Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 17:

Saying Good-bye

A/N: I know last chapter was a surprise and heartache, but it shouldn't have been so surprising to you. If you have time or just want to, go back and read all the foreshadowing clues I dropped.

Disclaimer: Don't own HP or Chris Rice's Sleepyhead Sun

Harry stared solemnly into Hermione's full-length mirror as his fingers fumbled about to get his tie just right. He hardly ever wore a suit, so he was unaccustomed to getting one to fit exactly. As he worked to get it right, he remembered precisely why he never wore one. He hated the hassle and trouble he had to go to to wear one. Give him jeans and a t-shirt any day.

But today was different. He had to look nice. He wanted to look nice. For funerals in the past, he had just worn slacks and a button up shirt, but this wasn't just another funeral. This was the funeral of his son's best friend, of a young man that he and Hermione had grown to think of as a second son.

The day after Jeremiah had died, Dr. Regina had called Harry and asked him to speak at the funeral. He had agreed immediately before sitting for several hours, thinking of what to say and crying at the death of a young person, cut down far before his time.

After Hermione had pulled a hysterical Matthew from Jeremiah's bedside on that fateful day, Harry had taken him from her and tried to calm him down in the bathroom, wetting his face with a cloth and rocking him gently back and forth. Harry had faced so much pain in his lifetime, but he knew all that he had encountered was nothing compared to the pain of his beloved four year old.

When they had gotten home, Harry and Hermione had both tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen to a word they had to say about Jeremiah's death. All he had done for the past two days was walk glumly around the house with tears in his eyes. Harry and Hermione wanted to help so bad that they hurt along with him, but nothing in the world could bring Jeremiah back.

Harry was really dreading the funeral, but time had sped along, and it was occurring in an hour's time.

As he struggled with his tie, Hermione came into the bedroom from their adjourning bathroom dressed in a nice black dress. Her hair was tied back and she was already crying. Harry knew there was no possible way she'd be able to make it through this day. She saw Harry in his suit and gave a tortured sob before walking towards him slowly and mournfully. She straightened his tie roughly and tied it with a ferocity that she only possessed when she was angry. After it was tied, she gave him an angry look before collapsing onto his chest with great heaving sobs.

"Hermione, Hermione…Shh, it's okay, stop crying…" He murmured softly as he stroked her back with his fingers.

"No, no, NO!" She pushed away from him viciously, although he would never admit that her push had hurt him. "Harry, it's not all right! I saw Matthew, and he saw him die! My son has seen more in his short life than most, and I am helpless to do anything about it! I'm supposed to be the all-knowing mom, able to take away problems with an ice cream pop or something! Harry, he's going to be the only first year to be able to see thestrals!" With that final, seemingly off-topic passage, Hermione fell back into her husband's arms and cried like an innocent child. Harry caressed her gently, wanting to soothe her hysterics.

"'Mione, calm down, I'm here for you. You need to be strong for Matthew today. We have to work together to get through this. I know you're hurting. This will be the saddest and hardest thing I've ever had to do."

Hermione leaned away, still in his arms, and gave a sniffle and a nod. She mastered a weak smile, and let Harry wipe away her tears with the backs of his thumbs. He pushed her curly hair back with a brush of his hand and kissed her softly on the forehead just as they heard footsteps at the door. They turned as one to the door and saw Matthew standing halfway in the darkness, staring at them solemnly. Harry forced an exaggerated smile and went to Matthew.

"Hey, Matthew! You ready to go eat some Lucky Charms?"

Matthew just stared at him and lifted his arms up to be held. Harry sighed but couldn't help but obliged. He turned to Hermione as Matthew continued to stare towards the wall.

"I'm already completely ready, so I'll take charge of him for the morning." Harry held his son close to his heart, feeling his heart beat in accordance with his own. When they reached the kitchen, Harry put Matthew into his little seat and made a movement towards the counter. "Mmm, what all do we have? You can have Lucky Charms, Cheerios, or, my favorite, Special K!" He whipped the box out of the pantry, trying to make Matthew laugh. His expression didn't change one bit. Harry gave a deep sigh and tossed the box onto the table before sitting heavily in the chair across from his son.

"Listen, Matthew, I don't know what I can do for you. I know you are hurting so badly, and that hurts me, the knowledge that something is wrong in your life and I can't fix it. Please, tell me what I can do to help you."

Matthew picked up his spoon and studied his pale reflection in its indention.

"Matthew," Harry sighed again, putting his hands in his hair. "I love you, and if you need to talk to me about any of this at all, please don't be afraid to." Matthew gave him another blank look just as Hermione entered the kitchen. The family shared a silent breakfast, and too soon it was time to go to the church.

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The number of people in the audience absolutely boggled Harry's mind. To know that someone who had only lived to the age of 17 had touched so many lives was more than his mind could fully comprehend. Every pew was completely full, and people were sitting in folding chairs that were set up in the back. From Harry's spot on the stage, he could see Hermione and Matthew near the front, Hermione watching Harry lovingly with tears in her eyes and Matthew thumbing silently through a hymnal, not really seeing anything he was looking at.

