Schuler’s Meadow was being systematically drowned. The rain hadn’t abated “ if anything, it had gotten steadily harder and was now pounding down upon grass, tree and stone. Not to mention the group of people that stood in the center of the meadow, in a large natural flowerbed, surrounding a casket.
The casket was made of the finest wood, polished rigorously. It was all black, with leather-covered handles and white silk lining. It was beautiful. Inside lay a young man, dressed in the darkest black robes. His face, by contrast, was whiter than snow. His hands were folded on his still chest.
Along with the meadow’s flowers that surrounded the coffin, there were also bouquets of flowers brought by the people in the funeral’s attendance. Rose caught sight of a floral name tribute. Red and white roses had been mixed and shaped to form the word “brother”.
It was a small funeral. Only family: Potters, Weasleys… Teddy Lupin had come, as had Hermione’s parents. Rose wondered if that was because Harry and Ginny hadn’t wanted big one, or if there just weren’t enough people left to attend “ Rose had noticed a lack of James’s school friends. His girlfriend, Lydia, wasn’t present. Rose had a strong feeling that many, if not all of them, must have succumbed to the disease.
Aunt Ginny was hugging her mother. Albus and Lily were standing abreast, staring at the flowers around the casket. Rose was near Harry, who was standing with Rose’s mother and father. They were talking quietly and Hermione had a hard grip on Harry’s hand. After a few moments, Ginny joined them, eyes red and swollen. Harry hugged her tightly and Rose looked away, moving closer to her cousins. She would never stop blaming herself for this. She wanted to go up to her aunt and uncle and tell them how sorry she was “ but how did you put something like that into meaningful words?
Most of all, Rose wanted to tell James she was sorry.
Lily seemed to sense her thoughts and reached out and took her hand. Rose squeezed back but stopped quickly, because it hurt.
Her wounds were all mostly healed, but still sore. She’d managed to return home about five minutes after she’d left and her mother had attacked her immediately. Everyone wanted to know what had happened, but Rose hadn’t been able to stand on her own, let alone talk. As her parents and aunt and uncle had searched for potions and spells to heal her shoulder wound and the two gashes on her head, she’d told them all what had happened. It had been almost impossible to repeat it all, but she’d given them the whole story. Well “ most of it. She didn’t think her mother would like it if she blurted out that she’d told Snape she was in love with him. That was something Rose would get off her chest later, when she was alone with Al and Lily.
A man walked around the casket, to stand near its head, breaking Rose out of her thoughts.
Rose’s umbrella tugged at her hand, threatening to turn inside out as her family slowly quieted around her. Her silky black robes swayed in the icy wind, allowing cold to seep to her legs. She shivered as the man began to say a prayer. The only sounds apart from his voice were the small cries of mourners and the spattering of rain on the large tent-like umbrella that had been erected directly over the coffin to keep it dry.
Rose almost didn’t listen to the prayer. The man’s deep, soothing voice brought a lump to her throat and Rose found her eyes resting on James. She was all cried out after the past few months. Her tears for Snape had been the last strand. Her eyes stung and her throat ached, but nothing slipped from her lids.
The prayer had ended and someone had begun to sing. Rose turned to see that someone had hired a vocalist “ and told her the lullaby.
Peace will come to you in time
And I will sing this lullaby
It was a song that she, Hugo, Albus, Lily and James had heard countless times. Their parents had sung it to them every night, and even sometimes during the day. They had grown up with the sweet, haunting melody. It had been the ultimate cure when they’d been ill, when they’d fallen and hurt themselves, when some other child had called them names. Rose couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard it, but hearing it now caused her chest to suddenly throb with colossal pain. Next to her, Lily burst into tears.
That I would stay here by your side
The vocalist continued to sing, and Rose saw Ginny join in soundlessly. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. Rose had to bite her cheeks to stop her lips quivering. The singer went on, but more quietly now. The lullaby, terrible and beautiful, was in the background. The man who’d been saying the prayer now cleared his throat for a speech. His dark skin shone in the rain.
Kingsley Shacklebolt looked around at everyone before speaking. He was Minister for Magic and a close family friend. Rose didn’t wonder why he’d been chosen to speak.
Remember this sweet lullaby
‘There is nothing more painful than the death of a young person,’ began Kingsley. ‘I think that is something that all of us have realized over the past few months. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can replace the brightness of a child.’
Don't you ever stop believing
‘James Sirius Potter was such a person. He lit up the day with his dancing blue eyes, his ever-ready laughter. Before this disease began to spread, I was proud that he was soon to join the Ministry. He would have made the place even better than it is now. However, things were not meant to be.’
