When the blood finished pouring over the frozen cemetery in a muggle town that produced two of the most important beings in magical history, the survivors of the Second Wizarding War gathered in Godric's Hallow to take stock of their lives.
Bill Weasley swept his wife off her feet joyfully, no longer afraid that her Veela inheritance would cost her her life. Fleur smiled through her tears, relief of seeing the end of Lord Voldemort mixed with grief over the loss of the young man that once so charmed her during the Triwizard Tournament.
Susan Bones was wrapped in Charlie Weasley's side while she clung desperately to Luna Lovegood's hand. The end of the war cost the two young women their closest friend and any triumph for victory was hidden beneath many layers of complex grief.
Molly Weasley held Hermione Rose Nott in her arms while she gently guided Narcissa Malfoy and her husband to sit on a sofa that had been conjured for them. Lucius had been the one to leave their son alone in the castle, just long enough to understand why his mark had burned and then faded to a scarred silver color.
Ron Weasley sat with Blaise Zabini and Neville Longbottom. The three usually rowdy young men were struck silent by the momentous occasion. They had all been confident that their side would emerge victorious, but none of them had considered the heavy costs.
Remus Lupin held back tears as he moved around in the kitchen that once had been as familiar to him as his own. He and Mavis had elected to prepare tea and hot chocolate for the others, though Remus found himself wishing for a large bottle of whiskey instead. Mavis continued to let out soft wails of agony as his wrinkled hands clutched at his chest beneath the robe that his friend gave him. Remus could offer the poor elf no words of sympathy as they were all in pain.
Nymphadora Tonks sat across from her aunt with Harry's box of belongings on her lap. Harry had asked Nymphadora to hand out his belongings and Nymphadora would do it… as soon as her body functioned again. They had done it- they killed Voldemort. It was Nymphadora herself who dealt the final death blow, but it had been meaningless when she believed Severus had been dead.
Upstairs, in the smallest bedroom of the cottage, Sirius Black sobbed unabashedly as he held the body of his godson. It would never make sense to any who had never loved a child, but Sirius would have given up the entire world if it meant he could just keep his godson. They didn't have long enough together… the time they had together was a mere blip on the long life they should have both had.
Theodore Nott watched from the wooden chair he created beside the bed where Harry's body laid. The others were sobbing, heart-wrenching sobs that shook their bodies and dripped snot and tears down their faces. Theo remained stony faced while he kept a vigilant watch on his brother's body. He couldn't cry - he wouldn't - not then.
Severus Snape stood behind Sirius Black and had one hand on the other man's shoulder. All past feuds had died when Harry did, they were two men living in the same hell then. Severus had no occlumency barriers or tasks to distract himself any longer. All he could feel was a fractured pain in his chest that poured his soul out through tears that dripped down his face.
Fred Potter stood in the doorway and held on to the frame to keep himself upright. His legs were weak, shaken from the blast during the fight, and his heart slugged along slowly, wishing it could stop altogether and send him to wherever his husband was.
The only thing that the survivors shared was a sense of bittersweetness.
Survivor was such a peculiar word… It was defined as a person who survived, especially a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died. Technically, all their hearts beat and air flowed through their lungs, but none of them felt alive.
Harry had been the force that brought them all together and without his watchful eyes and his cheeky comments, who could say they were truly living?
When Sirius fell silent and Fred had watched him as long as he could, Fred made his way back downstairs in an attempt to find something to tell him it was all a trick. It was just a prank, a cruel and hateful prank that Harry pulled… Harry didn't really understand pranks, Fred had once had to explain them to him. That's all it was.
A really, really, bad prank.
Bill waited for Fred at the bottom of the stairs and he opened his arms for Fred to fall in. Bill had always been there… he was Fred's oldest brother and would never lie to him.
"It's a prank?" Fred whispered in the tobacco scent of his brother's jacket.
Bill held Fred as easily as he had when Fred was a toddler and needed snuggled after a bad dream. There was nothing between the two of them except for a lifetime of love and Fred was afraid of what truth Bill would tell him.
"I'm so sorry, Fred," Bill said. "I'm so God damned sorry."
Fred had cried all his tears away, he was as empty on the inside as Harry himself was. He simply stood there and let his brother hold him until he felt strong enough to face the others.
