See

She crossed the field and watched him bleed.

"Was it worth it, Severus?" she asked softly. "Was it worth the pain, the tears, the death?"

"Always," he spat back, his life sliding out of him with each shallower breath. "It was always worth it."

She considered him for a moment. He was tall, and far from beautiful. Teeth, crooked from birth and stained with untold numbers of potions he had tested on himself. Nose, long and crooked like a side path in Knockturn Alley. Skin, so white it shone blue, criss-crossed with scars from painful spells and falls from broomsticks.

He stared back at her. Short and not quite skinny, a stomach that poked out just a bit too much. Hair that was a bit too brown, a bit too wild. Cheeks splashed with ink from frantic writing, over and over.

"But why?" she questioned him, kneeling at his side and brushing strands of dirt and gore-caked hair from his scratched face.

"Because," he groaned out, clutching at the gaping wound on his side, feeling blood seep through his fingers.

"Because what?" she demanded, looking into his soot-black eyes.

"Because because," he replied mockingly, a sneer crossing his ashen face.

He had the most beautiful hands she had ever seen, long and thin, speaking of years of training, dedication, and passion. He had surprisingly long lashes, which framed his black eyes.

She had the perfect smile, even before she had her teeth fixed. Warm, caring, understanding. She had dainty legs and warmth in her own dark brown eyes.

"Severus," she said again softly, and laid beside him. She put his head on her chest, hearing his heart beat slow.

"Stupid girl," he coughed, putting his hand on her head. He stroked her hair as she wept softly, her tears mingling with mud and frozen rain. "My stupid girl," he intoned, holding her, letting his wounds gush into her torn blouse.

"Please don't leave me," she whimpered, trying to stifle her sobs. "Who's going to torment me over my teeth? Look over my potions?" He laughed darkly, letting her wild mane tickle his nose. "Who's going to help me create new potions? Hold me when I sleep?"

"I don't know, Hermione," he said, kissing her arm. "I don't know, and I don't care. I'm just glad that you're here with me, now. But you have to go. There's still much to do."

"No," she murmured, pulling herself up and pulling him into her lap. "No. I will, in a bit." When you've gone.

She watched him as he closed his eyes, the first real smile he'd ever shown her growing on his face. She kissed him, once, twice, and felt his last breath fill her mouth. Hermione...I...l...

"I know," she whispered to his corpse. "I do, too."

She heard a faint rustling behind her. She turned to look, and at first, she could not see a thing. But slowly, surely, she made out a faint shape a few feet away from her, chomping on the body of Rabastan Lestrange, the man who had killed Severus.

Hermione Granger could see Threstrals, now.