This was enough to convince her that Severus Snape, her husband, was truly dead. Something about the dry, formal tone, the mechanical dispensing of his belongings. A perfunctory expression of sympathy. There was a long list of what had belonged to him, including a ridiculous collection of books that he had insured, and she was certain that was only half of his collection; his wand, any wardrobe items or potion ingredients in his possession; a very plain, unremarkable Cleansweep broomstick that she did not intend on using; and a house.