A/N: I got the best flame ever for 'Depression'! It is so funny; go look at it in the 'Reviews'. It should be the second one. I think I'm also going to put this as Chapter Two for 'Depression', because I really don't know how to write despair…Oh well. Time to lengthen this story!
DISCLAIMER: If I was in charge of this Harry Potter bookness, this would never ever happen!
Harry ignored Ginny, who was outside of the bedroom.
"Harry James Potter, let me in! I need to go to sleep too!"
"Ginny, you might just want to sleep somewhere else tonight…I mean…that was his best mate…"
"He was my bloody brother, and I'm not as upset as he is!"
"Then there's something wrong with you," Harry shouted through the door. Ginny cursed and tried to open the door again with Alohomora.
"That's not going to work, Ginny, you've tried it loads of times already," George stated.
Harry, meanwhile, was still crying over the fact that everyone he loved (besides the two standing outside and the one asleep already) was dead. Ron had just died after a five year coma that Harry was sure he would come out of. The others had died only a few years ago, and Harry was still not over that, so he was wallowing in a even bigger pit of despair.
He heard Ginny yell at George, something incoherent, and stomp off, most likely going to sleep on the couch. George huffed and went back to the back room. Harry then got up and went to the kitchen (which was not near the living room at all, unlike most houses). He tried to find something to eat; all that crying had made him hungry. But he finally gave up, thinking too much of the same thing: 'Ron is dead. Hermione is dead. Everyone is dead. I should be dead, too.' Harry looked at the knife rack, but as soon as the thought came into his head, it went back out again.
"No way am I doing that," He said out loud. Realizing how loud he was, he decided to keep all monologue inside of his head.
'If I did that, I'd go crazy with it. And Ginny would kill me! Ah, but I want too…but I shouldn't, so I won't. I'll just end up like everyone else…I'll be dead for no reason.' Just then, he heard footsteps. Being the master of stealth, he, quickly and quietly, got back into his room unnoticed. He sank onto his empty bed, a bed that should be filled with himself and his lover, his wife. But she needed time, just like Harry. Maybe not so much though.
Knock knock.
"Who is it?" Harry said groggily. The door opened, and William walked in, confusion written everywhere on his pale little face.
"What's going on?" he asked his father, crawling up next to him. "I heard the yelling and stuff." Harry felt horrible. He was going to have to tell him now, or suffer later.
"Er…well, your mother and I were going to tell you this next morning, but I guess that since you're up, I should just tell you. Your Uncle Ron…you know the one who was asleep for a long time?" William nodded. "Well…this is really hard…he…" Harry started to choke up. "…He died yesterday. I'm sorry." William started to cry.
"I barely knew him, too!" he exclaimed. "He's been asleep ever since I was born, right?"
Harry nodded and hugged William. "I'm sorry that you never got to meet him, Will. He was a very funny, nice, and wonderful person. I…I loved your Uncle Ron like the brother I never had."
"I know, Daddy. I can tell," William said, looking up into Harry's puffy eyes.
Harry smiled sadly. "For a five year old, you are very smart and mature. You act like one of my best friends…she's died too."
"Who was that?" William asked.
"Hermione. She was a wonderfully talented girl. She had very bushy hair, and…well, I have a picture of her right here, look." Harry showed William her picture.
"She looks silly," he said, smiling.
Harry smiled a real smile. "Well, that's not nice to say. That would've been your Aunt, if Ron hadn't…fallen asleep. He was going to ask her to marry him."
"Wow. What about your other friends? Did they die too?"
Harry sat up all night telling William about his life before and during the war; about all of his friends, his family, everything he could think of that he could censor for the little five year old's ears. After he was done, he could see that William was too tired to move.
"How's about you sleep in here tonight?" Harry offered. "I bet this bed is way more comfy than yours."
"I bet it is…It's bigger. Is it okay that I sleep in here?"
"Yeah, I need company anyway. You're great company, so I would like it if you stayed."
"Okay," William said, smiling. Harry smiled back. He knew that his son was great, but in reality, his son could work wonders…and he was only five!
'I can only imagine what he'll accomplish later in life,' Harry thought as he drifted off to sleep, feeling more comfort than he had for awhile.
A/N: I love William Potter! He should have his own story (JKR I made a new character!!!) lol. I can imagine him missing one tooth, and being sorter than average, and having tons of freckles and messy dark red hair…AWW he's a cutie!