With love you'll find your way
‘We were blessed with a miracle “ a cure, found simply by luck. Sometimes however, even the greatest miracles aren’t miraculous for everyone. James lost his life despite the fact that without his help, the cure would have never seen the light of day. He tested the potion, ensured that it was safe and worked, and thus “ James Potter has allowed the rest of the world to be cured.’
‘In this death, we find comfort, and even joy. In this way, James has actually lived on. Six thousand nine hundred and ninety nine children have died from this accursed disease, including James. Six thousand nine hundred and ninety nine suns have set around the world. But because of him, and his family, James’s death has been the final sunset.’
I leave this night with heavy heart
‘Even as we mourn for a young man who was blessed with an enormous soul, filled with laughter. Even as we remember his jokes and pranks and trouble-making days at Hogwarts. Even as we recall how he matured and bloomed into a man to be proud of… even as we cry… we must always remember to feel some joy. Without James Sirius Potter, there would have been more than six thousand nine hundred and ninety nine sunsets. Many more.’
I will sing this lullaby
But as Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped away from the casket, as he was embraced by Ginny and Harry, as the rain pounded down upon them even more intensely… Rose couldn’t help thinking he was wrong. The disease hadn’t caused only six thousand nine hundred and ninety nine sunsets, she thought, as the image of Severus Snape lying still on the wooden floor of the Shrieking Shack came to her.
It had caused seven thousand.
She followed Lily to the open casket and when it was her turn, leaned down and kissed James’s cheek. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, as she straightened up and touched his hand. ‘I’m so very sorry.’
She walked into the Headmaster’s office, feeling uneasy. It was warm inside, a fire burning merrily in the fireplace. The office was spick and span, as always, but strangely welcoming when it was empty. It smelled of tea and biscuits, which Rose found oddly soothing. Many of the portrait residents surrounding the Headmaster’s desk were asleep. The one she wanted to see was not.
The Headmaster had found it extremely odd that she should want to go into his office willingly. In fact, he’d had a good laugh about it for ten long minutes. Rose had let him, guessing that if he was in a better mood, he’d allow her to do what she wanted. As she’d suspected, he’d found the fact that she wanted to be in there alone surprising, but he’d agreed easily enough.
Rose hoped she knew what she was doing.
He stared down at her with the same expression - of course, this man had all the memories, so she didn’t know why she’d expected him to look at her differently now. He was sitting in his chair, as always, arms on the ornate supports. His fingers hung just off the armrest, and (though she was a little far to be sure) he seemed to be clutching the chair rather tightly.
She cleared her throat a few times, wondering how to say what she wanted to say. Really, there was only one way.
She took a breath and looked Severus Snape right in the eyes. ‘I just wanted to say “ thank you.’
There was silence even after that, but Rose had expected it. She didn’t think it would be like Snape to say “you’re welcome” or smile or anything of that sort. He gazed at her for a few moments, and she didn’t balk. Finally, he gave a short, quick nod, and then walked out of his portrait.
Rose stared at the empty frame in dismay. She wondered where he had another portrait “ she hadn’t know a second existed. ‘He’s never going to talk to me, is he?’ she asked the room, quietly.
Someone chuckled to her right and Rose turned slightly. The portrait immediately above the Headmaster’s desk was of Albus Dumbledore. He was awake and looking down at her with twinkling blue eyes. Rose had spoken to him before “ he’d seemed very eager to meet Ron and Hermione’s first child and had told her once, that he’d never thought her parents would get on with it. He’d confessed that he’d considered writing a request for them to do so in his will, but had decided against it in the end.
‘He won’t, will he?’ asked Rose, walking closer to Dumbledore.
The silver-bearded man gave her a small smile. ‘I cannot say, my dear. You are perhaps the only person who has ever seen him in a position of vulnerability “ and you love him. That isn’t something easy to forgive, at least, not for Severus.’
‘He was in love with Lily Potter, wasn’t he?’ Rose had put things together eventually. She still didn’t know the whole story though. Someday she’d corner her uncle, after everyone had recovered enough. He’d tell her.
Dumbledore acknowledged the correctness of the statement with a small nod.
Rose sighed and looked back at the empty frame. While she was still turned away, Dumbledore said, ‘Some things will never be. Yet that does not mean that your story has ended.’
Rose turned back abruptly and stared at him. ‘You were in my dream that day. I’d almost forgotten.’ His blue eyes danced merrily and Rose shook her head.
‘You are a very strange man, Professor.’ He simply beamed at her, as if she’d paid him a compliment. With a small smile of her own, Rose said goodbye to the great man and left the office. She would see Severus again, someday.
And someday, he would speak to her.
She just needed to wait.
Godric’s Hollow was shining in the bright sunlight that was spread over the town. As Rose walked along one of its many roads, a particular kissing gate in sight, she couldn’t help but smile at the brightness. In a yard a few feet away, children ran after each other, shrieking with laughter.
