Author's Notes: Woo! Two of my classes finished, so I finally get a chance to play with Hermione and my darling Severus again!

---

Colin Creevey had never been much of a fighter. Sure, he’d learned a few defensive spells at Hogwarts that came in handy now and then, but when it came right down to it, his true strength was in capturing critical moments in history so they would not be forgotten.

So it was that he had kept to the sidelines of the Final Battle, now six years gone, snapping photographs that made him famous practically overnight. The one that showed Harry Potter throwing the final curse that ultimately brought down Voldemort had made the cover of almost every magazine in the Wizarding World.

Now, he was the proud owner of a modest little photography studio in Diagon Alley.

After closing up his shop for the day, Colin Apparated back to his flat, where he found a parcel waiting for him. A note from his mum told him she’d been going through a few of his old things, and found his school trunk; she’d sent along the contents for him to sort through.

Settling down at the kitchen table, he started bringing out different items that reminded him of his years at Hogwarts. Colin was surprised to find an unlabelled roll of film toward the bottom of the box. He was usually almost compulsive about either marking his film cases or developing them immediately. Curious, he set aside the remainder of the items in the box and made his way downstairs to his personal darkroom.

---

A little over an hour later, Colin was looking through a set of photographs taken at the spring ball during the Golden Trio’s sixth year. Thinking back, he remembered taking the pictures, mostly of Harry and some of the other dancers.

The Battle had taken place only a few months later, right before the Leaving Feast. Though Voldemort and his followers had been defeated, their side had suffered more than a few losses. Professor Sprout, Hagrid, and Professor Trelawny had all been killed, as had many of the students. Most of those losses had been among the DA, who found themselves in the thick of things. Fred and George Weasley had gone down together, protecting Ginny and Ron from the vicious assault of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Reflecting back on those dark times, Colin was just about to set the pictures aside when a small movement in the top corner of one made him pause. In the background, it appeared that two people were hidden in a darkened alcove. Using his wand to outline the area, Colin cast a spell that would enlarge and enhance the image on a new sheet of photo paper. As the image resolved, he was startled to see none other than Hermione Granger, dancing slowly with Professor Snape, both oblivious to everyone around them.

Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and spy for the Order of the Phoenix, had also been among the fallen. His true loyalties had been confirmed at the last minute, when he’d shown up and grimly started executing Death Eaters. In the end, he died when he stepped in front of an unknown student and was hit with a blazing green curse.

Colin realized that as little as a year ago, he would have been disgusted by the photograph. But then he’d met Diana, the daughter of a fellow shop owner, and the girl he planned to marry next month. She looked at him the same way Hermione was looking at Professor Snape…and he was pretty sure he looked at her the way Professor Snape was looking at Hermione. They were in love.

After the battle Hermione Granger had disappeared, and every attempt to find her had failed. Harry and Ron were inconsolable; even the owls were unable to track her down. Since her body was not among the dead, she was still presumed to be alive, but no one had heard from her in six years. Looking down at the picture in his hand, he knew that he had to find her.

Colin had an advantage, though he’d never felt the need to volunteer that information; he understood the need to disappear sometimes. Most people weren’t aware of it, but he and Hermione had gotten to know each other fairly well as they recovered from their basilisk encounter.

They’d talked about their futures, how he wanted to continue with his photography career. She’d told him about the books she was planning to write, and the potential careers she hoped to explore. One somber night, they’d talked about what they would do if the worst happened…if Voldemort not only returned, but won.

Colin had family in Canada, and would head in that direction. Hermione spoke fondly of a small villa she’d inherited in Greece; she’d described it in such detail, he could practically see it in his head. Thinking back over those discussions, Colin thought he might know where she’d gone, and why.

---

Colin Creevey knocked on the door of a small Greek villa, hoping against hope that he was in the right place. There was a pause, and then the door opened. He had found her. She was older, of course; so was he. But something…grief perhaps…had aged her features more than he’d have expected.

“Hullo, Hermione,” he said softly.

“Hello, Colin,” she replied, seemingly not surprised to see him.

He cleared his throat. “Umm…I found this roll of film, in my school trunk.” He shuffled nervously from foot to foot, finally thrusting the framed photograph at her. “When I developed it…well, I thought you’d like to have this.”

Hermione looked at him oddly for a moment before her eyes dropped to the picture. If it hadn’t been so quiet, he would have missed the hitch in her breathing. If he hadn’t been watching so closely, he might have missed the instant when her smooth mask crumbled and he saw the broken witch underneath. But he caught both, and knew he’d been right.

“Thank you, Colin,” she said quietly. “This means more than you know.”

“I understand,” he said, and realized he meant it. He looked her over one last time. “Goodbye Hermione.”

She smiled faintly. “Goodbye, Colin.”

---

As the sun set over the ocean, Hermione sat quietly in a chair on the porch; the picture rested in her lap, and she looked fondly at the image of the first and last man she’d ever loved. She was deep in thought when a small boy came over to stand beside her; he was about five years old, and sported dark curly hair and black eyes. Curious, the boy looked over her shoulder at the photograph.

“Mama? Who’s the man with you in the picture?”

When Severus had thrown himself in front of her that day, taking a Killing Curse meant for her, he’d unknowingly saved two lives…she’d never gotten the chance to tell him.

Hermione released a shuddering breath. “That, Andrew...that man was your father.”

---

Author's Notes: I know, tres angsty. However, I do hope that you enjoyed it. And remember...reviews are like cookies, so please feed the author!