Goodbyes & Good Cousins
Everything hurt, and then nothing did.
Harry laid in a bed so comfortable he knew there was no way it was real. No bed in the world could be that comfortable. In fact, when Harry opened his eyes, he could see that it wasn’t even a bed at all. Harry was laying on some sort of mist - a cloud? - and nothing seemed to be made of anything more substantial around him.
It was all just mist… mist and clouds and fog…
The longer Harry looked, sitting up rather bemused, the more the mist swirled and Harry began to recognize his surroundings. With the brick building behind him and the tree line across from him, it looked suspiciously like the library a few roads away from the Dursleys house.
Harry was so shocked to be taken from Nevermore to the library where he’d once killed Piers Polkins that he let out a half-mad laugh.
“I’m dead,” Harry said. He held his hands up and could see them clearly even though he didn’t feel his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I’m dead.”
“I think that’s up for debate.”
Harry struggled to his feet, relieved to see that a pair of trousers and a jumper materialized on his body, and peered at a man who came striding through the mist toward him.
The man was tall, at least a full head taller than Harry, and had a head of messy black hair that was even messier when he reached up and rifled a hand through it. He wore an easy smile and walked with confidence.
Harry didn’t need the man to slide a pair of glasses on to know who he was.
Finally, after fourteen years of longing, Harry was meeting James Potter.
And all he had to do was die.
“Dad?” Harry didn’t even think, he just ran directly toward him with his throat constricting and his arms outstretched. It didn’t even occur to him that James wouldn’t catch him, it felt as natural as anything to collapse in his dad‘s arms and be wrapped up in his warm embrace.
“Look at you,” James breathed. He tilted his face down, burying his nose in Harry’s hair. “Just look at you…”
Harry’s entire chest shook with the happiest tears he had ever shed. It was all he could do to stay on his feet, which really said more about James’ strength than Harry’s.
“Dad… Dad…” Harry clung to James tightly, refusing to ever let go. “I love you,” Harry sobbed, terrified he’d only get one chance to say it. “I love you, I love you.”
James chuckled, a rich and deep sound that Harry wanted to bottle up to listen to over and over, and held Harry even tighter.
“I love you,” he said back. “Merlin, Harry, I love you so bloody much it hurts.”
Harry laughed, because how could he not? He had his dad, his dad loved him, and his dad cursed.
The two of them stood there in the same place where Harry first killed someone, soaking in the others appearance, for what felt both like an eternity and no time at all. Eventually though, Harry got control of himself and pulled out of James’ arms enough that he could look up at his face and memorize every single detail.
As handsome as James was in his photos, he was as bright and captivating as the sun in person.
… if Harry could consider this meeting to be in person.
“Look at you,” James grinned. He had a bit of a crooked grin, and his lower lip was a little more full than it looked in pictures, but it was the little things that made him more real. “I can’t believe how grown you are.”
And Harry couldn’t believe how young James was. It was irrefutable proof that his dad had never been out looking for him or faking his own death - James Potter truly had died at just twenty-one.
“You look so much like Lily,” James murmured. He cupped Harry’s cheek and Harry leaned into the touch with a desperate need. “My hair, poor kid, but you’re all Lily.”
“Sirius said I look like you,” Harry said. He searched all over James’ face, noting each similarity he found. Definitely their chin, maybe their jaws if Harry had filled out like James had, and if Harry could smile so easily like James then he thought that might be the same as well.
“Nah.” James ran his finger down the bridge of Harry’s nose then bopped him lightly on the end, drawing an unwilling laugh from Harry. “You’re like a little mini-Lily with my hair. I like the blue though, was that Sirius’ idea?”
“Mine,” Harry admitted bashfully. It wasn’t hard to meet James’ eyes, the challenge would be looking away from them. They were so filled with happiness, with love, that Harry wanted to see them forever.
“It suits you,” James grinned. He slowly sank down and Harry glanced downward briefly enough to see a bench materialize directly beneath them, then he sat next to his dad as close as he could without being in the man’s lap.