Tonks was the first one on her feet and Fred braced himself for another hug from the wrong person. Fred liked Tonks, Fred thought she was brilliant and a right laugh at times. But watching Tonks imitate Harry had been nearly as painful as Harry dying had been.
"Come sit," Tonks said after hugging Fred tightly. She didn't seem to be flying high after killing Timmy, not like Harry would have been. There was a deep sadness in Tonks' eyes that was made visual by her flat and colorless hair.
Fred didn't say anything, he just nodded and let Tonks and Bill guide him to a living room. There were too many people in the living room, someone had certainly crammed as many pieces of mismatched furniture in there as possible. Fred was guided to a love seat and tried to smile gratefully when Bill sat down beside him.
Mum pressed a cup of something warm in Fred's hand and Bill poured something clear from a flask in the cup.
"Just to take the edge off," Bill murmured to him. "Drink up."
Fred took a sip of what turned out to be spiked hot chocolate while he looked around the room. Susan was curled up in Charlie's side on a sofa they shared with Ron and Neville. Luna was sitting on the floor in front of Narcissa, her head was tilted to lay on Narcissa's knee and Narcissa stroked her hair while they both gazed forward unseeingly.
Blaise was seated on the floor and he shared a miserable look with Fred when Fred looked at him. It didn't matter that Blaise had been in love with Harry, who cared?
Harry had chosen Fred. Harry had been in love with Fred. And Harry left them both behind, heartbroken and hurting.
Mum fretted around the room with Fred's goddaughter on her hip while she and Remus passed out drinks to everyone. Fred could smell something cooking in the kitchen, evidence of Mavis' presence within the cottage.
Tonks appeared in the doorway and had a stack of envelopes in her hands. She cleared her throat and the small noise caught everyone's attention immediately.
"I have something for you all," Tonks said. "If you want to be alone to read it, that's fine."
Fred didn't understand the pained sound that ripped itself free of Susan's mouth until Tonks handed Fred the first envelope and he recognized the scribbled and messy handwriting on the front.
Fred's hand shook when he hurriedly passed his drink to Bill. He was careful when he opened the envelope though… he couldn't risk ripping whatever was inside of it.
Fred,
I never thought about 'love' when I was a kid. How could I? All I worried about was eating, sleeping, and not getting beat up by the drugged out blokes outside the shelters. When you asked me out, I was sick and impulsive when I said yes. I felt bad later, when I wasn't flying. It felt like I tricked you, somehow.
Remember at the end of my third year? When I went to the hospital? I didn't understand why you showed up, except you're a bit mad and Sue called you a stalker, but I didn't question you because I liked having you around.
You made a lot of shitty days better. I don't want to sound like a fucking poetry book, but it sort of felt like you were the summer after living so long in winter. Don't read that. No, read it. Just don't laugh.I'm sorry I left you behind, Fred. I'm sorry that I let you marry me just to leave you behind before we even got to have an anniversary.
I'm not sorry that we were married though. I'm not sorry that some sickness in my brain made me say yes when you asked me out all those years ago. I'm also not sorry that I kicked your arse in those duels.
I left you my pensieve and all my gold. There's a case of vials I left for you too; it's all my memories of the things we shared. I even included that day I took Felix Felicis and you wouldn't have sex with me until I sobered up.
I hope you open your shop back up. I hope you laugh again. I hope you don't marry Verity because I fucking hate her.
But I love you as much as I've ever loved anyone.
Don't forget me.
All my love,
Your husband,
Harry.
Fred thought he had cried the last of his tears, but he also thought that he'd spend the rest of his life with Harry.
It seemed like Fred was wrong twice.
*****
Remus sat down on the floor in the doorway of the kitchen and wished Sirius was with him to face whatever letter Harry left for him.
Remus and Harry didn't have the familial relationship that Harry had with Sirius. But Remus had loved Harry almost as much as Sirius did. It was different for Remus, Remus got to know Harry in a psychological way as he had spent years subtly diving in Harry's mind and getting to know him.
They could have had another twenty years with Harry and Remus doubted if he'd ever truly understand what was undoubtedly a one-of-a-kind mind.
Remus took a deep breath and then read Harry's last words to him in the last home that James and Lily had shared…
Lupin Remus,
I didn't like you. Sometimes, I still don't.
