Crushed Like Ice

Author's (extensive) note

For those who are slightly confused, this was going to be a part of a bigger story. I had to cut it down, for it would be just as big as the Harry Potter series itself. This part is set in James and Lily's sixth year.

Just a touch of backstory; a year before James received a letter to declare his parents dead, but the bodies were never found. Lily knew that, so why did she still treat him like he the little chauvinist he was in fourth year?

A note of WARNING; there is an act of depression induced, suicidal self-hurt in the first chapter.

I don't own Harry Potter

I don't want to be the murderer

James Potter wasn't ever going to ask her out again. She had crushed him. She had seen it in those captivating hazel eyes of his. And yet, instead of satisfaction, she felt riddled with a burning guilt.

Lily knew she shouldn't have insulted his mother, which was low for anyone. But how was she to know it had been recently discovered that his parents were not dead but in fact in St. Mungos for rehabilitation from a years' worth of torture from the rising Lord Voldemort? She didn't, and when he explained to her, his voice breaking as he angrily shouted at her, she had felt very small as she realised the venom in her words.

His emotions were torn, and not only had she reopened old wounds, she had created new ones. She hadn't only ripped his heart open; she had thrown it into the dirt and stomped on it. He had been looking to find solace with her, and instead he found a monster.

Lily curled up on her bed in fear. The last look James had given her was one she never wanted to see again. His eyes dark and brimming with tears of hurt and anger, and now she was wondering if was going to have nightmares because of that last lingering look.

She had become what she was against. She was a bully, and she had brought an ally down to his knees and sucked the life out of him.

Lily got up from the bed, pushing all her thoughts to the back her mind. She needed to escape from it all for a little while, and while skipping Arithmacy was not really advisable at this level of schooling, she felt as if a walk around the lake would be more productive than attending a class.

---

James sat, staring at his paper and yet he could not read. The mornings' events kept churning around in his head. Lily's menacing expression burned into the back of his eyelids. Tears stung at the back of his eyes but he blinked them away. He was not weak, he refused to cry.

'You alright?'

James screwed up his face. Why is it that when someone asks you that you lose all control? 'I'm fine.' James choked.

'Liar.' Remus scorned him gently. 'You need to go…'

'I'm fine.'

'James.'

'Leave me alone.' James scowled at the report he was meant to be reading.

'You shouldn't be here.' Remus said gently.

'Where then? Where am I meant to be? I'm not going back to bed, I refuse to go to the hospital wing, I'm not going back to Evans to see if she's changed her mind, I'm not even allowed to go and see mum and dad!' James was yelling now, not that he cared, for at the mention of Evans his heart had given a terrible heave and tears ran freely.

Ashamed and angry, he fled from the room.

'Don't worry.' A relieved Remus told the bewildered teacher. 'I've been waiting for him to snap. He'll appear again at some point this afternoon.'

James collapsed onto his knees in the safety of the hidden space in the lily bush and fully let himself to his tears. The return of his parents, the idea of them physically and mentally unstable, the fight he had with Dumbledore, the fight with Sirius, the fight with Lily...

James felt miserable. What he wouldn't do for a casket of firewhiskey to drown himself in.

That's not healthy. A little voice in his mind spoke up.

'I don't care.' James said bitterly.

Neither's talking to yourself.

'Well then shut up.'

Make me.

James glared at himself. (How he managed to, only he knows.) He drew out his wand and gazed at it as a few small sparks emitted from the end of it.

What do you think you're doing with that?! His conscious seemed to yell at him, in a voice that was scarily similar to Remus', as he lowered his wand to his wrist, unwrapping the piece of material that was hiding his old scars.

'Doing something I should have done a long time ago.' He answered, cringing as pain seared through his arm.

Read and Review? It's a bit morbid I know, but it gets better from here =3