If You\'re Gone

TITLE: If You’re Gone

AUTHOR: Taran & Sherdelune (aka Lady Moonlight)

PAIRING: SS/HP

RATING: R Sexual situations

FEEDBACK: sherdelune@comcast.net or taran_swann@yahoo.ca

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own ‘em, don’t want to. As Taran would say “Some nasty, ugly, brilliant woman by the name of J.K. Rowling owns the whole Harry Potter universe. I\'m just borrowing for a while, and then I\'ll send it all back the way I found it.” Yeah, what he said.

Lyrics to \"If You\'re Gone\" by Matchbox Twenty

SUMMARY: AU SLASH Harry travels to a funeral. On his way home, he finds himself in a very interesting predicatment.

NOTES: Part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q-Fest. Bonus challenge: Sirius must ask/beg Snape to marry (and consummate the marriage) with Harry

SPOILERS: None that I know of

ARCHIVING: The Severus Snape Fuh-Q-Fest and archives. Elsewhere, ask.

If You\'re Gone

by Taran_Swann and Sherdelune (Lady Moonlight)

~@~

If you\'re gone...maybe it\'s time to go home
There\'s an awful lot of breathing room
But I can hardly move
If you\'re gone...baby its time to come home
\'Cuz there\'s a little bit of something in me
In everything in you


Something was terribly wrong at 4 Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. There was not much that went on in that house that Albus Dumbledore did not know about, and right now his instinct told him that something was just not right. He decided to do a little digging, and was saddened to learn that Harry\'s cousin Dudley Dursley had befallen a terrible fate. It seemed that the lad had gone on an eating binge, and literally eaten himself to death. Albus clucked sympathetically. “Well, we certainly saw that coming, didn’t we, Fawkes?”

It was Dumbledore’s unenviable task to inform Harry of this unfortunate incident. He knew that even though there was no love lost between Harry Potter and the Dursley’s, Harry would want to be informed. He summoned the young wizard to his office.

Harry was in the middle of working on a complex potion when the headmaster’s owl found him. Puzzled, he removed the message that was attached to the owl’s leg. The owl flew out as Harry unrolled the message.

“Harry, please come to my office as soon as you possibly can. Thank you.

A. Dumbledore
Headmaster”


From his corner of the room, Professor Severus Snape watched with interest as Harry put the fire out under his cauldron, and began to approach him.

“Professor Snape, may I be excused from the remainder of class? Professor Dumbledore wishes to see me.”

Snape surveyed young Potter from behind his curtain of black hair. So many thoughts were racing through his mind, but he must not betray these thoughts. Not yet.

Severus read the note that Harry offered, then nodded his consent. “You will have to make up this assignment later, Potter. So be sure to contact me when you are finished with Dumbledore.”

Harry sighed. He never seemed to be able to catch a fair break with the potions master. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll be sure to see you about the make-up work.” He turned on his heel and began walking toward the door.

“See that you do.” Harry heard the words, but missed the subtle smile that played across Snape’s lips.

~@~

“Harry, please sit down.” Albus motioned for Harry to have a seat in one of the comfortable chairs in his office. “I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news for you.” Dumbledore held out a dish with sherbert lemons, which Harry politely declined. “There’s no easy way of telling you this, son, so I’ll just get to the point. Your cousin Dudley has unfortunately…died.”

Harry looked at the headmaster incredulously. “Dudley, dead? But how?”

How could he say this with decorum? There really wasn’t a way to gloss it over, so Albus decided the direct method would probably be the best. “Ah well. It seems young Dursley ate himself into an early grave. They will be burying him Friday.” The headmaster must have found his fingers terribly fascinating, because he suddenly could not take his eyes off of them.

Harry stifled the laughter that threatened to erupt at any moment. He knew he should feel bad for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, but they had never offered him a comfortable home and family, he only lived with them like an unwanted guest, and he didn\'t see how this event would change anything. But despite this fact, they were his only family, and he felt a sense of obligation to be there for them now. “Professor Dumbledore, do you think it would be possible for me to go to my cousins funeral? I think I should at least make an appearance.”

