A/N: Sorry I had to put you on 2-day-delay, but Angel says I need to make
longer chapters, so...yeah. Oh, yeah. And I'll be making another Songfic
after this one by I think Daniel Bedingfield. So...enjoy?
Chapter 6: Late Night Conversations and Perfect (Songfic from Simple Plan)
James crawled into his own bed and was lying on his stomach, thinking about his problem. How was he going to explain his bad marks, when Harry had been getting his good marks? This was going to be difficult. He didn't sleep well that night, but when he did, it was only just briefly. He sighed. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. He got up from bed and went down to the common room. He just sat by the fire, staring into the flames, thinking about the fact that he was going to die within 6 years. He wouldn't have noticed anyone's presence if the disturbance wouldn't have said his name.
"James?" Harry asked as he flopped over on the chair. James jumped at the sound of his name. "Y-yes?" He asked him. "I couldn't sleep. I can't imagine what you're doing down here. This is more of the thing that I do." Harry said sadly. James looked at him suspiciously. "There's nothing I'm really up for. Just...uh...Peter's snoring kept me up." James lied. 'Maybe he gets his lying from me and will actually fall for it.' James thought. "I understand how you feel. It's like that guy could sleep through a herd of rampaging hippogriffs." Harry said. James laughed at this. Harry was right. Peter probably could. "You know, you should really be getting back to sleep." James suddenly blurted out. Harry looked at him blankly. "Why? I haven't got any classes tomorrow. Why should you get to stay up so late?" Harry asked.
"Because, you look like you could use some sleep." James said truthfully, nodding towards Harry's eyes. Harry sighed and closed his eyes in defeat. "Fine, I'll go. But remember me like this, for thee may not be the same as thee was at the current moment of time." Harry said dramatically. "Goodnight, James...and...goodbye....forever..." He finished, backing away towards the dormitory with the back of his hand still placed stage- like on his forehead. James laughed. His son sure had a good sense of humor. James thought that there was nothing that could be this perfect except for the following day.
There's nothing that could have messed up the perfect friendship between the Marauders and their newly found partner. Though all Harry did was lounge around in the common room all day while they were in class, the four boys found him extremely helpful. He played the role as lookout when they went out at night to play pranks. He also knew a few more spells than they did due to the fact that he was in a later month when he went back in time.
Anyway, let's cut to the chase. So, the next day, when Harry and James were staying up late again, the two were in an argument about how famous Harry was just because of his stupid scar. "Not like it's anything I want to be famous for!" Harry said defensively. "Oh, sure, you really hate all the popularity, don't you?" James responded.
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do!" "Yeah right! And I'm going to get passing marks in Potions!" "Really? I didn't know that for such an idiot that was possible!" Harry recoiled. "At least I'm not an-an-an orphan!" "That is the last thing I am! I have a family, but they just aren't blood- related!" Harry said, nearly ready to kill his father, before he even got the chance to get together with Lily. "Really? Well, why don't we just test how much your 'family' takes care of you, you self-absorbed, arrogant brat!" "Huh?" Harry began, but before he could continue, he was sent back into the wall with a horrible pain in his chest. His father had just resolved to Muggle fighting. He thought he heard something crack, and his throat hurt badly, too. But he still managed to say, "I think I'm gonna go to bed now," before practically falling down the stairs when he ran into the wall, still clenching his chest.
Hey, Dad, look at me, think back and talk to me, did I grow up according to plan? And do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I wanna do, but it hurts when you disapprove all alone? And now I try hard to make it, I just wanna make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you can't stand another fight. And you can't change me.
Harry had wanted so much to meet his father, but now, he just felt disgusted with himself, and now wanted nothing more than to go back to Ron and Hermione and Hedwig, along with the rest of his friends at school. He had once snuck downstairs at the Dursleys' house to see what Dudley was watching, and it was a movie about a suicidal girl who had problems, because her parents were drug addicts, and he thought about how she made her parents stop their drugs and care more about her. She had smashed her mother's crystal ashtray, and used it to peel off part of her arm, and made it seem as if she was hiding something, and then they forced it out of her, and then they stopped their drugs to help their daughter.
Looking over at his bedside table, Harry saw a glass sitting there. He picked it up, and closing his eyes in pain because of his chest, smashed it against the table, shattering the glass across the floor. He picked up a large shard of glass, examining it carefully. Harry ran the edge of the glass along his finger. He noted how clean it was. 'This isn't as easy as I thought it would,' Harry thought. He sighed. He wished he was back in his home-time.
