Memo: Well thanks for all the reviews and comments. Read them all, probably replied to hardly any but that's just who I am.

Anyway, I met an average person on the net, who is writing a book called "Regnum Resurrection" So if you don't mind go visit her: http://kossmoe.deviantart(dot)com (Which also has brilliant art), And leave me a private review so I can forward it onto her or if you already have a deviantart account go comment on her homepage.

Hopefully the story will be moving on now, you'll be introduced to a couple of characters who will play a part in the plot.

At the exact same time that Draco and Hermione were talking about how Hermione meant everything to Draco on the night before she fell down the stairs, Benjamin Harris sat in his large armchair, wearing the same clothes as he had for the past several days. His beard was unshaved and scratchy, his eyes bloodshot and swollen. His thinning hair seemed almost completely gone in the dim light of the den. He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes.
In his hands was a glass of bourbon. He swirled it around and listened to the ice chink noisily against the glass sides. He let out a shaky breath and rattled the ice even louder. He squinted against the tears and let out a strangled sob before getting control of his emotions once more.

This wasn't fair. This wasn't right. No one deserved such a fate. No one deserved to be eaten alive by an illness they had no control over… he tilted the glass back and swallowed the burning liquid hungrily, wishing to numb the pain and stop the endless flow of tears.

"Dad?" a voice asked from the doorway into the den. Benjamin's eyes were itchy and he rubbed at them. He placed his spectacles on the bridge of his nose and then looked at his youngest son, who was sixteen years old.

"Hey Billy," he said and felt the bourbon gurgle in his stomach and burn his throat. He gave his son a watery smile. "Come on over," he said and patted the arm of his chair.
The young blonde man with incredible green/blue eyes and a bright smile had a look of sadness on him as he approached his drunken father.

"Dad, please don't drink," Billy pleaded as his father stood and picked up a large bottle. The liquid poured over the rattling ice. He filled it to the brim and then sipped it down so he could carry it back to his seat.

"Why not? Why can't I drink? My son will never again taste the fine quality of this bourbon. I am doing this in his honour!" Benjamin cried out and then gulped at his beverage, it spilling over the sides of his mouth and wetting his shirt.

"Dad, we don't know if Nathan is going to react to chemo or not," Billy told his father reassuringly. "He can still pull through," he added. Tears burned at his eyes. His brother, Nathaniel Harris, twenty-four years old, was dying of leukaemia.
Nathan the great wizard. He had been a Prefect at Hogwarts. He had graduated with top marks. He had just been qualified to become an Auror when the cancer made itself known in his system.

"My boy, this is a punishment. I have been a sinful man and god is telling me this by taking away my son," he said and rubbed at his eyes again and then cursing wildly at the smallest amount of alcohol that got into them.

"Dad! You need to stop blaming yourself. It's no one's fault that Nathan has cancer," Billy told him.

"Don't say that cursed word!" Benjamin shouted and then drowned his pain in the final swallow of bourbon. In a rush of anger he chucked the glass at the wall and it shattered to pieces, tinkling noisily on the floor.

"Accept it! He has CANCER! He is DYING! You drowning yourself in self-pity and alcohol aren't going to save him, Dad! Being there for him, being optimistic, and being his family will!" Billy snapped at his father. Tears filled the older man's eyes and he buried his face in his hands and cried silently. He did not want his son to see him in this state of mind.

"I can't help him… what's the point of being a doctor when you can't even help your own SON!" Benjamin cried out. Billy shook his head.

"Dad, you're a great doctor. You're one of the best! But leukaemia has nothing to do with neurology," Billy whispered shakily. "You've saved so many lives… why not let someone else save your son's? Don't you think that countless other fathers have felt this way when you operated on their children?"
Benjamin collapsed into his chair.

"I just hope that bloody wizard hospital can do something for him," he muttered. Billy smiled confidently.

"I'm sure that they can, Dad. In fact, I'm nearly positive," he said quietly. Benjamin nodded as his eyes slowly rolled up into the back of his head. He tried to stay conscious, but the bourbon was taking its toll on the older man who had very low tolerance for alcohol. He was a doctor who did not believe in drinking, but circumstances had changed.
Billy sighed and placed a blanket over his father as he began to snore quite loudly. He quietly swept up the broken glass and threw it away. He left his father to sleep off the alcohol in the end.
Closing the door he headed into the kitchen. He sat down at the table and folded his arms, resting his hot head on the clammy skin of his forearms.
Ginny would have helped him. She would have comforted him. She would have wrapped her arms around him tightly and told him that everything would be all right. She would kiss away his tears and he would inhale her sweet scent and stroke her beautiful red hair.
But when he found out about his brother's cancer, there was just too much for him to handle. Going to school, dealing with the illness, helping his father cope, and just plainly coping was hard enough. He couldn't handle being dutiful and caring to a girl god knows how many miles away. There was just too much going on, and he didn't need to drag her into it.

He missed his mother. She had been taken away from him when he was just a small boy. She had lung cancer that had slowly developed over the many years of chain smoking. His father would not have been able to deal with losing two of the people he loved most to cancer. If Nathan died, Benjamin Harris would no longer be Billy's father. He'd be a hollowed out and numb shell, constantly relieving his sorrows by guzzling down alcohol and taking out his frustration on the glasses that he smashed and possibly even Billy.

He crept upstairs slowly. He was dreading this. He was dreading seeing Nathan. But still, he slowly opened up the door to his brother's room.
Nathan sat at his desk, flipping through a booklet of something. His shaved head made Billy cringe. He used to have a thick head of incredible dark hair, just like his mother. Now his scalp was pale and smooth. It was all because of chemo.

"Hey Nathan," Billy smiled and walked inside. Nathan turned around in his computer chair and smiled at his little brother.

"Hey Billy. How's dad?" he asked. "I heard you two shouting… about me," he added slowly. Billy sighed and nodded.

"He's… sleeping," Billy answered slowly. Nathan knew it meant that their father was unconscious, but still said nothing. He looked so exhausted, Billy noted. Dark circles were under his eyes and he was so pale compared to usual. He had been Billy's role model for so long. He had been smart, handsome, athletic, and the nicest guy he had ever met. Now the cancer was slowly killing him and Billy could see that the spark of life that had once been there was slowly dimming.

"Yea… he's been doing that a lot lately," Nathan laughed awkwardly. "Come here, I want you to see something," he said. Billy walked over to Nathan and at the small book he had. "My friends from school all heard about me, so they made a collection of memories and of the future," he sighed. Billy cocked his head at first, and when he saw the photographs he smiled.
He loved everything that had to do with magic and envied his brother endlessly for his gift.

Billy saw photographs of his brother throughout his many years at Hogwarts, with friends and professors. He smiled at pictures of Nathan wrestling with his friends. There were more pictures of those friends all grown up, some of them married with children, and they were all waving brightly at Nathan and Billy.
Billy sighed loudly.

"You have some pretty great friends," Billy mused. Nathan nodded and took a pencil in his hands. He began to twirl it about, and then he rapidly tapped the eraser against his cheek.

"Yea they do have their moments. We have that appointment tomorrow at St. Mungo's, right?" he asked. Billy nodded. "They'll be able to make me better, Billy. Don't you question it," he said with a reassuring nod. Billy clenched his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the tears back.

"I'm… I'm going to bed. Good night, Nathan," he said and turned, walking out of the room to let the dying boy bask in the glorious memories of school years.

"Hey Billy?"

"Yea?"

"I love you, little bro," Nathan said sincerely. Billy gave his brother a watery smile.

"Love you too," he said and then rushed from the room, into his own bedroom, and threw himself down on his bed and began to cry