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

Part None : Prologue
Love Me When I'm Gone

"Harry," a soft voice spoke from his right. "Harry, it's time." Soft hands gently placed on his arm drew him away.

Away.
Away from Severus.

"No!"

"Harry, it's time to go," the persistent voice insisted, the soft hands still tugging on his arm.

"Harry, don't do this, you have to let go," a deeper voice said from his other side. Strong hands gripped his arm. More touches from behind.

Let go?
No. No, I don't want to go.
I want to stay here, stay with Severus.
Severus!

Damn you, Severus, where did you go?
Why Aren't You Here? With Me?

Alone. Oh gods, alone.
So long since I've been alone, you were always there, ever a part of my mind.

Dizzy... falling... falling...
Got to go to Severus.

"Harry! No!" Strong arms grabbed him, stopped him from falling into the still open grave. Pulling him back, back to--

Workers in the distance, shovels ready, watching the tableau incuriously; they'd seen it all before.

--reality. Looking up from the grave, he saw the misty sky. Even the sky weeps for my Severus, he thought with some satisfaction. He stared at the woman with her lined face and silver hair and the tall stooped man standing beside him, fascinated by his snowy hair, full snowy beard, and snowy blue eyes.

Albus? He shook his head. No, Albus is dead. Has been for years. Who were all these people?

He couldn't remember.

"Harry, we must go back to the castle," the voices insisted.

Soft and firm hands, softly spoken voices pulled him away, turning him to walk across the damp grass down by the lake. A shudder passed through him, the grief threatening to swallow him whole.

My soul, he took my soul with him.

"I am nothing now."

"Hush, Harry," the soft voice soothed. "It will be all right. Come with us. That's it... one step at a time."

Harry, that's who I am... was.
I am nothing now. He's gone.
Can't feel him.
Can't touch him.
I'm not real anymore.

For the first time in the few days since Severus had taken ill, he cried. He stumbled on a blurry rock and started to fall. The voices and hands stopped walking, catching his gaunt body before it could strike the ground. Warm arms enveloped him from the front, strong arms from behind; in the misty rain they held him lovingly, tightly, as he poured his soul out with their tears. The embrace was different, wrong somehow, but he couldn't fathom why.

Can't think without him.
Can't concentrate.
My mind is not my own anymore.
Half of it is gone.

"Can't think..."

"What, Harry?" the woman asked, pulling away.

"Can't think," he repeated, choking on his tears.

They continued walking. In the distance even the castle looked forlorn, the banners all black.

Did I change the banners?
I remember doing so once before.

The students in their dark robes crowded the windows.

Can't stop my mind, so many memories.

Disjointed images flashed across his mind's eye, the feast and famine of a long life. Kaleidoscope images, shifting wildly as he tried to collect them.

A wild wedding... Severus' whispered "I love you" spoken for the first time, completing a heart he'd thought already full... A funeral... Two people clinging to each other... watching them, not really understanding their loss... stupidly thinking they would be all right since they still had each other... a birth, the memory fading as he tried to remember something important about it.

He stared at his hands for answers. Startled, he saw Old Man Hands. "When did we all get so old?" he asked aloud.

He heard a chuckle. Another old woman, a half-smile on her tear-streaked face said in a passable imitation of Severus' sarcasm, "We didn't get old, Harry. They just got too young."

He remembered that now, just as he knew her name was Ginny. Ginny. Ginny and Neville's Wedding... and Severus' laughter. Something about their laughter... Their wedding night gift... Severus' idea, that one, wicked man.

Severus always did have the good ideas--was always thinking.

"I was always the one behind," he said diffidently.

"No, you weren't. You just thought differently than he did," came a soft reply.

Startled, he looked at her, the face and body old, but the eyes, the dark eyes--oh, so young. He remembered her. They could still read each other, even after all these years. "He always enjoyed talking with you, Hermione. And Draco." He winced when he saw the shadow pass over her face. "He always said you were the 'brightest crayon in the box'."

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "I know, but he loved you... and no one else," she replied softly, her hand gripping his arm tighter, her eyes widening in alarm as he slid back into himself, back to a time he wasn't so alone.

Her eyes... dark eyes... filled with love...

A large hole threatened to engulf him. He started to sag, somehow knowing the voices with their strong but oddly gentle hands would keep him from falling, falling into the void, following Severus.

It's not fair.
You promised you'd never leave me!
Why?

"Why?" he cried plaintively to the heavens.

His broken heart heard only silence.

TBC