A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
86
Views:
47,291
Reviews:
260
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
86
Views:
47,291
Reviews:
260
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Final Arrangements
Chapter 47 ~ Final Arrangements
Albus Dumbledore straightened his black robes and combed through his beard with his fingers. His hair was neatly combed and he wore a black pointed hat. His blue eyes were somber and without twinkle as he knocked on the heavy wooden door emblazed with a serpent. After several moments a house elf opened the door and looked up at him. Relief flooded the creature’s face.
“Comes in, sir,” the elf said, opening the door, “Is very glad to see you sir. You is needed.”
Albus nodded to the elf and strode inside the Manor, then waited for the creature to close the door and lead him to Draco’s study. He could hear the portraits whispering as he passed, and not all they said were good. Albus did not adhere to the pureblood superiority line and most of the portraits felt him a traitor. However he ignored the hisses and continued on.
When Malina visited, Draco put a silencing spell on his forebears so she wouldn’t hear their insults. He wouldn’t have to do that any longer. No doubt they were delighted by her death…but not one would openly gloat. In Draco’s current condition he might tear them from the wall and destroy them.
The house elf pushed open the study door.
“Master, the great Albus Dumbledore has arrives for you,” the elf announced to an armchair facing the fire.
“Come in, Headmaster and sit down,” Draco said in a tired, thick voice. He had been up most of the night, finding comfort in firewhiskey. The elves managed to get him to eat something. Albus walked over to the armchairs and saw they had been pulled back and a long table draped in green and silver rested before the fireplace. Draco stared at it.
“That is where Malina will be laid out,” Draco said, his bloodshot eyes turning toward the Headmaster as he sat down, “Then I will bury her in the rose garden.”
Albus looked at Draco for a long moment.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Draco. Malina Pascal was a special witch. She came to me when she ran away from home. She was quite resourceful to find us without help or a wand. However, her parents had poisoned her mind so much against Hogwarts it was apparent she would be unable to attend school here, and I took her instead to a school of the Arts from which she graduated. She was a marvelous talent. I mourn her loss,” the Headmaster said gently.
Draco didn’t even wonder how Albus knew about him and Malina. He just knew the Headmaster knew like he knew most things.
“Draco, I know how you felt about Malina. You loved her…however…” the Headmaster said, hesitating for a moment so Draco looked at him.
“…you cannot hold her funeral in your Manor. It would compromise you. Remember, you are a Death Eater. You cannot openly mourn a muggle-born. It will bring up all types of questions and at this point, when we are so close to ending their madness…we can’t afford that,” the wizard said gently.
Draco’s eyes shifted back to the draped table.
“But I want her here,” he said brokenly, “Just for a bit longer.”
Albus shook his head.
“You can secretly inter her on the Manor grounds Draco and have a public memorial service at the funeral parlor. There are many people she worked with in the music industry who would like to say their goodbyes. It can be said her body was cremated and her ashes scattered. That will be accepted. But you cannot be a visible part of it. If you like, I will handle everything for you. I believe that will be best,” Albus said.
Draco frowned at him.
“I have to abandon her too, then. Like her family did,” he said bitterly, “I have to pretend I didn’t know her, didn’t love her, didn’t…didn’t…want her forever…”
Albus’ eyes glistened at the pain in Draco’s voice.
“Yes, Draco…because there are the living to think of,” he said softly.
“Fuck the living!” Draco shouted, leaping up, “The hell with everyone! Everyone!”
He stormed over to the liquor cabinet to fix himself yet another firewhiskey, and scowled when he found the bottle empty.
“More firewhiskey!” Draco bellowed.
Almost immediately, a house elf with flattened ears winked in with a fresh bottle. Draco snatched it and wrested it open, sloppily filling his glass as the elf looked at Albus sadly and winked out.
“You don’t mean that my boy,” Albus said as Draco tossed down his drink, “That is grief speaking. Rage and anger at the senseless loss of the woman you love, Draco. It’s understandable. But, you hold a very important position, one you’ve worked hard to maintain and all your hard work is about to come to fruition.”
Draco looked at him.
“It wasn’t senseless, Headmaster. It was murder. That bastard Felix used a carpet that was shoddily put together for that photo shoot. He’s going to pay for that,” Draco said with murder in his eyes. “Galleons were more important to him than Dirty Magic’s lives. Than Malina’s life.”
