These Years After You

These Years After You

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character contained within this short story. I do however own the plot.

A/N: This was originally posted a few years ago. Someone just wrote me a review and I thought I'd post it again with a few edits. This is not a true SS/HG fic. It is more of a tragic fic turned hopeful. I hope you like it.

Red

**Flashback**

Flames flickered their shadows in the corridors of a once beloved castle, now in ruins. Among its rubble lay bodies of unrecognizable bones and charred flesh. An echo of voices drifted in the burning halls. Intense voices raised in fear.

"Go! Get away while you still can."

A male voice rasped out in desperation followed by a higher pitched, fear-induced answer.

"I’m not leaving you."

"You have no choice. I can’t follow. You have to go."

"Not without you. Now, come on… TRY!"

Sounds of scraping and grunting came from around the corner. Flames flicked even closer. A cry of pain stopped the sounds.

"You can’t. It’s too big. It won’t move."

"Let me try to lift it again…"

Another deep scream echoed up the hallowed halls followed by silence, then a long barrage of curses.

"I can’t do it." The feminine voice whispered.

"I know. But it doesn’t matter now. I couldn’t walk out of here anyway. I have no legs, damn it. No… don’t look."

Another curse and exclamation came from the woman.

"Oh, Gods…"

"Its not that bad. At least it doesn’t hurt when we aren’t shifting the beams. Leave it where it lays."

"I can’t. I have to get you out of here. I will move this and I’ll carry you."

"No. There is no more time. You have to go before the hall is totally ablaze. I will not be responsible for your death, too."

A muffled sob echoed around, followed by a disparaged cry.

"Don’t say that…"

"Just go. Please… Don’t let me die with the fear of you dying, too."

His voice lowered. His fear of her burning to death along side of him consumed him. He needed her to live. He needed her to love and grow old and to have the family she deserved.

"Severus…" Tears fell heavily down her cheeks as the air filled with heavy smoke. The flames were beckoning at her back. She could feel the heat through her school robes.

"Go… Hermione… Save yourself. For me… If you really love me… Get OUT!"

Hermione seemed to ignore him as she looked about her person, searching for tools of any kind.

"Let me get a beam… and rock… I can use leverage to…"

Severus looked down at the heavy beam lying across his pelvis. In truth, there was no pain, at least, not anymore. The beam literally cut him in two. From the lack of pain, he surmised that his spinal column had been severed. Not much pain until she tried to lift the beam. Then the pressure would subside and a blinding pain would erupt, filling his brain with a fierce, intense pain from his abdomen on up.

"No, love… Listen to me." He reached for her shaking hand and turned her to look at him. He raised his one still-working hand and cupped her cheek, his finger caressed her tear-streaked face. "I’m dying anyway. If you succeed in moving this beam, the pain alone will kill me. As it is, it’s a blessing. I can not feel anything. Hermione, my life is over, I’ve done what I can for you and the Order. We’ve won." He turned his face towards the crackling of the fire knowing it was drawing closer with every passing second. He had to get her out of there. "Neither of our wands are in one piece. You must go, you must save yourself."

"But I can’t just leave you… Not like this." Her voice cracked in her misery. They both could feel the heat of the blaze as it grew closer. Voices screamed and yelled from the outside of the old castle.

"You have to, Hermione. You have to live. You have to survive and live for both of our sake. Live like I would have wanted you to."

"Severus…" Her voice choked with combined sorrow and smoke.

"There is nothing you can do for me, my love. I am past help. You must go before the fire blocks your escape."

The crackling of the wood mostly drowned her hiccuping sobs out. Her hands grabbed onto his arms tightly in near desperation and hysteria.

His voice was faint and she leaned forward to hear him better. "I only ask for one last kiss, Hermione… One kiss to help me over the River Stix."

She nodded and leaned forward. Their lips met once more in a sweet caress of tenderness. When she pulled back, there were tears in his eyes as well.

"Help me pass, Hermione. Before the fire consumes me."

The tears in her eyes blinded her as she reached for her wand, her broken wand, and raised it. There was not enough power in her wand to conjure any leverage to move the beam and she doubted there was enough to conjure the killing curse. Instead, she muttered a transfiguration chant. A purplish glow surrounded a pebble at her knees and they both watched it take shape. After what seemed like a lifetime, she reached down to pick up the newly formed pistol.

Severus watched her as she lifted the weapon experimentally. Their eyes met, one set filled with pain and the other with determination..

"I can still find some way… still… transfigure the beam… I can still…" Her voice seemed small even to his ears.

"No, Hermione… I am already dead. My lower half is gone. Please don’t cry, I have no fear. I know our paths will cross again, someday. Just remember… I love you."

Hermione’s tears fell as she nodded. The flames were closer now. If she was to do it, it had to be now.

"I love you too, Severus… There will never be another."

"Live, Hermione…Live and love again. I would want that for you." His hand caressed her cheek then fell limply to the ground. His eyes closed as the exhaustion and lack of air consumed him.

"Never… Love… You are my life."

She raised the pistol and aimed it at his heart.

"I will always love you."