He missed Hermione, Hedwig, Ron, Ginny, Seamus, Neville...everyone at Hogwarts. Strangely enough, he even missed Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy. 'What in the world am I thinking?' He thought. Why he even had to go through his life, he'd never know.
Cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. I try not to think about all the pain I feel inside, did you know you used to be my hero? All the days you spent with me, now seem so far away, and it feels like you don't care anymore. And now I try hard to make it I just wanna make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you can't tell that I'm alright. And nothing's alright.
Harry made up his mind. He took the blade and ran it quick and hard along his arm. He saw the blood and smiled; finally his father would be nicer to him. He turned the blade on his side, as if peeling an orange, only his arm. A long piece of skin came off, and it looked disgusting, and he could have vomited. When the hot blood was cooled by the night's air, Harry turned over on his side. The thought of regaining his father's happiness made him fall asleep faster.
The next morning, Harry opened his eyes. He saw that nobody was sleeping and they were probably down in the common room. He decided to stay in bed. His plan: stay in bed, they'll worry, come back, help with the horrible scratch, and feel sorry for him again. So, he stayed. He was not going to come out of bed at all. He would starve to death before he let the others force him out of bed. Harry lifted up the blanket to look at his arm. The blood had stained the sheets and blankets, along with his pillow. The scratch was turning deeply infected.
Several hours later, at about...8:30, the boys came back. Harry pretended to be asleep, but when James wasn't looking opened one eye, and looked up at him. But, some familiar urge came over him. There was an odd feeling in his throat. He was going to have a...dun, dun, dun...cough attack! He recovered himself with his blankets slowly, and then let out the cough attack. "James, shouldn't we like, you know, wake him up or something?" Remus asked. James rolled his eyes. "Fine, Moony, go ahead. Wake him up. I don't care." He responded tonelessly. "Geez Prongs, what happened? Just yesterday morning, you two were like best friends. Now you don't even care about him?" Peter asked him. "Nothing happened. It's just, you know, it's his fault. He'll wake himself up when he's coughing, so don't worry about it, okay, Wormtail?" James said sharply.
"Fine, I'll do it myself." Remus said. "Harry? Wake up, will you? You're going to keep us all awake. We need to sleep. You don't. We do." No response came, but Harry stopped coughing, sighed, and turned over on his side, thinking that if he slept on his stomach, it would probably hurt his chest. The lights were getting turned out, and just as Remus climbed into bed, he could have sworn he heard Harry mutter, "Night, Remus." He smiled at this and fell asleep easier. For James, it was something completely different. He couldn't sleep at all. After Remus, Peter, and Sirius, Harry had fallen asleep, and was muttering strange things about how much everyone at this school hated him, and that he only wanted to die now than stay doing what he was doing now.
All of a sudden, the muttering stopped. He heard some moving around slowly in a bed, and then he heard something very strange. He'd never heard this strange, sobbing sound coming from Harry's bed. That was the last thing he'd expected from his own son.
'Cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
Slowly getting out of his bed, James quietly walked towards Harry's bed. He pulled the curtain back slightly. First, he sat down on the bed, and then he took the blanket down from Harry's head. His eyes were red, from what he could see, and his face was pale. James slowly picked Harry head up from the bed, and propped it up on several pillows. Harry wouldn't look up at James. He was too upset. There was nothing that Harry would have wanted more now than to leave or die right then and there.
"Fine, do you not want to talk to me?" James said suddenly. Harry nodded. "Fine. I'll go." James said in defeat. Harry said in a hoarse voice, "You'd never understand anyway," and then slid down the pile of pillows.
Nothing's gonna change the things that you said, and nothing's gonna make this right again. Please don't turn your back, I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you, but you don't understand. Cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
The next day, James approached Lily at lunch. "Lily you know how you said you can get information out on anyone?" Lily nodded. "Well, I sort of need to ask you to get some information out of our dear, future-friend here. You see, he won't talk to any of us, and he was really upset last night. I mean, I don't think I've see anyone's eyes so-so-red. He looked really unhappy, and, uh...I'm not sure why. He probably just misses his friends, but the way he acts, it's as if he's more upset that one of them's gone in his time, and, well, quite frankly, I feel bad for him. I think you would, too if you saw him last night. But as long as other people don't find out about this, well, besides my wonderful roommates, then, his secret's safe with me, and...you too, right?" James asked desperately. Lily smiled and nodded.