Godric’s Hollow had suffered greatly from the disease. It had been a small village to begin with, and only magical families resided there. As soon as one child came down with the disease, all the others quickly followed. The cure had come just in time to save two families grief. The other’s had all lost their younger generation.
As it was, the world only had so many witches and wizards. And this disease had all but wiped out the new generation. It was lucky that witches and wizards had longer lifetimes than the average human being. They may never have recovered otherwise.
Of course, people were still getting ill. Coming down with the disease. It would go on for some time “ it took a lot of effort to eradicate something so powerful. Healers had found out that the virus had jumped from owls to human beings, which was why even children who were isolated often came down with the disease. Now they had the potion though and no one else had died. No one else would die.
Rose walked through the kissing gates and paused for a moment at the statues, before moving on. She found the graves she was looking for without much difficulty.
There were three graves side-by-side. Two tombstones were rather old, the third comparatively new. Rose wondered if it was strange to find all three names so familiar “ despite having met only one of the people. James Potter “ Lily Potter “ Severus Snape.
When Rose had found out that Severus Snape had been buried next to Harry’s mother, she’d been surprised. Now, she thought it was only fitting. She wondered what he’d say if he knew. Probably ask why he was so close to James, or something equally exasperating. Rose guessed Harry’s father wouldn’t be too happy with the positioning either. Perhaps only Lily Potter would have been glad. Rose didn’t know, and guessing wasn’t good enough. Looking down at the well-maintained graves, she felt a sense of extreme loss. Three great people all snatched away from the world before their time. Did the good really die young? Or was it the unafraid, the fighters “ the ones who truly knew how to live?
Rose bent and spread the flowers she’d brought onto the earth. Red roses for James and his wife, white lilies for Severus Snape.
Lily and Rose.
Severus’s words came back to her suddenly. Another flower.
Rose smiled. She expected he’d meant it in more of a good way than a bad. After all, he’d been in love with Lily.
Rose’s eyes lingered on James’s tombstone for a while longer. Two people with the same name “ killed in their youth. One of the roses on James’s grave fluttered in the breeze as Rose sighed. She still missed James and Hugo and Scorpius every day. She had hoped that soon, their memory would become something different, something more and more insubstantial, like a shadow. It hadn’t yet. And neither had the memory of Severus Snape. She would never be able to forget the pain of their deaths. It would always be there, at the back of her mind, ever prepared to haunt her dreams.
The house was quieter now too. She was an only child, and unused to it. Whenever she slipped too deep into a book, or became too engrossed in a particularly juicy Daily Prophet article, she could forget that Hugo was no longer in the house. A shadow would pass close to her and she’d say something to her brother, without looking up, only to realize later that it was Albus or Lily or her parents.
Even going to the Potters’ was different. She’d never realized how much she’d depended on James “ on his presence. He was the eldest, the one she turned to when she needed help with something she couldn’t talk to her parents about. Lily and Albus had always had an elder brother to help them out. James was the voice of experience. He’d done everything first, and they’d never really grown out of the habit of going to him and asking him to resolve their arguments about various things “ these days, which job should you take first at the Ministry if you eventually wanted to be promoted to Hit-Wizard (or witch, as Rose liked to amend). She, Al and Lily would get into a heated discussion, only for someone to suggest they go ask James. Realizing that they couldn’t ask James anything was terrible.
Scorpius was always on Rose’s mind these days. She’d thought of him so little while Hugo and James had been ill. When everything had settled down after James’s funeral, Rose had found she couldn’t get Scorpius Malfoy off of her mind. She missed his cockiness, his ability to laugh the circumstances off. She missed the fact that he would have put one arm around her and made everything better. They’d never really gotten far with each other because of the disease… and Rose felt that, maybe, it was because of her. Another mistake she could chalk up for herself. Rose had always thought that she and Scorpius would have all the time in the world… she hadn’t wanted to stop having fun and she didn’t think Scorpius had either. Neither of them had known that he would be taken so swiftly.
And though she’d known Severus for only a short time, even his memory wouldn’t leave her. Two months later, and she still couldn’t tell herself she didn’t love him and believe it. The passion may have dimmed, but Rose had a feeling that that only made the love, the true feeling, even stronger.
There were days she wished it would go away completely and she would forget Hugo and James and Scorpius and Severus. She wished their memories would simply drift away with their souls. She wished she could just wave her wand and get used to the feeling of their absence. She wished that the emotions that welled up whenever she thought of them would simply cease to exist.
Rose looked up and spotted a dark-haired boy standing at the iron fence surrounding graveyard. He was peering through the bars at her and smiled when he caught her eye.
Of course, none of it would ever stop.
But, she thought, as she smiled and waved at the boy, and then turned back the way she had come…
That didn’t mean that she had to stop living.
After all, her story had hardly begun.