Remus' eyebrows rose on his forehead. He shouldn't have been surprised that those were the opening lines to Harry's letter, but it still caught him off-guard.
You're not a bad bloke though, I guess. If someone got me fired, I wouldn't pretend to be their friend to help them put their broken pieces back together. I know I had a lot of pieces and most of them were jagged and sharp on the edges, but you never acted too scared to pick them up. I guess that's why you were in Gryffindor, you're braver than you are smart.
Remus let out a huff of a laugh despite himself. Harry left Remus a letter to insult him multiple times once again.
Even if we weren't really mates, I do think you're an alright person. You're even better as a wolf though and the other wolfs seem to like you a lot.
I signed a paper to leave you Moon Lodge. I think it's messed up that so many werewolves are homeless. It's hard living on the streets, not everyone's strong enough to make it. Anyway, you can have Moon Lodge, I just want you to keep it open to any werewolf that needs it. Even if they're kind of a dick and you think you hate them, don't make them sleep on the streets.
Take care of Sirius. Make him take his potion every month. He's fucking insane when he doesn't.
Good luck,
Harry
Remus smiled through his tears when he reread the letter from Harry. It wasn't deep or meaningful, Remus doubted if Harry could separate any positive feelings for Remus away from the anxiety he showed during their sessions, but it was still kind.
Harry had many flaws and he hid his kindness behind sarcasm and barbed jabs. Deep inside him though, deep inside, Harry was a caring person who remembered the plight of werewolves even while he planned his own death.
*****
Ron was scared when he slid his finger beneath the flap of the paper envelope and saw that Harry had left him a letter just like he had almost everyone else in the room.
Back to back, Ron lost two of his best mates. Draco's death hurt worse than Harry's, but Harry dying felt like ripping a bandage off an open and unhealed wound.
Neville whimpered beside Ron and promoted Ron to read the last letters from one of his first friends…
Ron,
Brothers in law aren't the same as regular brothers, but they're still nice to have.
Thanks for letting me be a part of your family for a while. I know Fred took my last name, but I liked being a Weasley. And, most of the time, I liked being your brother.
Thanks for standing by me through a lot of daft stunts and bad plans. Thanks for being a part of the gang. Thanks for being a good friend and brother.
I'm not saying thanks for the strip club though because that had been worse than Neville making me play strip poker. You got eighth place.
I'm leaving you my broomstick. Not the one Sirius bought for the team, but the one that I stole when we went down the trapdoor in our first year. And I'm leaving you my motorcycle. You get the broom cause you like to fly and you get my motorcycle cause I reckon you're the only one who won't wreck it.
Keep your head up or something. You're brill, Ron, you can do whatever you want in your life.
Thanks for everything,
Harry
Ron never really wanted any more brothers, five had been plenty, but adding Harry to the family had been brilliant.
It would have been nice if it had lasted even a single year.
*****
Luna accepted Cissa's hand when she stood up and offered it to her.
Without Draco there, Luna had been afraid that she wouldn't have Cissa and Lucius anymore. It hurt so bad to lose Draco, it was like Luna's heart knew she could never see rainbows as brightly again, but it would have broken Luna in half to lose Cissa as well.
She pities you, the nargles giggled. She thinks you're weak.
I am weak, Luna agreed. She walked behind Cissa with one hand in Cissa's and one hand holding Harry's letter to her.
Luna didn't mind being weak when she felt terribly weak. Everything inside of her ached worse than any pain she'd felt before. It had been truly awful when PJ died. It was horrible when Hermione died and Susan had to kill Johnny.
But there weren't any words that Luna could use to describe the feelings that Draco and Harry dying brought to her. Luna knew in her brain that she would see them again, but her heart was still infected with wrackspurts and wilting from the lack of love in Luna's life.
Cissa cast a warming charm on Luna before she pulled her along outside to the backyard. It was very cold outside and everything was frozen and glistening beneath layers of snow and ice. Luna wondered if the world knew it was headed for a sad and lonely future and just decided to prepare itself.
"Sit," Cissa said after conjuring two cozy chairs in the middle of the backyard. "You'll feel better if you read your letter outside, darling."