Chapter 6: Late Night Conversations and Perfect (Songfic from Simple Plan)
James crawled into his own bed and was lying on his stomach, thinking about his problem. How was he going to explain his bad marks, when Harry had been getting his good marks? This was going to be difficult. He didn't sleep well that night, but when he did, it was only just briefly. He sighed. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. He got up from bed and went down to the common room. He just sat by the fire, staring into the flames, thinking about the fact that he was going to die within 6 years. He wouldn't have noticed anyone's presence if the disturbance wouldn't have said his name.
"James?" Harry asked as he flopped over on the chair. James jumped at the sound of his name. "Y-yes?" He asked him. "I couldn't sleep. I can't imagine what you're doing down here. This is more of the thing that I do." Harry said sadly. James looked at him suspiciously. "There's nothing I'm really up for. Just...uh...Peter's snoring kept me up." James lied. 'Maybe he gets his lying from me and will actually fall for it.' James thought. "I understand how you feel. It's like that guy could sleep through a herd of rampaging hippogriffs." Harry said. James laughed at this. Harry was right. Peter probably could. "You know, you should really be getting back to sleep." James suddenly blurted out. Harry looked at him blankly. "Why? I haven't got any classes tomorrow. Why should you get to stay up so late?" Harry asked.
"Because, you look like you could use some sleep." James said truthfully, nodding towards Harry's eyes. Harry sighed and closed his eyes in defeat. "Fine, I'll go. But remember me like this, for thee may not be the same as thee was at the current moment of time." Harry said dramatically. "Goodnight, James...and...goodbye....forever..." He finished, backing away towards the dormitory with the back of his hand still placed stage- like on his forehead. James laughed. His son sure had a good sense of humor. James thought that there was nothing that could be this perfect except for the following day.
There's nothing that could have messed up the perfect friendship between the Marauders and their newly found partner. Though all Harry did was lounge around in the common room all day while they were in class, the four boys found him extremely helpful. He played the role as lookout when they went out at night to play pranks. He also knew a few more spells than they did due to the fact that he was in a later month when he went back in time.
Anyway, let's cut to the chase. So, the next day, when Harry and James were staying up late again, the two were in an argument about how famous Harry was just because of his stupid scar. "Not like it's anything I want to be famous for!" Harry said defensively. "Oh, sure, you really hate all the popularity, don't you?" James responded.
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do!" "Yeah right! And I'm going to get passing marks in Potions!" "Really? I didn't know that for such an idiot that was possible!" Harry recoiled. "At least I'm not an-an-an orphan!" "That is the last thing I am! I have a family, but they just aren't blood- related!" Harry said, nearly ready to kill his father, before he even got the chance to get together with Lily. "Really? Well, why don't we just test how much your 'family' takes care of you, you self-absorbed, arrogant brat!" "Huh?" Harry began, but before he could continue, he was sent back into the wall with a horrible pain in his chest. His father had just resolved to Muggle fighting. He thought he heard something crack, and his throat hurt badly, too. But he still managed to say, "I think I'm gonna go to bed now," before practically falling down the stairs when he ran into the wall, still clenching his chest.
Hey, Dad, look at me, think back and talk to me, did I grow up according to plan? And do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I wanna do, but it hurts when you disapprove all alone? And now I try hard to make it, I just wanna make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you can't stand another fight. And you can't change me.
Harry had wanted so much to meet his father, but now, he just felt disgusted with himself, and now wanted nothing more than to go back to Ron and Hermione and Hedwig, along with the rest of his friends at school. He had once snuck downstairs at the Dursleys' house to see what Dudley was watching, and it was a movie about a suicidal girl who had problems, because her parents were drug addicts, and he thought about how she made her parents stop their drugs and care more about her. She had smashed her mother's crystal ashtray, and used it to peel off part of her arm, and made it seem as if she was hiding something, and then they forced it out of her, and then they stopped their drugs to help their daughter.
Looking over at his bedside table, Harry saw a glass sitting there. He picked it up, and closing his eyes in pain because of his chest, smashed it against the table, shattering the glass across the floor. He picked up a large shard of glass, examining it carefully. Harry ran the edge of the glass along his finger. He noted how clean it was. 'This isn't as easy as I thought it would,' Harry thought. He sighed. He wished he was back in his home-time.
