The Kids Aren't Alright

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Summary: In an instant, Harry Potter's three children grew up right before his eyes, though not in the way he expected. James was one step closer towards being locked up in St. Mungos, again. Albus, he was one step closer to being locked up in Azkaban, if Harry didn't know any better. Lily, Harry didn't even know what in Merlin's name she was doing.

Notes:

James Sirius Potter-b. 2004-Dark Brown Hair-Brown Eyes

Albus Severus Potter-b. 2006-Jet Black Hair-Bright Green Eyes

Lily Luna Potter-b. 2008-Red Hair-Brown Eyes

Warnings: Profanity, self-harm, and thoughts of suicide, among other possible triggering moments.


July, 2023

Harry sometimes wondered where the time went. He would check under his desk, hoping to see 8-year-old Albus hiding under there, waiting to jump out and scare his father in amusement. He would check outside the window, expecting to find 10-year-old James hanging out the window, laughing himself silly while Harry ran to retrieve the daredevil of a child before he fell. He would check his desk chair, and hope to find 6-year-old Lily spinning herself until she tired herself out, but a bright smile forever present on her face.

Harry missed those days. Those days were the best, and sometimes the worst. The best, for they had brought, at least most of the time, a smile on his face. They got him through the Hell of work, through the arguments he would have with Ginny, through the times that he remembered the awful parts of the war. The worst though, simply because they were now apart of his past.

No longer did James hang himself out of his bedroom window by his feet, he simply did more damaging things simply because it couldn't hurt more than the thoughts in his mind.

No longer did Albus hide under his father's desk, he simply hid from the Aurors who were always on his tail after he did something less than legal.

No longer did Lily spin herself asleep in her father's chair, she simply spun herself out of Harry's sight completely, hardly ever home, never in his line of view.

His children were no longer children. It was something Harry had a hard time admitting to himself. He sometimes wondered what he did wrong to get to where things were at now.

Or what he had failed to do.


Harry watched as 17-year-old Albus made his way into the kitchen. He had a copy of The Daily Prophet in his hands, a plate of bacon and eggs next to him.

Lanky and thin, Albus was the tallest member of the Potter family, only an inch away from being taller than any of his Weasley uncles. His black hair was unkempt, and if Harry had known any better, unwashed. His bright green eyes, Harry's eye color, had dulled considerably over the last few years. A spider bite ring piercing was seen on the right side of his lower lip, something that had nearly given his maternal grandmother a heart attack when she had seen it. A series of piercings also appeared on the teenager's ears.

Harry said nothing as Albus sat down at the table. Ginny, who was coming forward with her own breakfast, frowned as she sat down next to her husband.

"You're up early, Alby," she said, lightly smiling.

Albus merely shrugged as he got up and walked over to the stove and started to make himself some coffee. He preferred the hot drink more than he did tea.

Ginny looked at her husband, who was as concerned as she was as they watched the teenager fail to make himself of food. Rarely did the Potter's ever see Albus eat, and when he did, it was only when he got fed up with his mother or grandmother's persistent fussing.

That was when James entered. At 19, his previously black hair had lightened into a dark brown, and his skin no longer was clear of any suspicious blemishes. He was tall, taller than Harry, but a few inches shorter than his younger brother of two years. His brown hair was even wilder than Harry and Albus' put together, though it was simply because the young man failed to properly take care of it. It was recently cut, but Harry wondered when the next time the teenager would get it done again. Probably when his mother forced him to, as per tradition. He too had a series of piercings on his ears, as well as a few tattoos he had gotten before he was of age, something that still peeved Ginny to this day.

"Morning Jimmy," Harry said to his eldest son, who gave his father a smile that was suspiciously too wide for Harry's liking.

"Morning Dad, Mum," the young man said as he made his way towards the stove. He wore a long sleeved shirt, despite it being summer time. A red flag for Harry, but he couldn't confirm if his son had hurt himself recently. James had gotten far too good at keeping secrets, even more so than his siblings, who were rather secretive in their day-to-day activities. Harry and Ginny didn't know anything about their oldest child unless they were told by someone else. Harry watched as the thin young man piled his plate up with food.

Harry looked away as his two sons sat at the table. James started eating, while Albus merely sipped at his hot and bitter drink.

"Where's Lily?" Ginny asked her two son's, knowing that if they were up, their sister would most definitely be up. She could have sworn she heard her only daughter arguing with one of her brother's earlier about hogging the bathroom, per morning tradition.

James shrugged while Albus answered, his voice void of any positivity. "Out, I'd imagine."

Ever so helpful, Albus was not. It was an answer though, Harry simply marked off as his daughter not being in the house. Again. He stopped questioning where his youngest went after a long battle back-and-forth between himself and Ginny versus their 15-year-old daughter. As long as she didn't come home with anything on or pierced to her skin, or with a positive pregnancy test, Harry had to believe that his daughter wasn't out causing any trouble.

If only.

He sometimes wondered what had caused the disconnect between him and Ginny and their three children. Was it because of his unwanted fame? Was it because he was always at the office? Was it because Ginny was always at her office? Or was it because the bitterness and angst of teenagehood had finally made its way through the Potter children?

Harry didn't know the answer, no matter how much he sought it out.


So, what do you think? Should I continue?

I know there might be some mistakes, so I apologize.

Please, review, like, and/or follow. That would great.

Until next time...