The Redemption of Severus Snape

Part 38

Lindsay rose early Sunday morning, as was her habit, but didn't go for a jog. Instead she chose to visit her family's gravesites. She always spent extra time tending their graves and talking to them at the Christmas holidays. She bought red roses to lay on her father's and brother's graves, and pink roses for her mother's and sister's graves. It was a crisp sunny morning. The air smelled fresh and clean. The old churchyard was well tended and felt settled and serene. Adam had Lindsay's family buried here alongside several generations of his own family. Adam's grave was only two rows away, next to his own parents.

An elderly monk named Brother Timothy was mending a stone wall when Lindsay arrived. He was a thin man of small stature with shockingly blue eyes and tufty white hair sticking out from under his wooly hat. The aura around him was as serene as the ancient churchyard.

"Good morning, Brother Timothy."

"And a fine good morning to you, Lin," replied Brother Timothy. He set down his tools and turned to accept the friendly hug that Lindsay always offered. He offered his arm, which she took, and guided her to an old bench nearby to her family's plots. A thermos of coffee sat waiting for them. "I see that you haven't forgotten the roses." He offered Lindsay a sip from his thermos.

"Oh, my!" said Lindsay, grimacing. "I don't know how you can drink such strong coffee."

"It takes years of discipline to build up such a tolerance," Brother Timothy as he took back his thermos and proceeded to remove his gloves.

"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak," replied Lindsay.

Brother Timothy poured himself a cup of black coffee and sat back on the hard cold bench holding the hot cup between his chilled fingers. "Will you be at Midnight Mass this year?"

"You ask me that every year."

"I'm an optimist," said Timothy. "I keep hoping for a different answer. Your family were church goers, weren't they?"

"Yes, I was raised Methodist, but my parents were more non-denominational in practice. They'd happily attend services in any place of worship."

"And yet you persistently avoid houses of worship," said Timothy.

"Attending church services was something we did as a family. It's one of those things a person doesn't think about. You just do it. Then when everyone's gone...well it's...it's just..." Lindsay pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket and dabbed her eyes.

"It brings back too many memories. I understand," said Timothy. "But you may find that attending services brings you comfort."

"Maybe, but I don't think I'm ready just yet."

"Fair enough," said Timothy. He drained his cup and set it back on the thermos. "If you'll excuse me, I must get back to mending the wall."

"I know an excellent stone mason. I'll be seeing him tomorrow. I could ask him to come by and give an estimate."

"That's very kind, Lin, but I'm afraid the church's coffers are somewhat lacking."

"I mean it as a donation—an anonymous donation."

"Now how would a young thing like you afford that?" Brother Timothy stopped himself. "Forgive me, Lin. I blurted that."

Lindsay laughed. "It's okay; I don't mind. I have a very large inheritance. My grandfather was a wizard with finances. He's the sole reason my family became wealthy. Every generation before him had modest incomes. Everyone called him 'Big Red'. He and I were very close."

"You take after him then?"

"I do. I even dabble in the stock market with minor success, but I don't have Big Red's genius for it. So you'll accept the offer?"