In a Place of Sickness
James slams his fist against the stone wall next to him. “So was this just another ploy to get our attention?” He yells at his son. In his other hand, he holds a crumpled letter from Harry. James had received a letter from a mediwitch at St. Mungos, explaining that she had just been assigned to Harry’s case and he had asked her to send his letter to his parents. Harry’s letter had been included in the envelope as well. Reading it had ignited a fire that James had thought had long been extinguished.
Rushing to St. Mungos and demanding to see his son saw him standing in a private room. Harry looking perfectly healthy propped up on a bed by several pillows. The bed was pushed to the far side of the room, so Harry was able to look out the window.
When James had thrown open the door, slamming it into the wall, Harry hadn’t even flinched. He had only turned his head away from the window with an impassive look. The impassive expression had melted to surprise before his brows furrowed in confusion. Now his eyes were big and glossy like he was about to cry. His mouth opened and closed like he wanted to say something but was too terrified of the display in front of him to find the words.
“Four years, Harry. We cut you off four years ago.” James shook the letter still fisted in his hand. “And this! This doesn’t change what you said.” Harry starts shaking his head slowly but James blows on, ignoring his son. “What? Did you think everything would be fixed if you just pretended to be sick? Like we wouldn’t know you had just checked yourself in after another bender?”
Harry brokenly whispered no over and over. Head still shaking back and forth, but slowing down. James falters when an alert charm starts ringing in the room and a mediwizard rushes in suddenly. He ignores James and rushes to Harry’s bedside, placing a hand on his shoulder and bending down to be at eye level with him.
“Harry. Harry, can you hear me?” The mediwizard asks evenly but urgently. “Harry I need you to calm down. We can’t give you a calming draught, so I need you to take a deep breath for me.” The mediwizard continues talking to Harry, trying to get his attention. James feels cold wash over him as he realizes something is seriously wrong with his son. “Harry!” The mediwizard tries again.
Not standing from his position, the man looks over his shoulder at James. His eyes are hard and his voice is cold. “I know you are unaware of your son's condition, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened before his wards alerted me to his distress.” James swallows, trying to dislodge the choked feeling in his throat.
“Uhhmm well..” And James recounts everything that he had said to Harry since arriving in the room. The boy still whispering no to himself. The mediwizard listened intently before nodding, the cold expression never leaving his face. Harry began slurring, his head no longer shaking, just twitching to the left.
The mediwizard swears under his breath, quickly turning Harry onto his side just as his body locks up. His eyes roll into the back of his head, and his mouth opens and closes silently for a few seconds. James watches horrified as Harry begins choking on air, gasping loudly.
After several long moments, Harry’s body loosens and falls limp. His eyes are glassy and his mouth hangs open. The mediwizard quickly begins casting diagnostic charms. James watches his son’s face. He hopes Harry is just exhausted from whatever he just went through, but the longer he watches, the more he notices little things that make a pit sink further into his stomach.
Harry’s not twitching at all.
His nostrils don’t flare and his lips don’t quiver. James comes to the terrible realization that Harry is no longer breathing.
Swearing again, no longer under his breath, the mediwizard rolls Harry onto his back. Foregoing spells, he begins muggle CPR. James feels that pit fall through his feet as he watches the mediwizard try to get Harry’s heart to beat again.
After 5 minutes, the mediwizard stops chest compressions and steps back. Harry’s body just lays there, limp in his bed sheets. His head is tilted slightly towards James, with vacant, unseeing eyes staring across the room. One of his arms had fallen off the bed in the jostle, and James notices with a heavy heart, that there are scars up and down the forearm. Some are so light they are barely visible, and others are still angry and red.
He tries to choke down a sob as he realizes, that those aren’t the marks of a drug addict. His son was covered in self-inflicted wounds. He had turned on his only son, probably when he had needed his support the most, because he wouldn’t listen to what Harry had to say.
The mediwizard summones a large vial from the shelf along the back wall. He gently taps his wand to Harry’s forehead, pulling out a thin silvery memory. After placing it into the vial, the mediwizard continues to pull memories until the vial is almost full and his wand stops coming away with strands. He places the cork into the top and sets the vial down on the bedside table.
The mediwizard turns towards James and walks toward the end of the bed, where he picks up the clipboard that is hanging there. He writes a few things down on Harry’s chart before turning the board around and holding it out to James.
“Since you are already here, I just need you to sign that you acknowledge that your son has passed.” James chokes down a sob as he grabs the clipboard. "I am sorry for your loss." The pen rattles as James looks down at the papers. He realizes it's his hands that are shaking. As he reads over the forms, tears splash down onto the paper.
“He’s…” He can barely get the words out as he reads the date Harry was admitted. “He’s been here for over a year?” James can barely get the words out through how tight his throat has gotten. “Why were we never notified?” James asked incredulously.
The mediwizard looks puzzled for a second before his face goes blank again. “Harry has been writing letters weekly to both you and his mother since he was admitted.” James sobs again. “Lily asked that we stop sending her his letters after she came and visited during his second week. There was never any response from Godric’s.” The mediwizard continues.
“We moved out of Godric’s Hollow almost 3 years ago,” James says incredulously. “Why on earth would you be sending owls there?” As James is speaking the door to Harry’s room opens and a mediwitch walks in.
“I can actually answer that for you, Mr. Potter.” She says gently, looking at the wall over James’ shoulder. He looks at her with tears running down his face. “If you’d like, that is?” She continues. James nods quickly.
“When I took over as Harry’s main mediwitch, his previous one handed me a stack of returned letters. Told me he always asked for them to be sent to the same house in Godric’s Hollow. She said he never asked if there was a response anymore, so she figured he knew he was being ignored.” She shakes her head. “On my second day with him, he handed me a letter. He explained that things had gone wrong between his parents and he felt like it was his fault.”
James can only stare at her as he tries to process that Harry had been blaming himself. The mediwitch continues.
“Said he wanted to try and make things right while he still had some time, but that he had lost hope that it would ever happen. I asked where he wanted me to send it.” She took a deep breath. “He said ‘It doesn’t matter. Dad and Pa keep sending them back. I guess you can just send it to them again.’ So I wrote my own letter and put Harry’s inside so that it wouldn’t be immediately turned away. And that’s where I told the owl to go. To James Potter.”
James shakily walked to his sons bed. Sitting down on the edge he places the clipboard near Harry’s feet. He gently grabs the hand that lays limply over the edge, pulling it into his own lap. He leans forward pressing a kiss to the cooling fingers.
“I’m so sorry prongslet. I failed you so many times.” James clutches the hand wishing on mother magic that he could take it all back. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.