Title: Seven Stages of Grieving
Author: So Yun
Beta: Syracusethedog
Chapter: 4/7
Rating: M
Warnings: Languages, violence, adult themes, character death
Summary: Something tragic has befallen Harry, how do the seven people connected to him deal?
Note1: Change of style, some POV's and some narrated POV's
Note2: Don't be disappointed but this fic isn't a 'Harry comes back to life' I intend to stay original!
Note3: Play "Trust me" By the Fray for this chapter.
Seven stages of Grieving
A deny four times
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"It's time Sirius-"
"I'm coming."
Sirius stood up and dragged his feet as he followed Kingsley through the labyrinth of Hogwarts. The finally came to the door of the Hospital wing/ morgue and Sirius rested his hand on the cold doorframe before entering. He passed Ron and Hermione, each lying on their separate beds, he sent them a grim smile.
The room adjacent wing had been charmed to stay chilled for the meantime. As he stepped in his breath got caught in his throat as he saw the still figure lying on the bed at the end of the room.
He paused and closed his eyes for a moment before striding towards it timidly. Kingsley followed him closely, ready to support his friend. He was also carrying a packet of special wizards robes which the minister had given Dumbledore to dress Harry in.
Sirius sat on the stool beside Harry and rubbed his hands deftly over his face. Not emitting a sound just controlled silent breaths.
He watched as Kingsley pulled the sheet back, for a moment a small tear came to Sirius's eye but he wiped it away quickly. Harry's eyes stared right into his Godfather's soul, Sirius kept back a choked sob.
Kingsley shut his eyes for a moment before pulling the sheet back fully and opening the packet of robes. Sirius eyed him closely and all of a sudden grabbed the packet out of Kingsley's hands and incinerated them with his wand.
"My godson will not be wearing handed out Ministry robes!" He snarled and looked at the pile of ash resting at his feet.
Kingsley nodded before continuing to pull Harry's dirtied muggle clothes off. Sirius watched him then said,
"He would have wanted to wear his quidditch robes." He nearly whispered before summoning Harry's trunk.
The trunk appeared and Sirius looked forlornly at it before opening it hastily and rummaging through.
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The day was ending and Remus Lupin looked out the window, he was interrupted when Snape came through the door carrying a steaming Goblet.
"No." Lupin hoarsely managed and continued to stare out the window. He realized Snape stood behind him patiently, the steam off the goblet wafting off it.
"I don't want it, not tonight."
"Lupin,"
"No Severus, you should understand why."
"You could be a danger and if you so insufferably do so then-"
"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF NO?!" Lupin said turning, full on bellowing at the potions professor.
"I WANT TO BE LEFT THE FUCK ALONE!"
He pushed past the tall man and started for the basement when a long fingered hand stopped him.
"I understand Lupin, excuse me for my rudeness, I-"
"Thankyou Severus" Lupin replied sincerely and smiled weakly, his eyes watered.
"I know this is your way of grieving-we all have ways and this is yours" Snape said calmly looking past Lupin somewhere.
Remus stopped at this and turned, looking at the black haired man, "Then what is your's?" He asked casually but trained his eyes to align right with Snape's obsidian ones.
"I don't know." The man answered calmly before tipping the potion down the sink and banishing the goblet.
He went to leave Grimmauld place when Lupin's voice stopped him, "I know you are grieving him Severus, even if he was the son of your enemy."
Snape acknowledged this and continued in his stride, turning to look at Lupin for the last time, a faint trace of a smile played on his lips.
"I am." He whispered just loud enough for the other man to hear. He left through the front door then apparated to his Hogwarts gates.
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For the first time in my life, when I land from apparation I stumble. My billowing black robes fly everywhere and I wrap hold of the gate wires to steady myself
I hold onto it with a vice grip, even if I am balanced just fine now. I know my face is flushed and I'd give a fair bet my hair is fly away. I understand why Lupin refuses his wolfsbane; I know what he wants to do.
Once I am sure I am fine I continue to walk up the path and through the giant oak doors. As I enter my quarters I slam the door hard.
We all have to vent our grief and anger at the Dursley's somehow. I finally sit down and bury my face in my hands; Harry's face has finally disappeared. I no longer see his green orbs haunting me.
I feel better in a sense, I hated Harry fucking Potter, well technically James fucking Potter's son. Unfair I know.
