Fleamont Potter was depressed. He felt empty and he felt like he was nothing. Did he even deserve to live? Did he even deserve the love that his parents gave to him? Did he even deserve anything at all?
Fleamont, in any case, felt like nothing at all.
Fleamont sat in his bedroom one cold, windy day, sitting on his bed, a knife in one of his hands, while he was cutting the palm of his other hand. The cuts gushed shockingly scarlet blood and Fleamont dabbed at the blood and cuts.
"Monty?"
Shit. Fleamont thought to himself. It was his father, Henry Potter.
"Uh, yeah Dad?" Fleamont asked nervously.
"I found blood on one of your shirts." Henry said softly. Fleamont had expected him to be mad.
"Um, are you sure?" Fleamont mumbled under his breath.
"Yes, I'm sure." Henry said, placing his hand on the door. "Can I come in?"
Fleamont gulped. "You might as well." He said, trying to keep the tears from falling.
Henry opened the door and his heart just about broke in half at the sight of his son, his boy, sitting on the bed, covered in blood.
"Monty." Henry whispered and Fleamont looked at him directly into his eyes.
"Dad." He whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." He gulped back sobs.
"Mate, why?" Henry asked gently, sitting down on the bed beside Fleamont. "Please tell me." He said.
"Depressed." Fleamont said. Then he cried out in pain.
"Shit, what's wrong?" Henry said.
"Nothing, honestly, it's my hand." Fleamont said, gasping in pain as Henry gently took hold of his hand.
"Monty, this is not nothing." Henry whispered as he Vanished the knife with a wave of his wand. "You are clearly depressed, you're cutting yourself."
"So? Do I even deserve to have a life? To have friends? To have a family?" Fleamont said, his eyes widening when he realized he said too much. "I, Dad-"
Henry threw his arms around Fleamont, stroking his hair. Fleamont was shocked but soon began sobbing.
"I don't deserve this!" Fleamont sobbed into Henry's shoulder, who was rocking Fleamont backwards and forwards just like when Fleamont was a tiny baby.
"No, you don't deserve being depressed." Henry whispered as he took his wand. Fleamont's eyes widened.
"What are you doing?" Fleamont asked, terrified.
"Just healing your hands." Henry said softly.
Fleamont sniffed. "Okay." He mumbled, letting Henry take his bloody hand.
Henry gulped back sobs as he cast more Healing Charms then he ever cast in his life. Fleamont was clearly exhausted - due to a small Calming Charm Henry on put on him.
After twenty eight minutes, in which Henry wanted to cry, Fleamont's hand was finally healed. Henry noticed Fleamont was extremely pale, almost sickly.
"Are you alright?" Henry asked him. Fleamont shook his head. "Can you try to stand up?" He said quietly.
Fleamont nodded and he stood up but his legs gave out from underneath him but Henry caught him.
"Can't stand. I feel too tired." Fleamont whispered softly. Henry felt tears build up in his eyes.
"Oh, Monty." Henry whispered again as he pressed his hand against Fleamont's forehead. It was boiling hot. "You're boiling."
"Hmm." Fleamont mumbled sleepily as he closed his eyes. "Can I go to sleep, Dad? I'm really tired."
Henry didn't bother to hide the tears any more.
"Okay then." Henry whispered, kissing Fleamont on his boiling forehead. "Have a little rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Thank you." Fleamont whispered, his head dropping onto Henry's chest. His eyes fluttered closed and he smiled softly in his sleep.
Henry didn't move. He just held Monty close to his chest, rocking him backwards and forwards.
Henry kissed Fleamont gently on his forehead and smiled as Monty clutched onto his hand.
"My poor boy." Henry whispered softly as he wrapped a blanket around Fleamont's cooling body. "I'll keep you safe now. Just rest."
Fleamont shifted in the blankets as Henry laid him down on the bed. Henry laid down beside him and stroked his mop of jet black hair.
FLASHBACK
It was a cold autumn night at the end of September. Henry paced in front of the door for a very long time. His father was on a Auror mission and his wife had gone into labor a few hours before.
Henry was undeniably nervous. Charlotte was in poor health for a few years. Henry had been worried but delighted to find out Charlotte had been pregnant for the fourth time. Henry constantly worried about her, which lead to Charlotte weakly telling her husband that she was just fine.
Henry made Charlotte rest all the time and his spare time was looking after Charlus, Edward and Daniel. Henry didn't mind though - looking after his children was one of the things he loves doing most of all.