Luna sat down but she held the envelope with her name on it out to Cissa.
"Will you read it to me?" Luna asked her. "Please?"
If Cissa read it then Luna could pretend that she was a little girl being read a story. Her mother used to read to Luna, Daddy never did, but Luna could see them how a person could be permanently changed by pain.
Luna certainly felt as if she were an entirely different person.
Cissa took the letter and unfolded it to read.
"Dear Luna, don't let this break you."
Luna smiled and closed her eyes. Harry would understand that she would be feeling very broken. It was sweet of him to tell her to not let it, but some things couldn't be helped.
"I would burn the world down if it meant keeping you safe, what was dying in comparison? You know I'd rather burn the world, but I wasn't given a choice, was I?"
Luna and Cissa sniffled at the same time. It would have been very funny if it wasn't so horribly sad.
"Remember when we met? When those girls were stealing your stuff and I made them give it back? I'm not going to be there to get your stuff back anymore, Lue, so don't let people steal it. You're strong, smart, and brill. Everyone else is rubbish."
A lot of people were rubbish, but not everyone.
"I want you to have Sevvie. Take care of him for me, please? I hope you become a potions master and marry Draco—"
Cissa's voice broke for a moment and Luna clenched her eyes hard. Harry must have wrote the letter before Draco died… it certainly explained why he thought she could keep from falling apart in tiny little Luna pieces. It also explained why Harry left Luna an owl that she saw had been buried in the cemetery with Hermione.
"I'm sorry," Cissa whispered. She cleared her throat and continued reading. "I hope you have a happy life, Lue. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you. You'll always be the person I'll miss the most. I'm sorry I can't save either of us this time. I love you for always, Harry.
"PS, I left Draco Stevie but he's gone now and so is Sevvie. Will you take care of Stevie? He likes you and is too lazy to kill anyone."
When Cissa stopped reading, Luna opened her eyes up. At first she thought that the world did finally understand what happened and it was blurring away since nothing mattered anymore.
Then Luna realized that she was crying again and she pulled her feet up on the chair to hug her legs with her chin on her knees.
He's broken and you might never see him again, the nargles said.
Just as Luna could finally understand how Daddy's sadness changed him, she could also understand why her mother had hated the voices of the nargles in her head. Even if they were right, they were still terribly cruel.
Leave me alone, Luna begged. Just leave me alone.
Never.
*****
Severus sat unmovingly beside Black in the room where Harry laid. Theodore was in a chair beside Harry's bed with his arms crossed and a red knife flipping around in his hands. There was a letter Nymphadora delivered to him on his lap, but it was as unread as Severus' was.
If Severus read the letter, there would never again be any words shared between Severus and Harry. Once Severus read the letter, it would be over.
It would be the end of the peculiar relationship that Severus and Harry had shared and Severus was not prepared for that.
Black had read his letter and cried with such genuine agony that Severus had been helpless to do anything aside from grip his shoulder in shared anguish.
Nymphadora informed them that she and Susan would be going to the Ministry to submit the information along with a box of memories that Harry apparently preserved. Supposedly, they would acquit anyone of any wrong doing through the duration of the war.
Theodore was the one to quietly suggest that they not report Harry's death, not yet.
"He gave us everything," Theodore said quietly as he flipped the knife around in his hand. "Let them think he ended it. Let's just give him this one damn thing."
Severus had nodded in agreement. If Harry could see it, the ridiculous child's ego would be soothed by the world thinking he ended the Dark Lord once again. They would bury Draco, give the world a day to believe their savior saved them, and then Frederick could announce that Harry had died.
It was an acceptance enough plan.
Nymphadora had also suggested that Black return to the castle, but it was Severus who refused on Black's behalf.
"Have Lupin Inform Filius of what has happened," Severus suggested to Black. The man was trembling with grief and still seemed as if he believed he should leave.
"The students…" Black said in a hoarse whisper. "I should be with them."
Severus gripped Black's shoulder and refused to admit that Black's presence brought Severus any comfort. They had been two men they both loved one brilliant boy in their own ways.
Grief was lighter when it was shared.
"Filius will handle it," Severus said. "Stay."
And so Black stayed and Nymphadora handed Severus a letter before leaving.
Severus waited until Black had cried himself to sleep before looking over at Theodore and quietly asking the question on his mind.
