Chapter:

"Why a comic book of all things?" James Potter asked his elder son curiously over his shoulder as he automatically put together a sandwich.

"Because Dad," his redheaded son replied with a grin. "All comic books have heroes. I'm the wizarding world's right? And I don't even remember how. At least if I had a comic book I'd actually be able to see myself being heroic!"

"An interesting rationale you have there son," James pointed out as he lifted his newly composed sandwich and took a huge bite of it. His son smiled before racing out of the room, shouting over his shoulder something about Ron before he disappeared, not even noticing his twin sitting quietly at the counter a sparkle shining in his eyes before he too exited the kitchen, giving a father a much more reserved smile as he ambled out.

oOoOoOoO

Was that moment the beginning of the end, Evan Potter asked himself as he sat in the corridor of St. Mungo's, waiting for his parents inside the healer's office with Harry to emerge. Or had it started long before that and it was only now that he was starting to realise it? It was obviously the latter, although the Potter heir could not pinpoint an exact occasion. How was it that only when confronted by his sobbing brother did he realise how much he had lost? When had he stopped looking out for his little brother? When had he stopped caring about him, and yes, he had stopped caring about him.

If he had cared, as was his duty as brother, he would have never allowed Ron to bang down Harry's door, hell, he would have punched him, best friend or not for even insinuating that Harry was evil. But what had he done? Gone along with the whole thing, and not just to placate his friends, but because a part of him was suspicious too. Suspicious that his brother was locking himself away in his room, refusing to come out unless absolutely necessary, going so far as to request his room being soundproofed. He had been there when Harry had requested it, and despite knowing that the latter was requested because he had been so inconsiderate not to moderate his and his friends' activities so not as to be a nuisance, he had added in to the speculation, buying into the belief that Harry was hiding something.

And it was true, his brother was hiding something, but it was far from nefarious. Indeed, it was the best birthday gift Evan had received in his life - and it was one he was not sure he could ever look at without feeling the urge to weep. The comic book pages were embedded into his memory, the careful detail, the craftsmanship, the fact that Harry had even gone so far as to incorporate his favourite adventure novel's plot into the design, adding a depth to it that showed an underlying talent. Harry had spent countless hours working on it, and in the hours before the clock stroked midnight had went into overdrive trying to complete it.

And what had he done?

Stood there with a suspicious look on his face while Ron yelled at a startled Harry who dropped the wand he had been holding and all but dove over something, a move that confirmed his suspicions. Evan remembered the grim satisfaction he felt when Hermione demanded that Harry show the item, not even caring when Ron tried to manhandle his younger brother and he squirmed away, rising and planting his feet determinedly as he fought off Hermione's summoning charm. However, that determined look faded when he saw him standing behind Hermione, obviously doing little to help.

And when he, in the coldest tone possible had demanded that his younger brother hand it over to him and Harry shook his head, looking at him in confusion, and then when Ron yelled at him to drop the "artefact" a look of dawning realisation lit his face. Harry turned, not to Ron, not to Hermione, but to him with an expression of pain on his face so great that Evan felt as if he had been slapped, a feeling that only increased when the first of many tears started coursing down his little brother's face. "E-Evan?" only one word, but with it all the emotions running through Harry was plainly obvious, something that Hermione, even Ron recognised.

There was not the anger of being caught in his tone, nor was there shock or even surprise. What laced Harry Potter's voice was a pain so great that none of them could move for several seconds as he ran out the room, a broken sob escaping him. It was only when Evan heard him stumble did he fly from the room to see Harry struggling to rise, an action hampered by the body wracking sobs that enveloped him that the reality of the situation hit him. "Harry!" he had called but all it did was grant his twin the energy he needed to stumble along, much faster than him despite his distress until they were downstairs, in the room where the adults were and they had the confrontation that had left Evan Potter feeling colder than he had ever thought possible in his life.

Last night was safely the worst he had ever experienced. His father had left him in his room without a word and much later, through his sobs he heard movement in his brother's room next door only to realise it was not Harry alone, but his parents talking in worried tones before silence pervaded. He had not even thought to go to him, for he was trapped in a world of despair as he realised just how much harm he had done. And this morning, after he had finally caught a few hours of restless sleep and had awakened, unsure of what to do, but feeling a pressing need to go to his brother, he had crossed the short distance and after several futile knocks, opened the door, only to scream for his parents minutes later when he found Harry in an unresponsive state. Which had led him to his current position, seated here in the hospital.

