Everything Passes By

How was to know life would make a joke out of all our love?

Everything passing by, is not coming back.

How could I be so careless? It’s not like we live forever.

How was I to know life would make a joke out of all our love?

Everything passing by is not coming back. (x2)

Let me stay here forever, feeling the love from your soul.

I'd give up all my days to have just one more day with you.

Everything passing by is not coming back. (x2)

(yeah yeah)

Everything Passes By – VAST

Severus allowed the breath he had been holding to escape as Lucius waltzed out of the room. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate what Narcissa and Lucius were doing for him; he appreciated that his friends were putting themselves out for him, though part of him was only too well aware that they could just be doing this because he’d saved Draco.

On the other hand, he could not handle their constant questioning about his association with Hermione. He appreciated that Narcissa was concerned for him; after all, she had witnessed the effect Lily’s death had on him and was rightly concerned as to how Severus would handle himself if and when Hermione moved on and found a new love. Lucius was also worried about how Severus would fare; he had made progress since waking from his coma-like state, and the last thing Lucius desired was for his close friend to have a relapse.

Severus had spent many sleepless nights pondering how he would react to a picture of Hermione in the arms of another of another wizard. He knew it would rip at his heart, but she had so much to live for, and he was a broken man, unable to control even the simplest spells. He no longer had a role to play.

After washing and dressing, Severus seated himself in the dark-brown leather, wing-backed chair Lucius had placed in the bay window of his room. Just outside his window was a border crammed with sweet-smelling rose bushes. Severus sighed as he picked up the next newspaper from the pile to his right. Lucius had had the foresight to save any papers which contained news that he had thought his friend would find significant. Today’s edition was from June 1st, 1998, and splashed across the front page was news of his acquittal for Albus Dumbledore’s demise:

Yesterday saw the final ceremony to honour the fallen heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts. The amassed crowds were stunned and surprised when acting Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Order of Merlin, First Class, announced the acquittal of Headmaster Severus Snape. He informed those present that the Wizengamot had been able to review both the diaries of Albus Dumbledore and the memories that Harry Potter collected from Headmaster Snape as he lay dying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

Not only did the Minister announce that Snape, whom most people believed to be loyal to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, had in fact been carrying out the direct requests of the late Headmaster Albus Dumbledore when he cast the Unforgivable last year, but Shacklebolt also announced that the Wizengamot had unanimously agreed that the former Death Eater should be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, for his endeavours during the war.

Acting Headmistress Minerva McGonagall announced that she and the Board of Governors, which still includes Lucius Malfoy amongst its numbers, are hoping to have Hogwarts ready to reopen in time for the start of the spring term on 6th January. The Headmistress stated that any students wishing to return to Hogwarts to complete their OWL and NEWT courses should contact her directly for a list of self-study topics.

“Hmmm,” Severus growled. “That was one of my less inspired ideas: permitting my memories to escape quite so fully. Damn Potter and, by extension, I assume, Hermione. I can imagine the pair of them badgering Kingsley until he acquitted me.”

Turning the pages of the paper, he huffed at all the reports until he stumbled across Rita Skeeter’s column. As he read the column, his heart raced: the woman was reporting that Hermione had been seen placing flowers at his memorial and had spent an hour sitting beside the memorial talking and crying. She loved him despite everything—foolish girl.

Picking up another paper, Severus was bemused to read an advertisement for a new Potions textbook. He read further and realised that it was a text which included all the alterations he had made to his Potions book whilst still at Hogwarts. So Potter had had his book. “Waldo,” he rasped.

Waldo appeared with a soft pop. “What can Waldo be doing for Master Severus?”

“Can you ask Narcissa to come to me? I need a word with your Mistress.”

Moments later, Narcissa appeared in the doorway. “What’s the matter, Severus? Should I summon Trewella for you?”

“Did you know about this?” he demanded, pointing to the advertisement.

Narcissa walked across the room to stand beside him.

Severus watched her intently as the colour drained from her face. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then,” he whispered.

“We... that is, Lucius and Lewins thought it would be best to wait and not tell you until you were stronger, more able to deal with such a revelation, from what we have garnered from talking to Minerva.”

“You’ve spoken to Minerva?” Severus’ face contorted with rage.

“Severus.” Narcissa placed her hand on his shoulder. “We were worried about you. Lewins said there was no obvious reason for your prolonged coma. You kept muttering Miss Granger’s name during your fevers, and Lucius contacted Minerva in the hope of getting some answers.”