Albus looked at Draco worriedly. Felix had spent millions of galleons to get the Ministry to ease up on the restrictions on Magic Carpets. Finally, they did so, people required to apply for a special luxury license to own one, and the carpets were highly taxed. In order to fly, one had to register the date, time, length of travel, place of departure and destination two weeks in advance, and it had to be on the weekend. With such restrictions, the Ministry believed they could monitor the carpets within reason and that the public wouldn’t want to go through all the paperwork and processes. But they were wrong. Carpets were popular despite the costs and procedures.
But the main problem was, Felix himself hadn’t bothered to register the photo shoot, in his never-ending attempt to save money. It was to be held over his own property and last only ten minutes at the most. He couldn’t see spending thousands of galleons for that. The cost would be increased because of the size of the carpet. Also, since it was custom-made, it would have to have been inspected and that would have taken more money and time. Now with his business closed and being up on numerous charges, Felix most likely wished he had been more legitimate. Most likely he would end up in Azkaban, if Draco didn’t get to him first.
“Draco, you aren’t thinking properly. Let the Ministry handle it. Felix will have to pay reparation for the damage he’s caused, and most likely faces a long prison term,” Albus said, trying to defuse the angry wizard.
Draco snarled at Albus.
“Reparations? You mean Malina’s parents will receive monetary recompense for the death of a daughter they disowned? That’s sick, Headmaster…sick and wrong,” he spat.
Draco could see William Pascal accepting money for Malina’s death, despite mistreating her and forcing her to flee her home and her world. The blonde wizard shook with rage.
”It’s all so twisted, so wrong, so unfair,” he said, his voice quavering as he returned to his armchair. The firewhiskey had ceased to affect him and misery was the only emotion he felt now. Of course the Headmaster was right. He couldn’t have Malina’s funeral at the Manor. He would have to glamour himself at the memorial service as well.
Albus reached into his robes and produced a parchment for Draco to sign. It would give him the right to make Malina’s final arrangements.
“Sign this, Draco. It will remove you from suspicion. I will arrange everything, down to the private burial on these grounds,” he said gently.
Draco took the parchment from him and walked over to his desk. There were quills but he had muggle pens in the top drawer as well. He sat down and opened the drawer. There was a piece of parchment covering the pens. He took it out, put it on top of his desk then took out a pen and signed the form, giving Albus full responsibility over Malina’s remains. He put the pen back in the drawer, rose and walked over to Albus, handing him the parchment.
Albus read it over, then folded it and placed it in his robes pocket. He rose and looked at Draco.
“Thank you, Draco,” he said, gazing at him with affection, “I know you are a full grown wizard my boy, but at times like this…”
Albus opened his arms. Draco stared at him, his face contorting with mixed emotions as he looked at the wizard’s open arms and felt his offer for comfort. The last embrace he had was from Malina. Dear, sweet, dead Malina. He needed human contact…someone to make him feel he wasn’t completely alone in the world, someone who understood how much pain he was in.
Suddenly Draco flung himself into the old wizard’s embrace, clutching at him. Albus patted Draco’s back as the wizard’s hands pulled and twisted the fabric of his robes, the wizard groaning, then choking on his own sobs. After about five minutes, Draco pulled away from Albus, wiping his eyes and not looking at the wizard.
Albus looked on Draco with kind eyes.
“This may not seem true now, Draco…but it will get easier…and better. The good memories will rise to the fore and Malina’s love will be a balm to you all your life. People pass on, Draco…but true love…true love never dies,” the Headmaster said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly, “She will always be with you.”
Draco blinked at him.
“Thank you, Headmaster,” he rasped as Albus released him and turned toward the study door. Draco walked forward to escort him out.
Albus turned and gave him a small smile.
“No, Draco. I can find my own way out. I believe there is something on your desk you need to see,” the wizard said. He gave Draco a small wave and exited the room.
Draco turned and looked at his desk. The piece of parchment he’d taken out was lying there. Slowly he walked over to the desk, sat down and drew the paper toward him. He drank in the familiar handwriting.
It was a song. A song by Malina. She had left the unfinished lyrics in his desk, probably trying to hide it to keep him from seeing it before it was completed. Malina was always so protective of her work. Draco read the parchment slowly, savoring each written word, picturing Malina writing as he did so.