He was numb, completely numb and it was all he could do not to break down in tears. The media was around, a passing healer had warned him about half an hour before the wing they were on was on an unofficial locked down, only certified personal allowed in. He did not even know why he was so surprised when he had been informed. He was the boy-who-lived after all; even a simple trip to Diagon Alley had the potential to turn into a media frenzy if care was not taken. Not that he had minded, he thought grimly, recalling his wide smiles and feeling of importance as he signed autographs and answered questions about his school life and his plans for the future. Where had Harry, his antisocial little twin been in at all those times? It was only now that it occurred to him that his brother was rarely in the pictures that graced the covers of the newspapers. His parents were often in it with him, but had Harry willingly slipped away to stay out of the limelight or had he, with his passive nature allowed himself to be pushed aside, lost in the throngs of pressing people? So many unanswered questions, he sighed, leaning forward so he could bury his face in his hands. Eventually there were the sounds of footsteps hurriedly approaching him, and when he looked up was to give his and Harry's godfathers a faint smile.

"What happened Evan?" Remus asked at once, dropping into a crouch and staring worriedly at his godson.

"What happened to Shadow?" Sirius seconded as he dropped down into the seat besides the redhead.

A sad chuckle escaped the boy as his eyes watered and he felt his lips trembling as his eyes slowly met a warm but worried amber gaze. "I happened," was all he managed before the tears and sobs began. Seeking comfort, no matter how small or undeserved, Evan rocked forward, allowing his godfather to accept his weight and press his head against his shoulder, letting him cry without censure. Above him two of the marauders shared scared looks at the cryptic statement, before Sirius put a hand on the heaving teen's back, rubbing gently. It took a while for the Potter boy to calm himself and finally after his tears ceased and his breathing steadied, he explained the events of the previous night, the odd tear or two falling in between. What bothered him more than ever when he was through was that, like his father, there was no disgust for him in either of the men. Only concern and sympathy shone in their gazes.

"Why?" he asked brokenly, as Remus finally rose to settle on the seat besides him and rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Why what Evan?" Sirius asked softly, his fingers carting soothingly through his wavy hair.

"You and dad...why aren't you yelling? Why don't you hate me? I did this to Harry!"

"We all make mistakes Evan," a new voice responded from across the floor.

Turning his head, Evan's eyes widened as his father walked over, his expression neutral as he stopped before his son, and placing his hands on his shoulder, pulled him to his feet. "We all make mistakes Evan Potter, serious ones at that, and I, your mother, Remus and Sirius all understand that. What you did was wrong, and we will speak about it at a later time son, make no doubt about it, but to cast harsh words at you now is meaningless. You understand the ramifications of your actions; even I could see that last night. How can we be mad at you when you obviously have, are and probably will for a long while to come repent for you actions? To rebuke you further would be cruel."

"But mom-"

Understanding, the Potter patriarch pulled his son forward into a tight hug, mouthing a thank you to his friends over his head, to which they nodded. "Is not here because someone has to stay with Harry," he replied, "and, despite everything, she knows that you respond better to me, the way she does with Harry. No matter the fact that you and your brother are carbon copies of us minus the eyes," he teased lightly, if only to bring his elder son out of his depression "Harry is, without a doubt a mama's boy, the same way you are my little stinker."

"Dad..." he said mildly at the nickname from long ago. However, the message was understood. His parents still loved him as much as ever, the past events did not change that. "Thank you," he said sincerely as he drew away and his father smiled and ruffled his hair lightly, pulling him against his side as he spoke to his friends.

"Libby sent you over?" he inquired.

"Your elf is most diligent," Remus confirmed.

"James, how is Harry?" Sirius asked and with that, the eldest Potter found himself pinned by three anxious gazes.

"Harry," he began as he rubbed a soothing hand along Evan's back, "is suffering from emotional trauma."

"No-" Evan whispered horrified at the 'trauma' bit, leading his father to pull him tighter to his side, the touch the only thing currently anchoring him to reality.

