Too Many Goodbyes

Too Many Good Byes

I know it's hard Harry, but try to understand.

He had been stewing over this former conversation for some time now. And had decided, for someone only sixteen years of age, he had heard that word far too many times in his short life. Understand what? That he was gone? That he was never going to come back? That he'd never even said goodbye, but instead just vanished? How could he, Harry, understand any of this when no one was bothering to explain anything to him?

It angered him immensely and, incidentally, the only thing he really understood these days was that he was pissed off. At everyone.

A sudden knock at the door roused him from his simpering thoughts. He watched as the handle clicked and turned as the door swung open to reveal Remus standing in the grim light of the hallway.

"Erm, Harry, it's time to go."

Ever the one to offer words of comfort, thought Harry sarcastically and nearly let out a derisive snort.

Remus was dressed in his best robes - which wasn't actually saying much. They wore still worn and frayed around the edges. But Harry liked him that way though - as if the robes were an extension of Remus' personality - well worn, yet comfortable.

Harry grunted in response and got to his feet. Walking slowly, he passed through the doorway and felt Remus pat him on the shoulder in a comforting manner.

They walked side by side into the cavernous kitchen. He had loved this kitchen. Many times Harry and he had shared conversations had been in this kitchen. Sitting tilted back on his chair, sort of like the time Harry had seen him in a pensieve. But in this kitchen, he always had listened to Harry vehemently, the glowing light of the kitchen fire flickering over his face, creeping into the hollows of his cheeks and lighting up his eyes.

That had been a happy time. They were becoming fewer and farther apart with each passing day.

Harry had wished he could go back in time, to undo what had happened. To inform his former self of what was to come. To kill her before she had dulled and killed him, the person that had meant so much to him. The person that had only meant anything to him.

He had tried to find a time turner even, but to no avail. These days, he was watched like a hawk by all.

As they entered, the rumbling conversations that Harry had heard from the hallway fell silent.

"Harry dear, you look very smart," smiled Mrs. Weasley in what she hoped was a realistic manner. It pulled her apart to see Harry so torn, so pained, acting like he had nothing to live for.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," Harry mumbled back.

"Right! I think that's everyone," said Remus, clasping his hands together and looking around at the group.

They were assembled; all of them, in the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry and Lupin and the Weasleys with Hermione.

Harry kept his head down, pretending to be fascinated in his shoes. Ron and Hermione knew better than to start a conversation with him these days unless they felt like getting their heads bitten off. He hardly ever spoke unless spoken to.

He was too consumed in his own thoughts. His own grief. His own despair.

"All right, the portkey is set up so we best be on our way." Lupin placed an old wooden barstool on the top of the table and everyone reached out to touch it.

Sighing deeply, Harry felt a slight tug behind his navel...

And then they were there.

At the graveyard.

He took his seat in between Remus and Mrs. Weasley. Having a sneaking suspicion that they had planned it like that all along. As if they didn't trust him and what he could do. To be honest, he wasn't too sure what he was capable of himself.

He looked around him, disinterested in his surroundings. A fumble of chairs had been set up in the corner of the cemetery, and he noticed they were sitting in the first row. Everyone attending seemed to be Order members. There was a podium set up to the front of the small gathering, at which Dumbledore was standing.

Dumbledore.

Not exactly Harry's favourite person at that moment in time. Harry watched him for a few seconds, and got the distinct impression that Dumbledore was watching him too - without actually looking.

Harry made a disgusted noise and looked back down at his shoes. To the right of his left shoe, three daisies were growing in a crooked line. He demolished them with one quick stomp.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and Harry raised his eyes a little as the hubbub of hushed voices fell quiet.

"Good afternoon. I'm very grateful that so many of you could attend today, what with the precious little free time we loan ourselves these days."

Harry snorted. Why was Dumbledore making this seem like some sort of chore?

"We all know why we are here today. To mourn, celebrate, acknowledge and honour a great friend, colleague and confidant. A fiercely loyal companion, I dare say Sirius would not have wanted this any other way. As a true Gryffindor, dying for those he loved and cherished with all of his being. Someone he would have -"

Harry stood up ferociously. This was utter nonsense.

"Harry," Remus began quietly.

"You're wrong," Harry said to Dumbledore, his voice shaking, but yet quite firm. "He was a stupid git for doing what he did."

