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unconventional-lawnchair · 1 month ago

Note

hi loveee!! hope you’re doing well!

i was wondering if i could request no Voldemort AU, Wolfstar!daughter reader where her parents and harry’s parents have been making jokes about her and harry dating, and since then they have seen her slowly fade and eating less and kind of just drifting away for a few months, and when her parents, lily, and james talk to her about it she just tells them she likes girls and was really scared of telling them because she felt she was disappointing them.

if you don’t feel comfortable that’s totally fine!! love your work

An: Thank you and I'm sorry this took so long! I got a little carried away I am so sorry.

Expectations

Wolfstar!Daughter who is struggling to express her sexuality...

Summary: (See above) Reminiscing on some romantic encounters, you have come to the conclusion Harry Potter is not someone you'd ever date. HURT/COMFORT

WC: 7.1k

CW: The reader is so gay, she kissed Luna and Ginny, almost kissed Hermione, some intense negative self talk, mentions of not eating and guilty James and Sirius

The warm smell of toast and coffee wafted through the kitchen as you thundered down the stairs, your shoes slapping against the wood with unbothered energy. The kitchen was alive with the sound of the radio crackling softly in the corner, a cheerful tune mingling with the chatter of voices and the occasional clink of dishes.

Lily stood at the stove, flicking her wand to keep the eggs from burning. James leaned casually against the counter, chewing on a piece of toast and grinning at Sirius, who was regaling everyone with a clearly exaggerated story about his work as an Auror the day before. Remus sat at the table, reading the Daily Prophet with a steaming cup of tea in his hand.

You slipped past Lily with precision, she hardly glanced over her shoulder, smirking. “Late again, I see. I suppose your grand entrance was worth skipping breakfast?”

You gave her a cheeky grin, swiping the slice of toast right out of James’s hand as you breezed by. “Skipping? Please, I’m right on time,” You quipped, taking a dramatic bite and ignoring James’s exaggerated gasp of betrayal.

“Oi!” James protested, clutching his now-empty hand. “I was munching on that!”

“You snooze, you lose, Potter,” You shot back, already rounding the table to Sirius. He was mid-sentence in his story when your arms looped around his shoulders, pulling him into a quick hug. He stopped talking just long enough to lean into the affection, grinning like the proud dad he was.

“Morning, Cherry Bomb,” Sirius greeted, ruffling your hair as you pulled away.

“Morning, Dad,” You hummed breezily before turning to Remus. You leaned down to give him an exaggeratedly loud kiss on the cheek, making him chuckle and shake his head.

“You’re in a good mood,” Remus observed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he folded his newspaper.

“Am I not always?” You asked, snagging another slice of toast from the plate on the table and tossing him a wink.

Laughter and banter filled the room again as the chaos resumed. The radio switched to another upbeat tune, and Lily turned back to her cooking, muttering something about “pot-stirrers” under her breath. Sirius leaned back in his chair, smirking at James’s ongoing complaints about his stolen toast, and Remus sipped his tea, watching the scene unfold with fond amusement.

“Pops, can you-” You started, pointing toward the creamer sitting just out of reach on the table. Before you could even finish your sentence, Remus flicked his wand, and the creamer floated gracefully into your hand.

“Thanks, Pops,” You sang with a grin, pouring a splash into your coffee. “You’re on top of it today.”

“I try,” Remus replied with a faint smirk, returning to his tea and paper without missing a beat.

Before you could reach for the sugar, a familiar hand slid it toward you from the corner of the table. Harry, his hair even messier than usual, had just shuffled into the kitchen, still looking half-asleep but apparently sharp enough to anticipate your needs.

“Here,” he mumbled, stifling a yawn as he pushed the sugar closer.

You gasped dramatically, holding your hand to your chest as though he’d just saved your life. “And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why you’re my favorite Potter.”

Harry blinked at you, clearly too tired to respond with his usual quick wit. “Not a high bar,” He muttered, sliding into the chair next to Remus and slumping forward.

James, who had been about to take a sip of coffee, froze mid-motion, eyes widening in mock offense. “Excuse me?! I am the original Potter- one might say the prototype- and therefore the best!”

“Don’t forget the loudest,” Sirius added with a grin, earning a glare from James.

Lily turned from the stove, wagging her spatula in your direction. “Careful, love, you’re going to give Harry a big head.”

You snorted, swirling your coffee as you leaned back against the counter. “Please, his head’s big enough already. I’m just giving credit where it’s due.”

Harry, now more awake, gave you a sideways glance, a hint of a smirk creeping onto his face. “You know, you’re really setting the bar low if all it takes is a sugar bowl to win you over.”

