Come Back To Me

A Time to Grieve.

I stood on mountaintops that overlooked the world
I can't find anything except a void inside
I went to places where I could forget your name
I can't find anything except a void inside

I don't have anything because I don't have you
I don't have anything

What can I buy to make the sky turn blue again?
Where can I go to feel like I'm alive again?
Show me the places where I can forget your name
I can't find anything except a void inside

I don't have anything because I don't have you
I don't have anything.

I've been stripped of everything except some flesh that bleeds
And I've been robbed of everything except a soul, except a soul
that needs...you, sweet you

I don't have anything because I don't have you
I don't have anything
(I Don’t Have Anything – VAST)

Lucius waltzed into Severus’ room with a mass of paperwork on one arm and a wide grin on his face.

“Good morning, Severus.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Severus snarled. He sat up and glared at Lucius' back as the older man poured two mugs of coffee.

“Has someone got out the wrong side of bed this morning?”

“No, Malfoy, someone has yet to get out of bed whether it is the right or wrong side. Someone is however, waiting for his early morning dose of caffeine before the return of that dunderhead from St. Mungo’s.”

“Funny you should mention St Mungo’s. I have a meeting with Lewins this morning, and Cissa is expecting Andromeda in an hour, so you’d best stay in here until after lunch,” Lucius replied as he passed Severus his mug.

“Oh, excellent. Another day surrounded by the same four walls: I can’t wait,” Severus muttered.

“No need to be so petulant, Severus. If you would only try to use the stick Trewella left for you, you would be able to join Cissa and me for breakfast in the conservatory. Merlin knows you could do with a change of scenery.”

“That dunderhead knows as much about Magiotherapy as my left foot does, Lucius,” Severus spat. “Given the time, should you not be making plans to depart for your meeting?”

“Ahhh, I see the coffee is working.” Severus glared at the older man. “Waldo will be in with your brunch shortly.”

“Good riddance, Lucius. Go, bother Lewins, though I have no idea what the man has done to be blighted by your presence.”

Placing his mug back on the tray, Lucius turned and left Severus alone. He was glad that Severus was making progress, yet he was still concerned for his friend. Severus was still prone to murmuring Miss Granger’s name during his sleep but he still failed to divulge the true extent of their friendship. Narcissa was adamant that Severus and Miss Granger must have formed a very close attachment. He would find out exactly what had happened between his friend and Miss Granger but first he had plans with respect to Severus employment once he had recovered.

****

Hermione took Padraig’s proffered hand. She felt a small tingle of magic thrum through her.

“You... You’re a wizard,” she said, smiling at the older man.

“I am, and you are a witch,” he replied. “Shall we go find somewhere to sit?”

Hermione followed the man, Padraig walked a little faster than she did, but she soon matched her own pace to his.

The pub’s outer walls were rendered and painted sunshine yellow. As far as Hermione could tell, each window was adorned with a terracotta window box packed tightly with a multitude of flowers and ferns. Hanging baskets hung on both sides of the main entrance to the pub. Hermione was amused when she realised that the basket held tumbling cherry tomatoes as well as gold and orange nasturtiums.


The aroma of stale tobacco, beer and home-cooked food assaulted Hermione as they entered the pub. To her relief, the interior was just as traditional as the exterior.

To their right, Hermione could see two old men nursing pints whilst playing a game of dominoes, and there was also a Pool table and a dartboard hanging on the far wall. Hermione smiled remembering the time that she, Harry and Ron had pinned a picture of Umbridge to a dartboard during their fifth year.

An ornate Victorian fireplace dominated the left side of the pub and arranged around it were numerous wooden tables and chairs. In the far corner was a secluded snug area, perfect for a courting couple or for people who did not wish to be disturbed.

"Shall we sit in the snug?" Padraig asked.

"That would be agreeable. Shall we get drinks first?"

"Anything in particular?" Padraig asked.

"When in Rome." Hermione's eyes lit up. "I guess it would be rude not to at least try some of the local stuff."

"Half of Guinness it is, then. I'll get these, whilst you grab a seat."


Hermione settled into the snug and perused the menu. Padraig was right: the menu consisted mainly of traditional home-cooked fare. Her mouth watered as she looked down the list, which could quite easily have been a list of her Mum’s comfort food. So many things on the list were tempting.

