All That You Leave Behind

First of all, a big welcome to Talonora, you have, obviously, been added to the list, and thank you for your reviews. Thanks to Tambrathegreat, Cruciaremors, and Quazi for your kind reviews. Quazi, Harry and Severus had a relationship, one of those grand ones that will, we assure you, continue even in death. DarklessVasion, LOL, your review made us both smile, and of course, Cravedom, who always leaves us such great reviews, a big hug. Erm...you may find yourself sobbing into your ice cream once again, sorry. And now Bookworm51485. Both of us took exception to your review, comparing our story to a soap opera, and accusing us of throwing in twists and turns simply for effect. This story has been meticulously plotted from start to finish, and we can assure you that any twists and turns that are there are conducive to the story, and most definitely not added for effect. And really, aside from Severus' death, what twists and turns have we added? While we both try to fully depict the emotions and feelings of each character in each chapter we write in order to portray characters that are realistic and believable, we do not simply randomly add situations and angst simply to have them. They are crucial and necessary to the plot of the story, however, if you truly feel that way, by all means, (and no offense intended) don't reserve judgement. We certainly aren't holding a gun to your head to make you read the story. The bottom line is, if you don't like it, don't read it. We think your comparison to a soap opera, and your accusation of simply throwing in stuff for effect is unfounded and unfair, but you are entitled to your opinion, just as we are.



Chapter 70




Ginny had settled on the bed and was staring blankly at the draped figure when George came in. She blinked upon seeing him, having completely forgotten that he had helped her with Severus’ body. He gave her a wan smile and sat down beside her, looking at the dead body.


“That Healer you spoke to is arranging all the paperwork,” he began softly, not looking at her; instead he glanced down and saw the way her hands clenched.


“I’m not giving up yet,” she said expressionlessly, “Harry hasn’t.”


George swallowed. “It isn’t easy, Gin, losing someone close to you. Losing someone you loved. Feeling like a part of you has gone and will never ever come back…” he stopped, feeling tears welling in his own eyes, “it’s … it’s not easy, accepting that they really have gone, and accepting that this horrible emptiness inside is how you are going to feel for the rest of your life.”


Even amidst her own tragedy, Ginny turned her attention to her brother. “You never said you felt like that, George, about Fred. You should have told someone.”


“Who?” George shrugged, “Mum? Dad? You guys? You had all lost someone you loved too. How could I expect any of you to want to help me through it?”


Ginny blinked tears from her eyes, tears for her dead brother, and his remaining twin. And George, despite everything, was still a twin. It was as if Fred’s ghost hovered right by him the entire time. “I would have wanted to help.”


“I know, Ginny, I do know, but how could I tell people that I keep forgetting he’s dead? That I ask him to fetch me something, and when he doesn’t turn up, it’s like I’m realising he’s gone for the first time. And it happens over and over and over again, until I just want to scream, to shout, to die.”


Ginny squeezed his hand, both ignoring the tears splashing onto their joined limbs. “I’m sorry, George, I am. I wish I knew how to help you. It all seems so senseless, Fred’s death. Yes, I know he died fighting for what was right, but it shouldn’t have cost as much as it did. It wasn’t fair!” She looked at Severus’ body, “It isn’t fair now. He didn’t deserve to die. He saved James’ life, was someone that Harry could talk to, that I could talk to, and he seemed so happy recently, like everything was finally fitting into place. I know that’s how I felt. And it’s gone, and I don’t know why. I can’t understand George. WHY?!”


She slumped against him, shoulders shaking as she struggled to restrain her sobs. George pulled her into his arms and held her. His voice was choked as he spoke, “I don’t know, Ginny, I don’t understand why either. I don’t understand why Fred had to die, why him and not me. I’d already lost an ear, he was whole, so why him? Why not me? And it was so pointless, so senseless. I don’t understand it. I never shall. But I know what it feels like Ginny, to not be able to breathe because you hurt that much, to feel like your heart is not broken, but frozen, and the only person who could unfreeze it is gone, and … and you don’t know why!” He held her tightly as he finished, his own tears flowing freely down his face.


“At least you’ve got Harry,” he said eventually, “Harry can help you.”


But Ginny shook her head.


“Harry loved Severus even more than I did. He needed Severus in ways that I couldn’t help him with. But, but now I’ll have to try to be everything he needs, the one who Harry can talk to, like I should have been the one you talked to.” She pulled back slightly and glared at him through red-rimmed eyes.


He managed a wobbly smile. “I can always count on you Ginny, that’s why I never had to speak to you. Knowing I could was enough.” He paused and cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Erm, how about we get Severus down to the morgue?”


Ginny moved so suddenly it startled him. “No! Harry isn’t back. He’s gone to try and save Severus, I know he has. And I won’t give up. Not until I have no other choice. Harry hasn’t, and I can’t. You wouldn’t have just given up on Fred, would you? I’m not giving up on Severus, he's part of my family.”


George raised his eyebrows, but held his tongue. He knew, non-better, how dangerous denial was, how it led you into a world far from reality which seemed much more comforting and safe than the real one, and how hard it was to escape from, to go back to the pain and anguish of the true situation. He would, if necessary, be there for both Harry and Ginny, and stop them going to that dark place which was so hard to fight free from. For George, oddly enough, it had been Fred himself who had made him accept the truth. Of course, Fred had done it in his own inimitable fashion:


“’Ere, lugless, you gonna wallow in self-pity forever? I’m playing it footloose – literally – and fancy free on the other side, you’ve got a duty to all those lovely living damsels you know! And Mum and Dad; when was the last time you heard Mum scream at you? Now, get back out there and show them why they should be grateful there’s only one Weasley twin to contend with!”