A world so dark, the sun extinguished
Lost, I had no place to go
A tomb of silence screaming strongly
pouring night into my soul
and then the strangest thing occurred
suddenly my song was heard
through the gray a hope was raised
drawing me into the day
and it’s said that every breath
draws us closer to our death
and so I breathe my love at you
you are the only thing that’s true
in my life
in my life
in my life
A world so bright, I do not languish
Found, I’ve finally come home
your scorching touch a resurrection
pouring light into the tomb
And now the strangest thing occurs
my life is tangled with your words
and through the gray your hope was raised
love the burn that fires the day
although it’s said that every breath
draws us closer to our death
the final breath I ever take
will never shatter never break
my love for you
for you
for you
Draco read the words over and over, his heart swelling as he wiped his eyes. These were Malina’s final words, and they were about finding hope, happiness and a love that would never die, one that would survive even death. It was comforting and he felt the tightness around his heart loosen just a bit.
The wizard drew in a shuddering breath and pressed the parchment against his lips, his eyes glistening. He stared down at the words.
“Thank you, Malina,” Draco whispered softly, “Thank you for loving me.”
*******************************************
Albus quickly arranged a memorial service for Malina which was attended by those she worked with in the studio, a few former classmates and fans of Dirty Magic who found out she often sang with them. It was a beautiful send off, a large picture of Malina scowling slightly on display, surrounded by roses as people walked by paying their respects. She hated taking pictures.
There was no eulogy. Instead a few of her favorite songs were played, and one of her own…the song Hermione heard Valentine’s night. When the song faded on its final haunting note, there wasn’t a dry eye to be found. Everyone left, saying it had been a lovely memorial and Malina would be missed.
At the Manor, Draco watched as the house elves gently lowered Malina’s casket into the earth magically. The wizard stood there somberly, her ring and necklace draped around his neck, a single rose clutched in his fist. He then looked at her headstone, and the image of the rose embraced by a serpent carved in the marble. The epitaph simply read: Malina Pascal, the Love of My Life.
Draco looked back at the grave and the white coffin resting within. He tossed in the rose and nodded to the elves, who filled it in with magic forming a smooth mound of earth above.
“You’re home, Malina,” Draco said, “Home forever.”
The wizard swallowed, then sat down on a white bench near the grave, waving the house elves away. He sat there a long time…a very long time before returning to the Manor and his empty bed.
************************************************
A/N: Thanks for reading
Albus Dumbledore straightened his black robes and combed through his beard with his fingers. His hair was neatly combed and he wore a black pointed hat. His blue eyes were somber and without twinkle as he knocked on the heavy wooden door emblazed with a serpent. After several moments a house elf opened the door and looked up at him. Relief flooded the creature’s face.
“Comes in, sir,” the elf said, opening the door, “Is very glad to see you sir. You is needed.”
Albus nodded to the elf and strode inside the Manor, then waited for the creature to close the door and lead him to Draco’s study. He could hear the portraits whispering as he passed, and not all they said were good. Albus did not adhere to the pureblood superiority line and most of the portraits felt him a traitor. However he ignored the hisses and continued on.
When Malina visited, Draco put a silencing spell on his forebears so she wouldn’t hear their insults. He wouldn’t have to do that any longer. No doubt they were delighted by her death…but not one would openly gloat. In Draco’s current condition he might tear them from the wall and destroy them.
The house elf pushed open the study door.
“Master, the great Albus Dumbledore has arrives for you,” the elf announced to an armchair facing the fire.
“Come in, Headmaster and sit down,” Draco said in a tired, thick voice. He had been up most of the night, finding comfort in firewhiskey. The elves managed to get him to eat something. Albus walked over to the armchairs and saw they had been pulled back and a long table draped in green and silver rested before the fireplace. Draco stared at it.
“That is where Malina will be laid out,” Draco said, his bloodshot eyes turning toward the Headmaster as he sat down, “Then I will bury her in the rose garden.”
Albus looked at Draco for a long moment.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Draco. Malina Pascal was a special witch. She came to me when she ran away from home. She was quite resourceful to find us without help or a wand. However, her parents had poisoned her mind so much against Hogwarts it was apparent she would be unable to attend school here, and I took her instead to a school of the Arts from which she graduated. She was a marvelous talent. I mourn her loss,” the Headmaster said gently.
Draco didn’t even wonder how Albus knew about him and Malina. He just knew the Headmaster knew like he knew most things.
“Draco, I know how you felt about Malina. You loved her…however…” the Headmaster said, hesitating for a moment so Draco looked at him.
