(A/N) Here's my latest little story, I've worked on it for a while now and hopefully readers will enjoy it. As far as my other stories, if you follow them, I'm currently lacking inspiration for them. I may return to them eventually.

Summary: She knew it was a funeral, she knew she shouldn't be happy. But the little box in her pocket and the promise it held were simply too joyful for her to contain herself.

The Little Box

She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled. It was an odd smile, so out of place in the setting, yet she couldn't stop it. As the ministry official droned on about sacrifice and things done "for the greater good", she just couldn't stop the little joy she felt bubbling up inside her.

Her friends wouldn't have understood and, no matter how smart they were rumored to be, she couldn't make them. Here they were, commemorating the life and death of a man they all hated or admired or feared or respected or simply didn't know, and she was happy. No one else was happy as they looked at the marble obelisk that was to be a constant reminder of all he did for them, despite the small lack of closure they felt from not having a body to place near it.

She'd read the official ministry statements that while not declaring him dead, did everything but. The ministry wouldn't have ever pardoned him or declared him a hero if they thought there was a chance he could actually use that gift. In all honesty she thought they were rather amusing, why not just declare him dead and keep him from being exempt from charges if he was alive?

But she knew the answer to that: it was her. She'd fought the ministry over it, although she did it in her own way. A polite, passive statement or two about how it wouldn't really matter either way and that she was just trying to save them the hassle of declaring his death and the overworked ministry officials gave in. Not that he would ever publicly take advantage of his hero status, but it was the thought that counted.

Somewhere her mind registered the fact that the man up front was still spewing nonsense, so she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the little green and bronze box in her pocket. She'd gotten it two mornings after the battle, while they were still searching for his body.

The search party was taking a break, trying to gain a little bit of normalcy by sitting in the Great Hall with everyone else. It didn't really help them though, most people were still quite subdued by their grief and exhaustion from the battle. She sat there quietly among her friends, grieving in her own private way so that she wouldn't burden anyone else with her feelings. Oh, she knew she didn't have to, that people would listen and try to understand if she spoke, but she didn't quite feel like it.

And her grieving was quite different than anyone else who had lost a loved one. She didn't think he was actually gone even in the physical sense, although if he had been she would have still had him near in the spiritual. Sure, he was doing a grand job of hiding at the present-but he'd come back. He had to. People called that denial, she knew, but just as surely as she knew that she also knew that he wasn't dead so it didn't really count.

As she serenely nibbled on her toast, the post owls swept in. There hadn't been mail at all yesterday and the owls looked like they had far too much pent up energy but were afraid to express it. She wouldn't have minded a tad if they did, they were owls and owls were energetic.

She wasn't expecting anything in the mail so she hardly spared the owls more than a cursory glance. Secretly though, in a place of her heart hidden even from her, she hoped that he'd send word. She badly wanted confirmation that he was ok, even if it was just a line berating her for worrying like he knew she would. Anything would be so very welcome, just to help her remember that he wouldn't just abandon her like that.

Her hand hit something soft, yet hard as she reached for another piece of toast. Shaking herself out of her thoughts she looked up and saw a beautiful eagle owl; she recognized him immediately by the one eyebrow that seemed permanently arched and the ever present sneer. Some of her peers had noticed the pretty owl that was a far cry from the standard post owls, but nobody commented.

"Nero?" She whispered in shock to the owl in front of her. She had wanted him to appear, but now that he had she felt uncertain. What if someone else had sent him? How likely was it that Nero had followed his master, when even she had no idea where he would go?

The owl grew impatient and hooted loudly at her and shook his leg violently. That's when she noticed the package for the first time. After placating the creature with a bit of her breakfast, she deftly untied the box from his leg. It was a simple enough box: green velvet with bronze silk stripes and only about as big as her palm. Of course size meant nothing when enlargement charms were involved. She was terribly curious as to what it could be, but Nero brought it, so it must be from him- which meant it should be opened in private.

The beautiful owl finished his small meal just as she looked up from the package to excuse herself. As he flew off, she spoke. "Guys, I'm going to head up to my dorm. I need a bit of 'me' time". Her companions gave their consent and she hurried off, although she tried to hide her haste.

When she got back to her dorm, empty because everyone either wasn't in the castle or was in the Great Hall, she flicked her wand to shut and ward her bed curtains. Better safe than sorry, she thought. Not being able to delay any longer, she pulled the lid off the box and looked inside.

The contents of the box looked innocent enough, but she knew enough about the sender to know that the items would be damning if anyone else saw them. The first item was a tiny scroll that she unraveled to reveal his spidery handwriting.

