A/N : Harry Potter and all the characters and the offical story line and props do not belong to me. They are all J.K.'s wonderful creation. She has surely been blessed with it. But please enjoy this fabrication, ne?

The Lost Heart

Chapter One

James Potter was afraid.

Terrified.

Out of his mind with it.

And with all of his might he tried to concentrate on the battle, the present, what he was doing. But it had become near impossible, if the numerous gashes and cuts on his body were something to go by. James swept his hazel eyes to the right once more, before being blasted off his feet by the Death Eater that he had been dueling. James flew back several feet before landing roughly on the floor, off of the large pedestal that the archway was sitting on.

It had been no time at all since the warning had occurred at the headquarters, at the late Sirius Black's home. That the Boy-Who-Lived had run away from the safe confines of Hogwarts and had reached the Ministry—and was in definite danger. Lured there by the false vision from Voldemort, that the dark wizard had captured his father.

The Members of the Order of the Phoenix were also informed of exactly who had been brought along on this inane journey. There was Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Three of them were mere fifth year students of Hogwarts while two of them belonged to the fourth year. They didn't have anywhere near the knowledge of the experience to go against fully grown and older wizards. Not to mention that their opponents, Voldemort's minions, were Dark Wizards.

And James was terrified out of his mind, his son, his Harry, was out there without him or Lily there to protect him. The very idea sent James clawing his way back on to the dais of the archway, where all the dueling was occurring. Lost amongst the Order Members and the Death Eaters were those children. James had seen them earlier before everyone had scattered after the first curse was thrown. There was no doubt about it that those students had been caught up in the fighting, were participating in it.

Were being injured in it—and unable to find their way out amongst the dark and unable to tell the difference amongst the common black robes that everyone wore.

James cursed Wizarding fashion. If they didn't see the mask, they didn't know who it was.

A hand clamped down on James' shoulder and hauled him back on to the dais when James found that he couldn't haul himself up and needed the stairs (but the stairs were a rather dangerous area at the moment). James almost reflexively punched whoever helped him in the gut, but he glanced up to see the slightly bloody face of Frank Longbottom. Sending each other small, tight smiles, the two fathers went their own ways. Diving back in to the battle.

They both had sons to find.

Harry Potter was afraid.

He didn't know how Neville had talked him in to coming this far—and he had come pretty far compared to what Harry would have done on his own—but somehow that guy had done it. Harry was used to being the last in his classes but with Neville's help he had improved greatly in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the confidence from that accomplishment that had led Harry Potter to where he was currently standing. He was sorely regretting that confidence.

He was sorely regretting letting Neville and Ginny talk him in to this. He was regretting that Ron had bullied him in to this. And he was regretting the fact that he had dragged Luna in here with them all. The poor fourth year girl—Harry hadn't seen her since the Death Eaters had appeared in all their Dark glory.

But here he was. Afraid.

He was sorry that he hadn't written his parents in a month now. He was really sorry. He was sorry about all the awful things that had been said. He didn't mean to say it! Not really..

But he was trapped now. Trapped! Stuck between a crazy Death Eater and a fluttering black drape. A bloody huge drape, but it was still a piece of cloth. And Harry didn't know why he was getting the most horrible chills from being around or near the thing.

"Imperio!" The Death Eater shouted, elegantly swinging his wand in Harry's direction. The spell was incoming and Harry found that he could only back up, there was no room to jump to the sides. There were people, too many people on either side for him to move. And the first of the unforgivables blasted him straight in the chest.

Harry had honestly been expecting pain for his first encounter with the curse. Instead he felt light, happy.

Content and unafraid.

Without resistance, his body followed the commands of the caster of the spell. And Harry didn't mind, he felt safe and protected like he always felt when he was with his parents. After being in a constant state of terror for so long this peace was wonderful.

Harry never wanted it to leave.

They had all fallen in to a stand still.

Dumbledore and Voldemort stood on opposing sides at the stairs of the dais. A squirming, pained Neville grasped in Voldemort's chilly, disgusting hands. Dumbledore was shaking in what looked like anger as he glared down at the enemy.

Voldemort had a chilly smile on his lips.

Just behind Dumbledore stood Frank Longbottom, wand trained on the dark wizard as his eyes drifted between that man and his son. He looked fairly sickened that his son was grasped in that monster's hands. The forces or Light and Dark were separating. Moving to amass behind their rightful leaders, but one thing was painfully obvious.

The Death Eaters had caught most of the students. Ginny, Luna and Ron had been found during the battle and collected and promptly shoved to the near back of the Light forces, to be sent out in a second once they gathered the rest of the young ones. They only had so many portkeys to and from this place that led to near Hogwarts. Only certain people held those special portkeys as well. Mainly Dumbledore, since he worked at the school. Generally, most of the members of the Order had portkeys that led back to their base.

Harry Potter was in as much a pickle as Neville. Though he wasn't struggling or in pain at the moment. The dreamy look of the imperio on his face sent chills down James' spine as he glared at the cruel hands around his son's shoulders.

"Give up, Albus." Voldemort finally hissed, tightening the grip he had on Neville's shoulders and jamming the tip of his wand further up and in to the underside of the boy's jaw. Painful against the soft flesh—causing the boy to whimper slightly. His famous lightning bolt scar was red and pulsing on his forehead through his bangs like some sick thing that was alive and burned for its own freedom.

