Title: Lost in Grief

Pairing: Mentions of Lily Potter x James Potter

Warnings: Mentions of self harm, and character death.

Summary: When Lily Potter died, James entirely pulled away from his son. Unknown to him, it hurts Harry to the point of self harm, and his life hangs in the balance. As the blood spills to the floor, will James make it in time to correct his past mistakes, or will Harry die a lonely and painful death?

Story Type: Oneshot for the Fathers Day Challenge in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments) forum.

It hurt…

That was the only thing a young Harry Potter could think as he sat on the floor of his bathroom. His hair, while slightly long, laid jumbled up in a mess on his head. It slightly resembled the 'just shagged look' so many teenager girls raved about, but at this moment it resembled a birds nest. Pale, milky white skin almost shined in the darkness that bathed the room, and emerald eyes gleamed in the moonlight.

Tears went unheeded down Harry's cheeks as his mind switched from memory to precious memory. In one, he saw his mother. Her beautiful and mesmerizing crimson hair swayed gently in the wind, and emerald eyes so much like his own, glimmered in happiness. With one motion of her hand, she beckoned him towards her, and he followed the wordless order obediently. A smile of utter glee took residence on his face as he was wrapped in the safe cocoon his mother's arms provided.

However, as if it were all a mere dream, everything began to change. The once clear sky was now littered with dark and stormy clouds. Thunder echoed through the distance, and brilliant flashes of lightning flashed across the sky at random intervals. Rain poured down steadily, and the tree leaves dance violently because of the wind's ferocity.

Startled by the sudden change, the eleven year old look up, only to fall to his knees when his mother was suddenly so far away. Fog rose around her, and soon enough she was being immersed in it. Panic overtook his senses, and Harry screamed. Trying to run towards his rapidly disappearing mother, Harry violently tried to get himself to move. However, his legs wouldn't follow his commands. His mother was further shrouded in the fog, and soon she was totally immersed.

His cries fell on deaf ears, and soon he was alone. In his despair, Harry didn't notice the phantom pain that lingered in his knees, and the tears that steadily made their way down his cheeks. Sobs violently wracked his body, and suddenly a cold feeling seemed to envelope him. Furthermore, images of his mother vanishing in the fog kept plaguing his mind, yet no matter how hard he tried to move and get to her, he couldn't.

So caught up in the desperate need to get to his mother, Harry didn't notice the soothing presence behind him until it was gone.

Suddenly the scene was replaced by something far more darker, and Harry whimpered upon noticing that he was standing in front of a grave with a name displayed in bold letters.

Lily Nee' Evans

January 30, 1960-October 31,1981

Died while fiercely protecting her child while her husband was out.

A loving mother, wife, friend, and sister.

A numb feeling encased his soul, and suddenly his sobs stopped. No more tears ran down his face, and his whole entire body felt cold. A sudden clarity overtook Harry's mind, and with excruciating slowness words tumbled out of his mouth.

"I don't need to feel anymore…" With that said, Harry did exactly that. His father, while unfortunately still in the stages of grieving, took his anger out on Harry. He would curse, punch, and beat the kid until he was on his last breath. Only when he saw Harry teetering on the line between life and death would he stop, and take a look at the life that he now lived.

Torn between self loathing and disgust, he would become even more enraged. Not even noticing that his son was slowly crumbling underneath his ministrations. Once upon a time, Harry would protest. He would pleadingly shout, "Stop! Daddy it hurts! Why…?" His pleads and enquiries, however were never enough to penetrate the fog of anger that would envelope James Potter's mind. However, sometimes in the middle of a session, James would falter. Harry's vibrant green eyes would blur, and Lily's eyes would stare back at him.

With a horrified yelp, James would step away from his son, and finally see that what he was doing was wrong. Hurriedly, he would run away and lock himself in his room. Never to be seen again for weeks until finally the cycle would begin once more.