“…you cannot hold her funeral in your Manor. It would compromise you. Remember, you are a Death Eater. You cannot openly mourn a muggle-born. It will bring up all types of questions and at this point, when we are so close to ending their madness…we can’t afford that,” the wizard said gently.
Draco’s eyes shifted back to the draped table.
“But I want her here,” he said brokenly, “Just for a bit longer.”
Albus shook his head.
“You can secretly inter her on the Manor grounds Draco and have a public memorial service at the funeral parlor. There are many people she worked with in the music industry who would like to say their goodbyes. It can be said her body was cremated and her ashes scattered. That will be accepted. But you cannot be a visible part of it. If you like, I will handle everything for you. I believe that will be best,” Albus said.
Draco frowned at him.
“I have to abandon her too, then. Like her family did,” he said bitterly, “I have to pretend I didn’t know her, didn’t love her, didn’t…didn’t…want her forever…”
Albus’ eyes glistened at the pain in Draco’s voice.
“Yes, Draco…because there are the living to think of,” he said softly.
“Fuck the living!” Draco shouted, leaping up, “The hell with everyone! Everyone!”
He stormed over to the liquor cabinet to fix himself yet another firewhiskey, and scowled when he found the bottle empty.
“More firewhiskey!” Draco bellowed.
Almost immediately, a house elf with flattened ears winked in with a fresh bottle. Draco snatched it and wrested it open, sloppily filling his glass as the elf looked at Albus sadly and winked out.
“You don’t mean that my boy,” Albus said as Draco tossed down his drink, “That is grief speaking. Rage and anger at the senseless loss of the woman you love, Draco. It’s understandable. But, you hold a very important position, one you’ve worked hard to maintain and all your hard work is about to come to fruition.”
Draco looked at him.
“It wasn’t senseless, Headmaster. It was murder. That bastard Felix used a carpet that was shoddily put together for that photo shoot. He’s going to pay for that,” Draco said with murder in his eyes. “Galleons were more important to him than Dirty Magic’s lives. Than Malina’s life.”
Albus looked at Draco worriedly. Felix had spent millions of galleons to get the Ministry to ease up on the restrictions on Magic Carpets. Finally, they did so, people required to apply for a special luxury license to own one, and the carpets were highly taxed. In order to fly, one had to register the date, time, length of travel, place of departure and destination two weeks in advance, and it had to be on the weekend. With such restrictions, the Ministry believed they could monitor the carpets within reason and that the public wouldn’t want to go through all the paperwork and processes. But they were wrong. Carpets were popular despite the costs and procedures.
But the main problem was, Felix himself hadn’t bothered to register the photo shoot, in his never-ending attempt to save money. It was to be held over his own property and last only ten minutes at the most. He couldn’t see spending thousands of galleons for that. The cost would be increased because of the size of the carpet. Also, since it was custom-made, it would have to have been inspected and that would have taken more money and time. Now with his business closed and being up on numerous charges, Felix most likely wished he had been more legitimate. Most likely he would end up in Azkaban, if Draco didn’t get to him first.
“Draco, you aren’t thinking properly. Let the Ministry handle it. Felix will have to pay reparation for the damage he’s caused, and most likely faces a long prison term,” Albus said, trying to defuse the angry wizard.
Draco snarled at Albus.
“Reparations? You mean Malina’s parents will receive monetary recompense for the death of a daughter they disowned? That’s sick, Headmaster…sick and wrong,” he spat.
Draco could see William Pascal accepting money for Malina’s death, despite mistreating her and forcing her to flee her home and her world. The blonde wizard shook with rage.
”It’s all so twisted, so wrong, so unfair,” he said, his voice quavering as he returned to his armchair. The firewhiskey had ceased to affect him and misery was the only emotion he felt now. Of course the Headmaster was right. He couldn’t have Malina’s funeral at the Manor. He would have to glamour himself at the memorial service as well.
Albus reached into his robes and produced a parchment for Draco to sign. It would give him the right to make Malina’s final arrangements.
“Sign this, Draco. It will remove you from suspicion. I will arrange everything, down to the private burial on these grounds,” he said gently.
Draco took the parchment from him and walked over to his desk. There were quills but he had muggle pens in the top drawer as well. He sat down and opened the drawer. There was a piece of parchment covering the pens. He took it out, put it on top of his desk then took out a pen and signed the form, giving Albus full responsibility over Malina’s remains. He put the pen back in the drawer, rose and walked over to Albus, handing him the parchment.
