XXII: The Circle Closes (epilogue)

Thanks go first and foremost to JKR. Everything you recognise belongs to her.

Secondly, thanks go to my beta Apple Blossom.

Last but not least, I want to thank all you faithful readers. Thank you for reading and leaving such lovely notes. Your comments have meant a lot to me.

This chapter will take you a few years into the future. Cassandra and Severus had their baby, and the little princess is now almost old enough to go to Hogwarts. If you want to read about the baby years, skip this chapter and read the sequel A Gift of the Goddess instead.

Please have a hanky ready when reading this last chapter.

Chapter XXII: The Circle Closes (epilogue)

It felt strange returning to Iceland. Strange, but at the same time wonderful. He had spent eight peaceful years there. And he had found the love of his life.

He had not cried the day Cassandra had passed away. She had asked him not to. He had, however, cried bitter tears the day the Healer had told him that there was nothing they could do for her.

It had started with a cough in early spring. A cold, Cassandra had said. A cold that would go away as soon as the weather became warmer again. And he had believed her, had so desperately wanted to believe her. He had brewed Coughing Potions and believed her right up until the day that a coughing fit had made her collapse in his arms. He had rushed her to the infirmary, and Poppy had called a Healer. They had examined her for almost half an hour, just to come out and tell Severus that the illness had advanced too far to be stopped.

He had just glared menacingly at the Healer for some moments, even considered putting Crucio on him for lying. Then he had just shoved the man out of his way and rushed into the infirmary. At Cassandra's bedside he had broken down. He had not meant to cry. He had meant to be strong for her. But the thought of losing her had been overwhelming.

She had stroked his hair and begged him not to cry, told him that she wasn't afraid of dying and looking forward to spending the time she had left with him. Then she had dried off his tears and held him in her arms until the morning.

Spring had turned into summer, and her cough had become bearable. Severus had brewed her potions, had made sure she drank them. And for some weeks he had been able to convince himself that the Healer had been wrong. He had, after all, not heard her cough for quite some time. But then again, Muffliato had always been one of Cassandra's best spells.

Autumn had brought wet weather, and she had been forced to spend a lot of time in the infirmary. She had become weak and had difficulties keeping standing when a coughing fit hit her. And Severus had spent as much time as possible with her. Cassandra had hated being helpless, she had hated being sick. But she had never complained. And she had never cried.

She had passed away the day before Christmas. Her breathing had been shallow for days. And Severus had seen in her face that she was in pain. But she had been brave. Just as she always had been.

He had spent the last hours by her side, holding her in his arms, caressing her, kissing her. And when he awoke from his uneasy slumber on Christmas morning, his body drained from energy and his eyes burning from unshed tears, he could only hope that she had still heard him when he told her that he loved her more than anything else in the world.

He had awoken to this question ever since. It was the first thing on his mind when he woke up in the morning and the last thing before he drifted of to sleep at night.

'Daddy, Daddy, can I get one of those cookies?'

Her sweet voice ripped Severus out of his reverie, and he looked down at the girl who was tugging at his sleeve. She looked so much like her mother: raging red, unruly hair, eyes blue like the spring sky and a smile that made the sun itself look pale. Of course she could get a cookie. He had never been able to say no to her.

The day Cassandra had told him that she was carrying his child, he had just stared at her in utter disbelief. They had both been convinced that Yaxley's spell had done too much damage for her ever to conceive again. And when he had been done staring, he had taken her in his arms and made love to her. He had never been so happy in his life.

'Yes, Eydis,' he answered. 'Of course you can get a cookie.'

Eydis. It had seemed fitting to choose an Icelandic name. And Cassandra had certainly chosen a beautiful one. Their daughter had truly been a gift, and Severus would have done anything for her.

He was a strict father and demanded a lot from his daughter. He had hired the best tutors in Britain, even taught her himself when his duties as Deputy Headmaster left him the time. He wanted his daughter to be great. He wanted her to excel in her studies. Once she graduated from Hogwarts, all the doors in the Wizarding world should be open to her.

But most of all, he wanted to see his daughter happy.

She had him wrapped around her little finger. And he would have walked through fire for her.

The day she was born he had sworn that he would never become like his father had been. He would never raise his hand against his daughter. And he would never make her cry.

Yes, he loved his daughter more than life itself. Had it not been for her, he did not know what he had done after Cassandra's death. He might have taken poison. He might have disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. Or he might just have become a bitter old man. But for Eydis, he had chosen to live.

The only thing he regretted was that Eydis had had far too little time with her mother. She had only been three years old when Cassandra had died, and now she could barely remember her. And that was why Severus had brought her to Iceland for her eleventh birthday, to show her the place where he had come to love her mother.

'Is this the café where you and Mummy used to meet?' Eydis asked.

Severus nodded and pointed towards a table on the other side of the room. 'Yes, we used to sit over there by the window.'

Eydis grabbed her cacao and her cookie, scurried over to the table he had pointed out and settled on the chair that was much too big for her. She had inherited her size from her mother as well and was at least two heads shorter than her peers.

When Severus approached, she looked up at him and smiled. Just the way her mother had done so many times. He swallowed to make the lump in his throat disappear and sat down opposite his daughter.

'Your mother loved those cookies as well,' he explained.

Eydis brushed some crumbles from her lips and tilted her head. 'You miss Mummy a lot, don't you, Daddy?'

He felt tears well up his eyes and quickly blinked them away. He would not cry. He had promised Cassandra.

'Yes, little one,' he answered silently. 'I miss your mother very much. I have done so every single day for the last eight years.'

'Tell me about mummy.'

Eydis often asked him to tell her about her mother. And Severus never grew tired of doing so.

'She used to sit on the chair you are sitting on every Thursday afternoon,' he began. 'She graded papers and drank coffee.'

'And waited for you?'

Severus nodded. 'Yes. And when I came in, she smiled at me with the same smile you are smiling at me now, little one.'

Eydis slipped down from her chair and hugged her father tightly. 'I wish I had known her,' she whispered. 'She seemed to have made you happy, Daddy. And I know that she loved you very much.'

Severus wrapped his arms around his daughter and buried his face in her red hair, unable to hold back the tears now. Yes, Cassandra had made him happy. She had helped him embrace his past. She had made him smile. She had truly loved him. And she had shown him the way home.

With his arms wrapped around his daughter, he raised his gaze towards the window and caught a glimpse of long blond hair. He blinked and recognised Per, who was holding the hand of a dark haired woman and carrying a laughing two year old boy on his shoulders. The blond man was smiling, and there was a glow in his eyes that suggested that he was very, very happy.

Furtively, Severus wiped the tears from his face and took his daughter by the hand.

'Come now, little one,' he said. 'Let us go to Hveragerði. Let us go home.'

A/N: Eydis: Ey-: Old Norse auja, meaning fortune, gift; -dis: Old Norse dis, meaning sister, woman, goddess