“Hey,” you shot back, pointing your spoon at him, “don’t underestimate the power of good timing and selflessness, Potter. You could learn a thing or two from your favorite person.”

Harry rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “If I’m your favorite, I dread to think how you treat your least favorite.”

“Easy,” You cheeked with a wicked grin, “I steal their toast.”

James groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Unbelievable! You two are ganging up on me. Is this what parenthood leads to? Betrayal at every turn?”

“Seems like it,” Sirius chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a wolfish grin. “Honestly, Prongs, they’d make a great couple- at least then someone would appreciate your genes.”

You nearly choked on your coffee, sputtering as you quickly set the mug down. “Oh, come on,” You shot at Sirius, your tone sharp but playful, though a prickle of discomfort crept into your chest.

James was grinning now, clearly enjoying himself. “You know, he’s not wrong. Potter and Black- it’s destiny, really. Perfect balance of brains and chaos.”

“Merlin’s beard, not this again,” You groaned, running a hand down your face. “The only thing Harry and I are destined for is quidditch captain, and I’m winning.”

“But think of the headlines!” Sirius pressed on, clearly relishing the way you were squirming. “‘Auror Legacy Marries rebel Black 2.0.’ It’s got a ring to it.”

“Don’t,” Lily cut in sharply, waving her spatula like a weapon. “You’re embarrassing them.”

Remus huffed quietly, setting his tea down with a frown. “Honestly, can’t the two of you give it a rest? They’re kids, not a tabloid story.”

You seized the moment, folding your arms and aiming your most cutting glare at your dads. “Thank you, Pops. Finally, someone with some sense.”

Sirius, unbothered, leaned over to nudge James. “You notice how defensive she’s getting? Means we’re onto something.”

“That’s because you’re delusional,” You snapped, though your tone had lost its bite. “For the record, Harry and I would never work. He’s a disaster, I’m a disaster, and that’s just too much disaster for one relationship.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at you, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Speak for yourself. I’d carry this disaster just fine.”

“Oh, please,” You fired back, your grin tight but still intact. “You can’t even carry your Firebolt without tripping over your own feet.”

The room erupted in laughter, and you forced a chuckle, though the weight of their teasing lingered. You’d always been good at playing along, but this time, something about it felt different. The jokes stung in a way they hadn’t before, but you weren't ignorant to why.

The laughter in the kitchen echoed around you, but it began to feel muffled, as if someone had pressed a pillow over your ears. You stared at your coffee mug, your grin faltering slightly, though you were careful to hide it. The jokes about you and Harry- something you’d always brushed off with ease- felt heavier lately, the sting burrowing deeper into your chest.

Your grip tightened around the coffee mug as the laughter in the kitchen grew distant, the sound blurring into background noise. Your mind wandered, pulling you back to a quieter moment, one you rarely let yourself dwell on.

The library was quiet save for the soft rustle of pages and the occasional whispered reprimand from Madam Pince. You’d been helping Hermione find a particularly elusive book for her research, one she was determined to get her hands on without incurring the wrath of the ever-watchful librarian.

“You’re sure it’s up there?” Hermione had whispered, standing on her tiptoes as she pointed toward the highest shelf.

“Positive,” you’d replied, smirking as you pulled your wand out and flicked it expertly. The book floated down, landing gently in her hands.

“Show-off,” she murmured, though her lips curved into a faint smile.

You’d grinned back, feeling uncharacteristically shy under her warm gaze. The moment lingered longer than it should have, her eyes searching yours as she clutched the book to her chest. There had been something there- something thrillingly unfamiliar. The space between you had felt electric, the quiet of the library amplifying every breath, every heartbeat.

You’d thought about leaning in, about what it might feel like to close the gap. But the creak of Madam Pince’s footsteps had shattered the moment, and you’d stepped back, laughing it off as Hermione tucked the book under her arm and muttered something about returning to the common room.

“Oi,” Sirius’s voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You blinked, realizing the room had gone quieter. Sirius leaned back in his chair, his expression softening as he looked at you. “You alright, trouble?”

“Yeah,” You smiled quickly, plastering on your signature grin to mask the lingering thoughts. “Just tired, I guess.”

Sirius didn’t press, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he turned back to James, who was recounting a story you’d already heard a dozen times.

“Well,” Sirius said, clapping his hands on the table as he stood. “Time to pack it up, everyone. Let’s head home before the house decides to redecorate itself again.”

Lily shot him a look, though there was a smile playing on her lips. “That house doesn’t need redecorating. It needs a miracle.”

Sirius smirked. “And I’m just the man for the job.”