“Is- is Mum here?” Harry asked, looking around quickly and seeing no sight of Lily Potter lurking around. He did see a lump of something writhing on the ground beside the library, but it made something in Harry’s stomach twist uncomfortably, so he looked back at his dad instead.
“Not quite,” James said, sobering up. He reached over to grasp Harry’s right hand with his own before stretching his left arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulling him tightly against his side. “She’s- she’s on, Harry. You can’t see her yet.”
“Why?” Harry asked, more than a little disgruntled. “I’m dead, right, Dad? I died?”
James hummed and tilted his head until it touched Harry’s and he rested it there. “Like I said, son, that’s up for debate.”
Harry couldn’t hold back his questions, not then. He’d risk anything to have his questions answered.
“What’s that mean?” Harry asked. “How do I go on? I want to see her too, please.”
James smiled at Harry, but it was sadder than before and Harry knew he said something wrong. Harry always said something wrong.
“You shouldn’t go on yet, Harry,” James said softly with a reassuring hug to Harry’s shoulders. “You’re so young, you’ve got a whole life to live.”
“But I died,” Harry said, a confused tremor in his tone. “Dad, you’re dead, right? And so am I?”
“I’m definitely dead,” James said sadly again. “I’m sorry, Harry, I’d give up almost anything to be with you, but your life isn’t one of those things.”
“So am I just imagining all of this?” Harry asked sadly. “None- none of this is real?”
Of course it wasn’t real, nothing this good really could be. Harry got this moment with his dad, but he’d wake up and James would be gone.
“It’s as real as my love for you is,” James said solemnly. “But you can’t stay. One day, one day we’ll be together again, and until then I need you to get back and take care of Sirius and live a whole life, okay, son? Just…” James choked up and swallowed hard. “Just live, Harry. Look people in their eyes, snog your boyfriend, go on adventures with your cousin. And ask questions, son, ask all the questions you want.”
It was easy for James to say, he was handsome and funny and wore a cheerful smile like Harry wore lips chapped by anxious gnawing.
“I can’t,” Harry told him, ashamed of himself for being so small when James seemed larger than life. “Everything’s so hard.”
“I know, son, I know.” James nuzzled his cheek on top of Harry’s head. “It’ll get easier, it really will. Look at how far you’ve come just in the last few weeks. Learning magic and going on dates? Could you have done that a year ago?”
“Probably not, since I was locked up,” Harry said drily. “Sorry,” he muttered, looking away quickly when he realized how rude he sounded.
James just laughed though and held Harry tighter. “Don’t apologize, you’re witty when you’re not worried.”
“I’m always worried.”
“You’re witty when you forget to be worried,” James amended himself. “You should forget more often.”
“I’ll try,” Harry whispered bleakly. He furrowed against James’ side and never wanted to leave it. “I don’t want to go back without you.”
“I know,” James said, so softly and tenderly that it nearly made Harry cry again. “Do it for me though, please? You’re finally free now, Harry. Nobody’s going to bother you, not with this last bit of Voldemort’s soul gone. You can live your life however you want.”
James hugged Harry tightly for a second before laughing. “And if that means snogging your Hyde boyfriend, so be it.”
Harry glanced up quickly, but he didn’t see any judgement in James’ face, just fond amusement.
“Will Sirius be mad?” Harry asked quietly. “That I picked Tyler?”
“Instead of Xavier? Nah,” James waved Harry off, completely misunderstanding his question. “Your mum wanted you to date Xavier, she’s a sap for those angsty art types, which makes no sense at all because I’m bollocks at art, but Sirius won’t mind Tyler being a Hyde. He’ll think it’s bloody wicked, he’s always wanted to meet one.”
Harry blinked in complete confusion. “Er… Tyler attacked Sirius.”