**End flashback***

--00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00--

~Some time later~


"He’s perfect."

Poppy placed the new born in the new mother’s arms and left the room. Hermione glanced down at the baby and smiled softly. Her fingers pulled back the blanket in order to get a better look at the baby in her arms.

"Ten fingers…ten toes…two eyes, one nose, one mouth, dark black hair…"

Hermione sniffed, thinking about the one man that she lost. The baby resembled him in a lot of ways. Even down to the misshapen nose. Although it wasn’t completely formed yet, she could already tell that her son had been cursed with his father’s very dark eyes and a very large nose. She had inwardly hoped that he would take after her in that way, well at least the nose part

Her son.

She sighed and pulled the sleeping bundle closer to her. If only he was here. Things would have turned out differently. Her son would be…

Poppy reentered the room, interrupting Hermione from that trail of thought. Behind the Mediwitch came Minerva, Headmistress of the newly rebuilt Hogwarts. Both women wore a grin from ear to ear.

"He’s beautiful, Hermione. I suspect that he will resemble his father immensely. Why… just look at all that hair."

"I know. He does, doesn’t he?" Hermione beamed up at her friends. Now that the war was over and the old school had been rebuilt, she was back. This time, as a teacher.

"We’re glad to have you back," Minerva replied solemnly as she watched the new mother over her spectacles. "Is the career over with permanently?"

"I’m afraid so. That fall really did the old back in. It was simple fortuity that you sent your offer to me the very next day."

Minerva had the good sense to look embarrassed. "It wasn’t just fortuity, my dear. It was more along the line of word passage and the Daily Prophet. I heard of the accident the day before and immediately knew you would need the work. Especially with the baby coming. Besides… you belong here."

Hermione shifted in the bed and the movement jostled the newborn, causing him to waken and howl.

"Oh, Goodness," Poppy chuckled at the lungs of the baby.

"Well, he doesn’t get that from me." Hermione laughed as she pulled the baby to her front, exposing her breast to her son for the first time. She had heard that the first time to breast-feed would be a bit painful and indeed, it was. As soon as her child figured it out, the suction was intense but bearable. She knew she would get used to it over time.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" Minerva asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I was thinking of Samuel."

"Severus’s middle name?" Poppy seemed a bit surprised at that.

"I always liked it. Its very… masculine."

The other women nodded and watched the dark-haired baby nurse.

"He would have been a good father if given the chance," Minerva sighed sadly, missing her old friend.

"Yes, he would have," Hermione agreed. "Too bad fate stepped in."

"Fate is a fickle bitch, Hermione. There is a reason for everything. Perhaps this was the reason for his death."

Hermione could only nod her head. The death of Severus was still something that seared into her heart.

The scrape of a door opening sounded and all three women looked up. A tall, dark haired man stepped in with a big grin on his face.

"Sorry I am late…" His voice low with excitement. His dark eyes shining with joy. "Can I come in?"

Minerva chuckled and motioned for the man to enter.

"I believe you can. After all, it is your son."

Viktor Krum walked slowly and painfully over to Hermione and glanced lovingly down at his son, suckling at his wife’s breast. He leaned heavily on the cane clutched tightly in his left hand.

Hermione smiled up at her husband of three years and reached up to caress his cheek.

"He looks just like you… Look."

Viktor’s eyes misted over as he took in the baby.

"He looks like us… Her-mi-o-knee."

Hermione giggled. Over time, Viktor’s enunciation of her name got better. Over the years after Severus’s death, it took some time, but she did manage to fall in love again. And who would have thought that she would end up, back in love, with her first boyfriend.

"I want to name him Samuel." She looked up into her husband’s eyes and he smiled down at her. Viktor had always known of her love for ‘him’. When they had first started dating again nearly four years ago, she had let him know that, under no certain terms, would she ever get over Severus. But Viktor didn’t falter. He didn’t let that stop him. He loved her and was determined to win her over, and he did. And he never got upset over it. Time was said to heal all wounds. Truth was that he was grateful to Severus Snape. He'd made Hermione into the woman she was now. His cold façade in the face of adversity helped her to develop into a warm loving person that could love another misfit, namely himself. Many times, he had sent his thanks to the long deceased man.

"Vat, no Severus?" His voice teased as he sat heavily onto the bed next to her.

Hermione’s face fell for a moment before she turned her brown eyes to those of her husband. "No… that would be too hard. I want Samuel… Samuel Krum."

"Samuel Viktor Krum." Viktor added.

Hermione smiled up at him, then down at their son.

"Samuel Viktor Krum, it is… Welcome to our new world."

--00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00—00--

In the still of the night, a figure looked down on the sleeping baby and a ghostly smile hovered over his normally hard features. His pale hand reached forward and with great care pushed back the down of Sam’s hair. He was perfect in every way. Silently, he drifted across the room to observe the sleeping couple.

She looked at peace. He looked happy.

"These years after you… I have lived… I have loved… but I have never forgot. I love you."

Severus' voice drifted to her ears and she smiled in her sleep, feeling the ghostly kiss on her forehead.

The figure smiled in response and faded away.