"Jaaaaames..."

It was calling him again.

"Jaaaaames... Darling, where are you?"

He knew. He knew he should ignore it. Almost every part of him was screaming that he should pretend he didn't hear it. Or should silence it. Or end it. The monster that wore his love's face. But never indulge it.

"Don't you love me anymore?"

But then there was that other part of him. The part that lost the love of his life to a monster in a moment of inattention. That hated himself for failing her. That just wanted to hear her voice again, see the glitter of her eyes again.

It was this weakness that the creature loved to prey upon.

Seemingly without intention, James found himself descending the stairs of his home to the basement towards a cage of solid steel bars he had transfigured himself, as sturdy as he could make it. And inside was a beautiful woman. A curtain of red hair hanging over her shoulders, glittering green eyes that caused James' heart to twist and bile to rise in his throat in equal measure. She was bound securely. A frame – also transfigured – held each of her limbs in place, denying her any leverage to try to break free.

She was also pregnant. 24 weeks in.

"Hello, honey! I missed you!" it spoke with joy. Real joy.

He almost answered. 'Hello.' 'I'm sorry.' 'I missed you too.' He swallowed them all and responded only with a jerking nod.

It pouted at him. "The silent treatment? Really, James. What on Earth did I do to deserve that?"

"You murdered my wife," James answered, trying to stay detached. Failing.

It adopted a confused expression. "Oh, honey, you're confused! I am your wife. Remember? After all, this," she nodded indicating her pregnant belly, "didn't happen on its own."

"You're not her. You're just the thing wearing her face."

"That hurts! That was hurtful, James!" it said, voice quivering. "You can't treat your wife this way! Locking her up in your basement all alone!"

"I can't let you out, Li-" NOT HER! "... I can't let you out."

Flickers of a victorious expression passed across its face at his slip. "Oh, but it's so boring down here! Nothing to do..." Its face shifted. Brow lowering, becoming more pronounced, forcing the now putrescent yellow eyes into a half-squint. "Nothing to eat..." As it spoke it revealed its maw of jagged fangs, revealing its true nature like nothing else could.

James' jaw tightened. He turned away from... it, opening a nearby fridge and removing a beaker of thick, dark-red liquid.

His blood. It refused to eat animal blood and James refused to take anyone else's for... whatever this was. He had a stockpile of blood-replenishing potions so it was no great sacrifice. At least, not in the act.

Levitating it through the bars and pouring it down her throat, the noises she made as she devoured his lifeblood...

The baby was healthy. Despite everything that had happened over the past two weeks, his little boy was still alive in there. Truly alive. Despite his mother dying, despite the monster invading her body, despite being only nourished by blood, he was alive.

'Three more months,' James told himself. He could handle that much.

-(-)-

James was awakened by its voice again. It was a common occurrence. It didn't need sleep so every few hours it would start calling for him, to torment him further. However, this time was different.

This time, it did not lovingly call his name to tempt him. Instead, it awoke him with wails of agony.

His rational mind didn't have chance to protest. The sound of his wife suffering overrode any other thoughts than 'help her'. He practically flew down the stairs, ripped the bars aside with a wave of his wand and put his hand to her cheek, whispering soothingly. "It's alright Lily. Everything will be alright. What's wrong?"

"It's... It wants out! It's coming!" she cried before screaming in pain once again, her true face showing on instinct before it retreated again as she gasped for air she didn't need..

A flurry of a dozen different emotions passed through him on understanding what she meant. The baby was coming. He was going to be a father. He was going to find out if the baby was a monster too. He would have no more excuses to keep the monster around. He had no idea – after months of research it was clear no one had any idea – how to deliver a baby from such a creature.

The reaction brought on by every one of those conclusions was "Oh no."

"James please, I'm sorry I kept teasing you I'm sorry I hurt you just please get it out of me PLEASE!" it... she begged him as a new wave of pain took her.

He had researched how labour was supposed to go. He couldn't have anyone else take part in this after all. But something was wrong, the contractions too short. Five to ten seconds and happening every thirty seconds or so. That was not what was supposed to happen. He didn't know what to do. More frequent contractions was supposed to mean the baby was almost out but she had only...

