He cries as they laid her to rest. The urge to open the coffin and check her pulse just once more was overwhelming. Helplessly, he watches her disappear underneath a thick layer of soil.

“Severus, don’t. You can’t go in there,” Minerva insists.

Why do they all pull on him like that? He merely wanted to hold her again. She must be cold down there. She always hated the cold…

xxx

“She’s gone, Severus,” Minerva tells him sadly. Severus shook his head. Gone? Not gone. Not really. Just gone from sight. Yes.

She’d promised always to be there for him, and she never broke her promises. Never. She… she just needed to acclimatize herself with her new situation.

He’d promised always to protect her. It was his job and his pleasure to make sure she was fine. He’d help her adjust…

xxx

He visits her grave once every weekend. During the week, he was busy with washing all her clothes by hand and folding them meticulously. The familiar lemony smell fills his bedroom again. She’d always liked that.

He had never believed in long-distance relationships, and so he begins visiting her during the week as well. Yes, that’s better.

Couples who spend too much time apart, grow apart, she’d always said. It was up to him to keep this relationship together.

Before he leaves to wash her clothes once more, he casts a powerful warming charm on the grave. Oh, how she hates cold feet.

xxx

“You’re neglecting your work, my love. Your research has come to a halt,” he tells his wife, sounding very put-upon, indeed. “Well, of course I’ll help you,” he snaps.

He does not return to Hogwarts, but walks into the Ministry, not even noticing the pitying glances that are thrown his way.

After finding Hermione’s boss, he argues for over an hour, trying to get his wife’s research notes. But the man is adamant: her work belongs to the Ministry and can’t just be handed out to the general public, not even her widowed husband.

He refrains from hexing the man, only because he is surrounded by no less than ten guards.

He stops his furious ranting when Minerva suddenly shows up. “Let me have a word with this man, Severus,” she says to him. Severus can understand her sad tone: he feels pretty much the same after his failed attempt to retrieve his wife’s work.

He does not bother to listen to their conversation and misses the man’s suddenly sad and worried expression. He also doesn’t notice how the man quickly takes some random notes out of his bin and presses them into Minerva’s hands.

“Here you go, Severus. This is some of her research: the rest is in the archive and cannot be retrieved without authorisation.” Minerva leads him away and accompanies him back to Hogwarts.

Xxx

“Severus, you have hall duty,” Minerva gently reminds him. But he already made arrangements with his wife. A loving husband can’t go back on his word.

It’s her birthday, and he smirks when he pulls her present from behind his back. “Surprise,” he chuckles. This year, she hasn’t pestered him to find out what she’d be getting. She’s maturing, he thinks proudly. With precision, he slices a generous piece of chocolate cake off. He had baked it himself.

“Is it good?” he asks hopefully as he tenderly stuffs the cake into a little hole he had dug into her grave, where her head would be. He can hear her sigh in appreciation.

xxx

He had no lessons today. He can’t quite remember when he last taught a class. But Minerva had told him that the Ministry had elected not to offer Potions this year.

It suited him just fine; he had other things to do.

He brings fresh flowers for her grave, even though it had only been yesterday that he’d brought a bunch of black roses. He flings yesterday’s bouquet onto the growing pile next to her grave and arranges the new one lovingly. It takes him thirty minutes to find the ideal position. It had always been the little things that had showed her how much he loved her, she always said.

He has come to stay at her grave just a little longer each time. Before he knows it, he awakens shivering among the red and yellow autumn leaves that cover the ground. A contented sigh escapes him; it was so good to awaken next to her.

He gets up to greet her with a good morning kiss to the headstone. What else could it be, but love?


xxx

“Severus, this is not normal. The pain of losing someone should lessen after time. Yours seems to cripple you more each day,” Minerva says, stopping him in the hallway.

Rubbish, he thinks. There is no more pain. He and Hermione have arranged themselves to the new situation. What in the name of Merlin is Minerva so worried about? They are just a devoted couple, wanting to spend as much time with each other as possible.

xxx

It is Christmas, and he bought her a new book. Settling in the snow, he begins to read to her. Every loving husband should read to his wife.

“That was a good first chapter, was it not, Hermione?” he purrs, knowing how much she loves his voice.

He is overjoyed when she answers, her voice just as vibrant and soothing as always. His delighted laugh fills the air. He continues to read; she had asked him to, after all. He makes a few sentences up; his tears blur his vision too much to see the words.

“Why the long silence, my love?” he whispers after another chapter. He laughs at her answer. “You were angry because I’ve forgotten to wash my hair?” He chuckles again. “Yes, dear, I’ll wash it later. But now, on with the story.”

xxx

His frozen body was found on top of her grave, snuggled up to her headstone.

“This was madness,” Minerva whispers brokenly as they bury him next to his wife.

But his headstone reads: “United again through love and utter devotion.”

---

Thanks to my lovely beta, moonrevel.