Albus took a moment to consider Harry’s request. “Are you certain you wish to do this, my boy? I know that you were never really happy when you lived with your aunt and uncle, and you were always upset that you had to go back to the Dursley house for the summer.”

Harry rose from the chair and took a few steps toward the headmaster. “I know, Professor. But like it or not, they are the only family I’ve got, and I feel as though I should be there for them now. I won’t stay any longer than necessary, believe me.”

The older man rose from his chair to meet Harry at the door, laying a comforting hand on the young mans shoulder. “Harry, you must do what you feel you have to do. And if you think you need to be there for your family, by all means you should go.” The wise old wizard patted Harry’s shoulder as he began to leave the office. “I’m sure you will make the right choice, little one.”

Harry nodded and sighed. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll see you later.”

“Good-bye, Harry.”

Harry slowly climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Since tomorrow was Friday, he thought it best to pack a small bag for the short trip he would be taking into the Muggle world. Going through his trunk at the end of his bed, he took out a relatively formal suit that would function well in their world. Underclothes, sleepwear and casual clothing came next, followed by toiletries. He noticed his invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map nestled into a corner in the bottom of the trunk. Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to pack them as well, just in case. He stood there for a moment, lost in his thoughts. Thoughts of his parents, his aunt and uncle, Dudley, and his own life here at Hogwarts.

A loud noise behind him shattered his daydreams. He turned around to see what the noise was, to find Dobby scuttling toward him, with a huge smile on his face.

“Harry Potter is being on a long trip?”

“Oh, hello Dobby. Yes, my cousin died and I am going to his funeral tomorrow.”

“Harry Potter is sad? Dobby does not like Harry Potter to be sad.”

“Thank you, Dobby. I’m not really sad, but I’m going to go there because they are the only family I have and I don‘t want them to have to be alone.”

“Dobby is knowing Harry Potter is a good person. Harry Potter freed Dobby. Dobby never forgot this.”

Harry smiled fondly at the little house elf. “Dobby, I need to finish packing now, and then I need to see Professor Dumbledore so he can make me two portkeys for my trip. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Dobby has powerful magic. Dobby can make portkeys for Harry Potter. “Harry Potter not be sad anymore.” The elf nodded his head vigorously. “Yes, Dobby makes Harry Potter portkeys.”

Harry didn’t want to upset the little elf, so against his better judgment, he agreed to allow Dobby to make his portkeys. He had no idea the life altering consequences this decision would have on things.

He finished packing his bag, then lay down on his four poster bed to get a little nap before visiting all of his professors. Heaven knows he would not be getting proper rest while he was visiting the Dursleys.

After waking, Harry spent the rest of the afternoon tying up all the loose ends at school. He spoke to most of his professors, explaining the situation and arranging for Hermione and Ron to pick up any assignments he may miss. The only one left to talk to was Snape, and he was dreading the idea of telling the harsh man that he would be missing some classes.

~@~

“So you’re telling me that this Muggle funeral is more important to you than your class work?” Snape spit the words out with a sneer. “You’re only a few months shy of graduating, Potter. Surely you can go see that sorry excuse of a family after you have finished with your education?” Snape held his breath for the answer, silently dreading it.

“I’m sorry, Professor. This just can’t wait. Hermione and Ron will keep track of any assignments I might miss, and I’ll be back on Saturday at the latest. My school work won’t suffer, I promise.”

Snape exhaled quietly. He had pushed him, given him an out. The young man had not taken it. All that was left now was to let time do it’s work.

“Very well, Potter. I fully expect you to turn in the assignments you will miss for the next several days.”

Harry was puzzled. “The next several days, Professor? I’m sure I’ll be back by Saturday evening. I can work on the weekend to catch up with today and tomorrow’s work.”

Severus silently castigated himself for the slip up. He must be more careful with what he said before Harry left later this evening.

“My mistake, Potter. Of course you will be able to catch up over the weekend. I would wish you a pleasant trip, but I know where you’re going. Good bye, Potter.”

Summarily dismissed and feeling just a bit chastened, Harry beat a hasty retreat to his dorm room to pick up his bag and get the portkeys that Dobby had prepared for the trip..