George grinned through his tears, remembering the monologue. Was it a memory, or the imaginings of a half-crazed mind? Either way, it had been enough to help him make the difficult journey of acceptance.


Now, if only Ginny and Harry could accept Severus’ death…


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"Even if I did tell you, my boy, it would do you no good," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.


"Yes it will!" Harry shouted, "I'm not afraid to use it like you were! I want him back here and I know he wants to be back here! You can't possibly think that this ....this....time...is any more fair than last time! And you had a hand in last time, I know you did! Why was it alright then but not now?!"


"Harry....there were things left unfinished before," Dumbledore said, "things....you needed to know about one another, things you needed to know about your parents, and things that you needed to know about Severus...."


"There's still things I need to know about Severus!" Harry shouted, his grief flooding back, fueling his anger. "We aren't...we aren't done with each other yet! And you have no right to keep him from me! No right to take the thing that can bring him back! You said I was the true master of death, not you, me! Now tell me where the stone is, Professor!"


"If you will recall, Harry," Dumbledore said in that maddening way of his, "I also told you that the true master does not seek to run away from death, not only his own death, and that he accepts it, because there are far worse things in the living world than dying. I also told you that I was afraid your hot head may dominate your good heart. And I also told you that I was afraid that you might seize the Hallows at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. Such as now."


"You were tempted for the wrong reasons," Harry said stubbornly, "for your own gain. I know Severus wants to be here."


"Harry, please," Dumbledore sighed, "I understand how you feel....."


"You understand nothing!" Harry ground out, his anger at Dumbledore overtaking his grief for Severus. "You never did! You never once stopped to think how all you asked of both of us made either of us feel! You used us, both of us, to play God, for your own ends! Well, no more, Dumbledore. Tell me where the stone is!"


"If I had it, I would not give it to you, Harry," Dumbledore said regretfully, his words reminiscent of Hermione's "your reasons are just as much for self gain as mine were. Very few people truly want to die, Harry, but nearly all who do find a peace in it, no matter the actual circumstances of their death. Those who don't, who are either afraid to face death, or do not acknowledge that they have indeed died, are the only ones who do not find that peace. Severus was not fool enough to not recognise death for what it is as it stared him in the face, Harry. Nor was he afraid to die. You know that."


"But...he wouldn't want to be....." Harry could not bring himself to say it. "He wants to be here! I know he does! He's my family!" he insisted, "it isn't just for me, it's for him! He finally found a family, with us, he wouldn't want to leave us, and I can't let him. Not knowing there's a way to bring him back!"


"But he would not be Severus, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly, "you know what happened in the fairy tale. You know what happened in the forest. Those the stone brings back are not really returned to us. They are not themselves. They are only a shadow of themselves, niether here, nor there, cold and sad. Is that really what you want, Harry?"


Despite Hermione's voice ringing through the back of his mind, despite the fairy tale, despite all Dumbledore's words, Harry's grief and love for Severus refused to allow him to believe that Severus would be anything other than thrilled to be alive again. Refused to believe that his own love for Severus would keep him anything other than warm and happy in his arms.


"You don't understand," Harry said, "you don't know what we had become to one another. You don't understand how happy we both finally were. And we can be that way again, both of us, just like we were when you showed Hermione how to bring him back the first time. You helped her. Why won't you help me?"


"Resurrecting the dead is not the same as turning back time and righting a wrong, Harry," Dumbledore said, "and I have made certain that mistake cannot be made again. The stone was destroyed, long before you went into the forest to look for it. I could not allow you, or anyone, to make the same mistake your ancestor did and bring back someone who does not belong among the living."


Harry gasped, the tears falling hotly down his cheeks, and felt stabbed through the heart, his last hope gone. "No," he moaned, falling to his knees, "no!"


"Harry...." Dumbledore said mournfully, and bowed his painted head.


"Severus........Severus!" Harry's voice cracked as he finally turned towards the painting he had been so desperately ignoring. Severus would know what to do, would know how to help him. He saw the sleeping figure in the chair and moaned, "Please, Severus....wake up! Wake up! Talk to me, please.....I......I don't think I can do this....I can't do this alone....Severus! Severus! Wake up......please wake up!" he begged, but Severus slept on.


"He cannot hear you, Harry," Dumbledore said gently, "there is a.... transition period...of sorts. He will not wake until after his funeral."


Harry could not bear to think of Severus' body, the arms that had held him so tightly, the lips that had kissed his so passionately, the heart that had beat so strongly for him, lying cold and still in the ground. He sank back to his knees, railing "No, no, no!" at the unfairness of it all, for both him and Severus.


Several minutes passed, and Harry's voice, hoarse from screaming, began to fail him, leaving him whimpering quietly on the carpet, heartbroken and defeated.


"Harry," Dumbledore said, "be the true master once again. Do not run from this. Accept it. Go on to live your life. Severus was not afraid to face death, and he would not wish you to be either."


Harry, even in his grief, could not deny the truth of the old man's words. He looked up once again at the portrait of the man he loved and could almost hear the beloved voice telling him not to carry on so. He would tell him to be a man, to behave as the adult he was always insisting he was. Remind him that he had a responsibility, to Ginny and James, that they had to come first.


Slowly he got to his feet. He wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath. Like Severus would expect of him.


And like Severus, Harry pushed his feelings aside. He turned on his heel and left the office. He went to do, he needed to do, what was expected of him.


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