"When Evan went to him this morning," James explained further, "Harry was sitting in his bed, staring at nothing. When none of could get a response from him, we brought him here. Why we are taking so long is because the healer – a specialist in mind matters actually has to probe into Harry's psyche to draw him out. More than his own desire to disassociate himself from what happened, Harry's magic, sensing that he was being overburdened, turned inwards..."

"Creating a barrier that numbed Harry's ability to respond," Remus finished knowingly.

"Exactly that," James agreed.

"What...what does that mean," Evans asked softly.

"Put simply Evan, Harry, locked his awareness away. The healer has been chipping away at it all this time, coaxing him back. It is not an easy task and we are not certain what frame of mind he will be in when he emerges from it. Speaking of which, Evan, another healer will be here shortly for you."

Startled, the elder twin pulled away. "Why...I'm fine!"

Sadly, James shook his head. "Based on what we told the healer son, she believes that there is a high probability that you to a milder extent may be suffering from trauma as well. If not dealt with properly Evan it can escalate which is what I originally came out here to tell you."

Twenty minutes later, the boy-who-lived, with his father by his side, submitted to the healer and allowed himself to be talked to and have his mind probed. The healer confirmed that he was indeed wallowing in guilt however not to an extent to cause alarm. Although the healer recommend that he be given a calming potion and some kept on hand, there was no reason to admit the teenager and he was free to go back waiting for word on his brother. With James able to confirm that at least one of their boys was fine, he and his wife traded places, allowing Lily a chance to speak with the son she had up until now more or less ignored since the previous night's occurrence. Pulling her child so that he lay with his head cradled on her lap, she reassured him that her love for him was constant and it was her worry and not any nefarious thoughts that led her to ignoring him. Evan was mildly relieved when informed that it was not solely his actions responsible for Harry's current state.

"Healer Madison says that this has been building up," she explained softly as she combed through his hair idly just to keep her hands busy. Their godfathers had gone to deal with the press at James' request and so it was only them on the isolated corridor. "I always knew that Harry was not comfortable at Hogwarts, but I never realised it was to this extent. Every year, his suffering for a lack of a better word was increasing, this past year, according to the healer being the worst. Last night just pushed him over the edge," she finished softly.

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to reply, when the eyes that Harry shared looked down into his.

"Harry is the one who needs to hear those words Evan, not me," she said softly. "The healer wouldn't tell me exactly what Harry's been through, patient confidentiality I suppose, and quite frankly, I don't want to know any more than necessary before I find myself in Azkaban."

"People hate him," Evan murmured, expressing the realisations he had made the night before. "I never understood that until last night. What Ron kept spouting, those weren't his words alone, they were what the school on a whole thought of him. I always brushed it off, thinking Ron was just jealous that Harry was my twin. I let him Mom, I let him insult Harry, my Harry."

Despite the melancholy on the redhead's face, his mother could not help but smile slightly at the possessive tone he adopted. Here was the relationship between the brothers she was accustomed too, the one where Evan took his role as elder brother seriously, the one, who in their youth would do anything for his green-eyed brother to make him crack a smile. Lily was happy, happy to see that despite the tragedy that had become one of her son's life that there was a silver lining. When Harry recovered, no matter how long it took things would be different. Although she could not fully phantom when the brothers' relationship had started to falter, she knew that at least one of them, Evan especially would do his damnest to make it right. She could only hope that her youngest would be willing to give his older brother another chance.

It was another four days before the healers declared Harry fit enough to return home, days spent removing the barrier before replacing it with dampers, a measure necessary if Harry's magic was not to lash out and recreate a barrier, perhaps even a stronger one, putting them squarely back at stage one. The pain the younger Potter felt was still there but not with the previous overwhelming intensity. He was scheduled for weekly therapy sessions during which the force of the dampers would be gradually lessened, allowing him to slowly deal with his emotions. It was something that would eventually allow him full inner peace and when that time occurred, his treatment would be considered one hundred percent complete. The Potters were all glad to have him back home, although it was plainly obvious that their hopes for a reconciliation between the boys was almost completely dashed. While Harry's reactions to his parents were typical, his demeanour towards his brother was cold at best.

