Very short angsty fic; allusions to slashiness and mentions of excessive character death There is nothing explicit or graphic and aside from making me cry as I wrote it, it is fairly safe. Italics denotes Martina McBride's "From the Ashes" I own neither the song nor anything related to the Harry Potter universe.
Ashes
My right hand holds matches; my left holds my past. I hope the wind catches and burns it down fast. I'm gonna step into the fire with my failures and my shame. And wave goodbye to yesterday as I dance among the flames.
He watched as all of the flowers and cards, and anything else that was flammable, burnt to less than ash. If the headstones had been combustible, he would have gladly watched those go up in smoke as well. It was all the past, a past that he could not let go. He clung to it in a way that only the desperate can, as only one who had only known loss can. They were not really gone if he never stopped thinking about them. Their lives had not been wasted, needlessly squandered if only he could remember them in all of their details.
So don't try to save me now. Let the walls of my world all burn down. Just stand back and wait 'til the smoke finally passes and I will rise from the ashes.
Severus had finally convinced him to let them go, to let them rest in peace without the burden of his grief. It had been six years after all; no one would have wanted him to mourn all that time. Of course, Severus had not said it that nicely, but he knew. He knew that the losses had affected Severus as greatly, if not more so than they had affected him. Albus' death had been particularly difficult; he had been as a father to so many, Sev included. But this day was for him, not for Sev, and they both knew it. That is why the potions master stood silently in the periphery, waiting for the tears to stop flowing and the fire to stop burning.
For all that I'm losing, much more will I gain. The hard part is choosing to change what needs changed. My step will be much lighter with these demons off my chest. I'm born a better spirit and lay the old to rest.
It was like a ritual cleansing by fire and a catharsis at the same time. With the heat from the flames licking at his face, he could have pretended that it was the stinging dryness causing his eyes to water, but to do that would have dishonoured everything for which they had fought, would have dishonoured them. So he let the tears fall freely, finally grieving fully and completely for all of their losses, their sacrifices. He now understood that he could honour them by living, and living well. They died so that he, and all the others could enjoy their freedom, lives without the threat of one revenge-minded half-blood. They would have told him that he deserved happiness after all of the sacrifices he himself had made, years without knowing love, finding it only to lose it again too soon. They would be glad for him, knowing that he had found love again, maybe not the same sort of love, but a love all the same. He told them about it, about how kind Sev had been to him, hoping that they were smiling for him, the smile that he did not yet really have the heart for. Imagining their faces, shining with joy, James, Lily, Albus, Pomfrey, Hermione, Ron, Remus, he could not stop the slight upturn that afflicted this lips, the beginnings of a new start to his life.
So don't try to save me now. Let the walls of my world all burn down. Just stand back and what 'til the smoke finally passes and I will rise from the ashes.
He stopped at the last grave, a whispered spell making all of the trappings disappear in a cloud of smoke. Kneeling down, he placed a tender kiss on the gravestone, murmuring a final goodbye, six years too late for it to hold any true meaning, other than for his own personal relief. Still, he said it and felt a terrible weight lift from his chest; they were all finally free, those who passed as well as he who had been left behind. A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder as Severus came to stand beside him. The other man looked down at the newly cleared plot with a sad smile on his face.
"Are you ready?"
He nodded slowly, wiping the last traces of his anguish from clear blue eyes. As he walked way from all that was left of his old life, Sirius whispered the four words he had never had a chance to say to the other in life.
"I love you, Harry."
And I'll walk away stronger, I will be flying, higher and truer than I've flown before.
Ashes
My right hand holds matches; my left holds my past. I hope the wind catches and burns it down fast. I'm gonna step into the fire with my failures and my shame. And wave goodbye to yesterday as I dance among the flames.
He watched as all of the flowers and cards, and anything else that was flammable, burnt to less than ash. If the headstones had been combustible, he would have gladly watched those go up in smoke as well. It was all the past, a past that he could not let go. He clung to it in a way that only the desperate can, as only one who had only known loss can. They were not really gone if he never stopped thinking about them. Their lives had not been wasted, needlessly squandered if only he could remember them in all of their details.
So don't try to save me now. Let the walls of my world all burn down. Just stand back and wait 'til the smoke finally passes and I will rise from the ashes.
Severus had finally convinced him to let them go, to let them rest in peace without the burden of his grief. It had been six years after all; no one would have wanted him to mourn all that time. Of course, Severus had not said it that nicely, but he knew. He knew that the losses had affected Severus as greatly, if not more so than they had affected him. Albus' death had been particularly difficult; he had been as a father to so many, Sev included. But this day was for him, not for Sev, and they both knew it. That is why the potions master stood silently in the periphery, waiting for the tears to stop flowing and the fire to stop burning.
For all that I'm losing, much more will I gain. The hard part is choosing to change what needs changed. My step will be much lighter with these demons off my chest. I'm born a better spirit and lay the old to rest.
It was like a ritual cleansing by fire and a catharsis at the same time. With the heat from the flames licking at his face, he could have pretended that it was the stinging dryness causing his eyes to water, but to do that would have dishonoured everything for which they had fought, would have dishonoured them. So he let the tears fall freely, finally grieving fully and completely for all of their losses, their sacrifices. He now understood that he could honour them by living, and living well. They died so that he, and all the others could enjoy their freedom, lives without the threat of one revenge-minded half-blood. They would have told him that he deserved happiness after all of the sacrifices he himself had made, years without knowing love, finding it only to lose it again too soon. They would be glad for him, knowing that he had found love again, maybe not the same sort of love, but a love all the same. He told them about it, about how kind Sev had been to him, hoping that they were smiling for him, the smile that he did not yet really have the heart for. Imagining their faces, shining with joy, James, Lily, Albus, Pomfrey, Hermione, Ron, Remus, he could not stop the slight upturn that afflicted this lips, the beginnings of a new start to his life.
So don't try to save me now. Let the walls of my world all burn down. Just stand back and what 'til the smoke finally passes and I will rise from the ashes.
He stopped at the last grave, a whispered spell making all of the trappings disappear in a cloud of smoke. Kneeling down, he placed a tender kiss on the gravestone, murmuring a final goodbye, six years too late for it to hold any true meaning, other than for his own personal relief. Still, he said it and felt a terrible weight lift from his chest; they were all finally free, those who passed as well as he who had been left behind. A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder as Severus came to stand beside him. The other man looked down at the newly cleared plot with a sad smile on his face.
"Are you ready?"
He nodded slowly, wiping the last traces of his anguish from clear blue eyes. As he walked way from all that was left of his old life, Sirius whispered the four words he had never had a chance to say to the other in life.
"I love you, Harry."
And I'll walk away stronger, I will be flying, higher and truer than I've flown before.