“Hello, Harry Potter! Dobby made Harry Potter magic keys.” Dobby thrust two small wooden boxes into Harry’s hands. “The red box takes Harry Potter to the Muggles. The blue box brings Harry Potter back home. Dobby hope Harry Potter very happy.” Make Professor Snape sir happy, too.\" The house elf was practically gushing. It was more than a little unsettling and very confusing.

“Thank you, Dobby. I’m very happy.” ‘And what could possibly make Snarky Snape happy,‘ he thought to himself.

Harry removed his robes and put on the Muggle jeans and t-shirt. He placed the red box in his pocket and put the blue box in his bag. Hitching the bag up over his shoulder, he prepared to leave. “Well, thanks again, Dobby. I’ll see you Saturday night.”

Harry eased open the red box that was in his pocket and touched the contents. Almost immediately he felt wave of nausea rising from the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes, willing the bile that was rising up from his gut to retreat. Just as soon as it began, it ended.

~@~

When Harry opened his eyes, he found himself standing in the upstairs bedroom that he had occupied during his summer breaks. He could hear the voices of his aunt and uncle downstairs as they mourned their only son. He stashed his bag in the cupboard, and began mentally preparing for the scene that certainly awaited him. Slowly he descended the stairs.

“Hello Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon.” His voice crackled with emotion. “I’m sorry about Dudley, truly I am.” A genuine tear slid down his cheek. He and Dudley had never really gotten along, but he never imagined that his cousin would die so young. It really brought home other feelings of loss in his young life.

The Dursley’s stood there, faces awash with tears, mouths hanging open. “H-h-how did you h-h-hear about Dudley?” his aunt stuttered. Fresh sobs wracked the woman’s slender frame, which prompted her husband to wrap a beefy arm around her shoulders.

Harry had never seen his mother’s sister so…lost. “Professor Dumbledore told me this afternoon. I thought I should be here for the…you know…the funeral.” More tears began to prick at his eyes and he wiped them away with his sleeve. He was unsure if he should try to hug his aunt, or make some other offer of comfort.

Aunt Petunia didn’t give him the opportunity to find out on his own. She rushed toward the young man, throwing her thin arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. This unabashed show of affection really threw Harry for a loop. Slowly he eased his arms around the bereaved mother, and began to pat her hair. If this wasn’t odd enough, things got even weirder when uncle Vernon joined them, his large arms encompassing them both.

This strange behaviour prompted Harry to burst into tears. He cried tears for Dudley, the cousin he never really knew. He cried for his aunt and uncle, who would never be able to hold their child like this ever again. But most of all, Harry cried for himself, for the 16 lonely years he had spent craving the arms of the mother he never had a chance to know, and the father he knew only through old photographs and stories told to him by his godfather.

The three of them just stood there for the longest time, each of them mourning something that had been forever lost. For the Dursley’s, it was their only child, but for Harry, it was his innocence.

~@~

Friday morning dawned grey and rainy at number 4, Privet Drive. Harry dressed in the only nice suit he owned. Looking in a mirror, he combed his hair, finally making it behave for a change. He finished grooming, then met his family downstairs. Solemnly, the trio got into the motorcar that was to take them to the church where the funeral was to take place.

It appeared that his uncle had spared no expense in giving his only son the proper send off. The church was festooned with flowers, and Dudley’s coffin was blanketed in white roses. A woman was seated at the organ playing some dreadful dirge of a song, aespiespite the events of last night, Harry couldn’t wait to get back home.

He managed to sit through the service with equanimity, but was glad when it was finally over. He had promised his aunt and uncle he would stay through until Saturday afternoon, and he was good for his word.

Saturday afternoon Harry said his good-byes to his family, who asked him visit more often. He told them that he would certainly try to come visit again soon. He placed a kiss on the cheek of his aunt, and extended his hand to his uncle, who shook it soundly.

Harry ascended the stairs so that he could go home. He took the blue box out of the bag and stuck it in his pocket, then hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder. “Goodbye!” he called out. He reached into his pocket and eased open the blue box. The last thing he heard was the faint good-byes from his aunt and uncle.

Harry felt the familiar pull on his stomach even as his fingers touched the portkey Dobby had given to him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass. When he re-opened them, he was looking at the old rusted gate that led up to his school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looked the same as always in the distance.

~@~

TBC