Now it was nine months later and Henry was walking backwards and forwards in front of the room.
He was just so bloody nervous.
"You can enter now, Mr Potter." The Healer said. Henry nodded as he entered the room. Then he gasped, happy tears falling down his face.
"Twins?" He said, taking in every inch of Charlotte's tired but glowing face. "Bloody hell."
"Harry, language." Charlotte whispered softly as she kissed the small foreheads of the crying newborns, who were wrapped up in bundles of soft white blankets and one of them even had a tiny curl of jet black hair, just like Henry's. "Our boys."
"C-can I hold one of them?" Henry stammered out, the tears still falling.
"They're your sons." Charlotte said, looking at him with nothing but love. "Of course you can."
Henry gently gave Charlotte a kiss on her forehead and to the tiny, screaming newborns.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Charlotte murmured tiredly to the newborns. "It's only your mummy and daddy."
"Here, I'm just going to take one of them." Henry said softly as he took the tiniest baby.
Henry held the squirming but bawling child close to his chest. The child's eyes were spilling tears as they bawled but Henry was crying too. Happy tears.
"Boy or girl?" Henry said.
"They're both boys." Charlotte muttered as she began to cry softly.
"Why are you crying?" Henry said as he tried to sooth the child he was holding.
"Well... They're our boys, our sons." Charlotte sobbed quietly as tears leaked out of her brown eyes.
"I know." Henry said. "Lottie, why don't you rest? You're absolutely knackered."
"I'm fine." Charlotte said, while yawning. "I just want to hold my boys a while longer. Just a while longer."
"Alright then." Henry said, kissing Charlotte on her forehead and smiled at the still bawling newborn baby in his arms.
"Hey, little one, I'm your dad." Henry whispered to the infant in his arms. "And that over there is your mum, see? I only hope you have her gorgeous brown eyes."
"H-arry?" Charlotte yawned as she fidgeted in the bed. "Do you have any name ideas?"
"Fleamont." Henry said. "I promised Gran."
"Then, Fleamont Potter it is then." Charlotte yawned again. "Middle name?"
"Harry." Henry said as Fleamont's loud wails began to quieten to soft but heart warming whimpers. "Fleamont Harry Potter. He's perfect."
"They both are." Charlotte said sleepily as the other child's cries quietened to whimpers just like Fleamont's. "Jackson Samuel Potter and Fleamont Harry Potter, me and your daddy are going to take the very best care of you."
"I only hope they have your eyes." Henry said.
"And they'll look like you." Charlotte said, kissing Henry on his forehead. "Our boys."
For a long time after that, Henry and Charlotte stayed awake cuddling their newborn sons.
Their boys. Jack and Monty.
End Flashback.
Just like that cold winter night so many years ago, Fleamont was whimpering in his dreams. He was obviously having a nightmare, Henry thought as he desperately tried to wake Fleamont up.
"Monty, Monty, wake up!" Henry said, shaking Fleamont hard. "Wake up, please Monty, it's only a nightmare, it's not real!"
At these last words, Fleamont jotted awake. He had tears building in his eyes and he was shaking violently.
"Monty, Monty, look at me." Henry said.
Fleamont looked at Henry, still shaking while wrapped in the blanket Henry had pulled around him before he fell asleep.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Henry said. "Only if I'd rather if you did, because talking helps quite a lot."
"It was-" Fleamont spluttered out. "Awful. I was so scared. Can't really remember it, only that it hurt a lot and I was gonna die."
"See, doesn't talking help?" Henry said, ruffling Fleamont's already unruly mop of hair.
Fleamont nodded as he placed his head on Henry's shoulder. "Yeah, I suppose it does."
"Exactly." Henry said. "Do you want to come downstairs?"
Fleamont froze.
"Don't worry, the others are at Diagon Alley, getting something." Henry said. "Do you want to come downstairs? We can watch the telly."
Fleamont nodded. "Okay then." He said, yelling out in happiness as Henry scooped Fleamont in his arms.
"Dad, I can walk." Fleamont muttered as Henry walked out of the room.
"Too bad, I'm carrying you." Henry said, wrapping the blankets around Fleamont securely.
"Okay then." Fleamont said, sighing happily as Henry walked into the living room and placed Fleamont on the couch. Then he began pressing all the buttons on the T.V.
"D'you want me to help you?" Fleamont asked.
"No, you stay where you are." Henry said as he finally managed to get the T.V working.
