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

Part II : Dearly Departed
Save Me From The Nothing I've Become

They returned to the castle. Walking up the steps had never been so hard, each step taking him further away from Severus.

Severus!

Still on either side of him, Ron and Hermione helped him into the main entry. Harry stopped and straightened when he saw what awaited them. Stretching from the front door and far into the distance to the stairway and beyond, stood the students lined up single file on both sides of the corridor, forming an honour guard to see Harry home.

With faces much too young to be bearing such sorrow, their tears flowed unchecked, except for the Slytherins, who were the first House represented. The aggrieved eyes in sober faces paid tribute to his now-silent grief, their straight and proud stance a fitting testimony to the headmaster and former Head of House they'd lost. Almost as one, they turned their heads towards him and, in the finest Slytherin tradition, they bowed.

Harry checked his steps and hesitated, about to say something, when he heard Severus' voice in his head. Don't tarnish our traditions with mere words. You know what to do.

So he nodded and stayed silent, meeting each one's steady gaze with one of his own as he passed them. When he reached the end, he turned and faced their former Heads of House, Sinistra and Colin. With Severus' memories of the ritual filling his head, he held their sad eyes with his and deeply bowed to them. Turning with precision to survey Severus' Slytherins, their eyes gleaming with unshed tears, he let one tear fall unchecked and, running his eyes down the long lines, he bowed once, turned on his heel, and never looked back.

He would not disgrace their now free-falling tears by witnessing them.

The Ravenclaws were quickly followed by the Hufflepuffs. As he'd done with the Slytherins, he looked each one in the eye as he passed; so many of them he knew by name. Both groups were crying silently as well, their gaze following his slow progress up the hall and beyond.

At the stairs, he encountered his own beloved Gryffindors. He slowly made his way up, step by step, stopping to acknowledge each and every one of them, knowing them all by name as their Head of their House. Each nod, each heartfelt glance, the occasional touch, especially to the little ones and his Prefects, told them how much he cherished them. And in return, they each touched hands to head and heart and bowed their heads; it was all he could do not to break down in front of them, but found comfort in their gesture.

Passing the last of the students, he'd only the Head Boy and Head Girl to greet.

He stopped before them as they guarded the entrance to his quarters and, with a rare show of raw emotion, he swept both of them into an embrace, catching their tears in his robes. They were his, the only two he still taught; their support meant as much to him as any of his friends.

Both were progeny of The Trio's union. Altus and Althea, twins in the finest Weasley tradition. Their godchildren, the twins were a near-perfect amalgam of their heritage. With flaming red hair--and temper to match--Altus stood tall, his piercing grey eyes could see straight into one's soul. With her fine white hair so much like Draco's, Althea's blazing blue eyes hid a keen intellect... and power--wild, raw power almost equal to Harry's; together, they were unstoppable. They'd kept him young as he'd taught them the control they'd need to fulfil their destiny.

For they were the chosen heirs, their training received at his and Severus' hands since they were infants. Altus, the Slytherin and Althea, the Gryffindor, they would assume Hogwarts after Colin and Dana. Not exactly a dynasty, rather a long-term plan for succession finally bearing fruit.

Today, however, they were merely two teenagers mourning the loss of someone as close as a father, a man who'd shared not only his knowledge but his affection. Gently releasing them, Harry's blurred eyes told them silently how much he cared. Standing straight and proud, they leant over and kissed his cheek. With choked emotion, they returned to either side of the door; they would keep him safe.

Turning, he stepped into their quarters. Memories overwhelmed him, and he would have fallen had not Remus and Ron caught him.

Hermione closed the door firmly behind them after a quick word and a hug with her great-grandchildren. Motioning to Seth standing nearby, she murmured, "He can't stay here, you know. He needs to be somewhere else, somewhere without all the memories."

"Where can we take him, Mum?" Seth replied. "Is there any place in all of Hogwarts that won't bring back memories?"

"No, I suppose you're right. But damn it, he can't stay here!" She pointed to Harry on his knees, his body shaking. Remus and Ron stood helpless, uncertain what they should do. Arabella knelt in front of Harry and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her lips near his ear as she whispered softly to him.

"Let's get him to the infirmary," Seth said hoarsely. "At least there I've potions to ease his distress. Perhaps then we can decide how best to help him."

Sitting off to the side of the infirmary's private room, Dana watched Colin with weary amusement as she wondered if he would wear a rut in the floor with his pacing. Back and forth he traversed the small room, his heavy steps a clear indicator of an inner turmoil, one she could well understand as it matched her own.

Something was amiss, what she couldn't say, but she knew deep inside her it wasn't supposed to be this way, so silent. When they'd transferred the wards, the castle's noisy intrusion had proved an unwelcome distraction until she'd settled it in her own mind. But this morning after the funeral, when the last clod of earth had splattered across the top of Severus' casket, the castle's inner voice had suddenly ceased, leaving a gaping void where once had been an almost cheerful chatter.

Confounded by the castle's sudden silence, it was no wonder he was confused. And she knew confusion irritated her husband. His was an ordered world and the unexpected never sat well with him. He planned, not reacted; it was the Slytherin in him.

His long legs making short work of the distance, Colin waited impatiently for them to arrive. It was only logical they should come here; Harry, bless his soul, wouldn't do well in their rooms. Hell, he wouldn't do well in their private quarters if this had happened to Dana, the memories would be too raw to bear alone. He quickly turned away from that thought; life without her... He glanced in her direction, reassuring himself she was still there. Blue eyes to brown, she smiled at him in understanding.

