Bring Me To Life : A Continuation
by I Got Tired of Waiting

Part I : The Past to the Present
The Cause for Celebration

Pausing in his speech, as if drawing his next thoughts together, Severus stared pointedly at Harry out in the audience. My, we're a bit maudlin tonight, aren't we? Is this truly necessary? You're distracting me.

The time we travelled together was one of our best ever. Indulge me.

Don't I always? Why should tonight be any different than any other?

And wasn't that the truth? Secure in Severus' amusement, Harry let the memories flow, content to distract his husband if he wasn't distressing him.

Two months later, Harry had fully recovered. Over the Board of Governors vehement protests, Severus handed Hogwarts temporarily over to Colin Longbottom who'd been filling in for Harry while away. For the next sixteen months, he and Severus travelled together installing the remainder of the Wards. As Harry expended energy, Severus replenished it, and more, through their bond and, on rare occasions, using the rings.

Severus bullied, cajoled and, when necessary, berated town elders with his customary fire if he thought for one instant Harry was in danger. He always won his case, for there were few who could best Severus when he drew the mantle of his full power around him in righteous anger. Each day, Severus would watch him with narrowed eyes, senses straining to feel how Harry was doing.

Harry would, on occasion, encounter a particularly stubborn Stone and he would have to wrestle the Draconus Ward into place with sheer power. Or worse, they would find a town only half protected, the idiots in charge too weak, or too incompetent to maintain their own Wards. In these cases, they had to repair things before Harry could proceed with their work, his powers strained to the limit by the time he finished, even with Severus' help.

So despite everything Severus did to protect him, there were still nights when they'd stagger into the quarters assigned them and collapse in an exhausted stupor. Nights where Harry's last sight was Severus' regretful face leaning over him while he soothingly cradled him with the last of his own reserves, murmuring tender words of endearment while coaxing him to healing sleep.

Their bond strengthened, running far deeper than ever intended. They began to mind-speak as a matter of course and their lives were richer for it. They learned to double-speak and found a much-needed relief from their continuing frustrations as their wicked inner exchanges belied the polite conversations necessary to reach the very same idiots they served.

Severus laughed more in public while Harry grew quieter and more introspective. In private, Severus was the quiet one, Harry the one who buoyed him with infectious humour and joy. It was a good balance.

And somehow, whether through their bond or their shared stubbornness, they finished their task. They could return to Hogwarts knowing that every village, every town, every wizarding community around the world was protected.

Draco's legacy was finished.

They never received any accolades nor any gratitude, for they never asked for it. To them it was a necessity, an act of everyday survival, not one of celebration. Five teams and Harry had gone out at the beginning and only one team remained; it was hard to rejoice while remembering those who had died trying. They were the real heroes.

Their part in history finished, Caballa and Abel's short reunion with Harry and Severus was solemn. With quiet pleasure, Severus bound the two Ward-Setters with silken cord; afterwards they retired quietly in Hogsmeade to raise their family in a safety they'd helped secure.

This was how they wanted it. And while the rest of the wizarding world jubilantly celebrated the end of the persecution, Harry and Severus quietly returned to their Hogwarts, quietly renewed their bond with the Earth Stone, and then quietly retired to their quarters to make undisturbed, unhurried love in front of their fire on their ancient silk rug.

With little fanfare, they returned to their work at Hogwarts, seemingly as if the time away had not existed. They settled into their old routine; staid headmaster with a bit more humour and irrepressible, yet calmer, Professor by day, devoted lovers at night.

If the students and staff puzzled over the subtle changes, it soon receded in their memories till life went on much the same as always in their insulated world. But it had changed. Their travelling time together had created an unbreakable dependence between them. Only they knew of their personal vulnerability created as energy best spent supporting each other was still squandered on the needs of others; the hypnotic mantra of everyday living at Hogwarts drained their relationship.

Once things settled a bit, Seth approached them, formally asking for Lenore's hand. Harry would never forget the stunned look on Severus' face followed by his head-shaking chuckles as he realised that, despite their blatant scheming for years, the two brats had done it on their own without their intercession. And poor, serious Seth--he'd thought for one heart-stopping moment that Severus was laughing at him and his request, but Harry rescued him, telling him that Severus' little 'aberrations' were a recent development and to ignore it.

He'd rather enjoyed the retribution exacted for that 'little' comment.

In a private ceremony with just their respective families, Severus and Harry joined Seth and Lenore. In one of his rare moments, Severus openly shared his joy in their union. Harry was just happy at the radiance on Lenore's face and the protective way Seth held her as he kissed her. He had a premonition, sadly proven correct, that they would not be too long together and in his quiet way, he urged them both to savour every moment.

I'm curious. Is there any particular reason you feel compelled to go over all of this? Again? Tonight?

Harry could sense there was more to the question than idle curiosity; bringing up Lenore always did that to Severus. I don't know, it's just right, that's all. You know how impulsive I am.