"And stay tuned folks, in the next ten minutes we have the newly realised film, The Lion King, coming up."
"Can we watch this?" Fleamont asked.
"Ah, sure." Henry said, ruffling Fleamont's hair again. "I'll get us some snacks."
"Can I come?" Fleamont said.
"Just get yourself comfy." Henry said, even though Fleamont was already quite comfortable. "I'll be back soon enough."
Fleamont snuggled into the pillow and watched the advertisements on the T.V (bloody hell, he would never get used to this thing) and waited for his dad to return.
Finally, Henry returned and with a bowl of different types of sweets and two mugs full of hot chocolate.
"Looks great, Dad." Fleamont said as Henry sat down beside him and handed him one of the mugs. "Tastes great too!" He said happily as he took a deep gulp of hot chocolate.
"Glad you like it." Henry said. Even after all these years, it still warmed his heart when one of his children said Dad.
"The film's on!" Fleamont said excitedly. Henry laughed.
"Are you feeling better now, mate?" Henry asked.
Fleamont thought for a moment.
"Yeah, yeah. I am." He said, beaming.
"Glad to hear that." Henry said softly as the film tune filled the room.
The two fell silent as the film began to play. Fleamont fell in love with the film. He loved the relationship between Simba and Mufasa.
"NO!" Fleamont and Henry both shouted as Mufasa died.
"No, no, no, no." Fleamont sobbed.
"What's wrong?" Henry asked as Fleamont clutched onto him like a lifeline.
"I w-was thinking about what if you died." Fleamont spluttered, tears streaming down his face.
"I'm still here." Henry said softly, stroking his messy black hair. "Don't worry now, I'm still here."
Fleamont nodded as he gave his dad a hug.
"Thanks for this."
Henry smiled as Fleamont cuddled up to him.
"You're welcome. I love you."
"Love you too Dad."
The two fell silent again as Simba ran away from Scar ("Fucking bastard!") and found himself in the middle of the desert with Timon and Pumba.
"Gross!" Fleamont laughed as Simba ate a large, wiggly bug.
"And he enjoyed it!" Henry said, glad to see his boy so happy. He hoped it would never end.
"I would rather the meat!" Fleamont said.
"They're vegatrains." Henry said. "Whatever they're called."
"This movie is funny." Fleamont said.
"I know. But I think it's focusing on tragedy and friendship." Henry said.
"NO!" Fleamont called out as Scar told all the other lions that Simba and Mufasa were dead.
"He's lying to you!" Henry said as Nala tried to come to terms with the loss of her best friend.
The two fell silent as the film continued to play.
Fleamont, who was already quite weak from the blood loss, began to feel warm and sleepy. He yawned as Simba's journey continued.
"You're tired?" Henry said gently as Fleamont lay down on the couch with his legs across Henry's lap.
"A bit. Can I go get changed into my pyjamas?" Fleamont asked, yawning loudly as Henry chuckled.
"Yeah, go ahead." Henry said as he paused the film. Fleamont walked gingerly upstairs as Henry ate a Chocolate Frog.
Fleamont came in the living room, wearing a pair of pyjamas with lions on them.
"Gryffindor. I like it." Henry said as Fleamont sat down on the couch again, his legs across Henry's lap.
"Thanks." Fleamont said as the film continued to play.
Henry smiled as Fleamont lay his head down on the pillow, sucking on a piece of chocolate.
"Oh Merlin!" Fleamont howled with laughter as a grown up Nala pounced on Simba. "Hilarious!"
Henry's heart leaped as Fleamont said again-
"Dad, I love you."
Henry sniffed back tears.
"Monty, I love you too." He said, pulling his son into a tight hug. Fleamont's head dropped onto Henry's shoulder.
Henry could feel Fleamont's thin body beneath the soft fabric of his pyjamas. Fleamont was far too thin for his age.
"D'you think the kingdom will be saved?" Fleamont mumbled as Henry tucked the blankets around him.
"Yeah, I think so." Henry said as Fleamont snuggled into the pillows.
Henry lay down beside him, stroking his hair and wrapping an arm around him. He saw how pale and weak looking Fleamont was and Henry was so grateful for all of his five sons, the three Longbottom boys (who were his godsons) and Minerva McGonagall, his only niece.
The Floo network went off in the kitchen. Fleamont went rigid in Henry's arms.
"Sh, it's alright." Henry muttered softly as Fleamont sat up, shaking violently.