He missed Hermione, Hedwig, Ron, Ginny, Seamus, Neville...everyone at Hogwarts. Strangely enough, he even missed Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy. 'What in the world am I thinking?' He thought. Why he even had to go through his life, he'd never know.
Cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. I try not to think about all the pain I feel inside, did you know you used to be my hero? All the days you spent with me, now seem so far away, and it feels like you don't care anymore. And now I try hard to make it I just wanna make you proud. I'm never gonna be good enough for you can't tell that I'm alright. And nothing's alright.
Harry made up his mind. He took the blade and ran it quick and hard along his arm. He saw the blood and smiled; finally his father would be nicer to him. He turned the blade on his side, as if peeling an orange, only his arm. A long piece of skin came off, and it looked disgusting, and he could have vomited. When the hot blood was cooled by the night's air, Harry turned over on his side. The thought of regaining his father's happiness made him fall asleep faster.
The next morning, Harry opened his eyes. He saw that nobody was sleeping and they were probably down in the common room. He decided to stay in bed. His plan: stay in bed, they'll worry, come back, help with the horrible scratch, and feel sorry for him again. So, he stayed. He was not going to come out of bed at all. He would starve to death before he let the others force him out of bed. Harry lifted up the blanket to look at his arm. The blood had stained the sheets and blankets, along with his pillow. The scratch was turning deeply infected.
Several hours later, at about...8:30, the boys came back. Harry pretended to be asleep, but when James wasn't looking opened one eye, and looked up at him. But, some familiar urge came over him. There was an odd feeling in his throat. He was going to have a...dun, dun, dun...cough attack! He recovered himself with his blankets slowly, and then let out the cough attack. "James, shouldn't we like, you know, wake him up or something?" Remus asked. James rolled his eyes. "Fine, Moony, go ahead. Wake him up. I don't care." He responded tonelessly. "Geez Prongs, what happened? Just yesterday morning, you two were like best friends. Now you don't even care about him?" Peter asked him. "Nothing happened. It's just, you know, it's his fault. He'll wake himself up when he's coughing, so don't worry about it, okay, Wormtail?" James said sharply.
"Fine, I'll do it myself." Remus said. "Harry? Wake up, will you? You're going to keep us all awake. We need to sleep. You don't. We do." No response came, but Harry stopped coughing, sighed, and turned over on his side, thinking that if he slept on his stomach, it would probably hurt his chest. The lights were getting turned out, and just as Remus climbed into bed, he could have sworn he heard Harry mutter, "Night, Remus." He smiled at this and fell asleep easier. For James, it was something completely different. He couldn't sleep at all. After Remus, Peter, and Sirius, Harry had fallen asleep, and was muttering strange things about how much everyone at this school hated him, and that he only wanted to die now than stay doing what he was doing now.
All of a sudden, the muttering stopped. He heard some moving around slowly in a bed, and then he heard something very strange. He'd never heard this strange, sobbing sound coming from Harry's bed. That was the last thing he'd expected from his own son.
'Cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
Slowly getting out of his bed, James quietly walked towards Harry's bed. He pulled the curtain back slightly. First, he sat down on the bed, and then he took the blanket down from Harry's head. His eyes were red, from what he could see, and his face was pale. James slowly picked Harry head up from the bed, and propped it up on several pillows. Harry wouldn't look up at James. He was too upset. There was nothing that Harry would have wanted more now than to leave or die right then and there.
"Fine, do you not want to talk to me?" James said suddenly. Harry nodded. "Fine. I'll go." James said in defeat. Harry said in a hoarse voice, "You'd never understand anyway," and then slid down the pile of pillows.
Nothing's gonna change the things that you said, and nothing's gonna make this right again. Please don't turn your back, I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you, but you don't understand. Cause we lost it all, nothing lasts forever, I'm sorry I can't be perfect. Now it's just too late, and we can't go back, I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
The next day, James approached Lily at lunch. "Lily you know how you said you can get information out on anyone?" Lily nodded. "Well, I sort of need to ask you to get some information out of our dear, future-friend here. You see, he won't talk to any of us, and he was really upset last night. I mean, I don't think I've see anyone's eyes so-so-red. He looked really unhappy, and, uh...I'm not sure why. He probably just misses his friends, but the way he acts, it's as if he's more upset that one of them's gone in his time, and, well, quite frankly, I feel bad for him. I think you would, too if you saw him last night. But as long as other people don't find out about this, well, besides my wonderful roommates, then, his secret's safe with me, and...you too, right?" James asked desperately. Lily smiled and nodded.