Vanished from all existence. It was tough, extremely tough. Passing angels, angels that seemed to belong to Lucifer himself. It didn't seem possible, plausible. Minerva McGonagall bit her lower lip, fighting tears. She would not let them fall while she was here, not here. Passing all the tombstones, even though they were filled with well wishes, they seemed empty, soulless.

Her one companion was gone; it was so hard to come to grips with it. She thought she would see him as she entered the great hall, but his seat was vacant. At this, Minerva was forced to leave, going back to her room and letting tears fall silently as she leaned against the closed door. She couldn't have faced her students, or his for that matter. She thought that noise on her door in the middle of the night was him but as soon as she opened it, she was greeted with bitter whispers as they staggered down the corridor like tumbleweeds.

Yet, she was Minerva McGonagall and she had to find the strength to go on. She had to say goodbye, even if she didn't want to. It seemed this was the only way to kill off the thoughts of desperation that plagued her mind constantly anymore, nagging until she broke down, sometimes in visible sight.

Her pace slowed as she came closer to the grave shudders ricocheting up and down her spine. She breathed deeply, air filling her lungs, the releasing as steam issuing from her slightly parted mouth. She lidded her eyes, her eyelids fluttering violently in thought.

Come on Minerva, you can do this…

She breathed in deeply once more and opened her eyes. She was there… yet it seemed he wasn't. Minerva's knees gave out at the sight of the letters on the gravestone. Her thick traveling cloak billowed around her then settled on the ground, the smell of fresh dirt reaching her nose. A hand rose to her lips, as she leaned closer to the granite, which seemed dull in the moonlight. Her other hand gradually danced across the frozen rock, her index finger tracing the wording of the name.

Severus Snape

Trusted, Companion, Hope For All

Minerva's lower lip trembled and she let out a small squeak, her vocal cords unable to produce any other sound. Her hands then darted to her face, covering her eyes; she had long since removed the glasses since she took them off so frequently now. She sniffed, peaking through a crack in her fingers.

No. I will not, not now.

Minerva nodded reassuringly, pulling out her wand and curiously enough a small dagger, the hilt encased in rubies and emeralds. She stabbed her wand into the ground, then picked up the dagger, her hand shaking as she did so. She steadied herself and sharply cut the skin squarely down the middle of her left hand. She winced but reminded herself this was nothing compared to what Severus had been forced to endure. She gripped the wand in the ground, crimson began to melt down the length of the wood.

"Il dort. Quoique le sort fût pour lui bien étrange, Il vivait. Il mourut quan il n'eut plus son ange."

Minerva closed her eyes as she spoke the words, the words that made so much sense to her. She then gripped her wand harder and spoke the next words surely.

" Reincarnatius Spiritia."

At first it seemed the spell hadn't worked and all time stood still, not even the former noises of nature heard by Minerva were heeded. Then the wand glowed, Minerva pulling her slashed hand away, looking at it with exasperation as a thin line was left upon her palm. Minerva gasped as a translucent silhouette came forth from the ground. She backed away on her knees, dirt trailing her hands as she crawled backwards.

"…Severus?" Minerva let out in a low whisper, hoping her wishes wouldn't be defeated so quickly.

The pale forms eyes opened, then an all to familiar smirk.


Severus let out in deepest respect, the smirk still visible on his features. He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, in his very well known stance.

"I had suspected you would do this… just… not so…"

Severus seemed to struggle with the words,

"… soon?"

This time it was Minerva who finished the sentence. She looked up to Severus, finally being able to take all his cynicism that he would undoubtedly sling at her. Severus slouched, his hands coming to rest be his sides. He looked away from Minerva's burning gaze.

"Yes, I suppose it's something like that…"


"The spell only works once… I read into it."

Severus laughed.

"Why weren't you a Ravenclaw?"

Minerva knelt up on her knees, danger lingering in her fixed stare.

"I am a Gryffindor Severus, I always have been and I always will be! Whether or not you like it."

Severus narrowed his vision,

"Whether or not I did like it."