"What memories did Harry preserve for the Ministry?" Severus asked. He was curious, but it was a secondary emotion to the bone deep exhaustion he felt clear to his soul.
Severus only asked to give himself something to think of other than the seventeen year old child who laid on a bed with no hopes of returning to life.
"He took the fall for Azkaban, made it seem like a rescue mission gone wrong," Theodore said flatly. The knife in his pain never stopped spinning and Severus finally recognized it as Harry's pocketknife.
It had been the one he nearly stabbed Severus in the gut with and later killed a troll with.
"He also made it sound like Lucius was a spy for Dumbledore," Theodore went on. "He pinned the deaths of the headmasters on Riddle and cleared everyone of any wrongdoing. What he couldn't pin on Riddle, he took the blame for."
Severus' eyes trailed over to Harry's body and a fresh wave of grief washed over him.
"He was a fool," Severus whispered. Harry had spent months ending the war single-handedly. He found the final horcruxes, planned his death to the very detail, and ensured that none of his allies would be subject to criminal trials in the aftermath.
"He's a genius," Theodore said.
Severus nodded before he tipped his head back and rested it on the wall.
Harry was a genius, but he was also a fool.
Never would a day pass that Severus would not mourn him.
Severus had been flitting in a discomfiting place somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. There was no rest in that place, though there was also less pain.
It was the only reprieve Severus expected to be granted and typically it was Black who ripped it away from him.
"Snape. Hey, mate… Tonks is back."
"Excellent," Severus murmured apathetically. "Leave me be."
"You need to go downstairs," Black said with a sense of urgency. "Go on."
Severus sighed imperceptibly and any previous goodwill he felt toward Black dissipated when he was forced to open his eyes.
If Severus could sleep, he could escape the agony of living. If Severus was truly lucky, a thing he rarely was, he could dream of the days where Harry was there to give him chronic headaches.
Severus never realized then that he would one day miss the endless chaos from the child.
Black was dressed in clean attire when Severus opened his eyes. There was a district aura of heartbreak emitting from him, but also a sense of… excitement?
What possibly could have happened in the few hours Severus sat there that brought any light of life to Black's tired eyes?
Severus instinctively looked toward the simple wooden bed and saw that Harry was still laying there with his hands on his chest and Theodore keeping watch over him.
"When I return, you should sleep," Severus told Theodore sympathetically. The boy looked exhausted, he had not left Harry's side since he—
Theodore needed rest. He needed to hold his daughter, think of his life, remember that he had a life.
"We'll see," Theodore quipped. He had Harry's pocketknife on his lap along with the letter he still had not opened. Severus touched the letter in his robe pocket, ensuring it had not fallen out, as he stood up to follow Black down the stairs.
There was a quiet buzz happening on the first floor of the small cottage. Severus stepped in a sitting room and found that Nymphadora held a newspaper in both hands while everyone around her talked at her.
"Nymphadora?" Severus was unable to read her face and he took a measured step toward her.
If Nymphadora was injured, set for arrest… Severus did not know what he would do. Nymphadora was all that Severus had left.
Nymphadora looked up and her face was entirely white as she held a newspaper out to Severus.
"This is being released in the morning," she said. "Read it."
Severus felt a thrill of apprehension shoot down his spine as he accepted the paper. The overabundance of Weasley's in the room fell silent when Severus looked down at the paper.
In bold headlines, just above a photograph that Luna must have taken, it stated that Harry Potter killed Lord Voldemort 'for good'. Severus scanned the article quickly, noting that the media was claiming that the world had never been fooled by 'Minister Gaunt'. Harry was a hero, beloved child of magic, Voldemort was dead, and…
"What the fuck," Severus breathed.
Not many things could take him by surprise and Severus did not expect any emotion to break through his current detachment, but the next headline managed both.
"'Nymphadora Snape named interim Minister of Magic'," Severus read. He blinked, ensuring that the words had not changed, and quickly read the article.
Nymphadora was being praised as a 'invaluable asset to the war and the Boy-Who-Lived'. Her past sacking from the auror department was claimed to be an 'erroneous political ploy' to prevent Harry's release and Nymphadora was the 'hero' who released him so that Harry could slaughter the Dark Lord and end the war.