I'm assuming you shall get this just fine; nothing could have happened to you without my knowledge. I'm obviously fine, so you can put a stop to your foolish "worrying" this instant. There will be a memorial for me- attend it. I don't want to hear a word about how you don't want to. After the ceremony, put on the necklace(in private of course). Avoid notice or suspicion.

She had put the scroll off to the side to look at the necklace in question. It was a simple affair really, a dark green leather choker with a small sapphire raven in the center. The silly little giggle that bubbled up from his sending a gift grew even as her mind registered that it was a portkey, probably to somewhere near where he was or a place that would give her some clue as to how she should find him.

What she wanted to do, and as soon as humanly possible, was to put on the necklace and race to him. She didn't though because she knew enough about his reactions to see the idea as foolish; he would lash out against her not following his directions even as he rejoiced at her presence and she didn't want their reunion to be tainted by anything. So, she would wait.

And wait she did. Most days she could even be found searching for his corpse with the others, although she had a zeal and enthusiasm about it that they couldn't understand; it made perfect and complete sense to her however. Really, it was no different than the games of hide-and-seek the neighborhood children had played with her when she was little- the more she searched, the less she'd find because there wasn't anything to find. Instead of running away, he had just gone somewhere to wait and instead of not telling her, he'd given her the perfect way to come find him. Some people didn't want to help her search, but she didn't mind because it wasn't like their presence accomplished anything anyway.

On the days they left her alone, she searched of course- but she didn't really look. Hide-and-seek is always less fun if you know where the hiders are hiding and how to seek them. She did find some delightful pink flowers on the far edge of the battlefield though; she picked some and used a preservation spell so that she could show them to him after the memorial. Or maybe it would do better to leave them at the memorial. She wasn't sure.

The search was abandoned after just a month, with the stress, exhaustion, and obligation of the final battle fading from their minds people just didn't care anymore. She knew that logically she should be sad that these people didn't care more about him, but she was just happy because this meant that she was getting ever closer to being with him again.

When she awoke the morning of the memorial, all she saw was a bright, cheerful day full of new opportunities; everyone else saw a dreary, gray sky and yet another day of mourning- only this was for someone most of them would never even think to miss. She didn't dress in black, and wouldn't have even if this had been an actual funeral or memorial- she hadn't for any of the others. Her father had always told her that people shouldn't mourn the death of an individual, but rather celebrate the fact that they lived to begin with. So she dressed as she would to go to a typically joyous occasion, like a wedding or birthday.

For the other memorials and funerals she had chosen modest, appropriate outfits in bright colors, but today she decided to do something different. After the memorial she knew that she would be going somewhere else entirely anyway, so it wasn't like there would be time for people to comment. Even if there had been, she was quite used to it and it wouldn't have bothered her in the slightest.

The dress she chose fell gently over one shoulder, exposing a bit more skin than was perhaps entirely fitting, but that fact was counter-balanced by the just-under-ankle-length cut at the bottom. The dress was made of three panes of fabric: two royal blue pieces surrounding one of emerald green. At the shoulder the dress was tied with purple ribbon cinched by a floral clasp and the design was echoed at the waist as a belt. The shoes she choose where heeled sandals the same shade of green as the middle pane of her dress and had gem designs over metal links connecting the ankle strap and the toe of the shoe. To top off her outfit she placed a green and blue blended elf scarf around her neck, wore little silver snake studs in her ears and carried a purple satin clutch that had been internally enlarged to hold all of her belongings she wished to bring along. The little box went into a pocket she had added to the dress and then concealed.

One of her housemates knocked on the door to her room and told her everyone was leaving the castle for the memorial so, after a quick check to ensure she had all her effects, she hurried to join the throng. Unlike the steady, solemn procession of students and community members alike she skipped merrily up to a group of her friends and greeted them enthusiastically. They looked at her oddly and were too shocked and off-center to respond.

When the reached the row of chairs, the mourners-who-only-slightly-mourned were escorted to their seats based on their title. The ushers were odd looking little Ministry officials and were rather rude. Unlike the students who faced the wrath of their professors for any rude comments, community members were not so bound. A few times she had to reign in the impulse to hex the uppity little buggers, and it was easier not to when she remembered where she would be going after all of this was completed.

"I would like to offer this time for any of you present to speak on the behalf of a great, deceased hero. Thank you for being a wonderful group today." The end of the official's speech snapped her out of her contemplation and she looked around blankly for a moment. No one spoke when given the opportunity- not one of them. Not the students whose life he saved quite directly, not the various adults whose families he spared, not even his compatriots from the battle. No one.

