?”

“Only since spending time trapped with you, Gryffindor. I used to live blissfully a-lone.”

“That won’t work, Severus. I’m not going anywhere; you don’t scare me anymore.”

“Unfortunate, that.”

Severus held the door for her and they left, descending the porch steps to the path through the nearby pine woods.

“Tell me, please…; I don’t remember anything but trying to find my way to your rooms.”

“Merlin’s blood… You made it that far then gave out. I apparated you to the medical wing.”

“I thought only aurors could apparate in Hogwarts.”

“And headmasters. Including former. Hermione? Did he… force you?”

“You saw the bruises?”

Severus nodded.

“I wish he had…,” she sighed, “then I wouldn’t feel like an idiot. I consented — I just hadn’t realized what I’d consented to. Ron’s always been impatient; he frustrates easily. Probably explains why he left Harry and me during the horcrux hunt.”

“He left you???”

“Yes, but let’s defer that conversation for another walk. You hate him enough as it is.”

“Have he and Potter reconciled?”

“Somewhat. Ginny owled me that Harry realizes Ron’s his best mate and his brother-in-law. He’s still angry at him, though. So’s Mrs. Weasley. She owled me to tell me she still considers me part of her family and she will evict Ron whenever I come to visit. Oh! And she still expects to be my children’s grandmother.” Hermione chuckled heartily.

Severus marveled that she could laugh after what she’d suffered.

“I’m sorry, Severus.” 

“How did you manage to graduate from Hogwarts as valedictorian with such a small, unimaginative vocabulary?”

“I’m sure you suffered through these last four months… I didn’t take care of you, so I’m sorry.”

“Hermione…”

Severus hated this necessary closure, hated having to rehash for her his rage, his fear and his remorse.

“You left immediately after my miscarriage. Where did you go?”

Hermione stared at the ground while they strolled, dry-eyed. The path wound its way through a patch of mountain wildflowers before branching back towards the cottage.

“You stayed with me for 6 days and nights, Severus. Why did you leave?” 

“Legilimens…”

Hermione scarcely registered the touch of his wand before her mind filled with his memory…

He apparated into the loveliest part of the old cemetery — ancient cemetery, really. Prince family ancestors silently reposed here dating back over 1700 years. The older section wouldn’t do; too many trees hid the sunlight. The dark shade perfectly suited his fore-bearers, invested as many were in the darker arts, but his memory told her it would not do for a child of the light.

The place he chose received sunlight all day. Centuries would pass before any foliage encroached on this area. Mentally he made a note to update his will; he would lie next to her so she wouldn’t be alone or afraid, as ridiculous as that thought was. His eyes looked to the bundle and a spell moved through his mind: a misty image rose from his charge and the real Hermione sobbed. A baby girl shimmered in the mist, auburn-haired, curled up on her tummy with chubby legs tucked under and sucking her thumb with a contented expression. ‘She could be ours’ he thought.

With his hands and not his wand, Severus opened the earth to receive the baby. The sleeping infant's image stayed until he placed the last of the fertile earth over her. Three broad wand strokes planted an ever-blooming strawberry plant — her mother’s favorite — atop the grave with a spell to ensure ever-lasting spring over the plant. A final wand wave created a head stone carved with a simple epitaph: Hypolita Granger-Snape, Beloved Infant Daughter.

“She deserved to be remembered…” was all he managed.

Severus enveloped her in his arms when Hermione came to him, mourning the daughter she never got to meet except in his memory.