“Penny for those thoughts again,” Padraig teased.

“Sorry, this menu looks so like the food Mum used to make me when I needed some comfort.”

“I told you it was traditional stuff,” Padraig replied as he took the menu from Hermione’s hands. “You have the advantage at the moment: You know my name is Padraig, so what is your name?”

“My name?” she mumbled. “My name is Hermione... Hermione Granger,” she whispered.

“Well, Hermione Granger, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Padraig’s face lit up with a warm, genuine smile as he shook Hermione’s hand.

Hermione blushed, waiting for Padraig to bombard her with questions.

“So, Hermione. What brings you to this part of Ireland?”

Hermione was both staggered and bemused that he hadn’t asked about the war. “I was brought here by my mentor. I have just completed my NEWT’s, and Minerva, Professor McGonagall, brought me here.”

“I know Professor McGonagall: I studied at Hogwarts. In fact, I was her Transfiguration Apprentice nineteen years ago.” Padraig’ eyes twinkled. “So, were you involved in the war?”

“I was. I suppose you could say I was the brains behind the brawn...” she said as she forced a smile.

“You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t want to. Are you ready to order?”

Hermione took a sip from her drink. “Yes, I’ll have the beef and Guinness hotpot.”

“Righto, Hermione Granger! A traditional hotpot it is!”

Hermione released a breath she didn’t realise that she had been holding. Absent-mindedly, she sipped her drink as she waited for Padraig to return.

****

Severus sat in the chair that Lucius had asked Waldo to bring in from the library. The only sound was the gentle patter of rain against the large bay windows and the occasional screech from the Malfoy’s white peacocks. Lying in his lap was a copy of Advanced Potions by Professor Severus Snape. Slowly, his eyes passed over the dedication that Hermione had penned:

All my love to my friends for your unwavering friendship, encouragement and love. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville, thank you.


Thanks to Harry, Ron and Ginny also for making my life brighter after such sorrow gripped our world.


I extend my deepest thanks to Professor Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You have been a source of encouragement and support over the years.


I would also like to extend my regards to my editors, Athena Broody and Augusta Tramp, without whom I would not have been able to see this project to completion.


Finally, a thank you to the one professor who made a true difference, both in the fight against Voldemort and, as you will see from this text, to the world of Potion making. Severus Snape was the bravest man I have ever had the opportunity to meet: He laboured to save my friends and me during our years at Hogwarts.


I dedicate this book to the memory of one of the greatest professors and Potions Masters to have ever lived: Severus Tobias Snape. The bravest man I ever knew.

Narcissa had entered the room without Severus realising. She placed her hand on Severus’ shoulder disturbing him from his thoughts.


“You know, you could always let her know that you survived. Lucius has yet to be informed that she wishes to take ownership of Spinner’s End. She is not lost to you yet,” she said.

“I have no idea what you are blathering on about, woman. Kindly leave me alone. Lucius said that you were expecting company: shouldn’t you be waiting to receive your sister?”

“Severus, think about it, please. You can start again with Hermione, if that is what you want.”

“Leave me alone, Narcissa. I am too old, too broken and far too dark for the likes of Miss Granger. She is destined for far greater heights than she would ever achieve with me.”

Narcissa turned to face the door, shaking her head. As she went to exit the room she turned once more to face Severus.

“You do yourself, and Miss Granger a disservice, Severus,” she replied, “It is clear to me from that dedication that you meant a great deal to her. Open your eyes, Severus, and wake up to the possibility that love may be waiting for you.”

“You’re just as pathetic as Albus. Look at me, Narcissa. Who would want to have me escorting them about the wizarding world? I am a wreck.”

“I’m sure Miss Granger would welcome you, Severus.”

“Leave me alone, Narcissa. Go, wait for your sister.”

Narcissa sighed as she left the room; she only hoped that Lucius’ plan would work.

Severus huffed as Narcissa left the room. “Why must my life be blighted by insufferable people who believe they know what is best for me?” he growled as he looked at the dedication again. Maybe Narcissa had a point, maybe Hermione did still love him, but would she feel the same if she were to see him as he was now.

****

“Hermione.” Padraig gently tapped Hermione’s elbow. “Surely I’m not boring you already?”

“Sorry... I have a great deal to contemplate about my future, Padraig. My mind wandered whilst you were ordering the food. Will it be long?”