Despite the sheer size of the audience, there was an unearthly silence in the church, minus the noise of sniffles and weeping. Harry was scared out of his mind to be in front of so many people to say a few words, and he had to keep reminding himself why he was there so he wouldn't feel the need to run away.

The slow background music stopped and the back doors opened up. Harry stood with the congregation as Dr. Regina and her family and other relatives came in and sat down at the front. Harry's heart broke to see the anguish on Dr. Regina's face, so desperate to hide her pain from prying eyes.

When the family was seated, silence reverberated throughout the room. Harry took a deep breath before walking slowly to the podium. He pulled at his tie nervously before speaking.

"All of us are gathered here today to remember the amazing but short life of our dear friend. Jeremiah was a really great person who lived more than most people, even though his life was cut short.

"When Dr. Regina asked me to speak today, I was honored but really afraid. I really didn't known Jeremiah as long as many of you probably did, but for the last year and a half, he has continually touched my life along with every person around him.

"I first met Jeremiah on the day that my son, Matthew, was diagnosed with leukemia. Our family was very shaken by the news, and we felt that we were helpless to do anything. I was completely hopeless, my wife, Hermione, was afraid of the future, and Matthew needed the courage to get through his upcoming treatments. Jeremiah gave all of us a fulfillment to our needs. He lived such a wonderful life that I found a renewed hope for the future that I had doubted my son would have. He talked to Hermione and helped her find the strength she needed to be brave for our family. And for Matthew, well, Jeremiah helped Matthew more than any of the treatment could help him. He took him under his wing, and in no time, he was my little boy's hero and best friend. When he was re-diagnosed with leukemia, he and Matthew fought literally side by side to fend off the cancer. Jeremiah wasn't just Matthew's friend and role model: he was a big brother and kindred spirit.

"Jeremiah is gone now, the cancer that he so desperately wanted to help others battle took him away from us. But his memory lives on in those he helped, in those whose lives have been touched by the incredible time he spent on this earth." Harry looked down to the white coffin.

"Farewell, my other son. I'll see you on the other side."

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The rest of the service was filled with sorrow. Not a single eye in the congregation was dry; all had been deeply affected by the passing of Jeremiah. The graveside was just as mournful. As the pastor said some words, Harry couldn't help but notice that his son kept staring unsubtly at a tall red-haired girl who was crying uncontrollably. He thought to chide him for staring, but knew that it wouldn't do any could. Matthew hadn't listened to anything or spoken since they had come home from the hospital.

The pastor said a closing prayer and the mourners began to head back to their vehicles. Matthew looked up to his father and let go of his hand so he could walk towards the girl he had been staring at.

"Matthew, come back!" Matthew either didn't hear his father's voice or chose to ignore it. He walked right up to the girl and pulled gently on the hem of her knee-length black skirt. She looked down and sniffed, pulling her red hair to her opposite shoulder so that it didn't fall over her eyes.

"May I help you?" She knelt down in a graceful manner so she could look Matthew directly in the eye. She was very pretty; her blue eyes stood out as brightly as her brush of freckles.

"You're Sierra, aren't you?"

The girl pulled back a strand of hair and looked at him in puzzlement. "Yes. How do you know me?"

"I'm Matt."

"Oh," she said, realization dawning in her eyes. "You're the one that was with him, aren't you?"

He nodded and she threw her arms around him. "I loved your friend very, very much. I just wish I had taken the opportunity to tell him."

Matt hugged her back and looked up to her eyes. "He loved you so much, but he was scared to tell you, because he didn't want you to get hurt. I guess he didn't want to leave you if, I mean, since he died."

Sierra's eyes pooled with fresh tears and she pulled Matt back to her heart. "Thank you for telling me, Matt. I just wish I had known before now."

"Why?"

"Because then we wouldn't have had to hide our feelings, and we could have spent whatever time he had left together." She gave him one last hug before walking away from the love of her life's coffin.

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That night, Hermione woke near midnight with a jolt. Her motherly instincts were kicking in, and she knew something was wrong with Matthew. She got quietly out of bed, careful not to wake Harry, and headed down the hall to Matthew's room. She could see him in the darkness, jerking around in his bed. She ran over and gathered him in her arms.

"Matthew, honey, wake up! You're dreaming, it's okay!" He awoke, gasping, and looked up into his mother's face before collapsing onto her breast in a heap of sobs. Hermione knew she should ask what his dream was about, but there was no use.

"Shhh, baby, it'll be all right. I'm here, darling. Try to go to sleep."

"I can't."

"Would it help if I sang to you?"

She saw his head nod in the dark, and she began to sing the lullaby of his infancy.

"Wake up you sleepyhead sun
Rise from your eastern bed
Stretch and yawn

Wake up you sleepyhead sun
Rise from your eastern bed
Stretch and yawn, now it's time to shine
And chase our shadows west
Burn in your pathway across the sky
And brighten up our stories
Wake the continents and oceans to
Another blessed morning!

You are the gift, you are the proof
The Lord looks down and warms my roof
You are the light, you are the sign
That I am loved and life is mine." time t

Matthew had fallen asleep on her lap to the soft melody of her voice. Not wanting to wake him, she curled up behind him and slept with him tight in her arms until a new day dawned.

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