“Does Minerva know I am alive?”

“No, Lucius was very vague during his meetings with her. He approached her as the Executor of your will; he told her that he was just interested as to why you left everything to Miss Gra-Hermione.”

“I see. So, what did Minerva impart to him?”

“She was unable or unwilling to cast too much light on his question. Lucius knew she had been there when you made your will, but she was reluctant to tell him the whole story; he came home almost as annoyed as he had been following meetings with Dumbledore.”

Severus smirked at the thought of his former colleague evading Lucius’ enquiries.

“She told him that whilst Hermione was waiting to return to the school to complete her NEWTs, she had filled her spare time with improving the standard Potions text with the modifications the Half-Blood Prince had made to a textbook. Apparently Hermione had copied the notes from the book Horace gave Potter.”

“Do you have a copy?”

“Severus, I’m not sure it would be a wise move for you to see the book just yet. She put a dedication in the front of the book....”

“Do you have a copy, Narcissa?” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head slightly.

“I’ll get it.” Narcissa turned and left, returning shortly with a copy of the book. “Are you sure about this, Severus?”

“Please, Narcissa. I would like to see what Hermione has written.”

“Minerva told Lucius that Hermione achieved a sense of calm while she wrote this. She was adamant that Hermione took it on as a labour of love, a way to secure you the recognition she believes you deserve....”

“Narcissa, just give me the damn book.”

Reluctantly, Narcissa handed Severus the book and then turned to leave. “If that is all, Severus, I will go prepare for my sister’s arrival.”

Severus dismissed Narcissa with a wave of his hand. Watching as she left the room, he waited until he heard the door click softly before he allowed his fingers to graze across the book’s dedication. The words Hermione used fractured his heart:

“The bravest man she has ever known... bah!” Severus threw the book across the room in a fit of rage. “Coward, more like!” he hissed.

Rising from the wing-backed chair and hobbling over to where the book had landed, he stooped, and, leaning heavily upon his walking stick, he retrieved the book and returned once more to the chair. Opening the cover, he looked at the small black and white photograph of Hermione on the dust cover. Lazily, his fingers followed the outline of her face before passing across her lips. Closing his eyes, he leaned back, remembering how it had felt to have Hermione nibble the exposed flesh of his neck, how her kisses on his lips were always fierce and demanding, how alive he had felt when she was in his arms.

Hermione had given him a dream to fight for, a desire to pursue with every ounce of his being. With her, he could become someone else; with Hermione, life was worth living.

He hadn’t been able to bring himself to gaze upon the wound on his neck: he had let his fingertips graze the uneven surface numerous times, but had not gone farther. As for his ability to walk, one-hundred-year-old wizards could do so much better than he. No, it was better for Hermione to believe that he had perished on the dusty, dirty floor of the Shrieking Shack, bathed in a mixture of blood and memories. It was better to leave her with the memories of what they had had. Growling, Severus wiped a solitary tear from his cheek—she was better off without him, regardless of what Lucius and Narcissa believed.

Severus’ contemplation of the book was interrupted by the crash of Trewella as he stumbled through the Floo and knocked over a fireside table.

“My day continues its descent into hell. So, tell me, Trewella, what torture do you have in store for me this time?” Severus snarled as he glared at the young Healer.

“Mr Snape, we will be working on your leg today... I need to ascertain how much damage occurred... and how well your body is repairing the...”

“You know full well the state of my atrophied limb,” Severus snarled. “If you lack the correct information I’m sure Lewins would be only too glad to provide you with an in-depth report of my survival and recovery before you blighted my days.”

Trewella paled; even though he had been attending to Severus’s Magiotherapy for eight weeks, the man still managed to make him feel like a first-year all over again.

“What I meant, sir, was that I need to check the progress of your rehabilitation.”

“Very well,” Severus growled. “What are you waiting for, a written invitation?”

“No, sir,” Trewella mumbled as he made his way to where Severus was seated. He made several intricate patterns with his wand as he made his assessment of the limb.

“If you ask me, it’s all just foolish wand waving. I doubt you garner as much information from waving that stick over me as you would from asking me questions, stupid boy.”

Trewella continued his assessment, ignoring the snide comments spewing from his ex-professor. When he had completed all the spells, he rose from his knees and smiled weakly at Severus.

“You are making progress, though I dare say you’d progress further if only you would use your stick regularly to enable you to walk farther. I believe that Mr Malfoy has an exceptional copy of Hogwarts’ potion garden.”