So she took the only logical course of action: she stood. She knew he'd certainly be displeased, but she didn't have to tell him now did she? Some members of the crowd gasped when she stood, but most just looked uncertain as to what she could possibly have to say. In a serene voice she informed the gathering, "None of you seem to want to admit the honor and bravery associated with his past actions- and that's just fine. But know that without him you wouldn't have the choice of earthly-conscious silence." She sat down amidst horrified looks from the crowd, a crowd that wanted to deny the war had even happened let alone the actions of someone during it. But she didn't see that. She returned to staring calmly off into space as the ceremony was concluded.

As she was placing half of the flowers on the obelisk afterwards, a good compromise in her eyes, a tall vaguely familiar man approached her. "Little one," the man began in heavily accented English, "it is good to finally have a face to go with a name. I've heard much about you. Tell him that Karkaroff sends greeting and wishes he would write more often."

"How do you know who I am or that I even know who this 'he' is?" She asked, not wanting to risk giving anything away.

"Standing to speak today took courage, as does your secret friendship," Karkaroff informed her before promptly turning and striding away. She smiled a much wider and entirely genuine grin as he did; it was nice to know that someone else felt some of the same feelings she did. She lay the pink flowers gently on top of the stone and made her way back up to the castle with the final few stragglers.

When she stepped through the entryway doors she was confronted by a wall of bodies crushing in every direction. Spotting a group near the door she knew, she walked towards them and made idle chatter for a few minutes. She felt it was probably a good idea so that at least people knew she made it back to the castle. Today was the final memorial service, and many students were leaving to spend a the final few weeks before term with their families-which fit her plan quite well.

After putting in her appearance, she excused herself from the group with the excuse of needing to speak with different people before leaving, and dashed as quickly as she could towards the nearest bathroom.

Once in the bathroom she once again checked her clutch for her belongings and untied the scarf so that it hung open and loose about her shoulders. With one hand she fished the box from its little hiding spot and opened it to remove the necklace. She dropped the box into her clutch and turned to face the mirror. She took one end of the necklace in each hand and poised it just in front of the column of her neck. For a moment, she just stood there and took stock of her appearance. She certainly felt she looked different today, but perhaps it was just her anticipation.

She lay the cool leather against her skin and gently fastened the catch behind her. As the clasp fastened, before she had even had time to remove her hands, she felt the sudden tug of the portkey activating and she was gone in an instant.

The fifth year Hufflepuff entering the bathroom thought she saw someone leave, but chalked it up to a stressful day and didn't pursue the matter.

Her landing was a little less than graceful, and she was beyond thrilled that no one was there to witness it. She looked around and saw a reasonably sized meadow surrounded by forest on each side, with the exception of small foot paths in the side she was facing and the side to her left. To her right she noticed a beautiful pond lined on most of it's bank with brilliantly blooming flowers. But what she saw behind her was the sight that took her breath away the fastest.

No, it wasn't the pleasant cottage with a welcoming air and well kept exterior. Nor was it the many gardens in all their splendor. No, it was the tall dark haired man striding down the walkway in a cleanly pressed white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and black trousers covering the tops of black boots also sporting a brilliant grin that sparkled in the black depths of his eyes and warmed her heart until she thought it may burst, but surely would have caused many if not all of her peers to swoon from fright. He was normally such a dour man, but not with her- never with her.

When he had covered about half the distance between the, she was finally able to convince her legs to move and ran as quickly as her heels would allow towards him. She threw herself into his welcoming arms as tears sprung into her eyes from the happiness of seeing him, even though logically she knew she would.

He gently tipped her face up towards his own so that he could lay a kiss upon her brow. "My angel, my love, my Luna. I- I didn't think you would come." He said the last with a shift of his eyes from hers to keep her from directly seeing the pain still lingering there.

She lay a hand on the cheek turned from her, not the return him to face her but just to remind him that she would not let him turn from her entirely. "And why wouldn't I come, Severus? Did you expect me to leave you here all alone? Good heavens! I couldn't do that! Do you have wrackspurts in your brain?" She asked her last question in a completely calm tone, but when Severus turned his head to look at her she simply winked.

His booming laughter could be heard throughout the forest.

According to the HP-Lexicon a wrackspurt is an "invisible thing that floats in though a victim's ears and makes his or her brain go fuzzy". Thank you for reading, and I do hope you review.