“Tyler attacked Sirius because he thought Sirius was hurting you, Sirius cursed Tyler because he thought Tyler was going to hurt you,” James said blithely, still sporting a grin. “It’ll be water under the bridge soon, son, I swear.”
The air around them seemed to thicken and Harry shivered- he felt like there was something happening and Harry didn’t want it to yet.
“You’re going to leave me, and that’s okay,” James murmured. He raised their interlocked hands to Harry’s chest and laid them over Harry’s heart. “Because I have never left you, not really. Your mum and I love you, we’re so proud of you, son.”
“But I don’t want to leave you,” Harry said. He looked at his dad and wanted nothing more than to stay there. “I can’t say goodbye, Dad, not yet.”
James held Harry and made him feel so warm and loved, like something important and precious.
Like a son.
“You deserved a better goodbye than you got, I’m just glad to give you one,” James breathed. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Harry’s head. “It’s not goodbye forever, just for another hundred or so years. Remember, son, time will fly when you have some fun.”
The air thickened and everything became static, Harry’s skin prickled and he threw his arms around his dad.
“Bye, Dad, I love you.”
James’ lips pressed against Harry’s forehead slowly dissolved and Harry slowly began to feel pain in his chest- real or imagined, he didn’t know.
“I love you, Harry, more than anything.”
The voice that drove Harry to inhale sharply, driving air into lungs that hadn’t been working before, was definitely real.
“HARRY! I WILL NOT LOSE YOU! I REFUSE! WAKE UP NOW!”
“He loves me.”
Harry opened his eyes and despite the way his body felt like it had been hit by a train, twice, he’d never been so happy in his life. Harry smiled weakly when Wednesday’s face moved in his blurry line of vision.
She was paler than usual and her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d been crying.
“He loves me,” Harry told her hoarsely. His throat ached like he’d been screaming for hours and he feebly reached up to try and grab Wednesday’s crisp white shirt collar. “He loves me.”
Wednesday dropped her head to Harry’s, resting her forehead against his in a mimic of Harry’s dad earlier.
“I love you, you insufferable cretin,” Wednesday said, her voice hitching and breaking on a sob. “Don’t ever do that to me again or I will kill you.”
*****
Tyler ran until he was deep in the forest. It was easier to run as Hyde, the Hyde couldn’t cry.
And Tyler’s heart was so shattered that he couldn’t breathe as Tyler, he had to be Hyde.
All he could think of was Harry.
Harry.
Harry.
Harry.
Wednesday killed him.
She took the one good thing in a shit world and destroyed it.
If Tyler didn’t know that he physically couldn’t kill Wednesday as the Hyde, he would have ripped her head from her body and drowned her uncle in her blood.
Tyler let out a wail, as close to crying as the Hyde could get, and he collapsed on the ground.
There would never be another person like Harry in the world. It was more than just how Tyler felt about Harry, it was everything Harry did, everything he overcame - just to be killed by a creep in a shed.
Tyler had been pacing in his living room, overwhelmed and irritable by Harry’s questions. Harry should be asking questions, that didn’t mean Tyler felt great answering them.
“If you can’t tell me who she is, can you tell me how she took control?” Harry asked.
Tyler grabbed his hair, pulling at his curls harshly while he clenched his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to remember.
Harry got up, quiet as a ghost, and drifted over to stand in front of Tyler.
“Ty?” he asked softly. “You can tell me.”
Nobody ever called Tyler ‘Ty’, not since his mom died.
He missed that.
“I was chained up in that cave, all night,” Tyler whispered bleakly. He was too cowardly to open his eyes, he couldn’t stand to see the judgment in Harry’s eyes. “She cut me, trying to get me to change. It took hours. I thought I’d die.”
“And then you changed?”
“Yeah, then I changed,” Tyler said with a repressed sob. “I trusted her, Harry. I thought- I thought she cared about me.”
“Is that how she got you in the cave?” Harry asked him.
“Yeah, because I’m a fucking idiot,” Tyler groaned. “I’m pathetic.”
