Come What May

Come What May

Susie Bones

July, 2002

Harry Potter.

The Boy Who Lived.

That is what it says on your gravestone, only two lines out of the rest of the inscription. That is what the Ministry wanted. I do not like it there. You did not like your fame when you were alive and now it follows you even in death.

Harry.

My darling Harry.

I hate to be standing here, looking down at the inscription of your grave. Even as I reach down and touch the cold, somewhat forbidding stone, I think that this is not real. None of this is real. There is no possible way you can be dead while I live. You were supposed to live, Harry. Who cares about me? I was just in love with you since our first year, that's all. You were the famous one, the cherished one. And I was the one who would follow you anywhere. But you have gone somewhere I cannot follow you. Oh, I suppose I could, yet I have much left to do here. I will follow you, one day, Harry, please believe that. I desperately want to right now, you have no idea how badly I wish to see your face once more.

Oh, Harry, how I long to have you standing in front of me. To have your arms wrapped around me, to have your lips against my own. Only one kiss did we share and how I want more. I know, Harry, I know I am engaged, I know soon I will be married to another and all because I was too stupid to tell you how I felt. Too scared you might not feel the same. And how foolish I was to let that other go on believing a lie.

I remember the night all of our friends went dancing in Hogsmeade. You held me close, whispering the words to the song in my ear. And it occurred to me how perfectly we fit together. How my head only came up to your shoulder, yet how the slight indent there was the perfect size for my head. That was our sixth year, Harry. Last year. How tall you had gotten! I remember when I first met you, you were no more than a midget in glasses. And by seventeen you were a head taller than everyone else at school. Except for Ron, of course.

It occurred to me that night we were meant for each other. I pulled away to look into your eyes and saw something reflected in them that I had not seen since...well, since first year. Always in your green eyes was warmth towards me, and happiness and that bright dancing light that never seemed to go out, even when I was holding your dying body in my arms. Yet, there was something else. Something that I had longed to see ever since that night during our first year, down there among those damned bottles.

And we both knew, Harry. We both knew what we felt for one another was real. So frighteningly real. But, I was dating Ron then. However, that did not seem to matter to anyone, not even you and I. I remember you leaning down and kissing me softly. I was so happy and terrified, I thought my heart was going to burst. It was pounding so hard I was sure (and still am) that you heard it.

We never mentioned that night, did we, Harry? No one saw us, it was a brief kiss, yet the memory of it will last with me forever. You didn't know, Harry, that when I went to bed, I dreamt of kissing you and running my hands through your highly unruly hair. And there were other things I dreamt of, naturally...but now is not the time or the place for that.

The thing is, Harry Potter, I thought that kiss would satisfy me. Instead, it only left me wanting more. And more. Ron never knew. And I do not think he ever will know. Which is just fine. A part of me does not want him to find out.

Funerals are for goodbyes. I suppose that is why I am standing here, remembering.

But, I cannot do it, Harry. I cannot say goodbye. I cannot let you go. I loved you so much, Harry, more than you will ever know. More than you ever will need to. I cannot say it. That word. That stupid "g" word. It...I'm not ready. You are still here with me, Harry. I can hear your laughter in my ear, or telling Ron to bugger off when he says stupid comments, or just talking. The subject makes no difference.

And I can still hear you whispering the words of that Muggle song we danced to in my ear.

Harry, much as I love my parents, I think I would see them dead and in hell just to hold you in my arms one more time. Just to kiss you one last time. I love you so much it scares me. I love you so much I would sacrifice the lives of my parents for you. I love you so much I would kill myself to have you live again.

It should have been me, Harry. Voldemort was going for me as he lay dying on the floor...and you jumped in the way. Why? Why, Harry? Why would you do something like that for me? It was my time, not yours. I would not be sorely missed as you are. You are more important to these people than I can ever hope to be.

Goddammit, Harry! You've done a lot of stupid things in your life, but this has to have been the stupidest. Why couldn't you have let Voldemort take me? You should have let me die and saved yourself. Then, no one would be here, mourning the lost Boy Who Lived. You're so stupid, Harry. Such a complete and utter prat! It should have been me, you and I both know that! You should have let him have me, should have been the one to live. Who cares about me? So I'm smart. Big deal. It doesn't matter, Harry, can you not see that?

Oh.

Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. It...it just sort of slipped out. I believe I am a little angry at the fact that you died while I still live...but I got a little carried away.

Ron is behind me. I just know it. And I am crying. Perfect. Well, he knew. He knew how much I loved you. I think it hurts him to know how much I loved you. But there is nothing I can do. There is nothing any of us can do.

I suppose I should be going now, Harry. I do not want to, but...Ron and I we are going out tonight. As soon as I turn around he is going to tell me it is all right, everything will be all right, Hermione. But I know it is not. It never will be, now that you are gone.

There is not much left to say...except for that word. The word that means I have to let you go. I cannot do that, not just yet. So, instead, I will suffice to say a version of the words you whispered in my ear that night in Hogsmeade.

Come what may, Harry. I will love you until my dying day.

Harry Potter.

The Boy Who Lived.

The Boy Who Should Have Lived.