They were gone.

The two people that meant everything. They made him laugh and filled each day with cheer. They had been there at his lowest and highest. They were, they were his little family- his brothers.

The pale daylight shone eerily across the graveyard. Tears glinted as they ran down cheeks and all faces present were wracked with grief. Two such vibrant souls lost to the mystery of death. They had a double coffin, usually for couples but none were as close as they.

'Tis fitting that they are in death together. It doesn't mean that I shall miss them any less.' Harry sighed dragging a hand across his cheeks.

Having chosen to stay at the back closer to the trees that bordered the graveyard in Godric's Hollow, he grieved no less but preferred to avoid the other attendees. More alone but not less emotional. They were his rocks and they held him up. Now he just felt weak and worthless.

No one he knew was left alive and he doubted anyone else knew he himself was alive. Grandchildren, cousins… still Weasley but it's different. He was the last left from the war with Voldemort and sometimes it just hits him that it's over. Like now. He is the only one left who witnessed it.

"It's over, they are over, gone to play a new song. Yet I can not follow. I am stuck here. I wish I could forget about it…" Muttering he stepped forward toward the double coffin. With a sigh and a small smile he placed two red roses on the coffin.

"In death together as you were in life. Together, never separate. Making mischief and smiles. Continue your tricks, talk to Siri and my Dad for me, they'll help you out. Don't worry about me." He whispered as two fat tears sluggishly slid down his trembling cheeks. He felt a stinging sensation from the warm tears on cheeks cold from the chilled breeze.

A pale youthful hand raised, shaking, to his mouth in an attempt to muffle his laboured panting and the occasional strangled sobs. Shudders ran down his spine as he tried to subdue the overwhelming feeling of despair and loss. He couldn't stop the tears. Slowly he slid down the tree until he was sat against it, hunched over as if trying to protect himself from his own emotions.

'I am now finally alone in this world. I just want to sleep and forget this all like Sleeping Beauty. Hah, it would fit someone like me who doesn't age. I should sleep for a while and forget everything.' He thought slightly dazed from the haziness that always follows a good cry.

Stumbling and feeling drained, Harry made his way out of the graveyard, not without speaking with his parents mind you, before apparating back to their little house near the seaside. Despite the chilly weather, Harry took a walk along the beach allowing himself to fall into the memories. There were so many both good and bad but he regretted none of his time with them.

Remembering when they first found this place.

They had been looking for directions to a site where you could find a rare type of moss they wanted to test. They all got lost and more lost and Fred-Fred he, and then George.

He curled up on the sand. Letting the chilled sea air seep his warmth away. Letting the tide caress the hair on the back of his neck. He stayed there for a long time letting tears roll down his cheeks. Noon passed and the sun had started to dip of into the horizon when he was pulled back into awareness by a sudden noise.

From nowhere an owl swooped dropping a letter onto the sand before shooting off again. Sitting up he grimaced running a hand through his hair. Quickly he looked off into the horizon but nothing. Already up he trudged back home to freshened up.

The idea of sleeping kept on crossing his mind. He became sleepier and sleepier, staying awake less and less each day. Soon enough he reached the hibernation stage. He locked down the wards, having already strengthened them, and prepared himself for a hibernation.

It was strange. His magic was convincing him. It felt tired and sore, almost overused and lacklustre. Of course he didn't know when he'd wake up. Not that it made much difference. He had hired a goblin a month or two ago to run the business and his estates and had no worries about finances. A goblin wouldn't cheat him, it would be pointless. It would only cost them more money in the long run.

The days had started to roll out when he finally fell into 'eternal' sleep. It was a Thursday in mid-February. The day was grey and stormy. The recent muggle disputes having instilled fear into even the most strict of pure-bloods. He had only managed to wake for 15 minutes, longer than the day before.

Having penned a few letters to the descendants of friends and put the wards on complete lock down. Nothing in, nothing out. No sounds no birds only the house elves could move freely. His place of rest was safe. Nightly ablutions finished he cast a final few spells, yawning in his white tank and boxers as he let the sweet harp music sweep him into Morpheus' arms.