Dumbledore shook his head, giving Tom a sad look as he spoke, "no, Tom. It is you who should give up. You can not win." The sad voice had disappeared with each word, and Dumbledore's voice was soon strong once more. Of course, this was not the answer that the other wanted to hear. Not even the underlying answer was something the Dark Wizard once known as Tom Riddle wanted to hear.

Even if there are sacrifices, no one will give up to you.

Lipless lips pulled back on Voldemort's face as he gave Albus a look of pure contempt. "I was only after one life tonight, but you have merely doomed another!"

Lily didn't stop the scream that came as her son was pushed in to the black curtains. The heavy drapes sweeping out and toward her child like a sentient being ready to devour her baby whole. The scream was enough to break the small reprieve as the Light's forces swarmed forward and against the Death Eaters.

Lily and James could only watch as their son started to disappear in to the black nothing that lied behind the curtain. They had been too far away to do anything, not even a summoning charm could pull the boy back. He was too far gone.

Maybe it was good that their only son was to die in the blissful state of the imperio.

Dumbledore's spell sent Voldemort flying threw the air. Voldemort had already had the killing curse on his lips, ready to end Neville's life, but his violent departure sent his arm flying wide, the curse moving away from a frozen Longbottom and in to the crowd of the Order of the Phoenix.

Someone went down.

Frank gleefully swept his son in to his arms and dragged him toward the other students.

James and Lily were left to watch the drapes of the curtain close around their son. The Death Eater that had pushed him in already lay on the floor in a mass of blood courtesy of Mad Eye Moody. They couldn't speak, they couldn't look away—there was no looking away from the murder of your own child.

They were more numb then sad.

It was too quick and too sudden.

Had he fallen out the other side?

The curtains swept out again, ragged edges sweeping up and in to the ceiling as if to give anyone who looked a glance in to its secrets—bloating and shifting as if on the other side of the whimsy material was a mass of writhing bodies trying to claw their way out of the tomb they had landed in. Expanding and flowing out and out and out till the raggedy edges of the sickening veil almost seemed to be suffering a strong wind that no one felt.

And two bodies tumbled out of it. The larger one practically clawing away from the shadows with Harry in his arms, clutched to his chest with a shaking arm. The drapes fell down, falling on them and near dragging the duo back in but the bigger body somehow got enough coordination to pull them out of reach.

The man stumbled to his feet, sweeping the limp body of Harry up in to his arms with a gentleness of a man holding his own soul. Lily's arms burned to hold her son once again. Her body tumbled forward and toward the pair that was continuing to stumble away from the veil.

James as at her side and her baby was in the arms of a stranger. A stranger that had saved his life but a stranger all the same—Lily wanted her baby! James focus was on the man's back as they raced forward. The long, lank black hair looked like it needed a good washing and cutting for some order. It laid tumbled across skinny shoulders like a limp, dead thing. The thin black robe didn't do much to hide the skinny frame.

James didn't know anyone so skinny.

James didn't grab his son. His hands clamped down on the man's shoulders and dragged him to where the Order was gathering up. The children—they needed to be brought back to Hogwarts. Harry needed to go to the Hospital Wing. He needed it, he had survived something that wasn't supposed to be survived! Lily gasped and went pale at his side but James ignored it.

His son was so close. He need to move, they needed to move. Go, go and run!

James found the other children in the back, Moody gathering them all together as he stuck a portkey he had attained from Albus under their noses. The Weasley boy was sporting an ugly, freely bleeding gash over the side of his left face and his sister looked a little green around the gills as she stared at him. Luna was clutching an arm, eyes wide and clear and surprisingly intelligent as opposed to the dreamy state James had known her whole family to have. Neville was relatively unharmed, but the shame on his face was easy to read like an open book.

When he saw Harry, there were actually tears in his eyes.

James didn't let go of the man—he wasn't struggling, though he was gasping for breath like he had run too far. He perked up when he saw the other kids, James assumed he was some new recruit for the Order. James reached out and grabbed an edge of the portkey—a used newspaper this time. The man shifted Harry and grabbed on to the spot next to James with a dirty, bloody hand.

Neville reluctantly and finally grabbed a hold. Luna's eyes flashed before she said "reperio lupus."

Hook, line and sinker—the portkey activated like a bunch to the gut followed by the feeling that came when one rode a muggle rollercoaster. Or that was what James thought it felt like since his wife and pulled him and his son to a muggle festival of a sort.

James cast a quick, anxious eye on his group. His wife wasn't there. He would be anxious, but he believed in her capabilities to make it out of their alive. So he held on tight and closed his eyes. He landed harshly on the ground in side the hospital wing. The sterile stench was a comfort. It spoke of safety.

"Madam Pomfrey?!" The stranger was up and on his feet.

James blinked. Pomfrey was at the battle, Remus had taken over the Hospital Wing… Everyone knew that. That man had the kid's attentions now as he frantically moved around.

The back door to the Hospital Wing's burst open as Remus ran in to the room. Drawn by the frantic shouting. He stopped dead just a few short feet from their group, eyes as wide as saucers. Only one word left his mouth—something that James didn't think he'd ever hear from the man.

"Sirius!"

A/N ; Okay.. so it's not the Demon Diary thing. I'm working on it, really. The next chapter is halfway done... and has been for a while. I guess I'm just not inspired for it. This is that classical 'Sirius goes through the veil and comes out the other side gig. If someone has done something like this... well, be nice and share. Though, this universe will uniquely be my own. Don't worry about it, I plan to make things happen. Whenever I get around to it.