Nothing the healers did could lessen the pain and hurt Harry felt towards his brother in those first few weeks after he came home. He avoided his elder brother as much as possible and actually flinched the first few times Evan approached him, leading to the redhead retiring to his room in near tears. For the first time, Evan was the one being ignored by his brother and the few weeks before he returned to Hogwarts were cheerless to say the least. Not only did Harry's ignorance of him hurt, what was worse was the realisation that this was what his brother felt towards him for the past few years while he was out gallivanting with his friends.

James had had to put a steadying hand on Evan's shoulders the first time Luna Lovegood came over and Harry shot her a brilliant smile, the smile that Harry usually gave him. As his twin led the girl by him, chattering softly and did not even glance in his direction, Evan's world had tilted, and once calm, he had asked his parents if that was how it had been for Harry, sighing in despair when they shot each other a look before almost hesitantly, nodding. It seemed that karma indeed existed, because consciously or unconsciously Harry Potter was giving his brother a taste of what he himself had experienced.

The decision to remove Harry from Hogwarts was a difficult one to make but they all knew it was for the best. Sending him back into the very environment that had brought him to where he was was not feasible and the headmaster, an old family friend graciously forwarded to Lily and James the course materials for what would have been Harry's OWL year. While his peers would sit the examinations in Hogwarts, Harry would undertake his at the ministry after an intense self-study programme. The headmaster had high hopes that the second Potter would rejoin them in time for his sixth year and thus refused to remove his name from the school registry. Evan took the decision the hardest, as was expected. The barrier between the brothers had not lessened in the least, reaching the point where Harry no longer acknowledged him in the slightest.

It was on his last night before he returned to Hogwarts alone that Evan finally gathered enough of his Gryffindor courage to approach Harry and hopefully gain an audience with him. There were things that needed to be said, things that he had to bring out into the open if he was not to leave the home...and his brother behind burdened. Knocking on the door, he waited patiently for his permission to enter. Harry seemed startled by his presence, no doubt having expecting their parents but he said nothing as Evan approached and sat a safe distance away.

After what seemed to be an eternity of silence Evan spoke, Harry looking at him guardedly through the fall of his hair. "Tomorrow's the first," he said softly, "its back to Hogwarts with me and then I won't be home until Christmas." No response, not that he truly expected one. "I-I just wanted to say," he rambled, looking down towards the floor, pointedly ignoring the spot where he could remember Harry sitting and working on his birthday gift.

"I'll miss you Harry, really miss you. I know...I know I have been the world's worst brother to you recently...and I know I deserve you not speaking to me...but I thought...I knew that I couldn't leave here tomorrow without telling you this. I...I don't know Harry...it seems as if...it's like tonight's a pinnacle...and I can't help but feel that if I didn't do this...I would be loosing you forever. I...I failed you Harry...in so many ways...I chose Ron and Hermione over you...I chose everyone over you...my little brother...I don't deserve to have someone like you in my life Harry...and I didn't realise that until all of this happened and I saw that I was loosing you...*still* could loose you. I don't know where to start to make this up for you so I won't even try. All I can do is this.

"That's all I have to say Harry. I failed you...but I still love you...and if ever you think you can trust me again...give me another chance, I'll be waiting. Being your big brother is the best thing I could ever hope for Harry, and maybe one day you can give me the chance to make up for what I've done. Have a good Fall Harry...I don't want to pressure you so I won't write...and won't until you believe me worthy of the honour. I love you little brother and hopefully I'll be able to prove it."

With that said the elder twin rose, disheartened by Harry's continuous silence but grateful that he had at least heard him out and that thought was enough to comfort him as he went about his nightly routine, feeling considerably better and actually somewhat looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. That feeling only intensified the next morning when he awakened and sitting up felt something flutter down to his chest. It was a folded parchment and after pulling his curtains wide, he opened it.

By the time he was through a single tear trailed down his face, but there was a brilliant smile on his face, one that was still in place when he lugged his trunk out of his room, stopping briefly before Harry's closed bedroom door to lay a warm hand against it. "I love you Harry," he whispered before leaving, down to a breakfast with his parents before a journey to the station. And then, while in a carriage awaiting the arrival of his friends whom he had not seen since that dreadful night, he pulled the letter out and read it again, tracing one line in particularly repeatedly, written in Harry's elegant scrawl with a light finger.

Please write to me.