Disclaimer: It's not mine.

Summary: Crossover of X-Men and Harry Potter, HPArchangel, HPDM slash, LoganJean.

Teaser: What happens when Harry is sent to his grandfathers? What relation does he have to the X-Men?

He grasped around the bed stand in the darkness looking for the bottle of pills he stole from the pharmacy a week earlier. He attempted to get them without mentally breaking down in one of the aisles, but was unsuccessful and had a hard time getting them. He walked in and saw a couple trying to decide which comforter to get for their bedroom. While others were giving them point blank stares of bigotry, he was looking at the scene unfold with nostalgic bitterness. The cashier started to ask questions and he just responded with straightforward answers while allowing the tears to escape his eyes. Now that he had them, he'd been avoiding them.

He had just woken up from a nightmare about the final battle. He'd dreamt of all the deaths that he couldn't take back now. All the people he let down, he let die. He turned to the clock at his side, it read 2:15. It was getting closer to the time of death. He rose from the bed and let the blankets fall to the floor. As they fell, he heard creaking footsteps coming up the stairs. His bare feet were chilled when meeting the cold tile floor. He remembered fighting so fervently to get carpet, but he couldn't go against the one he loved. He looked at the other side of the bed and started to cry again at the empty image. He missed the person that was supposed to be at his side. He looked back at his journal on the bed stand. He remembered last night when he wrote about how much he hated the fact that he continued to cry.

Getting to the restroom, he stumbled. There was a loss of energy, and his body ached with every movement. There were sharp pains every time he moved his arms because of the strain it would put on his back. In the restroom he stared at the mirror ahead. His eyes were puffy from the constant crying. He turned the faucet on and put his hands under the flowing water. After a few seconds, he splashed water on his face. He had fresh scars along his sides and back. He turned to the shower and turned the water on full blast and as scorching hot as he could get it. While the water heated up, he went outside the restroom and pulled a towel from the closet adjacent to the bathroom. The softness felt good against his chiseled stomach. Back in the restroom, he stood in front of the mirror. He could see someone down the corridor behind him in the reflection. He turned and stared back at him. While the stranger was starting to cry and look at him with pleading eyes, he got angry and slammed the bathroom door.

Walking out of the dark corridor from the bathroom Harry wiped his tears and walked into his room. He sat on his bed and sobbed in to nothing. He was feeling more and more exhausted by the minute. His gashes along his back were still red and inkling blood. He had to pull a towel around his back and tighten it to soak up some of the falling blood. After awhile he got up from his bed and wandered back to the restroom. He dropped the blood soaked towel to the floor. He looked in the mirror and sighed deeply. He turned slightly so he could take a peak at his back…the scars were so fresh.

River made her way back to the top of the stairs. She went to the bathroom with the door ajar. Enough for her to hear what he was saying,

"Why? Why? What did I do? Oh god, please help me. I need you. This isn't the end. I'll kill you. I'll kill you damn it!"

River's silent sobbing was started to overtake her. She walked away and sat in his room. Here, she found comfort in a man she once knew. As she sat there her mind started to recall the events that had unfolded. The war that had begun four years ago had pulled so much out of him that he was only a shell of what he once was. Two years ago began the struggle for his love. He had no way of knowing what Draco would do. He was powerless, just a teen. So in love and he would have to suffer through it.