Harry rolled his eyes at the snort of concurrence he received from Severus at that comment.

I just realised tonight's the end of an era. Our era. What follows will be very different, perhaps even boring by comparison. We're not the same people we once were. It just feels right somehow to finally celebrate living. To finally acknowledge, without boasting, that we're all here because we refused to give up, we refused to lose. After all the conflict, all the deaths, I feel an overpowering need to find something good and pure out of it all. It's a good feeling I have now. I want to savour it, to taste it, to feel it.

Silence greeted his statement. Severus? he called softly. Then it dawned on him what he'd just thought, what he'd implied. Oh, Severus! I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Are you all right?

My mind is as cynical as it ever was. Think of something 'good and pure' for me. Please, the last thought almost desperate.

Harry pondered this a moment. He paged through his memories and settled on an amalgam of the many nights they'd shared. He formed a mental picture of the two of them, Harry draped over Severus, their bodies entwined on one of their much-abused silk rugs in front of a dying fire after a particularly satisfying bout of loving. With the image firmly fixed, he summoned from deep within his wellspring, the profound feelings of love and peace he always felt in moments like this, when their joining had gone beyond physical pleasure. No hiding, no barriers, their hearts and souls bare to each other. Concentrating, he fused the two thoughts together and gently sent them to Severus.

Severus' voice cracked in his speech as he received the unexpected gift. He stopped and levitated a glass of water to the place where he was speaking. Drinking, he asked, Is that...? How you feel...? Have I told you how much I love you?

Harry nodded, sending him a fleeting mental touch.

Severus resumed his speech, "As I look back on all we've survived, at how we've changed, I sometimes have to remind myself that almost every student in this school was born after our work was finished. Their relatively carefree world was defined by us, paid by us, moulded by us. Now it's our time to be care-free, to lose the melancholy, lose the sorrow, lose the fear. It's our time to celebrate, to live in the present," he faltered at his next words, a ripple of sorrow passing through him, "Not in the past. Forward. We must go forward, for we cannot ever go back."

Harry knew he was speaking more to him than the audience. All right! I get it. I'll try to think of something more pleasant.

Quidditch was always good. In his prime, before all the craziness, he'd dropped the Potions class in favour of taking over from Madam Hooch at her retirement. George Weasley, by then a full professor himself, was only too happy to oblige.

He'd early on given up any dreams of playing Quidditch professionally, for the spell (at the time) wouldn't let them separate for the long periods of time he would have needed. In this manner, he completely satisfied his love of flying and his love of the game by teaching it to others.

But he retired his broom when a near-fatal accident had sent him (and Severus by way of their bond) into the infirmary for almost two months while his 69 year-old, shattered body healed. And while he got back the full use of his limbs, the incident jolted him into acknowledging he could no longer endanger Severus for his own pleasure. So, his custom broom was hung in a place of honour with all the Quidditch cups and Harry resigned himself to the ground.

Is this your idea of something 'more pleasant'? Severus asked wryly. Because, if it is...

Sorry... Harry hesitated. I'm thinking it can't all be good or all bad. It's more of a progression, a cycle of things. They're so intertwined, I can't think of one without the other.

Fifty points for Gryffindor. It only took you... What? A century to figure it out? Why do you think I'm in such a bad mood most of the time? Severus sent with a wicked laugh.

I don't know. Not enough sex? Feeling the mental blow Severus sent him, he chuckled, Ten points from Slytherin for lack of control.

I've never heard you complain about my control, he retorted and went back to his speech.

Always has to have the last word, Harry thought to himself, knowing that unless they were physically together (so he could stop that wicked mouth with his own) he never would get it. Not that he minded... too much.

He heard Severus drawing another deep laugh from the crowd with another one of his amusing anecdotes. They'd enough of them--a lifetime's worth. They'd listen to him until the flesh rotted off their bones, he thought, laughing appreciatively with the others. Savouring the silky voice as it continued, he returned to his own memories.

Shortly after Seth and Lenore's marriage, Harry decided to retire. He retained his position as Head of House for Gryffindor, for he couldn't bear to part from them. However, to his mind, eighty-one years as Deputy Headmaster, and eighty-five years teaching everything from Potions to Defence Against the Dark Arts was more than enough for a tired man who bore more grey hair than his older husband. While he publicly claimed the classes required someone with more dexterity and energy than he could summon, the reality was he was heart-sore and for a while lost his will to do more than just sit around the school and get under Severus' feet.

I didn't mind--too much. You were just burned-out. And I got Lenore back as my assistant. I knew she'd take pity on me when you retired. Colin was a good Deputy Headmaster, but he's so... Well, I needed someone a bit more subtle. Like you, Lenore knew what I wanted--before I formed the thoughts.