The guests gasped. Ron gaped like a goldfish whilst Hermione buried her face in her hands. Dumbledore observed Harry over his half-moon spectacles.

"Harry," Remus tried again. "Please sit down."

"No. I'm sick of all you saying how much of a hero he was. He wasn't! He was a daft fool and so was I!"

He knew he was losing it. He had to get out of this situation. As he felt the familiar hot pricks tickle the corner of his eyes, he began walking, ignoring the calls of Lupin.

He kept walking until he could no longer hear nor see the cluster of chairs, the people or Dumbledore anymore.

Suddenly, he felt very tired and halted in the middle of an aisle of graves. He slumped onto the grass and yanked out a blade.

Looking around at the headstones, he decided that this was definitely a magical cemetery. Some headstones were sculptures, just like in Muggle cemeteries. But, unlike the big angels that adorned those headstones, there were sculptures of wizards and witches, similar to the ones he had seen in that fountain back at the ministry.

He shook his head. He wasn't going to think about that. Not now. Not ever.

The thing he noticed was that each of these sculptures was different. Like they were of real people that had perished.

There was a particularly curious one a little further down to his right. Of two young people. A witch and a wizard, standing together. A double grave.

Harry walked to it.

Coming face to face with life-sized stone sculptures of your parents was a scary thing, he decided.

They were holding hands and looking at each other. Smiling. Maybe even laughing. Harry got the distinct impression that this had possibly been emulated from a photo.

They stood on top of a stone cube, which had an engraved message upon it.

In Remembrance:
Gone, but never forgotten.
In memory of Lily and James Potter, 1960-1981.
Fearlessly fought and died for the one they loved beyond anything else.

Harry reached out and grasped the stone hand of his mother. It was hard and felt grainy and cold.

He sat back down cross-legged on the grass in front of his parents' grave, wishing he had bought some daisies, wondering why no-one had told him of this before.

"I knew you'd be here," came a voice from behind him. Remus' voice.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Harry asked.

"I meant to...there just never seemed to be an appropriate time."

"There never is," Harry mumbled back, brushing his hand across the engraved words.

"It's very difficult to come here by yourself...I'm glad you're here with me this time."

"It's very difficult to discover your parents grave for the first time," retorted Harry, his back still to Lupin.

They stayed in their positions, Harry sitting at the base of the grave with Remus behind him, not speaking for a while.

"They look happy," said Harry finally.

"They were...Very happy...You made them happy."

Harry snorted. "I also killed them."

"No you didn't," scoffed Remus hastily.

"Yes I did...I killed him too."

"Harry," began Remus for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

"Everyone should stop assuming that they all died for this great noble cause! They didn't! I'm not a noble cause! They're stupid - they should have saved themselves!"

"Do you think that would have made them happy?" Asked Remus quickly, silencing the tangent.

Harry stopped.

Remus brushed his hand over the engraved eulogy. "It says here they died fighting for the one they loved beyond anything else. Do you think love is stupid, Harry?"

"I...no."

Remus paused. "He loved you too. Beyond anything. You made him happy when there was not much left in his world that could. He loved you. Yes, there may have been a deadly mistake in his decision making, but it would have been unlikely to stop him even if he knew of it. He loved you. That's all that matters."

Harry breathed in a sharp breath of despair. "That just makes it hurt more," he whispered.

"I know...I know, Harry." And suddenly Remus was sitting beside him, "There have been...far too many good byes...but do you know, they're not really good byes as such, but rather, see you laters. Do you understand?"

There was that word again.

"No...I don't think I do," replied Harry.

Lupin sighed. "I wont pretend to know the secrets of death, Harry, none of us here honestly can. But when you truly love someone, they never really leave you."

Harry stifled a tear that was threatening to leak out from his tired eyes.

"I know it hurts, but I think that's good. It's a reminder of sorts that they haven't left completely... You just have to learn to use it in a positive way, I think."

Slowly, Harry nodded.

"Shall we go back?" he asked Remus after a few moments.

"If you want."

"Can we come back here though...every now and then...to say hi?"

" Of course."

They got to their feet.

Harry turned to the sculpted image of his parents and placed his hand on top of Lily and James' clasped ones.

"Good B - See you later, Mum, Dad...Sirius."