Minerva furrowed her eyebrows.

"I'm sorry Severus… I didn't… not like that…"

Severus nodded,

"I know."

More silence.

"So how's the school doing without the dear greasy, slimy, git of a Potions Master?"

"Severus, you shouldn't talk like that. You would be surprised by how many students are mourning… your… mishap."

Severus snorted,

"Oh I highly doubt that."

Minerva sighed deeply, wishing Severus could see what she saw daily.

"Everyone misses you… even Potter… but there is one person whose life has been shattered by your demise…"

"Really? Just who might that be?" Severus said rather unbelieving and in his normal drone.

Minerva went quiet, an owl flying overhead.

"… Me."

Severus' eyes deepened with emotion.

"Oh Minerva. You can't seriously mean that."

Minerva crunched up in a ball, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Of course I do Severus. You were everything to me… I haven't eaten in days. I can't do it. Everything seems dimmer now that you're gone."

Minerva began to shake once more with sobs. This only made her crunch up into a smaller ball.

"Minerva… Minerva… Minerva look at me."

Minerva brushed away the liquid from her face, sitting up, her knees still crunched to her torso.

"What?" she said in a rather hurt voice.

Severus floated over, stopping in front of Minerva.

"You have to go on… you have to. So many other people are depending on you."

He brushed his hand across her cheek,

"They need you and that's what important. You need to go on, for their sake."

Severus then hugged her, Minerva bursting into a fit of tears. Severus backed off, rather abashed.

"I can't even feel your touch anymore…"

She looked up to him, moonlight glinting of her face, the tears reflecting her bloodshot eyes.

"No one can teach me to live on without you. Can't you help me to say goodbye? Lately it feels like my heart is blackened by a foreboding ghost, a ghost of the past, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Can't you help me to mend my broken heart or was I always just something for your amusement? A toy attached to strings, so that I could dance for your delight? Words are meaningless, enigmas of a pitiful individual…"

Minerva trailed off. Severus sighed deeply.

"If that's the way you want it then…"

Severus looked down to the dirt a look of absolutely loathing in his eyes.

"That spell only works one time… right?"

Minerva's lower lip trembled and she nodded silently. Severus sighed and looked away.

"… Severus?"

Severus looked up.

"Yes Minerva?"

"Can I ask you… for one last thing? One last thing to give me strength?"

"What might that be?"

"A kiss?"

"Minerva… I'd be honored to."

Severus floated over and placed his hands on Minerva. As if his touch had seemed to break the curse of woe, Minerva let go of her knees. Severus bent forward and kissed her, Minerva's lower body shaking from dry sobs as he did so. Severus pulled away, looking down at her with what could only be love.

"Thank you Severus…"

Severus nodded.

"You're very welcome Minerva…"

"Thank you for helping me to say goodbye, teaching me to live, or at least the strength to try…"

As Minerva spoke the last words and looked up, Severus was gone. Minerva sighed and crawled over to her wand, looking once more at the gravestone.

The night was starless and very dark. Without any doubt, in the gloom, some mighty angel was standing, with outstretched wings, waiting for a soul.

As dawn broke twilight, the graveyard was empty. All that was left of the small encounter was left next to the one thing reminding the world of Severus Snape's life.

A small dagger pointed upwards from the ground, the hilt encased in emerald and scarlet, pointing to small wording in a very similar handwriting on the headstone:

No more tears.


Authors Note: Grief is tough. It always has been, it always will be. On Saturday the 26th, my great-grandmother, Great Gram as I fondly called her, passed away. It hurts, it still does, and it probably always will. I know some of my friends are also currently going through one of the most painful emotions a person can ever feel right now. Just remember, life can, and will go on. It's the way the people we loved would've wanted it. It's tough, it hurts, you just want them back and yet… you can't.

This fic is dedicated to all loved ones ever lost, whether it is friends or family. Most of all this fic is dedicated to Great Gram; I only wish the streets of heaven could be paved with gold for people like you.


By: Darkened-Roses