Remus Lupin resumed teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was comforting to have Remus around; as a werewolf, he would live for a very, very long time. When Sirius unexpectedly died helping a wizarding family escape a Muggle war-zone, Remus had been devastated to lose his best friend and confidant. Thinking of all the friends they'd already lost over the years, and how many more Remus would live to see pass on, Harry realised anew why Arabella's 'sacrifice' (as many saw it) a few decades back was so necessary. By 'taking the bite' and sharing the potion with Remus each full moon, they were at least assured their heart's desires through the centuries they could hope to have together.

Potions had been taken over by Colin Longbottom, the grandson of Neville and Ginny Longbottom, who'd inherited Neville's sweet temper and reserve with Ginny's fiery hair and greater power. Guess the Weasley genes tell after all, he thought craning his neck to look back at them in the audience. Ginny gave him a broad smile; Neville was transfixed by Severus' speech and didn't notice the exchange. Glancing sideways at Neville with long-standing patience, Ginny gave Harry a saucy wink before pointedly returning her attention back to the front of the room.

Harry turned around and smiled. In addition to teaching, Colin and his many assistants made all the potions required by the school, although Harry and Severus (until a few months ago) still made the Wolfsbane Potion themselves; they'd just finished teaching Colin the ancient formula and complicated spells along with the modifications they'd made over the years. The Lupins had been willing test subjects as well as staunch friends. Each new batch had further mitigated their symptoms until now, the full moon was nothing more than an tiring inconvenience. They could live with that.

Harry noticed Colin standing off to the side with his wife, Dana, by his side.

Severus? Did you see Colin's 'startled' look yesterday when he first heard Dana? Ah, poor Colin, take your rest now, you'll need it in the coming months! he thought with a wicked chuckle.

Startled? Severus chuffed. More like controlled panic. Can't wait to hear what the castle does with them; it's grown just a tad too accustomed to our more... eccentric habits, Severus thought at him with an ironic laugh. He's so reserved, although she's all right; it'll be quite a--stretch--for them to fill our collective shoes.

Eccentric? Harry smiled. You're ever the master of understatement. That was quite a little fight yesterday.

Nothing like a little stubbornness to get the blood moving... At Harry's sardonic stare, he amended, Well, almost nothing.

You going to let him off the hook tonight?

Hardly. I'd rather deal with his consternation than your irritation if we're delayed even one day. You always were an impatient whelp. His mental chuckle rang through Harry's head.

I'll remind you of that, the next time we... he threw over to Severus a rather graphic image of what he had in mind.

Oh! Is that a promise or a threat? I'll take either.

Um, Severus, your guests are staring at you. I think you're supposed to be speaking, not staring off into space. Did I hit a--nerve--or something?

Resuming his speech, Severus glared at Harry and with a raised brow, thought, Inarticulate Prat. With that the connection broke.

Never one to take the spotlight, Harry gazed at his husband from the sidelines as was his preference. Like any lover, he saw only the man with whom he'd fallen in love, at his prime and unshadowed with time. Though rarely felt, the whispers of old age spoke most in the early morning and late evening hours when creaking bones didn't move so fast and loving became more deliberate caresses and subtle movements than the fast and hot quickening of their youth. With smouldering touches born of an intimate knowledge of their pleasure and with surprising health for their ages, they continued to please each other in a thoughtful fashion.

Unless they quarrelled.

They fought, though not often, great rousing rows that sometimes resounded throughout the castle as the magic they unwittingly released in their anger coursed through the very stones. During those times, feeling the trembles under their feet, the staff would smile knowingly and wait for a good long while after the tremors ceased before they even thought about approaching either one of them.

Usually their arguments started when one or the other was being stubborn about letting the other one know what was on their mind. Severus shutting him out of their mental contact made Harry's blood boil; Harry hiding something from him in the recesses of his mind made Severus want to spit. The quarrels never lasted very long and afterwards... Harry smiled. Well, afterwards is always the best part. The depth and enthusiasm of their 'making-up' was directly related to how violent the row had been in the first place.

He felt Severus' smile, wicked man.

If Harry found anything lacking in their relationship, it was the dichotomy they'd endured to fulfil societal propriety. The insults and acerbic wit they habitually traded, almost by reflex, were the mantle under which they hid their devotion when out in the harsh public glare. In private, when emotions overwhelmed them, that levity siphoned off the uncomfortable need to examine just how deep those feelings ran. Significant glances and the unspoken words and touches exchanged in their heads became the safety valve on which they depended to keep their privacy from grotty, prying eyes.

Some things never change with time, he thought, bitterly.

You ask too much of them, love.

After all the good we've done, is it too much to ask for them to finally accept our relationship?

Obviously, it is.

So we'll never be free of the shackles they've imposed on us from the very beginning?

Not so long as we live in the world they've devised.

Good thing we're leaving it, then, isn't it.

Indeed.

TBC