Aside from a few extra reports in The Times about "gas leaks" and "car accidents," the deaths of the Evans couple and the others seemed to make no ripple at all in the Muggle world.
On the day of the funeral, Cokeworth Cemetery lay under a sky of dull, leaden gray. The damp air was thick with the scent of soil.
Snape's gaze passed over row after row of dark, weathered tombstones until it rested on the two new oak coffins at the front.
In the first row, Lily and Petunia stood a short distance apart, not too far, but far enough.
Lily's small shoulders looked especially fragile under the black mourning dress. Her red hair had lost its usual flame-like luster and clung limply to her pale cheeks.
"It's really tragic," a man's voice suddenly said beside Snape. "They were still so young."
Snape turned his head and saw a burly young man with hardly any neck, his tight suit straining against his thick frame.
"Hello," the man said. "My name's Vernon Dursley, Petunia's colleague and fiancé."
"Hello," Snape replied briefly, shaking Vernon's large, meaty hand. "Severus Snape. A friend of Lily's."
"What do you do for work?" Vernon asked, puffing his chest out slightly, eyes sweeping Snape up and down. His tone carried a faint note of self-satisfaction. "I'm in the drilling business, at Grunnings in London. Junior executive."
He made sure to emphasize the word executive.
"Uh..." Snape's mouth twitched slightly. So you really are the same Uncle Vernon we all know, he thought. He said lazily, "I don't work. My family's money just... never runs out."
Vernon's face stiffened awkwardly.
The crowd began to move, drawing closer to the open graves.
"Let's talk later," Vernon said, pushing forward. His broad frame parted the mourners like a plow through tall grass.
Snape's gaze returned to Petunia. Her transformation was so striking he barely recognized her. The girl he remembered was gone, replaced by a woman in a perfectly tailored black dress, her blonde hair neatly coiled at the back of her head, her expression a tense mix of grief and anger.
When her eyes passed over Snape, a flash of unmistakable disgust flickered there.
The priest began his prayer. Snape saw Lily's shoulders start to tremble, but she stubbornly refused to make a sound.
When the last handful of earth fell onto the coffins, the crowd began to disperse. Snape noticed several oddly dressed figures standing at the edge of the graveyard, pretending to adjust their ties or handbags. One of them caught Snape's eye and gave a small nod, a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
At last, Snape and Eileen had the chance to approach Lily, but Lily turned away and went toward Petunia and Vernon instead.
"I'm so sorry, Petunia, I'm so sorry! Please, listen to me-" Lily seized her sister's hand tightly, but Petunia struggled to pull free.
"Lily," Petunia's voice was cold and clear as she wrenched her hand back, "it's ridiculous. A gas explosion, really. Thank goodness someone finally told me the truth, you freaks have brought nothing but misfortune to this family. Mother adored you so much."
She finally tore her hand free. Lily's eyes filled with tears.
Vernon looked on in confusion, clearly not understanding what they were talking about.
"What truth?" he asked, stammering slightly as he turned to Petunia.
Petunia fell silent. Her gaze flicked between Snape and Lily before finally settling on Vernon.
"Vernon... it's nothing... we'll talk later, all right?" she said softly, in a tone Snape had never heard from her before.
Then she turned to Lily, her voice once again icy. "I'm going back to London."
Lily lifted her head. Her green eyes shimmered with tears. "Petunia, you can't just leave... we need-"
"No," Petunia cut her off. "You need. I already have my own life. These... memories, you can keep them."
Snape saw Lily's face go white as chalk.
"You mean... you're not coming back?" she whispered.
"That's right." Sadness flickered across Petunia's features. "This place..." She looked around, at the gravestones, the damp grass, and finally back at Lily. "There's nothing here for me anymore."
"Petunia," Lily's voice trembled with pain, "Mum and Dad loved you, Petunia. They always hoped that we could-"
"Could what?" Petunia snapped. "Pretend none of this ever happened? After what you've become... after everything?" Her gaze at Lily was filled with loathing. "Look at what your choices have done to this family, Lily. This is all because of you."
Vernon cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. "Darling, shall we?"
Petunia nodded and turned away without another word. Snape noticed a glimmer of tears in her eyes as she turned, but she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand.
Lily reached out, trying to catch her sister's arm, but Petunia was already walking off. Her hand froze midair, then dropped limply to her side.
Her body swayed. Snape instinctively stepped forward to steady her. Lily buried her face in his shoulder and wept silently.
He could feel her tears soaking through his suit, warm and damp.
"I hate myself..." Lily murmured, her voice breaking from sobs.
Snape gently patted her back.
"It's not your fault," he whispered.
After the funeral, they returned to Godric's Hollow. Lily grew quieter by the day, often sitting alone in the garden, staring blankly into the distance.
It wasn't until Charlie came wobbling over on his toy broomstick to deliver a message that Snape and Eileen remembered they had promised the Weasley family a summer trip to Albania.
"Come with us, Lily," Eileen said, helping Charlie down from his broom. "It'll do you good to get away for a while. You've been by yourself far too much lately."
Lily thought for a moment, then forced a faint smile and nodded.
Eileen quickly began packing, stuffing everything into Snape's small enchanted wallet, the one with the Extension Charm.
"So convenient," she said. "Did you make this yourself? I've never been able to get that spell right. Why don't you make a few more?"
"Cough, well," Snape began, struggling to explain. He'd never succeeded in casting it, every attempt had failed. "Casting an Extension Charm on something that small is... difficult. Can't be done quickly."
"Really?" Eileen examined the wallet's texture carefully, frowning slightly. "With your craftsmanship, that seems unlikely."
"Let's go," Snape said hastily, tugging Charlie forward. "Mrs. Weasley and the others are waiting."
Together, they crossed the yard toward the Burrow.
The noon sun blazed down on the hillside, baking the earth and sending waves of heat shimmering through the air. Now and then, a dry wind swept past, rustling the brittle grass.