Tyler had went there looking for love and affection from someone and he left with scars and a master. It was sickening.
Thin arms wrapped around Tyler’s waist, catching him by surprise. When Tyler opened his eyes he saw Harry hugging him, lending him his strength.
“You’re not pathetic,” Harry said.
Against his will, Tyler’s arms snaked out and wrapped around Harry’s back, clutching him tightly.
“You’re wrong,” Tyler said. He laughed self-deprecatingly, “I’ve got the scars to prove it.”
Harry reached behind himself and grabbed Tyler’s hand where it rested on his lower back. He moved it slowly, pushing Tyler’s hand beneath his shirt until his fingers were touching his bare back.
Tyler’s heart was sprinting when it wasn’t smooth skin he felt, but rough lines beneath his fingertips.
“Everyone’s got scars,” Harry murmured. “If you’re pathetic, I’m pathetic.”
And Harry wasn’t pathetic.
And there had never been any judgement in his eyes.
When Tyler felt icy wind on his skin, he knew that he’d changed back. He just stayed on the ground though, curled up, letting his tears freeze on his face.
It felt like losing his mom all over again. Harry was the one person who knew Tyler, who knew him and accepted every part of him - the good, the bad, the dark, and the ugly - and he was gone.
The world was never going to feel the same, never.
By the time that Tyler’s body felt dehydrated and frozen from all the tears he’d spilled, he felt something heavy and warm thrown over him.
Tyler lifted his head from the ground and stared bleakly upward. He had to ground his fist over his eyes to clear his sight to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
“You’re going to freeze to- you’re going to freeze,” Xavier said. He stood above Tyler, looking tall from where Tyler was hunched over himself on the ground, and his face was full of the same grief that was destroying Tyler from the inside out.
“He’s gone,” Tyler said, his voice nothing more than a bleak croak. He stared helplessly up at Xavier and said it again. “He’s gone.”
“I know.” Xavier dropped to his knees beside Tyler and put a heavy arm over Tyler’s back. “I know, man.”
Xavier’s grip wasn’t the same as Harry’s, it was too heavy and too warm, but it was something to keep Tyler in place when all he wanted to do was disappear.
*****
Wednesday had to practically carry Harry from the shed up to his dorm. Harry was weak, pitifully so.
“Quiet now,” Wednesday warned Harry while she drug him up the stairs. “It’s late.”
Harry nodded, his eyes glazed and unfocused. An unavoidable side-effect of his unintentional temporary death.
An event that Wednesday would prefer to have Enid gouge her eyes out than ever repeat.
“C’n I stay with you?” Harry asked, his words slurred and more uncertain than usual. “My rooms haunted.”
Wednesday nearly snorted, if it wasn’t a disgusting sound to make.
“Your room is not haunted,” she told him. “But yes, you can stay with me. In Enid’s bed.”
“Tell- tell Xavier ‘m with you,” Harry said. He was panting from the exertion of their walk and Wednesday was nearly impressed by his determination to reach the rooms and not spend the night in the shed as Uncle Fester had suggested.
“Xavier left,” Wednesday said curtly. She’d been wholly distracted by the death of her cousin and hadn’t noticed anything unusual until Harry opened his eyes.
Wednesday wasn’t a crier - tears fixed nothing - but it had been all she could do to not lose her mind completely when Harry didn’t wake. In the end, it was a lesson learned. Wednesday would prefer Harry to have two souls than ever risk his life in such a way again.
“Why?” Harry asked. Wednesday grunted when Harry went limp in her arms and she struggled to lift him.
“Twenty more feet,” Wednesday grit out. She shifted her arms to wrap beneath Harry’s armpits and began dragging him toward her room.
Harry laughed breathlessly, a mildly alarming sound.
“Dad- Dad said we should have adventures,” Harry whispered. “Me and you.”
“You need sleep before you go on any adventures,” Wednesday told him curtly. She kicked her door with the heel of her boot, unable to drop Harry to open the door. Enid hadn’t been there to witness the absolute catastrophe of removing the soul from Harry, she could open the infernal door.