Kingsley Shacklebolt had also been considered for the position, but it was cemented as Nymphadora's when she arrived with a full recount of the war, Harry's part in it, and her assistance was weighed in.
"Minister Snape." Severus looked from the paper to his wife and felt an irrational urge to laugh. He felt hysterical, perhaps he was cracking apart mentally.
Nymphadora managed a tiny grin with her pink lips when she met Severus' eyes.
"Mum's going to know we're married now," she said.
That did it. That innocuous comment about Nymphadora's mother discovering their marriage pushed Severus off the edge of a cliff he had been teetering on.
Severus let out a bubble of mad laughter that Nymphadora echoed. She stood up from the couch and moved to Severus so they could hold each other just as the inane laughter turned to cries that were indistinguishable from one another.
It was deranged and relatively unhinged.
Severus suspected that was the new world order they had entered when a dead child was hailed a hero and Severus' wife was selected as Minister.
They buried Draco Lucius Malfoy in the Spinners End Cemetery the next day.
It was standing room only inside the small church that had been built on the property and the crowds filled the lawn outside the front door. Reporters clambered to take photographs of the Minister, her husband, and the elusive Boy-Who-Conquered.
While Nymphadora and Severus were unfortunately photographed more than Severus' preference of not at all, the vultures were unable to capture any image of Harry.
What they did see were bereaved parents crying over a white marble casket. They captured Ronald Weasley being supported by his brothers when he went to say goodbye to Draco. They captured Luna looking dazed and lost as she moved around the church in her simple black dress and wide silver eyes.
And every word of Sirius Black's eulogy for Draco was captured and recorded in the press.
"Draco was my student and he was my cousin," Black said solemnly. "Draco was more than just how he was related to others though. Draco was more than a son, a boyfriend, a student. Draco Malfoy was a soldier in a war that he was too young to be a part of.
"We all stood by and knew that teenagers - children - were fighting a war for the freedom that wasn't even being taken from wizards like Draco. Draco was a pureblood, he had nothing to fear from Tom Riddle. Draco could have signed up or stayed out of it with no real consequences.
"He didn't though." Black paused and looked around the packed room, his eyes touching on every member of Draco's family in the front row. "Draco did what he thought was right and in the end he directly fought against Voldemort. Face to face, man to man.
"How many of you can say the same?" Black asked, heightening the guilt of those that arrived for Draco's funeral and never stood by him in life. "Draco Malfoy was brave, he was brilliant, and now - because the world allowed teenagers to fight a war for them - he's gone. I hope every day we never have another war, but if we do, I hope everyone thinks of Draco Malfoy and chooses to keep our children safe and fight the damn war themselves."
A funeral was a poor time to make a political statement, but Severus found himself smirking to himself regardless.
It was an elegant speech, the only person who may have elevated it was scheduled to be buried the following day.
Severus sat in Harry's room with only Theodore, who had missed Draco's funeral to stay with his brother's body, after they buried Draco.
Seeing the boy that Severus had known since infancy be buried in the ground had brought Severus the knowledge that even he could not change facts.
Harry was dead, that was a fact.
Ignoring the letter that Harry left for him was only the idea of a man driven to delusion by grief.
Severus took a seat beside Harry's body and opened his letter with fingers that trembled with distress.
Dear Snape Sev,
If you're reading this, I'm dead. How do you put our relationship in words?
Thanks for being there, I guess. Thanks for not getting rid of me and for sticking by my side even though I give you migraines and grey hair. You're the only bit of proof I've ever known that some people can be fully trusted, and not every adult is out to hurt you.
This sucks so bad. This is why I saved yours for last. Timmy's such a dick for putting us in this position. I know you'll want to kill him, but let Susan do it since we took the other one from her. I know you don't want to kill me, but thanks for doing it anyway. Unless I died some other way, then I'm probably irritated with you. Anyway, I'm leaving you that ghost stone. Bring me back sometime, okay? You can yell at me and I can tell you what hell is like. I wish I could go on with my Mum and Trent, then I could spy on you all until you died one day, but the choices I made aren't going to let me, I think we both know that.
I hope you marry Tonks, and I hope you don't have a best man because I wanted to be yours. I hope you live a long life and you have another kid and I hope you name them after me.