“Are you finished?”

“Well, I suppose...”

“Excellent. Kindly leave me in peace.”

Trewella was relieved to have got off so lightly. Making a hasty exit, he vowed to seek out Lewins to discuss Mr Snape’s recovery. He’d have to wait until Lewins finished his meeting with Mr Malfoy, but the time would allow him to write up his notes on Severus Snape’s recovery and rehabilitation. Maybe Lewins could suggest a method for him to provoke Severus to move beyond the confines of his bedroom suite.

Lucius walked imperiously to the display that hid the entrance to St Mungo’s. Paperwork securely stowed in his satchel, he muttered the incantation, entered the hospital’s atrium and was immediately greeted by Healer Lewins.

“Mr Malfoy, if you care to follow me,” he said as he turned to the receptionist, “I will be with Mr Malfoy for the next hour. Hold all my Floos, Lydia.”

The receptionist smiled sweetly as Lewins and Lucius left the atrium.

“The idea has merit, Mr Malfoy. We would benefit from employing someone who is familiar with brewing the Wolfsbane Potion. Whilst we have many skilled Potions masters, none are as familiar as Mr Snape with the delicate procedure. It may also aid his recovery if he were encouraged to return to the laboratory. We would, of course, continue to preserve his anonymity.”

Lucius nodded. Lewins wasn’t the only one bound to silence. Severus had demanded that he and Narcissa should swear an oath to keep his survival secret until such a time that Severus was happy to integrate with the wizarding community. Lucius had asked Lewins to sign a Secrecy Agreement and had promised a substantial amount of money to secure his silence.

“My Henley residence boasts a Potions laboratory, second only to the one Severus worked in at Hogwarts, but I have yet to raise the subject with Severus. I was contemplating asking him to brew a simple hair care potion for Narcissa, but I will wait until I hear word from Trewella.”

Trewella stumbled through the Floo in the Healers’ staffroom. Dusting himself down, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. At least he’d got away without Snape hexing him as he had the previous week in a rare demonstration of magical control. The man was becoming completely unbearable.

Trewella had been waiting for twenty minutes when the door to Healer Lewin’s office opened, and the young wizard stood and waited for Lewins and Malfoy to emerge.

“Ahhh, Trewella.” Lewins smiled at him as he followed Lucius out of his office. “I’ll be with you in a moment: I’ll just see Mr Malfoy to the entrance. You may as well go in and sit down; I wish to speak with you about Mr Snape.”

Trewella nodded politely to Lucius before grabbing his notes and entering the office. He wondered what Lewins needed to discuss with him. He didn’t have to wait long, as his musings were interrupted by Lewins seating himself once more behind his large, paper-strewn desk.

“So, tell me, Angus: How is Snape progressing with his rehabilitation? Mr Malfoy tells me that he refuses to leave his room. I would have thought that by now you would have managed to encourage him to get out and about a bit more.” Trewella made an attempt to speak, but Lewins barely took a breath before continuing: “I know that Snape is not the easiest person to get along with, but you have been working with him for two months, now.”

“Sir, I have no idea how to stop the man from brooding. He is rude, uncooperative, and his insults...”

“Trewella,” Lewins interrupted abruptly, “you were taught by the man for seven years: surely you know that his bark is worse than his bite? Do you need me to come with you next time?”

“No, sir, it's fine. I know I have to stand up to him.” Trewella looked Lewins in the eye. His boss was right, of course. Although he had been sorted into Hufflepuff, it was high time that he demonstrated that he was no pushover. He had achieved the highest recorded marks for his training, and he was a skilled Magiotherapist. It was time for him to assert himself with Mr Snape and find a way to get through to the man. “Thank you, sir. I don’t think your presence will be required. However, I do think I need to speak with Mr Malfoy before I see Mr Snape again. There’s something bothering Mr Snape, and I would like to get at least an indication as to what it might be.”

Trewella made to leave the office, but Lewins halted his progress before he reached the door.

“Trewella, wait; you’re probably better off speaking with me. Mr Malfoy and his wife are acting as Secret Keepers for Mr Snape, and I’m unsure as to whether or not Mr Malfoy would be willing to share what I have to tell you. Please, sit.” Lewins rose from his seat and began to pace his room. “As you know, Snape worked for both sides of the war. He supplied the Death Eaters with information, while also being the person to provide Potter with the Sword of Gryffindor. Despite the fact that he tainted his name by carrying out Dumbledore’s last wish, he formed an attachment with Miss Granger. He would pass information to Miss Granger about the task Dumbledore had given Potter, and from what we garnered from Snape himself and the current Headmistress of Hogwarts, Snape and Granger were close.”

