Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. I wish I did. You know the drill.

Author's Note: This story was written in honour of Remembrance Day. Remember those who died in wars to save our lives. Always remember.

EDIT 8/21/2007: I realize that I published this story nearly two years ago, but I decided to edit this story and fix my mistakes.

Not Forgotten

To Forget or Not to Forget

You stare at the grave in the cemetery before you. You feel a tear run down your cheek. You ignore it. It has been seven months, exactly seven months, since that fateful night. While it has been such a long time, you remember it like yesterday.

"Had all those days, all those wonderful days, meant nothing to him?" you wonder. You highly doubt it.

You remember the war. The war between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort: your best friend, his worst enemy. You remember Lord Voldemort casting a spell at you: Avada Kedavra.

You were too stunned to move. Severus Snape, however, was not. The awful flash of green is all to vivid to you. You see Severus, your love, crashing down in front of you. Saving you.

"Severus," you weep, "why? Why did you save me?"

You hear the wind as if a response. Your heart beats loudly. You really, truly loved him, you realize. You don't want to. A loud, anguished sob escapes from your mouth.

You remember your first year at Hogwarts. Severus had looked at you with an evil stare. He had looked so ugly. You don't think of him like that anymore. His greasy hair hanging down in front of his face, his large nose, his pale complexion. Ugly. That was before.

Now, his greasy hair does not look so greasy. It looks aged. He had been through a lot, you know. It is not greasy. It is extremely soft. You remember how surprised you were.

His large nose is not as large as others say. In fact, you admired his nose. It had been broken many times before, fighting against evil. It shows he was a man who cared, though he did not show, about others over himself. Over teasing.

His pale complexion shows he was a hard worker, and takes his job seriously. The potions master he was, staying inside the dungeons, day and night, with minimal sleep, preparing potions for Dumbledore. To help kill Voldemort. To overcome evil.

You remember your second year. You stole from him. He knew, but he didn't take points. He even cared that much.

In your third year, he ran in front of you when Remus tried to attack. He did not want to be a hero. He merely wanted you to live.

In your fourth year, he said to you, when you were down most, "I see no difference." Harry and Ron never saw the apologetic look on his face. But you did. You knew he had to favour Slytherin in order to keep spying for Dumbledore. Harry and Ron never put the pieces together. You did.

In your fifth year, he did nothing to torture you, nor did he do anything to show you he cared. Your best friends simply saw him as the man who wanted to make their lives miserable. You saw him as the man who took an opportunity to change, act normal, at a time he could.

During your sixth year, he killed your beloved Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Then you knew for sure. You saw the pensieve memory that Harry showed you. There was a small flicker of terror in his eyes as he shot the deadly curse at Dumbledore's chest. You knew he was told to. To save himself. To kill Dumbledore. You knew for sure. Of course, you never told anyone.

Finally, your seventh year. You saw Severus during the summer, and actually had a civil conversation. You kissed him for the first time. Severus told you he finally had someone to confide in, someone who would keep his secret. You felt proud. You felt loved.

He taught you how to be a Legilimens. You could read his mind, and he could read yours. He told you it would help you during the war. It did.

Then, before Lord Voldemort shot the killing curse at you and Severus jumped in front, you could hear Severus' thoughts. Hermione, I love you. Remember that. Remember what I told you to do. Do not forget me. Then he died. Harry, Ron, and many others thought he just wanted to be the hero. You will never tell them the truth.

You miss him more than you realize.

He made you realize that life is too precious to be wasted. He went through a lot, just like you have. He took his job seriously, just like you have. He fought evil, just like you have. Though he died young, he had a full life. He experienced hardships, heartaches, triumphs, and love.

Love. He experienced love. Just like you have.

You have not been through as much as Severus has been through. You are younger than he. You have experienced hardships, heartaches, triumphs, and love, too, but you have a life to live. You are no child, but you are barely an adult. Severus was an adult since he was a young boy.

Confusing? Not when you think about it.

You put one hand on your stomach and sigh. She is your child now. Without a father. Just your child. It will be hard raising a child, explaining everything you and your Severus have been through.

Maybe you don't have to tell her.

You stare back down at the grave. "Severus, I will love you forever. I will never forget what you have done to me. But right now, I don't know what to do. I'm nineteen-years-old, Severus! I'm also pregnant with your child. I'm sorry I never told you. I don't know what to tell her when she is born. I will preserve my memories of you, like you suggested before, telling me what to do if you died. I will get Professor McGonagall to cast a small 'obliviate' on me. Someday I will look back on those memories, but not now. Just like you told me."

You let out a small sigh. "I better go now, Severus. I love you. Don't forget me."

You turn around and realize you cannot do this. You cannot lose the memories of the one you loved most, no matter what Severus told you. But you always obeyed him! But how can you do it without losing your memory of him? It doesn't make sense. You decided, once again, to follow Severus' orders. For Severus.

You walk out of the cemetery and close the gate. You look at the grave one final time.

You begin to walk home.