“Should be with us shortly. So, tell me about yourself: Who is Hermione Granger?”

“That’s just it: I don’t know.” Hermione sighed.

“Well, what were you just thinking about?”

“It’s complicated. My whole life is one great complicated mess.”

“What about if I were to tell you a little about myself first? Then you can talk when you are ready.”

“Okay,” Hermione murmured.

“Right,” Padraig began, “well my family name is Fitzpatrick. I studied at Hogwarts during the late seventies and early eighties I was a couple of years behind James Potter and Lily Evans. After I completed my NEWT’s, I decided to apply for Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration Apprenticeship and spent the next three years studying and perfecting my skills.”

“A year after completing my apprenticeship with Professor Mcgonagall I became the Transfiguration Professor at the Salem Institute for Witches and Wizards in the States. I returned to Ireland recently, after receiving a letter about my mother’s failing health. She pleaded with me to stay at Salem while the second war raged. I would willingly have come home and joined the fight, but mother was frightened I would not survive.”

Padraig took a sip of his drink, watching Hermione over the rim of his glass. “I lost friends during the first war – one very special friend,” he continued “and my mother was worried I would become reckless if I came face to face with the person responsible for my girlfriend’s demise. The witch responsible for Ophelia’s death was Bellatrix Black. No doubt she married one of his henchmen: I don’t know, and I don’t particularly care enough to find out...”

“Bellatrix is dead,” Hermione whispered. “Molly Weasley killed her during the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” Padraig reached across the table to take Hermione’s hand in his. “Ophelia was the love of my life, a bright, loving witch. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t miss her. Of course it’s got better with time... I wish I had come back to fight,” Padraig sighed wistfully.

Their conversation was stalled when a young waitress approached them. “Who ordered the hotpot?”

“The hotpot is for the lady, and I ordered the steak,” Padraig replied.

Hermione smiled at Padraig as she began to eat the food in front of her. “Mmm, you were right, this is lovely.”

“I told you so. I’m sure Minerva has not let you rest since you’ve been here, so where has she taken you apart of course from coming here?”

“Well, Minerva brought me here first. She told me that this is where the Muggle poet, Thomas Moore wrote Meeting of the Waters, we’ve also spent a couple of days on the coast...”

“Oh, I bet that was funny. I can’t imagine what Minerva looked like at the beach.”

“We also visited Russborough House; it’s such a lovely place.”

Hermione and Padraig continued to exchange small talk as they ate the rest of their meal.

****

Minerva hummed to herself as she tidied her bedroom, making a start on packing her oak trunk.

“Minnie, what has made you this cheerful? What have you done?”

“Albus... I... Oh, Albus, I had the most perfect idea. As we speak, Padraig and Hermione should be sitting enjoying each others company.”

“How many times did you berate me for being a meddlesome old fool?”

“Albus, I have Hermione’s best interest at heart.”

“You could be playing a very dangerous game, Minnie.”

“I learned from a master, Albus.”

****

Hermione gave a satisfied sigh as she pushed her empty plate away.

“So,” Padraig smiled. “Are you ready to tell me a bit about yourself now, Hermione Granger?”

“I’m sure you’ve read some of the post war commentaries. I am a Muggle-born witch, who made friends with the Boy-Who-Lived and his side-kick, Ronald Weasley. I was the one who solved all the problems; I am the Know-It-All... I am a fraud...”

Hermione slumped forward, resting her head on her folded arms, and her body shook from the ferocity of her tears. “I had help... help from a most unexpected source. A person very few people can say they were close to, a person few have ever got close enough to know; a person who did not survive the war; a person I miss terribly. I miss him so much, and I have no right to feel this way. Why won’t it all just go away? Why can’t I have those moments back? I can’t stop thinking about all the things I should have said, but I never did. All the things I should have given...”

Padraig rose from his side of the table and sat down next to Hermione, wrapping her in his arms. “Who was this person, Hermione? Who helped you?”

“Professor Snape... Severus, it was Severus who helped us defeat Riddle.” Another sob erupted from her still shaking body.

Padraig pulled Hermione closer sighing as the young witch fell to pieces in his arms. Murmuring words of sympathy, Padraig waited for Hermione to stop crying.