Lewins took a moment to stare out of the window onto the street below. “Snape has refused to allow Malfoy to contact Miss Granger and inform her of his survival. He has left everything to the young woman. If you can get through to him about his grief, for that is what he is suffering with, I believe you will be able to make progress with his rehabilitation. Snape needs to recognise that all is not lost. Minerva tells me that, even now, Miss Granger is feeling his loss deeply.”

Suddenly, Trewella could see a way forward. If he could indeed get Snape to open up about his role in the war, he could get Snape to accept that he was not quite as broken as he believed he was.

Lucius left Lewins in the atrium of St Mungo’s once more. Their meeting had been a partial success. Lewins reported that the extension to the Magical Maladies wards was going well. The Longbottoms and Lockhart were doing as well as could be expected, but were oblivious to the changes that were happening around them. He had also offered hope that Severus might respond positively to getting back into a Potions laboratory.

Narcissa was there to greet him when he arrived back at the manor.

“How are Andromeda and Teddy?” he asked before leaning in to kiss his wife on her cheek.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Lucius looked at his wife, noticing her furrowed brow, “What’s the matter? Is something wrong with Severus?”

“Fine, in as much as Teddy is teething again. Not as such with respect to Severus.” Narcissa turned to the drinks table and poured two glasses of cognac before facing her husband once more. “You’d better sit, love.”

Narcissa sat beside her husband on the sofa and offered him one of the glasses. “Severus was reading the papers you have set aside for him this morning. You’d only been gone a short while when he summoned Waldo to request my immediate presence. It would seem one of the papers held a report both of his acquittal and the tentative work Hermione had done on the Potions text.”

“Damn.” Lucius paled. “Did he ask to see it?”

“Of course.”

“Have you given him the copy?”

“You know how persuasive the man can be and how unpredictable his control of his magic is at the moment. I didn’t wish to experience his anger first hand.”

“And?”

“I haven’t been able to see him since I left him with the book. He’s cursed quite a lot... I had to put a Silencing Spell up while Teddy and Andromeda were here.”

“Leave it to me: I think I can handle him.” Lucius drained his glass before leaving the sitting room.

In the hours since Narcissa had given him the book, Severus had experienced a range of emotions. He had been angered that they had kept the book from him, his heart had been ripped apart by Hermione’s dedication, and then an unswerving determination had gripped him.

Severus was seated in the wing-backed chair when Lucius barged into the room, wand in hand and a determined look on his face. He had removed the papers from the table and had placed them before him. He was concentrating on the white peacock feather that rested on the table top.

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

Lucius watched as the white feather twitched slightly before rising slowly in the air. The look of concentration on Severus’ face suddenly changed into a smile of sorts. Before Lucius had time to react, Severus was probing his mind, rifling through his memories searching for something.

“Severus, what are you looking for?”

“Silence, Lucius. Show me... show me your meetings with Minerva.”

Lucius was powerless against Severus; even though the younger man was physically weaker than he, he had always surpassed him when it came to Occluding and reading others’ minds. How else could Severus have survived their meetings with Voldemort?

Breathing heavily, Lucius pulled the memories of his meetings with Minerva to the front of his mind.

“Well, Lucius, I have to admit I was intrigued by your request for a chat.” Minerva offered the younger man a cup of tea.

“As you may know, Minerva, I am the Executor for Severus’ will. I am somewhat surprised that he has left everything to Miss Granger.”

“Ah, I see now why you have asked for a meeting. Severus and Miss Granger arrived at an understanding... I don’t think anything was acted upon, but from what I understand, Severus and Hermione were working together through most of the last year. When Severus’ lawyer drew up the will, he asked Remus and me to witness the paperwork after a meeting of the Order. I thought it strange that he would leave everything to Miss Granger—it was then that he informed me of their association.”

“You don’t seem perturbed by the fact that Severus was attracted to a witch many years his junior.”

Minerva tilted her head in a way which reminded Lucius of his friend. “Mr Malfoy, of all the witches I have seen come through this school, Miss Granger is the only witch I could ever see Severus being attracted to. Yes, he was infatuated with Miss Evans whilst a teenager, but their friendship was doomed from the minute she was Sorted into Gryffindor and he was Sorted into Slytherin.”

