Forgiven, Not Forgotten

You promised me forever; why have you left me now?

You promised me marriage; why aren't we married now?

During those days in which I tormented and ached for you…and I believe you ached for me too, did you plan on breaking me, the way you have?

Yes, the Boy-Who-Lived is broken, little more then a fragile doll. Did you plan on ripping out my heart?

I'll admit-I sound melodramatic, but I have that right. You promised me, you promised, that when I had legally left school you would claim me, yet you disappeared on what was destined to be a night to remember. I suppose it was just that.

Ah Destiny, Fate and Destiny, which one is against me? Is either one on my side? I doubt it. The sister's have taken from me everything. My friends have abandoned me-I am no longer of any use. My mentor is dead, the last person who ever truly cared is dead, my honorary uncle has deserted me, and you, you who knew this would happen, what have you done to me? How can it be reversed? I am little more then a shell now – I should have died in the Final Battle, but instead Fate and Destiny have chosen for me to live, live to see their final blow.

For that's what it is, a final blow. I like that word, final. It just sounds so appealing. I have had enough. Death is the only way to go forward now. The End.

Why is things like that capitalised? Why do I care? Then I suppose I don't actually. I am procrastinating.

I am frightened. Not of death- never of death-but the process of dying. Will I feel the pain of all the bones in my body breaking, as I throw myself from the battlements? Or will I simply cease to feel? I don't mind either way – as long as I am dead. I suppose I would deserve the pain.

Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Ginny, Charlie, Susan, Hannah, Blaise, Dean, Terry, Dobby, Buckbeak, Gabrielle, Victor…

The list goes on. It is my fault these people died. Living others say otherwise, but I see it in their eyes. They blame me. It's my fault…

So let this be my last Will and Testament, made in a right state of mind (perhaps not):

To the Weasley's, I leave my trust fund, as it is my fault Ginny and Charlie died, and Bill was hurt…

To the Ministry, I leave the Potter bank account, excepting a total of one hundred million galleons. Use it to repair the Wizarding World, Madam Bones. It is my fault Susan died.

I leave the total of one hundred million galleons to Remus, as well as the Black vaults. I am sorry you lost your friend; I wish mine had been the lost life.

To Hermione, I leave all the books in my possession, I am sorry you saw fit to abandon me, but I cannot blame you for choosing Ron over me- He is your lover. I am a murderer.

As for my properties, I pray that they will be used as Wizarding orphanages – no child will ever have to go through what Tom and I did.

Finally, to my lover, Severus Snape, I leave the broken-heart necklace, which was recovered from the fire of Godric's Hollow.

Sincerely,

Harry James Potter,

Former Boy-Who-Lived

The Wizarding World was in turmoil- news had spread fast. The Boy-Who-Lived had attempted to commit suicide! Granted, there was still a possibility of him dying, he was nowhere near the clear yet.

The words of his last letter had burned them to the core…the Final Battle had been a year ago, and no one had seen fit to question how Harry Potter had been feeling. The Wizarding World mourned – but one man more then any other.

Severus Snape refused to leave Harry's bedside, he had tried everything from threats to pleading to make the boy – no man – wake up. Everything, nothing was working…

Severus was not the only one who felt the pain dearly though. Hermione and Ron were shocked their friend felt that way, but with heavy hearts they realised it to be truth. They gave no thought to Harry, they just left him alone.

The other members of the Weasley family also felt guilt hit them. They had neglected Harry, a child whom they considered family. They realised that since the Final Battle that they had failed to ask Harry to join them for Christmas or summer- Ron had also ignored his letters which he later found were pleas to take him away- Vernon Dursley had begun physical violence on his nephew; The evidence of which was obvious when Madame Pomphrey removed the glamour Harry had painstakingly put on.

Remus was horrified by this event in particular; he had failed in his role as 'honorary uncle'. He didn't blame Harry at all for Sirius's death, neither did anyone else. It took all Tonks had to pull Remus back from the brink of despair.

"Harry, darling, you need to wake up." Harry softly opened his eyes, which met green so similar to his.

"Mum?" He whispered, not daring to believe it. His redheaded mother smiled and nodded. Her eyes showed her sadness though.

"I am so sorry my little love, but it is not yet your time, Fate still has more in store." Harry's eyes snapped more open as he howled with pain, he felt his world go black once more, but he heard his Mother's voice.

"Be strong, my darling! And ask Severus why he did it! No one here blames you! I love you! Your Father, blasted Godfather and I are so proud of you sweetheart!"

Harry awoke with tears in his eyes. Why wouldn't Fate let him be? Why wouldn't she let him die? He felt eyes on him, and soft lips approach and touch his palm just as softly. Severus was next to him, he was older then Harry remembered but none the less looked good. Harry saw the tear tracks on Severus's face, wet and dry. Harry sniffed as he wiped the tears away and gently put his lips to his lover's. He would confront him another day.

All was forgiven – but not forgotten.

This idea came quite randomly to me when I was supposed to be doing my Science exam...bleh, methinks I failed.

Bloody Muse.

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