I hate myself, Severus Snape right now. Or maybe the Dursley's, they did this. They devastated everyone, including me by killing one Harry Potter.
No one devastates me, it's impossible till now. But somehow my seething anger is no longer directed at the boy, it is directed at those goddamn muggles.
They have reduced me to a quivering mass of unstable jelly. I can't hold myself upright and I know what has caused it.
Death is a funny thing; I never knew someone's death could affect so many people differently. Even me as an afterthought.
I stand and run my fingers through my greasy hair; maybe I should wash it for Harry Potter's sake. He always said I should.
James Potter would roll around in his grave. No more Snivellus.
I feel an abating anger rising the more I think about Harry. He was just an innocent child who I myself was sure would be killed in the war. But no he was killed by effing muggles, no magic whatsoever.
So it seems no one is invincible even if magical.
I finally know my way to grieve; I must break everything in the vicinity. So I stupidly open my potions cabinet and rip out all the glass vials.
I smile maniacally and throw them all, watching in pleasure as sparks explode when they mix with the flames of my fireplace. I am laughing, so unjust but I am laughing.
I break everything I can get my hands on, I laugh for Harry Potter, I smile for Harry Potter, I scream for myself.
I am no longer laughing; I stop and look at the destruction I've made. I slump and turn to look at my reflection in the mirror. Life's not meant to be fair Harry Potter, but I would have swapped places eagerly for you child.
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I see the full moon rise through the window of the basement. I grimace and feel the pain in my limps making me scream. But I scream openly and I scream for you Harry.
All the anger I feel in my bones are breaking out as they stretch. I feel my insides rearranged and the fur vastly covering my skin. I scratch at my self, I am so numb in sadness I don't feel the pain.
I lick up my blood and howl, loud and clear. If I were human this would be equivalent to me screaming.
I howl for minutes or hours I don't know. I feel a maniac sense to kill and I visualize the Dursley's. I shred my skin into strips and throw myself against the basement walls.
I can smell pain and sadness emitting from everywhere, it stinks the room out. I find it unbearable and I howl so loud I feel as though my vocal chords have ripped.
I hug myself, ignoring the fact that my claws dig into my flesh. That smell is itching me and I want it to go away.
I realize that the smell is coming from me.
For hours I throw myself around, I don't care because I need this. I know that once I have killed my anger I will be able to fully grieve for you Harry.
Please don't worry; I'll be fine, you'll see.
When I watch the stars as I howl, two sparkle at me brightly. I can see you smiling at me from heaven Harry, thankyou.
I bare my teeth and growl mournfully, I can't believe I let you slip from my gasp. If I would have had a son Harry, it would have been you.
My anger has been flowing through me ever since I smashed my fist into Vernon Dursley's nose two times. I felt disgusted I'd even raised my fist, you don't like fighting.
I'm glad Kingsley stopped me, but nothing has ever stopped me loving you Harry. Not even death can separate us, I can see you. I know you see me.
I am willing to be in pain for you Harry, because I bet you were in pain before you died.
But I know you died happy, you had a smile on your face. A smile Harry, it tells me you are alright.
I didn't want you ripped out of my hands so early; I want to tell you a secret.
I was so jealous of Sirius, it pained me everyday. I wanted you, I wanted to be Sirius. I wanted to have that bond you shared with him. I wanted you.
But now when I look back I am no longer jealous. You were ours.
As dawn breaks, I throw myself at a wall for the last time. My bones ache, they ache for you.
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Remus lay slumped against the wall until he heard someone proceeding down the stairs. Snape came into the room, he looked unusually defeated. The usual sour expression was replaced by a blank look, although a sadness flashed in his eyes that no one could decipher.
He knelt down besides Lupin and pulled out a vial of pain relieving potion and a heap of bandages.
"I found my way to grieve Lupin," He said quietly whilst attending to Lupin's various wounds. Snape frowned and continued,
"You've hurt yourself pretty bad, but I'll make sure you can make it to the funeral." He said sincerely, Lupin stayed silent.
"He was ours." Remus Lupin barely whispered before falling asleep from his exhaustion, his head lolling on his shoulder.
"Yes, he was ours." Snape answered back, even though he knew the man could not hear him.
"He was ours."
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Next Chapter:
Five years