Breath of Air

By: Disco-Dancing on the Roof

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except for characters or some such that I make up... but, seeing as how they're not here yet, I own absolutely nothing. Bugger.

Summary: A series of miscarriages and a distressing prophecy leave Lily Potter an overprotective wreck. Her son quickly begins to suffocate under his mother's stifling nurturing, and unbeknownst to everyone, retreats further and further into himself - until, thanks to a failed Death Eater raid, he comes into contact with the only one who really understands him... AU, slightly Dark!Harry, eventual HPLV.

A/N: (Be warned, there's another one of these at the end...) So. I've been reading WAY too many HPLV fics, and though there are definitely some good ones, they all seem to be chronically un-updated. Thus, I write my own. I'm trying for a very unique spin here... hopefully, it works. But if I seem to be copying someone else's work, please, DO NOT HESITATE TO TELL ME. I hate plagiarism.


Harry Potter awoke that morning to a vague feeling of unease. It was nothing overwhelming, to be sure, and certainly nothing he would ordinarily pay much attention to, but... still... Petite shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. He supposed it did not matter. It was probably just residual from a dream or nightmare of some sort. Harry was no stranger to nightmares, after all.

The three-year-old sighed. He did not like thinking about those; best just to push them from his mind.

Clambering clumsily down from his oversized four-poster bed, its scarlet sheets mussed in silent testimony to his restless night and constant shifting, Harry hit the floor with a muffled thud. Soft, warm carpet greeted cold toes and Harry paused for a second to enjoy these last early-morning moments of lazy comfort before heading into the adjoining bathroom to freshen up for the ensuing day.

Bright green eyes blinked blearily at him from beneath messy raven hair. Harry shot his reflection a cheeky smile. Though he did not necessarily like the way he looked - his mother insisted on calling him 'cute', when he was so obviously not - he rather imagined his appearance held some sort of masculine roughness; he was, after all, nearly four.

Harry brushed his teeth and dressed quickly. He flashed his relection another grin. Though his mother would no doubt disagree, he personally thought that orange dinosaurs were a brilliant fashion statement.


"Morning, Mum," Harry greeted a scant five minutes later as he strolled indolently into the massive kitchen. Wooden beams arced high over his head, both complementing the hardwood floor and contrasting with the marble countertops beautifully, and soft sunlight streamed in through the open windows, a faint smell of spring perfuming the air.

"Morning, baby," Lily returned warmly from her position against the sink. "Did you sleep well?"

He made a face. She sighed.

"Well, try to sleep better tonight, at least. I'll give you a potion if you need it.

He made a much ruder face and she laughed. "Yes, well, we'll see. What would you like for breakfast?"

Harry plopped himself down on the ivory-colored seat of an oaken barstool, small feet swinging idly, and proceeded to rattle off a long list of all his favorite foods. He had just gotten to sausage and chips when Lily made a pained noise and tried to stifle a little gasp, grasping at her middle.

"Mummy?" he asked, concerned.

She tried to smile at him. "It's nothing, baby... Um, be a dear - fetch your father?"

Harry nodded hastily and scampered off to do as bid. James did not wake up as early as his wife and son, Harry knew, but he was usually in the process of getting up right about then. Harry thought he would be in the bathroom, perhaps the shower.


"Uncle Sirius?" Harry asked uncertainly half an hour later. "Where's Mummy? Is she okay?"

Sirius Black glanced down at his godson uncomfortably. He didn't want to lie to the kid, but he didn't want to upset him further, either. He sighed, crouching down so that they could make eye contact.

"Your daddy took her to St. Mungo's, kiddo," he explained, opting for the truth; anything else would have been unfair to Harry. "It's probably nothing huge, but, well, best to be sure, isn't it?"

Emerald eyes looked away from grey and instead directed themselves at the boy's bare feet as he processed this information silently. After a time, he raised his head again to focus on his godfather's concerned face. "It was the baby, wasn't it? Something happened with the baby."

Sirius blanched. He hadn't known that they had told Harry about Lily's pregnancy - hell, he hadn't know the kid was aware what pregnancy was - and he was not quite sure how to answer such a question. "Er," he mumbled after an awkward pause, "Er, yeah, I think so."

Harry's eyes softened in sadness. "When will she be home?"

This, at least, he could answer. Though James had firecalled him out of the blue and asked, abrubtly, if Sirius could watch Harry for the day, he had at least thought to tell his friend when to expect himself and Lily to return.

"Soon, kiddo. Tomorrow morning before you wake up, at the latest."

The boy's shoulders slumped. "I miss her."

"Hey," Sirius reached out and tousled jet-black locks, striving to lighten the mood, "Hey, mama's boy, it won't be so long. Besides, you've got your Uncle Padfoot to keep you company. No rules! We're gonna have a blast!"

His efforts were rewarded with a timid giggle that became more sincere toward its end. Sirius smiled; children were so easy to please when they were young. So innocent.

Somewhat bittersweetly, Sirius wondered how much longer Harry would remain that young, that innocent; he wondered how long it would be before the boy was embarassed by his Uncle Padfoot's antics, before he grew up.