Hermione hiccupped as the tears slowed, “Not many people know that he helped us... The Minister of Magic knows; he’s seen my memories as well as those that Severus shared with Harry and has spoken with Albus’ portrait, but the Minister has decided to keep quiet about just how much help Severus was.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Hermione.”

“We... Harry, Ronald and I, spent what should have been our seventh year trailing around the countryside hiding from Death Eaters whilst we searched for Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Severus would come to hand me information whilst the boys were out either scavenging for food or looking for the Horcruxes. We... Severus and I, we became friends which slowly...” Hermione paused and sipped her drink. “Severus and I became close; he was a completely different person once I was no longer a student. It was like we became equals, joining forces to defeat Riddle, sharing information and ideas. He let me know what was happening at Hogwarts, Riddle had installed him as Headmaster, which worked well for both the Order and Riddle himself. Riddle had a trusted solider in charge of the school and the Order had someone who could attempt to lessen the impact of the Carrows.”

“Hermione, are you implying that you and Severus became lovers?”

“Not as such, we did mean a great deal to one another.” Hermione reached for the silver serpent necklace, “he gave me this as a talisman of sorts... we never... there was never the opportunity to... I miss him so much, but I don’t think he was ever really mine.”

“Hermione, he must have thought a great deal about you to give you that necklace.”

“That’s not all that he gave me...” Hermione stilled for a moment. “Padraig, he left me everything... his home, his research. I’ve not been able to visit Spinner’s End. I’m too scared of what I may find there.”

****

Gently, Padraig lifted Hermione’s chin so that he could look directly into the younger witch’s eyes. “Hermione, it seems obvious to me that you meant a great deal to Snape. For him to have left you everything...”

“But, I’d rather have him here with me, than be surrounded by memories of what I can’t have.” Silent tears began to fall down her cheeks once more. “Don’t you ever wish that Ophelia had survived?”

“I do, every year, on her birthday, I raise a glass to her wherever she may be,” Padraig replied. “It does get easier, Hermione. You say he left you his home, have you been to see it?”

“I can’t!” Hermione frantically shook her head. “I can’t go there, Padraig, I’m too scared of what I may find there, what if... what if it looks like he’s just popped out...” Hermione’s body shook again as she sobbed.

“Hermione, look,” Padraig implored. “You need to face whatever secrets that place holds. You have to start to move forward. You can’t keep hiding from what has happened. I’m sure Snape wouldn’t want you to live a half-life. By leaving you everything, he has set you up in many ways to pursue your hearts desire. What is it that Hermione Granger wishes to do with her life, now that Riddle has finally been defeated?”

Hermione’s breath caught as she hiccupped, “Minerva has offered me a position at Hogwarts, helping Irma in the library, and Filius has said he’d gladly take me on as an Apprentice. Severus and I had talked about me becoming a Potions Apprentice somewhere in Europe, he said there was a possibility that I could study with the same Master he had studied with.” She took a final sip from her glass, “I have to admit, the possibility of working in the library at Hogwarts is very tempting, there are scores of books I never got a chance to look at whilst I was a student. It’s a tempting offer since I am such a bibliophile.”

“What about Snape’s home?”

“Ginny... Ginny Weasley has offered to go with me. She offered to go in first to see what was there. I suppose I really should get in touch with Elgin Blott to discuss the finer points of Severus’ will.”

“That would be a start: Do you know who the executor of the will is?”

“I don’t Mr Blott came to Grimmauld Place to read the will shortly after the end of the war, I don’t remember any mention of who was executor. Mind you, I don’t remember much about the reading of the will, I remember hearing that Severus had left everything to me, and then I believe I fainted. I was so surprised that he had done such a thing.”

Hermione paused to look at her watch. “Oh my, look at the time! Minerva will wonder where in the name of Merlin I am. I’m sorry Padraig, I have to go.”

“Hermione, its only 1:30 pm, I’m sure Minerva isn’t worried about you yet.”

“I told her I was only going to be a couple of hours, she will wonder what has happened to me.”

“Hermione, I’m sure Minerva will not mind you being a little late back to the cottage.”

“No, but I said I would be back early afternoon...”

“How about I escort you back to Avoca?”

“That’s very kind of you, but...”

“It’s not a imposition, I assure you Hermione.”

“Well, in that case, thank you Padraig.”