Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.

Notes: My thing is, based on what little information we get from the Epilogue, James is the forgotten Potter child. If we take it completely by canon, then James ended up in Gryffindor, probably because he knew it was expected of him. Ignoring CC but still keeping Albus as Slytherin, despite his lack of traits for the house, then Harry was probably elated by Albus' sorting, thereby generating even more resentment on James' part. I can see James graduating and then completely disappearing off the map, never contacting his family again since they don't even care if he's arrived on the platform safely.

So, this is me diving into more canon territory. But a realistic one. Or as realistic as a world of magic can get.

Colors Mean Everything

It's when he's Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley that it happens. Harry has to grab the shelf behind him to stop himself from falling. His heart skips a beat when he looks at the boy who just ran into him. The boy is too old to be his grandson Henry, and besides, he has glasses and no freckles, and his green eyes are more emerald rather than the color of the Killing Curse… No, it is not Henry, but the similarity between them is definitely striking.

"Chase! I told you not to run off!"

The woman's voice rounds the corner before her. She stops when she sees the boy sprawled on the floor, and the pile of books Harry dropped.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she rushes to say, immediately taking out her wand and summoning the books. Harry takes them from her, impressed that she did the spell soundlessly. "My son always has more grace on a broom than on the ground."

Harry laughs. "My son Albus is like that, too."

Something about her polite smile becomes frozen. Startled, Harry studies the rest of her. She is dressed in expensive robes, and her eyes are the same green as her son's own. She does not look familiar to Harry, and unless she is the opposite of one of his dreaded fans, he cannot think of what he did wrong to gain her disdain.

He shuffles his books under an arm. He's not sure why he's lingering, but the boy has gotten to his feet and is looking at Harry curiously. A pointed glance from his mother has him ducking his head and mumbling an apology.

"It's fine," Harry assures him. "Are you alright?"

The boy bobs his head. "Yes, sir."

He's still nervous, and Harry smiles at him.

"I'm Harry. What's your name?"

"Chase," the boy replies after glancing at his mother. "And I don't want your autograph," he adds.

Harry blinks. "Okay…"

It is not often he has to deal with rudeness. Usually people are overtly nice to him, almost bending over backwards to please him. Chase's attitude reminds him of another boy.

The woman sighs. "Come along, darling, we'll finish our shopping at another time," she says.

As they walk away, Harry watches them, something tugging at his heart. He has just turned away when he hears a hissing sound. He spins around just in time to see the woman frozen, staring at her son in fear before she slowly lifts her gaze to Harry.

Harry is not aware of striding forward, but somehow he is towering over the small boy and demanding, "What's your full name?"

"Get away from him!" the woman cries, tugging her son behind her protectively.

Harry blinks again, feeling sick as he realizes he was just intimidating a child, but then Chase steps forward, no longer cowering but standing with his back straight and his chin raised defiantly.

"Potter," Chase spits out. "My name is Charles Potter."

Struck numb, Harry can only stare at him. Now that Harry's aware of the relation, the resemblance is even more shocking. Chase has Harry's nose and Ginny's mouth, just like James. Of Harry's three children, James had been the one to look the most like him. He'd also been the only one to inherit the Parseltongue ability that Chase has just demonstrated.

"Chase," the woman snaps.

He stands with his hands clenched for a long moment before returning to her. She grasps his shoulder and gives Harry a dark look. Though she says nothing, the accusation is clear in her eyes. Harry watches in a daze as they leave the shop.

By the time he gets home, it's dark and he has only a few of the gifts he planned on buying. The light is on in Ginny's office, but he ignores it as he stumbles toward their room and collapses on the bed. His relationship with Ginny is cordial, but neither of them can look at each other without seeing the guilt and blame in their eyes.

Propping himself up on an elbow, Harry lights the sconces and begins to rummage in the drawer of his night dresser. At the bottom, piled underneath various knickknacks, he finds the old photograph. It had been hidden away when they realized James wasn't coming back.

Harry traces his son's face. James stands a little apart from Albus and Lily. There is a dangerous tilt to his smile and a savage light in his blue eyes. Harry has stopped wondering how none of them saw it coming. James had always been good at conveying utmost confidence. For the longest time, Harry thought his son didn't know what it meant to hold insecurities.

Harry remembers, with vivid clarity, the words James screamed at them that day. "The Hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw, did you know that? But I talked it into Gryffindor, because I thought that's what you'd want!"

"I'm so sorry," Harry whispers to the photograph.

Colors had destroyed his son. James, with the blue eyes, despised both green and red – or rather, he envied them.