Albus read it over, then folded it and placed it in his robes pocket. He rose and looked at Draco.
“Thank you, Draco,” he said, gazing at him with affection, “I know you are a full grown wizard my boy, but at times like this…”
Albus opened his arms. Draco stared at him, his face contorting with mixed emotions as he looked at the wizard’s open arms and felt his offer for comfort. The last embrace he had was from Malina. Dear, sweet, dead Malina. He needed human contact…someone to make him feel he wasn’t completely alone in the world, someone who understood how much pain he was in.
Suddenly Draco flung himself into the old wizard’s embrace, clutching at him. Albus patted Draco’s back as the wizard’s hands pulled and twisted the fabric of his robes, the wizard groaning, then choking on his own sobs. After about five minutes, Draco pulled away from Albus, wiping his eyes and not looking at the wizard.
Albus looked on Draco with kind eyes.
“This may not seem true now, Draco…but it will get easier…and better. The good memories will rise to the fore and Malina’s love will be a balm to you all your life. People pass on, Draco…but true love…true love never dies,” the Headmaster said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly, “She will always be with you.”
Draco blinked at him.
“Thank you, Headmaster,” he rasped as Albus released him and turned toward the study door. Draco walked forward to escort him out.
Albus turned and gave him a small smile.
“No, Draco. I can find my own way out. I believe there is something on your desk you need to see,” the wizard said. He gave Draco a small wave and exited the room.
Draco turned and looked at his desk. The piece of parchment he’d taken out was lying there. Slowly he walked over to the desk, sat down and drew the paper toward him. He drank in the familiar handwriting.
It was a song. A song by Malina. She had left the unfinished lyrics in his desk, probably trying to hide it to keep him from seeing it before it was completed. Malina was always so protective of her work. Draco read the parchment slowly, savoring each written word, picturing Malina writing as he did so.
A world so dark, the sun extinguished
Lost, I had no place to go
A tomb of silence screaming strongly
pouring night into my soul
and then the strangest thing occurred
suddenly my song was heard
through the gray a hope was raised
drawing me into the day
and it’s said that every breath
draws us closer to our death
and so I breathe my love at you
you are the only thing that’s true
in my life
in my life
in my life
A world so bright, I do not languish
Found, I’ve finally come home
your scorching touch a resurrection
pouring light into the tomb
And now the strangest thing occurs
my life is tangled with your words
and through the gray your hope was raised
love the burn that fires the day
although it’s said that every breath
draws us closer to our death
the final breath I ever take
will never shatter never break
my love for you
for you
for you
Draco read the words over and over, his heart swelling as he wiped his eyes. These were Malina’s final words, and they were about finding hope, happiness and a love that would never die, one that would survive even death. It was comforting and he felt the tightness around his heart loosen just a bit.
The wizard drew in a shuddering breath and pressed the parchment against his lips, his eyes glistening. He stared down at the words.
“Thank you, Malina,” Draco whispered softly, “Thank you for loving me.”
*******************************************
Albus quickly arranged a memorial service for Malina which was attended by those she worked with in the studio, a few former classmates and fans of Dirty Magic who found out she often sang with them. It was a beautiful send off, a large picture of Malina scowling slightly on display, surrounded by roses as people walked by paying their respects. She hated taking pictures.
There was no eulogy. Instead a few of her favorite songs were played, and one of her own…the song Hermione heard Valentine’s night. When the song faded on its final haunting note, there wasn’t a dry eye to be found. Everyone left, saying it had been a lovely memorial and Malina would be missed.
At the Manor, Draco watched as the house elves gently lowered Malina’s casket into the earth magically. The wizard stood there somberly, her ring and necklace draped around his neck, a single rose clutched in his fist. He then looked at her headstone, and the image of the rose embraced by a serpent carved in the marble. The epitaph simply read: Malina Pascal, the Love of My Life.
Draco looked back at the grave and the white coffin resting within. He tossed in the rose and nodded to the elves, who filled it in with magic forming a smooth mound of earth above.
“You’re home, Malina,” Draco said, “Home forever.”
The wizard swallowed, then sat down on a white bench near the grave, waving the house elves away. He sat there a long time…a very long time before returning to the Manor and his empty bed.
************************************************
A/N: Thanks for reading