“Oh em gee, what happened?!” Enid asked, her shrill voice causing Wednesday to wince with the dull ache in her head.
“Help me,” Wednesday ordered her. “Put him in your bed, carefully, he died tonight.”
Enid reached around Wednesday and easily lifted Harry in her arms. “He did what tonight?” Enid hissed. She carried Harry to Wednesday’s bed and laid him gently on the bed after pulling the comforter down to cover him with.
“Don’t worry, he’s clearly alive now,” Wednesday said, struggling to find her emotionless tone.
It had been too real, seeing Harry lifeless on that table.
Enid brushed Harry’s sweat soaked bangs off his forehead before turning and raising her eyebrows at Wednesday.
“You killed him?” she asked. “What happened to caring about his feelings?”
“Feel like I got hit by a train,” Harry murmured, not sounding entirely lucid. “Want Ares…”
“Then I have good news,” Enid sat on the edge of Wednesday’s bed and rubbed Harry’s arm. “Principal Weems was looking for you earlier, Ares has the vent removed. He’s awake Harry, and he’s asking for you.”
Harry’s eyes fluttered closed while his lips spread in what Wednesday would admit was a rather sweet smile.
“Dad said it would be fine,” he said. He pulled his knees up to his chest and cuddled into the pillow. “‘M tired.”
“Sleep then,” Wednesday told him bossily. “We’ll go see our Uncle Ares when you wake.”
“And Tyler…” Harry mumbled. “Xavier too…”
Wednesday ground her teeth together at the reminder of Harry’s inexplicable attachment to the two cretinous fools that hadn’t even had the hardiness to stay by Harry’s side until he woke.
“Rest,” Wednesday said. She stepped closer to her bed and smoothed the comforter over him. “Never again.”
“Never,” Harry agreed. It took no time at all before his face fell lax and his chest rose and fell in even breaths.
“He was dead,” Wednesday told Enid while she watched Harry for continued proof of life. “Dead, Enid, he died.”
Enid got up and stepped behind Wednesday, wrapping her arms around Wednesday’s waist and propping her chin on Wednesday’s shoulder.
Wednesday didn’t do hugs, but she didn’t do tears either. She doubted if Harry died as a routine behavior, so it was clearly a night for utter insanity.
“He’s fine now,” Enid said softly. The floral perfume she overused was assaulting Wednesday’s senses, washing away the singed scent of Harry’s fried body.
“Come on,” Enid pulled Wednesday backward, toward her bed. “You look exhausted, you need to sleep.”
“I need to watch Harry,” Wednesday scowled. “Who knows what damage was done to his internal organs?”
Dying and coming back to life had the potential to utterly destroy a person’s body. It was why revived bodies never had the healthy flush of a true living person.
Harry was, in a way, the first breathing zombie that Wednesday knew of. He was unique, he had to be kept alive at all costs.
Wednesday could never lose him again.
“We’ll watch him from here,” Enid said. “Come on, sit down and tell me what happened.”
Wednesday was weary, clear down to her bones. She sat down on the edge of Enid’s bed and couldn’t even blink, lest Harry stop breathing while she did it.
“It was my fault,” Wednesday admitted to Enid. She sat stiffly, not acknowledging the way Enid clung to her. “It was my fault.”
“Hey, you were doing what you thought was right,” Enid said, squeezing Wednesday almost too tightly from beside her. “You were just trying to help him.”
“And he died.” Wednesday cleared her throat and all the taut muscles in her body sagged, all her determination to resolve everything for everyone wavered.
“What if I had been wrong?” Wednesday asked, thinking aloud. She studied the soft shadows that played across Harry’s face in the semi-darkness of the night. “Statistically, it’s impossible for one person to be correct at all times. This could have been my one.”
Wednesday could have lost Harry permanently because of her determination to always pursue a higher level of knowledge and truth.
“I could have been wrong.”