Minerva rose from her seat and began to pace the room in a manner reminiscent of her predecessor. “Were you aware that Severus was the one who gifted Harry with the Sword of Gryffindor? The attachment that Hermione and Severus formed haunts her still. She can often be found down by the lake, talking to Severus’ memorial. I have given my house-elf, Twinkie, instructions to watch over her while she sits and talks and sometimes weeps for her lost love.”

Lucius was intrigued, yet managed to school his face so as not to betray his inner ponderings.

“I take it Hermione has not been to Spinner’s End yet?” Minerva questioned before taking a sip from her tea.

“Not that I am aware of. This, of course, does not mean that she has not been to look at the... well, it’s not a particularly nice place from what I remember of it.”

Severus slumped back in the chair, exhausted. Beads of sweat prickled the surface of his skin, and his breathing was rapid and uneven. Lucius slumped slightly, surprised by Severus’s non-verbal invasion of his mind.

“Has she been yet?”

“Been?”

“Has Hermione been to Spinner’s End yet?”

“Not that I am aware of,” Lucius panted.

Closing his eyes, Severus allowed his head to fall backwards against the chair.

“Minerva was right: she misses you. She has been inconsolable. I went to visit your memorial this year with Minerva for your birthday, and she was seated on the ground by your headstone. I stayed for, maybe, twenty minutes.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Severus rasped as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You may not want to hear of such things,” Lucius snarled as he rose to stand, “but it’s about time you did hear some home truths. She loves you, Severus, and yet you refuse to ask me to fetch her to you...”

“What use am I to her? You’ve seen her scores for her NEWTs: the world is her oyster...”

“And it means nothing to her; she has nothing without the man she loves by her side...”

“What do you know of love, Lucius?”

“More than you, obviously.”

“How dare you presume that...”

“What, you think twenty years devotion to a woman who never thought more of you than friendship and a year-long entanglement with Miss Granger make you knowledgeable about love?”

Severus sighed. Lucius had the bit between his teeth; all that Severus could do was sit and listen.

Lucius spun away from his friend, anger thrumming through him. “She is devoted to your memory, foolish chit that she is.” Lucius swirled around to once more face his friend. “She is what you need, Severus. Narcissa and I can only do so much.”

“Leave, Lucius. I need to think.”

“Damn right you need to think. Don’t throw Miss Granger’s love away.”

With that, Lucius exited the room, leaving Severus to contemplate his next move.

Lucius slammed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. Breathing heavily, he slid to the floor.

“What have I done?” he muttered to himself.

Narcissa was shocked when she saw Lucius in a heap. “What happened?”

“He was concentrating on his magic when I entered, but before I knew it, he was rifling through my mind.” Lucius slowly stood. “He wanted to see my meeting with Minerva, and after he was satisfied, he withdrew, and then we argued.”

“Come, love, you need a drink, then you can tell me all about it.”

Severus slumped further into the chair after Lucius exited the room. Looking at the clock above the fire, Severus realised that it was still only mid-afternoon. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he began to ponder Lucius’ words.

Hermione smiled as she turned to say goodbye to Padraig. Before Padraig could depart, however, Minerva stood at the open door to her cottage.

“Well, what a surprise. How lovely to see you again, Padraig, I wasn’t aware that you knew Miss Granger.”

“Minerva!” The young man smiled at his former professor. “How lovely to see you again. You look well. I’ve just met Miss Granger: We were both visiting Avoca, and I saw that Hermione seemed a little lost, so we had lunch and talked. She filled me in on everything I’ve missed while I’ve been away.”

Minerva was relieved that Padraig was keeping up the pretence in front of Hermione. “Why don’t you come in for some tea? I have some cake, too.”

“I don’t know if that’s...”

“Nonsense!” Minerva had another plan forming in her mind. “I won’t hear of it. Come, I can make a fresh pot, and we can catch up on what you’ve been doing recently.”

Padraig looked at Hermione and smiled an apology; he knew it was useless trying to resist Minerva when she had plans brewing.

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Potterverse; it all belongs to JK Rowling and others too numerous to mention.

I am, as always, eternally grateful to my fantastic support team. Scoffy, thank you for the long Y!M chats about this chapter and your endless support, and nit picking *smooches*. I also extend thanks to little_beloved for mopping up my punctuation errors.

Finally, beffeysue, thank you so much for all your encouragement and the love you show for this story. You have no idea how much it means to me.

Ladies, you rock my fanfic world, thank you!