Haunted Memories

Response to “The Letter” challenged posted by Dryad on WIKTT.

Disclaimer: Everything contained herein belongs to JK Rowling, except my plot that I have created from my own brain. All likenesses to anything happening in any of the books is pure coincidental. All grammatical mistakes and errors are my own. I am not making any money off of this whatsoever.

Severus Snape swirled the whiskey around in his glass before tipping it to his mouth. He felt it burn a path down his throat, just as the six shots before had done. He groaned and rested his head on his forearm as he sat at his desk. He brought his head back up after a few contemplative moments and reached for the Ogden’s bottle again to refill his tumbler.

He felt his hand shaking as he poured and knew that shortly the darkness would envelope him, letting him finally escape from this day of hell. As he reached for his now full tumbler of whiskey, his eyes caught sight of the paper that was causing him this turmoil.

He could still faintly smell the cherry vanilla scent drifting from the parchment. As if against his own will, his hand reached for the parchment. The parchment looked as if it was fifty years old. In actuality it was only a year and a half old. The creases down the center of the parchment from where it had been folded and unfolded so many times gave it the appearance of being aged.

For what seemed liked the hundredth time today, Severus unfolded the letter to read the words that had been the cause of the pain he was feeling.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Dear Professor,

By the time you receive this, I will be gone.

I am not writing this letter as a final parting shot, but it might have been easier if that had been the case. I would prefer to remain silent, but my Gryffindor courage (or stupidity as you see fit) won’t allow me to keep my council.

Don’t worry, Sir. I can hear your blatant drawl, ‘Get on with it already!’ from here.

I like you.

I am not so foolish as to say love, because while I know a great deal more about you than the average student, I know better that to assume I know enough to profess my undying devotion.

Don’t snort, Professor, it isn’t dignified.

I am fairly certain you will write this off as a silly school girl crush. But you should know that at least one student appreciates and respects the work that you have done.

And one woman sincerely cares about your happiness.

Hermione Granger


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


It had been a year since the night Voldemort had attacked Hogwarts. Voldemort had waited for the ‘Damn-Boy-Who-Lived’ to graduate from the school so as to not risk facing him as he tried to strike the wizarding community in its heart by killing Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort had never assumed that Severus had been a spy all along and had in fact alerted everyone to expect Voldemort’s attack.

When Voldemort and his Death Eaters had made their grand entrance into the Great Hall they had been shocked to see Harry Potter standing in the center of the room, flanked by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Also filling the room were the Aurors, Dumbedore’s army, the teachers of Hogwarts and any of the older students that had remained to fight.

It had caught Voldemort off guard, but he had rebounded quickly, beginning the volley of spells that lasted nearly an hour. In the final moments of battle, Harry had stepped up one on one to face Voldemort, with Severus as his backup, casting the shielding spells to protect him.

As Harry uttered the curse to rid the wizarding world of Voldemort forever, time had seemed to stop. As the dust settled and everyone saw that Harry was still alive, the room sounded with a deafening cheer. Severus had felt a tingling on his forearm, and looked down to watch the Dark Mark disappearing into his skin, almost as if it had never been there. He couldn’t believe it was finally over.

He rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder as if to thank him and then turned, his black eyes searching the room for his reason to live. He glanced through the crowd of witches and wizards and couldn’t see her. He forced himself to look at those fallen in battle and was relieved when he didn’t find her. However, he knew something was not quite right. He whipped his head around again and noticed that nowhere did he see Lucius Malfoy.

Panic welled up in him as he pushed past Harry and ran towards the opposite end of the Great Hall. He heard her scream just as he reached the entrance hall. It was as if everything was moving slow motion. Even as he brought his own wand up, he heard Lucius mutter the killing curse and watched as the green light attacked Hermione, killing her instantly. Lucius turned towards Severus with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face, even though he knew what was coming.

Thinking back to it now, Severus could not even remember uttering the words that killed the man who had been his best friend for many years. The only thing he could remember was running to Hermione’s side, cradling her lifeless body in his arms as the dry sobs erupted from his throat.

Severus downed the next glass of whiskey and felt the darkness getting closer. ‘One more should do it’ he thought to himself as his unsteady hand poured again, this time splashing whiskey on his letter.
The letter that had started it all. The letter that he had saved and had thought about daily. The letter that had been at the forefront of his mind that day he had been in Diagon Alley restocking his supplies for the term that was to begin in three days. The letter that when seeing Hermione exit Flourish and Botts had caused him to step out in front of her, causing her to crash into him. The letter that had brought them together to share a lunch.

The damn letter that she had used her Gryffindor courage to pen had made Severus feel like a human being again and that he did deserve to live and get past the things he had done.

As they ended up sharing tea that day, Severus knew he was in love with her. He knew that the letter had made him analyze his feelings on life and Hermione, but being with her had cemented the fact that he was in love with her.

He had tried for so long to console himself with the fact that they had been able to spend over a year together, sharing each other’s company and falling deeper in love. However, on the anniversary of her death, he knew there was no way to rid himself of the memories.

As he tipped his head back to drink down the last glass of whiskey, Severus’ other hand clutched the letter as if to be closer to Hermione. As his head hit the desk, his lips moved, forming one word. “Hermione…”