You chuckled softly, slipping off your stool and stretching as the others began gathering their things.

For now, you focused on the warmth of the kitchen, the familiar sound of Sirius and James bickering, and the way Remus always managed to keep everything running smoothly. It was enough, at least for the moment.

The goodbyes at the Potters’ were as warm and chaotic as the morning had been. Hugs were exchanged, and James couldn’t resist pulling you into an exaggerated bear hug, practically lifting you off your feet.

“Take care of my heir, Cherry Bomb,” James teased, grinning ear to ear as he nodded toward Harry. “You two are a dream team, after all.”

“James,” Lily said warningly, her tone sharp but her smile betraying her amusement.

“You’re delusional,” You shot back with a scoff, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed how much the teasing was starting to wear on you. You glanced at Harry, who offered you a small, sympathetic smile before pulling you into a quick side hug of his own.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Harry mumbled under his breath. “They’re impossible.”

“Right back at you,” You replied with a crooked grin, but your heart wasn’t entirely in it.

As you stepped back, Sirius clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gave you a knowing smirk. “Don’t worry, Prongs, I’ll make sure they don’t elope without your blessing.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” You groaned, throwing your hands up as Remus gave Sirius a pointed look and muttered something about restraint.

“Goodbye, Lily,” You said pointedly, ignoring the boys and turning to give her a warm hug. She gave you a small squeeze, whispering a quick “Be patient with them” in your ear before you stepped away.

Sirius finally ushered you toward the car, jingling the keys in his hand like a prize. “Alright, let’s hit the road before James gets any more brilliant ideas.”

Remus rolled his eyes as he slipped into the passenger seat. “Or before you make any, for that matter.”

You climbed into the backseat, slumping against the window as Sirius started the car with a triumphant flourish. He seemed to take a little too much pleasure in the sputtering growl of the engine, muttering something under his breath about “showing Walburga what she’s talking about.”

The car pulled away from the Potters’ house, and the chatter in the front seat quickly turned into playful bickering between your dads. Sirius insisted he didn’t need a map, while Remus quietly pointed out every turn they were about to miss.

But you barely registered their voices. Instead, you stared out the window, your mind wandering again. The familiar streets blurred together as you replayed the events of the morning, the teasing, the lingering stares, and the way Harry’s half-smile seemed to carry a shared understanding.

But still, you were elsewhere.

You and Ginny had been wandering aimlessly, avoiding curfews and teachers, giggling over whatever nonsense had entertained you that day.

She had shoved you playfully against the wall in a narrow corridor, her fiery red hair catching the dim light as she grinned up at you. You’d retaliated immediately, pushing her back with a mock growl, but she was quicker, spinning and pinning you to the stone wall with a strength that belied her smaller frame.

“You’ve got to stop underestimating me,” She teased, her freckled nose scrunching as she smirked. “One day, I’ll wipe that cocky grin off your face.”

“Big words for a Weasley,” You quipped, grinning. “Want to back them up?”

Ginny paused then, her smile faltering just enough for you to notice. Her hands lingered on your shoulders, her grip light but steady. Her brown eyes softened, and something thick hung in the air between you, heavy and electric.

Her voice dropped, quiet and teasing, but there was a nervous edge beneath her bravado.

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her, the confident grin slipping from your face. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say a word, Ginny leaned in.

Her lips brushed yours, soft and tentative, the kiss lasting only a heartbeat. It was over almost as soon as it began, but the feeling lingered- a spark, warm and thrilling, like the crackle of fire catching on dry wood.

You barely had time to process it before Ginny leaned back, her cheeks flushed as she studied your face. “Well?” She asked, her tone light but her eyes searching. “How was that?”

You swallowed, your voice coming out a little breathless despite your best efforts to play it cool. “Not bad, Weasley. Not bad at all.”

Ginny’s grin returned, bright and cheeky. “Told you I’d shut you up one day.”

Before you could respond, Ron’s voice rang out from the far end of the corridor, calling for Ginny. The two of you jumped apart as if burned, your heart racing as her brother’s footsteps approached.

“Guess I'm caught.” Ginny muttered, casting you a quick glance. Her expression was a mix of amusement and something deeper- something you were familiar with. She turned on her heel, jogging down the corridor to meet Ron as if nothing had happened.

You stood frozen for a moment, your fingertips brushing your lips as you replayed the moment over and over in your mind.

“Oi, trouble,” Sirius’s voice yanked you back to the present, his tone amused but curious. “You’ve been awfully quiet back there. What’s on your mind?”

You blinked, realizing you were still in the car, the hum of the engine grounding you as the memory faded. You plastered on a grin, shaking your head as you leaned back in your seat.

