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Harry never thought life was fair to him. Not once was his happiness not cruelly snatched away. He thought, in his ignorance, that with Voldemort dead the universe would stop taking and taking and taking, but yet here he was.
The gravel crunched under his foot as he walked up the path, his legs struggling through the permanent jelly-legs curse that seemed to face him daily, finally stopping when he reached the lake. A boat sat by the edge, and Harry’s heart twinged.
At twenty three, he would have thought the world would finally leave him alone to live but Harry should have realised, everything was too good to be true.
~
“We’re sorry, but the curse was too strong. He’s gone.”
The words echoed in Harry’s head, but he couldn’t believe it. “No.” He whispered quietly. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t have been. Harry had seen him merely an hour earlier, smiling and full of life. He had gone shopping, that’s all. Not this. Not what the healers were telling him.
Harry was convinced that it was all a bad joke, and they’d all turn round and laugh together about how silly such an idea was that he’d be dead. But no one was laughing, and he didn’t come back.
~
Harry stood at the front, staring away from the boat and instead pretended to be fascinated by the fir trees in the distance. Harry had to admit, the scenery was breathtaking. He would have been able to appreciate it more away from the current situation.
The ceremony had started and it was beautiful, the conductor was saying his favourite poems and quotes, just what he had asked for. Harry always hated the way he would plan everything for when he was gone, but maybe he knew that he didn’t have long left. Harry only wished he’d been let in on the secret, and then maybe he would have been able to say goodbye properly.
~
“Harry, please, stop!”
“Why should I?!” Harry yelled back and smashed another plate on the tiled floor. “I hate this fucking world! I hate it!” Harry threw a glass against the wall, watching the shards rain down on the floor, sparkling in the light. Harry didn’t see the point in it all anymore. What was the point of having the crockery if the person he brought them with when they moved into their house wouldn’t be there?
“I know it’s not fair-”
“Fair?!” Harry repeated before they had the chance to finish what they were saying. “When is my life ever fucking fair?!” He snapped and kicked the dining table as hard as he could, the wood splintering under the pressure. What was the point of the table if the person he’d sit with for dinner every night would never sit there again?
“None of this is going to help!”
Harry didn’t care. He broke another bowl to prove his point. But there was only so much damage he could do to release his bottled up anger. He always could get angry easily, but now the person who was always there to calm him down was gone.
Tears were rolling down his cheek. Harry didn’t know when he had started to cry, having accepted the tears a long time ago, them being so frequent that he wouldn’t even realise they were there. His vision blurred slightly as he looked around at the mess he’d made; the life he once had.
Harry slid down the wall to the floor, not caring that he was now sitting on shattered glass and china. His cries were quiet compared to his angry yells. Warm arms wrapped around him, hugging him as he cried.
~
It was a cold, windy day. Harry wanted to think that was the reason he was shaking, but he knew that wasn’t the case. His hair was flying all over the place like usual, and he couldn’t
They asked Harry to say a few words but he couldn’t say anything, his mouth just opened and shut in any attempt before he just broke down crying in front of the small audience.
Harry was surprised when he said he wanted it small, saying he didn’t mind that not many people would care to go, which was such a contrast to the man who loved big parties with tons of people.
Harry remembered one of the first parties they hosted together. They’d gotten so drunk that night, Harry was shocked when he still had some memories of the night, but it had to be one of the best nights with his lover, one that he’d do anything to repeat.
Harry looked around at the people again. There was only ten people, including Harry and the conductor. Harry guessed he only wanted the people that truly meant something to him there, and it always saddened Harry how little that actually was. Though, come to think of it, Harry would have done the same thing, not wanting an event so monumental to be treated as a social gathering.
~
“I should have gone with him.” Harry said quietly, not bothering to look up from his lap, fiddling with his hands absent-mindedly.
“Harry, don’t do this to yourself.”
“No. I should have gone with him.” Harry repeated firmly and looked at the person in their eyes, wanting to emphasize what he meant. “I should have been there to protect him.”
“He never let you protect him.”
Harry let himself smile a little at the memory. He was always so stubborn, and hated it whenever Harry tried to protect him from the hating public, whether it was about his own past or his relationship with Harry. Harry’s smile dropped. Maybe if he was less stubborn he’d still be here with Harry.
