The Kids Aren't Alright

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

Thanks to those who have followed, and favored.


Previously...

"Well, if that doesn't explain everything, I don't know what will."

Albus glared at his brother. "What are you talking about?"

James nodded towards his brother's feet. "Look down, Alby boy. Seems as though you've finally found your match."

Frowning, Albus looked down and immediatly groaned. On his left foot was a black Converse hightop shoe with a maroon lace. His right foot, on the other hand, had on a green lowtop with a rainbow lace. Scorpius Malfoy's fucking shoe.

"Fuck," Albus muttered.


July, 2023

There were days where James Sirius Potter wanted to just fall asleep and never wake up. It wasn't that he wanted to kill himself, for the most part, he simply liked staying in his bed all day.

Where he currently was at for the moment.

It was late in the day, well past noon, but James hadn't gotten out of bed yet. He heard nothing, indicating that his parents and siblings were out. Good. He liked being alone.

Again, he didn't get any sleep last night. He knew that he would eventually crash, but he would have to wait for that, unfortunately.

There were times where he would remember happier times in his family. Watching as 4-year-old Lily chased 6-year-old Albus around the yard, laughing so infectiously that it made everyone laugh along with the little redhead. His mother had watched while she wrote for The Daily Prophet. Harry would eventually join Lily in chasing after Albus, only he would chase after her until he had both kids in his arms. He would swing them around the yard, their laughter becoming more and more infectious. At 8-years-old, James already knew that there was something wrong with him. He faked a smile most days when he felt really sad, and when he wasn't sad, he couldn't stop smiling. He didn't know which was worse. He would watch from his spot on the swing set as his family enjoyed a carefree day. James just swung back and forth until he would throw himself off of the swing. No one thought anything of it, thinking that he was just jumping off the swing and simply lost his footing.

He remembered the day he started Hogwarts. All of the cameras from the reporters had nearly blinded him, and that was just the beginning of a rather tragic day for 11-year-old James. He couldn't find his godbrother, Teddy, or any of his cousins, so he ended up alone in a compartment. A few other kids had entered but lost interest when James refused to talk about his father. Only one girl hadn't asked about his father, she hadn't even mentioned him once, and she had become his best friend. Things had been great between them, even when he was sorted into Gryffindor and her Ravenclaw. She was brilliant, James' only friend. A brilliant artist, she had been. Some of her drawings had been tattooed onto James, with her permission of course.

Her hair had been choppy and dark, her skin always covered in sharpie doodles or blotches of paint. Her smile was wryly and her eyes always sparkled. It had been impossible for James not to fall in love with her.

She loved him too, James had to guess. They had become more than friends by their fifth year, spending all of their free time together, sharing and make secrets together. It was impossible to not think about her, it was impossible to forget her.

By then, James was already hurting himself and whatnot, but it hadn't been as bad as it was now. He had a friend and a lover who took his mind off of things. He had taken her mind off as well, though in different ways. While James hurt himself periodically, she refused to eat. She never told James why, and James never told her why he would hurt himself.

It didn't take long for a little surprise to make its way into their lives.

They were young, both damaged and not ready to take care of another life. They hadn't been able to properly care for themselves. There were no plans made before the tragedy, but they had named names for the little life that ultimately would never come to be. James best friend, the first girl he had ever love, died in an accident that no one had seen coming. Her parents hadn't known about the baby until hearing about from a mortitioner or whatever the person was. James' parents didn't know, not then, and not now. They hadn't even realized that the girl had been his friend, let alone someone he had loved.

"Luke for a boy," she had said to him one sunny day. They were lying down in James' backyard, facing each other. "Lyra for a girl."

James had smiled at that. She had chosen Luke, but he had chosen Lyra. He had heard about the name from a book he had read when he was younger, which he had shown to her as it had been one of his favorites. She chose the other name after Luke Skywalker, a character in one of her favorite movies.

He looked at the tattoo on his left wrist. The 'L' had been for the child neither of them would ever get to meet, 'H' for the girl James had and still does love. If only hope had been on their side just for once.


James doesn't say anything when Lily comes through his window late into the night. He still hasn't fallen asleep, and he hasn't moved either.

"Night, Jimmy," James hears but doesn't respond. He doesn't have any energy to move, let alone speak. He's got so much on his mind, it takes him up completely until he hurts himself to let the pain out, even if it's just for a moment.

He can see the lines on his arms, even in the dark. It's impossible not to get them out of his mind. He always feels guilty about them, so he covers them during the day. He doesn't want anyone to see them. Not his father, not his mother, not anyone.

He can hear his parents arguing with Lily now. Clearly, she hadn't been sneaky enough this time. James briefly wonders where Albus is, most likely still out with the Malfoy kid. James didn't blame his brother for wanting to get out of the house. In all honesty, James wouldn't be here if it weren't for his desire to stay in bed all damn day.

No one bothers James until the very next morning. He still hasn't fallen asleep, and he wonders if it shows yet.

His mother comes in, after having to yell for him for the past twenty minutes. She turns the light on, momentarily blinding James, but he doesn't react.

"It's time to get up, James," his mother orders. James doesn't respond, which clearly infuriates Ginny Potter. "James Sirius Potter, it's time for you to get your lazy ass out of bed!"

James pulls his covers over him, speaking for the first time since...two days ago? "G'way." He hears no response from his mother, but he does hear her angry footsteps and the slamming of his door. he left the light on though.

Why couldn't people just leave him the fuck alone?


So, what do you think?

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

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

Until next time...