The Embrace of a Father

Unbearable Pain

After another hour, Dumbledore came down and ordered James to hide.

"Harry can't see you. Not in this state," James nodded reluctantly because he was too tired to do anything else. Dumledore turned to Ron and Hermione,"You two may accompany us to the hospital wing, but I must ask you not to ask Harry any questions. He has been through a terrible ordeal tonight and he has already relived it once for me."

The two nodded glumly. After lots of begging, James was allowed to follow them at a further distance with a disillusionment charm on him.

As Harry walked down the stairs, he showed no sign of tears, but his body language showed his sadness. His eyes looked weary, yet they were wide and alert. Even if James were right in front of him, he doubted that he would see him. Harry's eyes were open, but he didnt seem to be seeing anything at all. If not for Ron and Hermione, he would have run into quite a few walls.

His friends tried to take his mind off the subject by talking about other things.

"Mum says you can stay the whole summer with us if you want," Ron said. Harry only nodded.

"I found a book in the library earlier that I thought you might enjoy. It is the Quidditch, a History," Hermione told him. He only blinked. Eventually James had to turn away as his heart was crumbling further the longer he looked at his son so defeated and broken.

"You won mate!" Ron cheered half-heartedly. Wrong thing to say. They had reached the hospital door. Harry turned to face Ron and Hermione and looked them in the eye.

"Cedric should have won too," then he turned and followed Dumbledore inside where Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him. She made him drink a potion so he could sleep. As soon as his eyes closed, James entered the room.

With several wide-eyed people staring at him, he went and knelt by his son's head. He took of the boy's glasses and set them gently on the table beside the bed.

He took a cloth from Madam Pomfrey and gently wiped the blood off Harry's face while she cleaned the wound on his arm. The Weasleys stood by watching, torn between worry for Harry, and suspicion of James, but he didn't care. Strangely enough, neither did Dumbledore.

"They cut my son?" James whispered partly delerious. Dumbledore's face turned grave and he pulled James aside.

"You have to understand that you can't talk to him about this unless he comes to you. He watched a friend die, was tied up, witnissed the return of Voldemort, was mocked and tortured, then forced to duel the Dark Lord as they call him. This wasn't your ordinary kidnap," Dumbledore said seriously. James began to weep.

"At least he is safe now," James said.

"But he isn't. At this very moment perhaps, they are already planning the death of Harry Potter. It will always be so until one or the other is no longer in existance," James looked down in despair.

"Why my only son?" James sobbed.

"Do you wish the fate on another child?" Dumbledore asked. James looked at him as if he were mad. Of course he didn't, but his son didn't deserve it either.

His only son. Only 14 years old. He would save him. No matter what.

"Ah but you can't," Dumbledore said as if reading his mind,"This is his battle. All you can do is be there for him in times like this." James bowed his head in complete and utter dispair. That was his main problem. How could he be there for him if Harry wasn't even allowed to know of his existance?