"How long ago did it start?" he asked.

"I don't know, you didn't put a clock in here! Not long!"

"Okay! … Okay..." he mumbled, before coming to a conclusion. With careful movements of his wand, he transfigured her bindings to form a table and (still secure) stirrups. "Now, Lily... I'm going to need you to start pushing."

With a low groan she started to do just that. And continued. And continued. "Nothing's happening!"

"Just keep going, you're doing fine!" The books told him to say that.

"No, it's wrong! There's nothing there!" she wailed.

"What?" James whispered.

"James... It hurts so much... But nothing's happening! I can't get him out! It's not working!"

'Of course not,' the cold, analytical part of James' mind told him. 'Did you really think a dead thing like this could give birth?'

For a moment, James allowed himself to wallow in true despair. As the sounds of his wife's voice washed over him as she screamed in agony, he finally understood on a primal level what had happened. That his wife was gone. The thing before him was a corpse.

A corpse with his son trapped inside.

For one last time, James allowed himself to believe the lie. "Lily," he told her putting his hand to her cheek, "everything is going to be fine."

The lie didn't even offer the bitter, hollow comfort it used to. Just an empty feeling that gnawed at his soul.

"James..." it moaned weakly.

"I love you Lily," he said, his eyes closed. Opening them, he raised his wand. "Stupefy."

The body of his wife lay limp on the table but it would not remain so for long. Did he do it to be merciful? So it wouldn't see its end? Or was it just so he wouldn't have to look into his wife's stolen eyes as the last traces of her faded from his life forever. In the end, it wouldn't matter.

As he drove a wooden stake down into her chest, she let out a gasp of air before crumbling to dust on the table.

And left there, at the end of the table, struggling for air and covered in the remains of his mother, lay his little baby boy. A miracle borne of tragedy. Such a frail little thing. Pale, small barely able to get air into his lungs for crying.

But alive.

"Hello, Harry," James said with a tearful smile as he picked up his newborn son. "That's what your Mum wanted your name to be. Our baby boy, Harry James Potter."

And so, on the fateful day of July 8, under the most tragic of circumstances, little Harry James Potter was brought into the world.

-(-)-

"Good morning, son," James said with a smile as he watched his son come down the stairs and sit at the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Dad," Harry responded, mechanically eating his breakfast of cereal. Stoic. Emotionless.

Dead.

James ruthlessly crushed that last thought before it could take root as he had many times over the past eight years. His boy was a bit unusual, a bit quiet, but he was still James' little boy, Lily's final gift to him. He would love him no matter what.

James hadn't kept in contact with events in magical Britain. The last time he had really spoken to the Marauders, the Order, anyone he knew from that life was when Sirius showed up to tell him the good news that the war was over. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named died mysteriously while attacking Longbottom Manor. Alice, Frank and Augusta were all killed with little Neville Longbottom as the only survivor.

Sirius' joy was infectious and James had found himself smiling unreservedly for the first time in a long time that day.

Then Sirius had said James and Harry could stop hiding. That they could come back to the magical world where they belonged.

James couldn't tell his oldest friend the truth. The real reasons James had hidden his small family away in the muggle world. Even if everything was fine – which it was! – even then, the magical world wouldn't accept them. He couldn't subject his little boy to the treatment he'd get from magicals.

Sirius had asked if Harry would be going to Hogwarts at least.

James knew the answer. Harry couldn't go if he wanted to. One needed magic to go to a magical school, after all. So he said no. But wouldn't admit why.

It sparked the argument to end all arguments between the two old friends. Some things were said that couldn't be unsaid. And in the end, Sirius, Padfoot, had left the Potter home in anger and despair.

But it was fine. It was for the best. Harry and James Potter would be fine as long as they had each other.

"When you're finished, I'll walk you to school, okay?"

"Okay, Dad."

Everything was fine.

-(-)-

Everything was not fine.