He shook his head. "C'mon, kiddo, let's go play outside. I hear your daddy got you a toy broom the other day?"


Sirius sighed, barely audible above the soft snicking of the heavy door as he closed it behind himself. He was utterly exhausted. He had run himself ragged trying to keep Harry entertained and lighthearted. Who knew such a small boy could have so very much energy?

A small smile graced his otherwise anxious features as he recalled his day. He and Harry had run all over the grounds of the Potter estate and laid waste to the playroom. He was also fairly certain that they'd completely destroyed the kitchen during their ice-cream binge... he grimaced. Actually, he had better go clean that warzone up before Lily and James returned. If Lily so much as glanced at that mess, Sirius was certain he would never be left unsupervised in her home again.

It was while he was attending to that, long hair tied tied back in a silly-looking ponytail that sat far too high on his head and bounced playfully, that he heard a soft murmur of voices somewhere near the front door. Sirius tugged a pair of bright pink gloves off of his hands and removed the frilly apron from around his waist.

"Sirius?" James's voice.

"In here, Prongs," Sirius returned as he took down his hair.

James trudged wearily into the kitchen and immediately sank into a chair, bloodshot eyes drifting closed for a moment in sheer exhaustion. Sirius grabbed two haindpainted ceramic mugs and filled them with the ancient coffee Lily had brewed that morning, seating himself at the wooden table across from his friend and placing one in front of each of them. There was a long pause as they both sipped at the foul stuff.

Finally, James spoke. "She lost it. They don't know why, but she lost it."

Sirius set down his cup and placed a consoling hand on his best friend's shoulder. "I see."

"I dunno, she was doing fine, we had no reason to worry about anything, and then she just lost it." Pained hazel eyes bored into sympathetic grey. "My baby's dead, Sirius."

Sirius lowered his eyes. He really was no good at this. "Well... these things to happen, Prongs. She was still in the early stages; it's not so uncommon." He realized, though, that that might not have been an entirely comforting thing to say, and added, "How's she doing, anyway?"

James ran a hand through ragged hair - he hadn't had a chance to comb it that morning - and tried for a smile. "All right, considering. She's a fighter, y'know? She's upstairs, sleeping, I think..." He fell silent again. "Just, just... my baby's dead."

Sirius hugged his friend close. He didn't know what else to do.


"Mommy?"

Lily froze, unsure, then carefully navigated her way across the deep golden carpeting of her son's darkened bedroom. "Hi, baby," she murmured, "How's my little guy?"

She could make out a form darker than the surrounding shadows sitting up in the black rectangle that was Harry's bed.

"I missed you," the child whispered gently. "Are you okay?"

Lily choked back a sob. "Fine sweetheart, I'm fine."

She did not think Harry had caught the slight emphasis on the pronoun; she saw no reason he would. Harry had had no idea she was pregnant (she had not been sure how to broach the subject) , no idea that he had just lost a sibling.

"Oh." Silence reigned for a moment. "Good."

She leaned down to hug him, settling herself on his bed. So much love and tenderness had been contained in that one word. Gods, but she loved her son. So sensitive, so warm, so caring. So innocent. Such a wonderful little boy.

Her arms tightened briefly. She wasn't going to lose this baby, too.

She'd heard from Dumbledore. He'd told her things - such awful things - things she had no intention of seeming come to pass. Things about Harry, but - no! Let it be the Longbottom boy. Lily would feel horrible for him, of that there was no doubt, but...

"Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, Mommy."

...nothing, and no one, was going to harm her son.


Lily paused, suddenly hesitant, at the statue. She was not entirely sure why Albus had called her here - in truth, she had somewhat less than no idea - but she had gotten the feeling that it could not be for any reason she would like. He had owled her so suddenly, offered her no explanations, and simply demanded that she meet him at his office in Hogwarts as soon as she possibly could.

She whispered the ridiculous password nervously and stepped onto the spiral staircase, trying to sooth her rapidly fluttering heart as she ascended.

"Lily, dear," Albus greeted warmly as soon as she had entered. "It is nice to see you."

Lily sat down across from his desk and fidgeted. "Why did you want to see me, Headmaster?"

The ancient wizard's eyes dimmed slightly as he regarded her, his whole countenance seeming to sag to the earth. "I am afraid I have some rather strange, unpleasant news, my dear."

She really, truly did not like the sound of that. "Strange?"

The headmaster nodded. Cleared his throat. "Lily," he began, "Do you believe in prophecies?"


A/N: What did you think? Please tell me (in a review, hint-hint); I'd love to know! Seriously. I get all depressed when no one reviews and quickly lose my will to write. No joke. I'm just that pathetic.

Also, it may seem like I have a little plothole in here, in regards to Harry's knowing about Lily's pregnancy even though she did not inform him. I don't. I swear. There are many things in this chapter that will be explained later, so just sit tight.

Same goes for the total lack of Tom-ness in this. He shows up eventually (I dunno how soon, since I've already trashed my outline, but it won't be too long). So, again, just sit tight.

And review! Er, please?