Colin felt very unprepared. He hated to be unprepared. There was supposed to have been a transfer of knowledge with the transfer of the Wards. They'd not received it. Severus was supposed to have filled in the gaps; Harry was in no position to do so. So Colin paced, his concern growing with each step. And waited. And paced.

Dana looked on with her habitual serenity. She was rarely bothered by the unknown as she'd found so much of it over the years, especially in the last few days. She wasn't inclined to worry about things over which she had no control. She faced what she faced when she faced it. She reacted, not planned; it was the Gryffindor in her.

They were perfect foils to each other.

He whirled around at the sound of people flooing out of the fireplace, his long robes following him in a swirl he'd discovered Dana secretly admired. He stopped his pacing as Seth and Remus stepped off the hearth, a dazed Harry between them. Gods, he looks awful, so old. He never looked this old, this used-up before, he thought and then berated himself the same way Dana would have, had he been foolish enough to say it out loud, for being such an unfeeling git.

They walked Harry slowly to the bed. He stumbled; Seth caught him fast, his arm around Harry's shoulders as he gently guided the frail frame to the edge of the mattress. Leaning into the touch, Harry murmured, "So cold. So very cold. Can't we have a fire in here? Severus, why is it so damn cold in here? What did you do to piss it off? Did the castle move us back in the dungeons or maybe the roof?"

Ron and Hermione chuckled with the memory of the incident right after he'd been made Headmaster, when Severus' things had been moved to the roof by the annoyed castle; the others, having no knowledge of it, stared at Harry as if he were a madman.

Seth swiftly grabbed the sleeping potion off the shelf near the bed. After removing the cork, he gently gave it to Harry, who downed it unseeing, purely by habit. In taking the bottle back from Harry, Seth's hand grazed his and the feel of Harry's hand triggered his healing senses. With a sharp exclamation, he dropped the bottle on the floor and, gently coaxing Harry flat on the bed, began to examine the limp form, his senses fully extended.

With each pass of his hands, his face grew grimmer. He muttered a few testing spells and with the results they revealed, he hung his head. Taking Harry's hot hand briefly, he patted it before placing it back on the bed and steeled himself to face the questioning faces behind him.

Alarmed, the others watched tensely until he finished. He turned concerned eyes to them and dropped his shoulders with a heavy sigh. In an instant they all knew what was wrong; Harry had the fever. Upset with fresh grief, the seven friends settled in for another vigil.

o0o

Harry stood in a grassy meadow. 'No, more like an estate lawn,' he thought, awed by the wide expanse of smooth green, its gentle hills unbroken to the horizon. Against the deep blue of a cloudless sky, a figure rapidly approached him.

Excitement coursed through his veins at the sight of the black billowing robes, the loose measured steps, the purposeful flow of a familiar body gracefully making its way to him. Only to him. Closer and closer he drew, the swelling robes and Severus' fluid black hair flying with every step sent shivers of desire through him. His eyes fixed on his husband, he found himself unable to move.

Black hair? He looked closely and saw that Severus was young, as young as when they'd first joined. Staring at his own hands, he saw the blue-veined crepey skin of his old age and, in that moment, sadly realised this was only a dream.

"Well, not entirely a dream," Severus said, standing before him. "Welcome to the outskirts of the Hinterlands."

"You're real?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Well, no, not really. Yet. Consider this a type of 'Limbo', I believe the Muggle theists call it."

Harry reached out a hand to caress Severus' face, mystified as to why he'd made no move before this to touch him. His hand passed right through and out the other side. He quickly pulled back, staring at it. Oddly disjointed, his frustration bordered on anger.

His gaze longing, Severus said gently, "And that's why I didn't even try." His eyes brimming, he added, "Albus warned me this would happen, he just forgot to mention how much it would hurt."

"Albus is here?" Harry asked.

"Yes, His Twinkliness managed to make it this far, and he's still a right pain in the arse. Nothing changes here, just what we are, not who we are," he added cryptically.

"Where is here?"

"I'll forgive you your lapse. I really should know better by now. Albus is still an ass and you're still inattentive. We're near the Hinterlands, surely someone taught you about that."

"Well, it's been mentioned, but it is only a legend. I mean no one ever comes back to sell their story to Witches Weekly." Surreal, this was definitely surreal.

Severus chuckled. "Probably not a bad thing, adds spice to life wondering whether one is going to the Hinterlands or the Underworld, which by the way, really is a myth."

"So I'm dead?"

"Hmm. I am, but you're not quite. I do wish you'd pay attention. This is not the Hinterlands. Limbo? Ring any bells?"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember, but as a mere mortal, I tend to forget these things."

Severus threw his hands up into the air and with a joyful shout to the heavens cried, "Finally! Finally, he realises his proper place in the universe." He raised a brow. "Only took you a century or so."

With a derisive snort, Harry retorted, "Uh-huh, and who was it who told me one night to 'Stop--Stop, I'm only a man!'?"

"If memory serves, you were doing something one couldn't expect even the gods to tolerate for long," he said with hunger.

Raising an eyebrow, Harry said, "So you hated it?"

"Even with eternal life, I'm not certain I would survive you doing that again," Severus rejoined, admitting defeat.

"Speaking of everlasting life, why are we here?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Do you remember transferring the Wards to Colin and Dana?"

"Do I ever. For a while there, I didn't think we were going make it."

"Well, we didn't. Not completely, that is. And that's the problem."

"What!?"

o0o

TBC