I'm so sorry.
I miss breakfast with you already.
I love you.
Your son,
-Harry Potter-Snape-Black
There was a scribbled 'ps' at the end, a footnote asking Severus to allow Longbottom to use 'the ghost stone' so he could talk with his parents.
Severus touched his lips that were shaking with sobs that he was failing to keep pushed down.
"You can cry," Theodore murmured. "Nobody would blame you."
Severus hardly needed Theodore's permission to release the swell of misery that was consuming him inside. Yet as soon as Theodore finished speaking, Severus broke in a way he had not for a little over sixteen years.
Severus bent over Harry's torso and clutched at the thin arms, the ridiculous jumper, to try one last time to hold him while horrible heaving sobs ripped Severus apart from the inside.
Harry was a flawed human, an immensely flawed human. He had been a product of his environment and perhaps Severus should have done more to guide Harry to make moral decisions.
It killed Severus to know that Harry would never again insult anyone with his voice that never quite lost its twang. It was pain beyond any explanation to believe that Harry had not found peace in the afterlife but was suffering for Severus' failings as a guardian in eternal isolation.
Severus had never truly thought of right and wrong in terms of Heaven and Hell before. Severus was not a religious man, but there was a sense of spirituality within the magical community that Severus would be arrogant to ignore.
In a community filled with ghosts, poltergeists, and those faced eternal judgement after their death… Severus should have guided Harry toward a path that would have returned him to his mother and father.
"I'm sorry," Severus whispered through his tears. He laid his forehead over a heart that no longer beat. "I am so truly sorry, Harry."
"You didn't do anything wrong."
Severus sucked in a burning lungful of air and discreetly wiped his face before responding to Theodore.
"I enabled Harry," Severus said as a simple truth. "His moral failings should weigh on my soul, not his."
The sins of the father are visited upon the children…
"I'M YOUR SON! YOU'RE MY DAD!"
"We all enabled Harry," Theodore snorted. "And one day we'll all be in hell because of it. You're not special there, Severus."
Severus did not smile, but he did find that his lips that were twisted from crying had relaxed. He sat himself up and noticed that Theodore had placed Harry's pocketknife on his stomach.
"He nearly stabbed me with that knife once," Severus told Theodore softly. "I told him to not carry it at Hogwarts and when he had it in his hand two months later, I said nothing."
Severus heard Theodore as he stood up and moved to stand behind Severus as a silent support.
"Harry got it because some dick stabbed him in the leg. He thought it was a funny story."
Severus lifted his hand to reach out for the knife.
"Harry always thought his trauma was best processed through hubris," Severus murmured. He nearly touched the stained, old, familiar knife with his fingertips when Theodore snapped at him.
"Don't touch it." Theodore smacked Severus' hand as he went to grab the pocketknife. "It has to stay with him."
Severus certainly wasn't going to fight the boy over it.
Harry loved that knife.
"We will bury it with him," Severus offered gently. Draco had been buried with letters, photographs, small tokens from his friends and family. None would be surprised to see Harry be buried with weapons.
"You can't bury him!" Theo shrieked. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"He cannot lay there forever, Theodore! It- it is an insult to his memory to allow him to decompose here." Severus lowered his voice, reminding himself that Theodore lost a brother just as he did his son. "I know you cared for him, let us send him off as he would have wanted, hmm?"
"No." Theo put a possessive and protective hand on Harry's cold shoulder. "You can't bury him- literally, Severus. He isn't dead."
Severus felt his throat tighten at Theodore's denial and he shook his head. "Theo, I'm sorry, he is."
"No, he isn't."
"ENOUGH!" Severus yelled, his throat tearing from both the volume and the emotions he was desperately forcing down. "HE IS GONE, THEODORE! GONE! I KILLED HIM! He's—" Severus' voice broke, "he's gone."
"Oh." Theodore did not look convinced, he looked suddenly contrite. He moved his hand from Harry's shoulder to Severus'. "He didn't tell you? I thought he would have."
Severus' head snapped up and he stared into Theodore's brown eyes. "Tell me what?"
As Theodore spoke, as Theodore filled him in on Harry's last ditch attempt to evade death- Severus looked from Theodore to his son.
You unbelievable moron.