Authors note: Just a little fun, inspired by a fic I read (can't remember what its called) about Hermione writing three letters to Severus after his death; just in reverse. Hope you enjoy- Bee x
The funeral had been a sad affair, yes, but it had been all the worse for Hermione for two reasons. The first reason, most of those in attendance cared nothing for him in his life and thought of him as nothing other than the personification of evil intent, or as a bitter twisted old man out for revenge for the most minor of offences. It was only after the truth was revealed that anyone seemed to care, and then the claims began. How they had always known the truth, that it was all a charade. It filled Hermione with an anger she had not felt for such a very long time. How dare they, how very dare they?
The second reason the funeral had been difficult for Hermione was due to the letters. After the funeral service she had been standing, by herself, staring out at the lake. Like Albus Dumbledore's funeral service, Severus Snape's had been conducted at Hogwarts. Hermione had wondered why for a few moments until Harry had told her. It was the same reason that he had desired so greatly to stay at Hogwarts during all the holidays, summer included (although that was not possible), Hogwarts was the only real home Severus Snape had ever known. As the other attendees had mingled and spoken to the various others at the service, Hermione had discreetly slipped away to organise her thoughts. She may have the status of a war hero, but it was not really all that important. She had not been a spy for the Light, nor had she been Harry Potter or even Ronald Weasley. She was nothing, especially if she couldn't even do something so simple as to save a brave man who had been willing to give everything he had and everything he was for love, and for justice and honour.
Hermione had been standing, looking out across the lake, trying to avoid the tears that threatened to spill over. She had failed, and a man had lost his life for it. He did not like her, but that did not matter. Hermione Granger hated failing, and she had failed. More to the point though, she had failed to save a life worth saving. Her heart had told her, as she had watched him die, that his life had been worth saving, that there was more to all this seemed. Yet she had not listened, she had indulged her worthless mind, and he had died because of it. The guilt for that, it would weigh on her conscience forever. No matter how many times people told her it was not her fault, she knew it was.
"Hermione?" A voice had called to her, forecefully propelling Hermione from her thoughts. She had turned, and been surprised to find Minerva Mcgonogal standing behind her.
"What can I do for you Professor?" Hermione asked politely, hoping that the elder Scottish woman had not been standing calling for her and Hermione had ignored her
"Please, dear, call me Minerva. I volunteered to clean out Spinners End, and Severus' apartments in the castle. I was organizing his belongings when I found these, within a box" Minerva had reached into her robe pocket and withdrawn a stack of letters, tied together with a black satin ribbon. Minerva held the letters out to Hermione. She hesitated for a moment before taking the letters from Minerva. Hermione looked down at the letters, undeniably curious about them. On the first letter was her name printed in the spidery elegance that was the handwriting of Severus Snape. Confused Hermione lifted the corner of the first letter to see what was written on the surface of the second. Once again, it was her name. Hermione Jean Granger
"Are- Are these for me?" Hermione asked. As soon as the words left her mouth she realised exactly how ridiculous they were. Minerva did not mention the stupidity of her question, probably guessing that it was a natural reaction to shock. Minerva nodded and placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder. She squeezed before turning and walking away, leaving Hermione on her own once more.
Hermione looked down at the letters in her hand. Within her hand there was a mystery; why would Severus Snape write to her? What did these letters contain? She could not help herself, she could not leave the mystery of these letters unsolved. She would have to read them, the compulsion was so strong. Hermione brushed her fingers along the parchment and softly caressed the satin ribbon. She didn't know why but she shut her eyes and lifted the letters up so they were level with her and inhaled. The smell of the potions classroom, of the potions master, flooded her senses. These letters smelled exactly like he did. She opened her eyes again and placed the letters within her pocket. She would look at them later, she would discover what they contained later. For now though, she would just remember. Hermione would stare across the surface of the Black Lake, and she would remember a great man, a great man who she killed.