"Harry, Monty- oh." Charlotte said as she stood in the doorway of the living room.
"He's had a complete shit day so far." Henry said, smiling sadly. "Monty, can I tell your mum?"
Fleamont remained silent for a few moments. Then he whispered.
"Alright then."
Henry showed Charlotte the scars that were scattered across Fleamont's small hand.
"My poor boy." Charlotte sobbed as Henry paused the film. "H-how long have you been doing this for?"
Fleamont remained silent.
"Six months." He mumbled quietly.
Henry let out a sob.
"That fucking long? Why didn't you tell us?" He said, the tears in his eyes still threatening to fall.
Fleamont bit his lip nervously.
"I thought you wouldn't care. Now I realise that you do care." Fleamont smiled. "That you love me. That I actually have a purpose in life."
"Monty, of course we care." Charlotte said. "You're our youngest son, our baby boy. You'll always hold a special place in my heart." Charlotte took Fleamont's hand and placed it on her chest. "Right here."
Fleamont felt tears build up in his eyes.
"Thank you." He whispered horasely. "Thank you so much."
Henry wrapped his arms around Fleamont's small body. He could practically feel the bones sticking against his pale skin.
"Have you been eating properly?" He asked.
Fleamont froze.
"I'll take as a no." Henry said softly. "Monty, please stop doing this to yourself."
Fleamont nodded, letting himself sink into Henry's warm embrace as Henry himself rubbed circles on his back.
"Do you feel alright now?" Charlotte asked quietly.
Fleamont nodded.
"Can we tell your grandda?" Charlotte asked quietly.
Fleamont froze yet again.
"I suppose you can..." He trailed off at the end of his sentence.
"Are you sure?" Henry asked. "Because we don't have to if you don't want to."
Fleamont trembled as tears began to fall down her cheeks.
"Yes, you can." He sobbed into Henry's shoulder as Henry gently rubbed circles into Fleamont's thin back.
"I'll tell him myself, you keep watching that film." Charlotte whispered softly, kissing Fleamont on his forehead.
"Thank you so much." Fleamont whispered as Henry lay him down on the couch, Fleamont's malnourished body trembling as he sobbed.
"Calm down before I unpause the film." Henry whispered. Fleamont took breathes as Henry stroked his forehead.
"It's alright." Henry muttered, laying down beside Fleamont and unpausing the film. Fleamont's body trembled occasionally and Henry gripped his hand (softly, as not to hurt his hand)
When Pumba put an apple in his mouth, Fleamont began howling with laughter. Henry grinned.
"Feel better now?" Henry asked.
Fleamont nodded, the tears staining his face as he smiled.
"Yeah, I am." He muttered, quieting down, his body still trembling with laughter.
"Glad to hear it." Henry said, squeezing Fleamont's hand.
Fleamont yawned as he took another bite of chocolate.
"You can take a nap after the film." Henry said as Fleamont yawned again.
Fleamont nodded.
"There's only twenty minutes left." Henry said as Fleamont streached. "D'you want to sleep on the couch or in your bedroom?"
Fleamont smiled sleepily.
"I don't mind to be honest." He said as Simba revealed that he was alive.
"Holy shit! What a way to make an entrance!" Henry said, his eyes widening.
"Holy shit indeed." Fleamont said, shuddering at Simba's thunderous rage.
Henry streached as the film drew to and end and Fleamont grew even more sleepy.
"Yeah, you'll take a nap in your bedroom, it's more comfortable." Henry said as he turned off the T.V.
"Mm." Fleamont mumbled as Henry scooped him in his arms. "Okay then." He nestled comfortably in Henry's arms and closed his eyes.
Henry walked out of the living room to see his father, Alexander, and Charlotte in the kitchen.
"Is it true?" Alexander whispered.
Henry nodded.
"I'm afraid so, Dad." He said. "I'm just bringing him upstairs."
Alexander nodded, sniffing. "Alright then."
Henry walked up the stairs, carrying Fleamont in his arms as he slept comfortably.
Henry reached Fleamont's bedroom and opened the door. He gently stepped over the books and clothes that covered the floor and laid Fleamont on his bed.
"Sh, it's alright now." Henry said as Fleamont began turning and tossing in his sleep.
Fleamont sighed and slept peacefully as Henry lay down beside him, cuddling the small boy close to his chest.
Henry drifted off to sleep, thinking;
You'll never be alone,rhyfelwr bach.