“I’d do anything to swap places with him.” He admitted to himself almost inaudibly, wishing hard that he could. If he could get his hands on a time turner, he would swap places, or even prevent it from ever happening. But life wasn’t fair, and his wish would never be granted.
~
Harry had been given the honours of completing the final part of the ceremony instead of the conductor, which meant Harry had to start the beginning of the end. The only reason Harry agreed to it was because, out of all the requests, this one was the one he was most passionate about.
He stepped into the shallow water, not caring that all clothing below his knees was now soaking wet. He stood at the side of the boat and looked in, seeing the motionless body lying so peacefully. His features looked softer than ever, which was saying something. His face wasn’t smirking, or frowning, or pouting, or in pain; it was emotionless but so much more.
Harry reached into the boat, his fingertips brushing the smooth cold skin. His breath hitched. He had always been cold but never this cold. Harry smiled sadly at the pale body. Despite everything, he looked beautiful. He was wearing the dress robes that Harry always said looked amazing on him, and his hair was styled neater than Harry would ever be able to get his own hair, but that’s how it always was, and always will be.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Harry nodded when he heard the voice behind him and leaned to kiss his lips, wishing this could be a weird retelling of Snow White, a tear falling and landing on his porcelain cheek. Gently, Harry wiped away the tear before stepping away and out of the water, but never turning his back on the boat.
He raised his wand and slowly, the boat sailed away to the middle of the small lake. The scene looked so tranquil, it was so perfect for him.
Harry tried to smile goodbye as he cried silently. He closed his eyes, trying to get into the right mindset before opening them again and staring determinedly at the boat. He had to get this right, for him.
“Incendio.”
~
Harry stayed curled up in bed, refusing to move unless he needed to go to the toilet or occasionally eat. He wouldn’t be doing anything ever again, so why should Harry?
At first, the bed smelled like him a lot, but the more time Harry spent it in, the more the fragrance of hair products, expensive cologne and apple shower gel faded away.
“You can’t live like this, it’s not what he would have wanted.”
Harry heard the voice speak quietly from the door, but ignored them and continued staring at the ceiling, something he used to do every morning and night, but with someone else lying beside him.
“Harry. The funeral is later today.”
Harry knew it was, he wasn’t likely to forget, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go. Funerals were always the worst, there was no going back from them, and they meant moving on. Harry didn’t want to move on, he just wanted him back.
Harry looked over to where his dress robes were hanging up, ready for the funeral. He wanted to cry, but it seemed like he’d run out of tears, he was just an empty shell.
“Do what he wanted you to.” Harry told himself quietly, psyching himself up for the painful day ahead.
~
Whenever Harry felt alone, he’d go to the lake and sit there for a while. It was hard continuing with life, but the lake always was a place that made him carry on. It was like being close to him again.
Harry sat with his feet in the water and made gentle ripples with his hands in the cold lake, which was the closest thing to holding his hand.
Every time he returned to the lake, he felt like someone was around him, a warmth always on Harry’s back, like being hugged from behind. But this time, the warmth wasn’t on Harry’s back. He felt the warmth on his left hand in the water and lifted it to see the gold wedding ring on his fourth finger. He absolutely hated taking it off because it was his link to him, but something inside of him told him to do it, and it had never come off so easily before.
He looked at it in his palm. It was shining so bright and Harry didn’t know why; it wasn’t even sunny that day.
It was never fair, how that stranger had ruined his life with one spell, just because he hated death eaters. People changed, people moved on; and now it was time for Harry to do the same.
This ring signified everything holding him back from starting again. It was the thing that defined him as a widower, lost without his dead husband. He thought back to him, remembering the times he always told Harry to forget about him when he was gone and be happy with someone else, yet here Harry was holding onto the marriage when there was nothing left.
With one last look at the ring, Harry threw it into the centre of the lake with a splash and watched as slowly, the water turned still again. He felt like the lake was smiling at him and his hand grew warm, like someone was holding it. He looked to see no one there.
Harry knew whatever it was (or whoever it was) would always be there, just like the lake would forever be the place he’d turn when sad or lonely or maybe even if he wanted to talk to something that wouldn’t reply with words but talk back in its own special way. However, now was the time to move on, and both Harry and the lake knew that.
“Goodbye, Draco .” Harry smiled and slowly stepped out of the lake, about to turn away but he had one more thing to say before he left. “I will always love you.” Harry felt the warmth on his heart before it faded into him and he walked away.
To Harry, it was the most magical lake in the world.