Now, Harry lies on the floor of his bathroom. His green eyes are pained as he stares blearily up at the ceiling. Memories continue to play before his minds eye, and with each one, his clutch on the blade in his hand becomes tighter. He ignores the dull ache in his hand, as he brings the blade up to his arm. With an almost excruciating slowness, he pulls it down and relishes in the minimum relief the pain gives him.

He knows it's his fault, and the very notion of it being anyone else's pains him. If he could've protected his mother that night, she would- no…. If he hadn't been alive nothing like this would have ever happened… With a resigned sigh, Harry pushes the blade in deeper. Hoping yet knowing that this would never be enough to atone for his sins… Knowing that his father would never forgive him for what he did to their family.

James Potter was not always like this. Once upon a time, he was a caring father and husband who loved his family dearly. When he would come home, he would be greeted by his lovely wife and son; A kiss to the cheek by Lily, and a huge hug from his beloved son. The one thought that would run through his mind during those precious moments would be, 'Life is good.', and indeed it was.

Inwardly, he knew it wasn't though. He did the one thing he vowed never to do to his son, and now he couldn't even look into those once vibrant green eyes without feeling an overwhelming surge of guilt. With a resigned sigh, James opened the door to his two story house, and walked upstairs towards his bedroom, but a sigh much like his previous one caught his attention.

Knowing it was Harry, and feeling slightly guilty, James cautiously walked towards his son's door. Opening it with an agonizing slowness, he peeked inside only to find it empty. Noticing that the bathroom door was open, he slowly walked towards it and looked in. Only to hurriedly walk in and crouch next to his bleeding son.

Harry looked like a being from out of this world. His skin was extremely pale now, and his body slightly shook because of the coldness. His green eyes were severely dulled, and on his arms were multiple open gashes that formed x's and vague words on his skin. The blade in his hand was soaked in blood along with his clothes and the bathroom floor. A week chuckle drew James's attention away from the gruesome sight, and James struggled to listen to the almost inaudible words his son uttered next.

"…Daddy…I'm sorry…" The words were spoken with so much grief and genuine regret that it pulled at James's heartstrings. Stumbling, James pushed himself off the floor, and rummaged through his pocket for his cell phone. Upon getting it, he hurriedly dialed 911, and got Harry to the hospital. All the while, ignoring the sting in his eyes as his tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

Although it may be too late, he would do anything in his power to make things right with his son.

Upon opening his eyes, the first thing Harry was able to make out was the heavy smell of disinfectant and the pesky light that burned him through his closed eye lids. Slowly trying to open them, he groaned at the light that stubbornly invaded his senses, and at the small ache that somehow managed to run throughout his whole entire body.

A nervous chuckle captured his attention, and looking to the side he noticed two things. One, his glasses were on, and two…His father was staring right at him.

Panic immediately set in, and he struggled to get his limbs to move. That, however, was made impossible by the cords that were hooked to both him and numerous machines. His father immediately reached out to touch him, but stopped mid way. Harry was about to ask what the hell happened, but before he could, James bowed his head in shame, and gathered his confidence before looking Harry straight in the eyes with determination.

"Harry I've been a bad- no shitty father ever since your mom died-" He began before Harry abruptly cut him off.

"It wasn't your fault. It was me, after all, who couldn't do anything to prevent her from getting kil-" Here, Harry suddenly cut off while a red mark suddenly blossomed on his right cheek. Looking at his father in shock, Harry was speechless as he noticed his fathers eyes light up with a rage that he had never seen before. Slightly scared, but very curious, Harry said nothing as his father exploded.

"HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT YOU WERE TO BLAME?! I fucking beat the shit out of you! I had no right to do that, and I am a bastard for doing it! You have done nothing. You're a good kid, and it should have been me who protected her. I should have never left…" By the end of his mini rant, James's voice was nothing more but a mere whisper. Regret heavily coated his words, and Harry's eyes softened at the sight. Maybe his father didn't hate him as much as he originally thought?

With a mirthless chuckle, Harry brought up his hand, and laced both his father's and his own fingers together.

Yes, the road to happiness and redemption would be hard, but they would always have each other…

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