The moment he had gotten off the phone with the school James had ran for his wand, taken it up for the first time in years and apparated straight to the school. Throwing open the doors and searching desperately for the school nurse's office. Ignoring the call of one of the teachers he spotted a sign for the room he was looking for and rushed in. "Harry!" he called out as he saw his son sitting up in one of the beds and...

… Smiling at him?

"Mr. Potter?" James' mouth tried to form words to respond to the nurse but his lips just opened and closed a few times, utterly lost. This is the first time I've seen him smile.

"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" the nurse tried again, snapping the parent out of his daze to focus on her.

"Ah, yes! Sorry, what- what happened?"

The nurse's eyes rolled. "Boys being boys, I'm afraid. A few of them took issue with your son's attitude and ganged up on him. Gave as good as he got as far as I can tell. Laid a few of them right out and..." she paused and continued in a stage-whisper, "He bit the last one. You might want to discourage that part in future."

James blood turned to ice in his veins. No. It couldn't be. Looking back to his son he saw a new detail he hadn't taken note of before. The sharpness of that smile.

"Right," he said tightly. "Right. May I have a moment with my son, please."

"Of course. I'll just let the faculty know Harry is excused for the day and you can take him home, okay?" she said with the practiced cheer of someone who works with children, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her.

As soon as the nurse started walking down the hall a barely noticeable shimmer in the corner faded and revealed the presence of a Ministry Obliviator.

James startled. "Merlin's bloody bollocks, you scared me!"

"Sorry about that, sir," the obliviator said, not especially meaning it. "Just following up to make sure the story lines up for everyone."

"Story?" James asked, confused.

The obliviator was equally confused. "For the accidental magic?"

"Acci- What? What are you-"

"Oh, bollocks, I didn't cock this up, did I? File said you was James Potter. Former auror, Head of House Potter?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Oh, thank Merlin. I thought I just broke the statute myself with you being another muggle James Potter. Obliviator breaking the statute, that'd be ironic, eh?" the man laughed with relief that he didn't do something that might actually get him sacked. "So yeah. Bit of accidental magic, nothing to worry about. As the lady said, your boy got into a scuffle with some other boys, lashed out in panic – figure that's where the whole "biting" bit happened – and then knocked 'em all out with a wave of force or something. Cratered a bit of the playground a little but I fixed that up too. All tidied up though. Just stick with the story the lady gave you, you know the drill."

"Yeah, yes of course. Thank you," James said distantly.

"No prob. I'll be off then, bye bye, little 'un!" the obliviator said, waving at Harry.

"Bye bye, Invisible Man!" Harry waved back cheerfully.

-(-)-

It had lasted for two weeks. For two whole weeks Harry Potter was just like any other little boy. Even finally made some friends at school, watched telly, complained about doing homework.

It was amazing. For the first time in his life, James felt a real connection with his son.

And then... It had ended.

It wasn't sudden. One day Harry was a little less energetic. Then he was quiet. And then... Then he was back to his old self.

A shell of a person.

So... James did what seemed at the time to be the right thing to do. Would it turn out to be a mistake? He decided that anything he did for his little boy could never be a mistake.

And so, James Potter once again brought out the blood-replenishing potions, covertly opened a vein into a mug, and asked his son to try it.

"This is tasty!" Harry said happily, smiling again, teeth stained with red.

…

Everything is fine.

-(-)-

A/N: So... Usually I try to do comedy and end up with something super dark. So. What happens if dark is my intention from the offing? Hmmmm, we'll have to see, won't we.

This might end up a villain protagonist. It might not. Who knows. I write based on who the character is and this could go... Many different places depending.

So! As you may have figured out. Buffyverse crossover. Lily was turned while pregnant into a vampire of that particular type and a bit of magic bollocks kept baby Harry alive to at least be born, if a little premature. But he didn't make it out entirely human. We'll see how that goes.

If you would like to support me directly, there is now a way you can do so through popular donation platform that I'm not allowed to say the name of on this site. You know the one. Please consider helping out. As long as I'm receiving even a single dollar from someone who thinks my writing is worthwhile, I guarantee at least a chapter of something a week.

Thanks for reading.