“Just tired, dad,” you replied, your voice light and teasing. “Long morning.”

Sirius glanced at you in the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, but he didn’t press. “Well, don’t fall asleep back there. I’m not carrying you up the stairs again.”

Remus chuckled softly, turning in his seat to look at you with a knowing smile. “He says that, but we both know he would.”

You laughed, grateful for the distraction they didn't know they provided.

The car pulled to a stop in front of Grimmauld Place, and you were out of the backseat before Sirius could even turn off the engine. The heavy door creaked open under your hand, and the familiar musty air of the house greeted you. You were halfway up the stairs when Walburga Black’s shrill voice began to echo from her portrait in the hallway.

“Filthy half-bloods! Defilers of the noble house of Black!”

Without missing a beat, you stopped at the landing and turned to face her, smirking as her painted eyes glared daggers at you.

“Oh, shut it, you old hag,” You snapped, your voice dripping with mockery. “If this house had any standards left, your frame would be collecting dust in the attic.”

Walburga’s wails grew louder, incoherent insults tumbling from her mouth. Behind you, Sirius strode in, shaking snow from his jacket as he glanced up at the commotion.

“Oi, pup, what’s all this noise about?” He called, grinning when he spotted you leaning casually against the banister.

“Just giving dear old Gran her daily reminder that she’s irrelevant,” You shrugged, crossing your arms. “Thought she might appreciate the consistency.”

Sirius barked out a laugh, dropping his keys onto the hall table. “Ah, you’re a good kid. Keeping family tradition alive.”

He turned to Walburga’s portrait with an exaggerated bow. “Lovely as always, Mother. But if you don’t pipe down, I’ll have to introduce you to my new Muggle rock records.”

Her screeches hit a new pitch, and Sirius winked at you before turning to Remus, who was rolling his eyes and carrying the bags into the livingroom.

“Don’t encourage her,” Remus muttered, though his lips twitched with a faint smile.

Sirius waved him off, clearly pleased with himself. You snickered and started back up the stairs, shouting one last retort over your shoulder at Walburga.

“Hope you have a terrible night, you miserable cow.”

Her howls followed you all the way to your bedroom door, but you ignored them, shutting yourself inside with a satisfying click.

You flopped onto your bed with a dramatic sigh, your body sinking into the mattress. The familiar creak of the springs beneath you was oddly comforting, even as your mind wandered. Staring at the cracked ceiling, you let the faint noises of the house fade into the background: the distant hum of conversation downstairs, the occasional groan of the pipes, the muffled screeches of Walburga’s indignation.

The memories came rushing back unbidden, weaving themselves into the present.

It was well past midnight. Grimmauld Place was silent except for the occasional creak of the old house settling, its usual cacophony of voices replaced by the muffled hum of distant dreams. The kitchen was dimly lit by a single candle, its flickering flame casting dancing shadows on the aged stone walls. You and Luna had crept downstairs, stifling giggles like two schoolchildren sneaking past a strict headmaster.

Luna sat on the counter, her legs swinging idly, her pale blonde hair catching the soft glow of the candlelight. She watched you rummage through the pantry with the serene curiosity she always seemed to carry, her gaze steady and unbothered even when you nearly dropped a jar of biscuits.

Her soft laughter bubbled up, the sound light and airy, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “Careful,” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper. “We wouldn’t want to wake the ghosts.”

You turned to her, holding up the jar triumphantly. “Ghosts don’t care about biscuits, Luna,” you quipped, though your tone lacked its usual edge. Something about her presence always softened you.

Luna tilted her head, a dreamy smile playing on her lips. “Maybe not. But I imagine they’d enjoy the company.”

Her words hung in the air between you, her gaze steady and unwavering. The intimacy of the moment- the stillness of the house, the shared laughter, the closeness- felt overwhelming. You set the jar down on the counter, your movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid to shatter the fragile quiet.

“What?” You asked softly, your voice low as you stepped closer. The question wasn’t accusatory, just curious, as though you could feel the weight of her thoughts pressing against you.

Luna didn’t respond with words. Instead, she leaned down, her movements slow and deliberate, as if giving you the chance to step away. When you didn’t, her lips brushed yours, soft and tentative. The kiss started slow, hesitant, like the first notes of a melody yet to find its rhythm.

But then it deepened, a quiet fervor building as her hands found your shirt, tangling in the fabric and pulling you closer. Your hands instinctively rested on her hips, grounding yourself in the warmth of her presence. The candle flickered wildly, like its flame was threatening to extinguish under the intensity of the moment, but neither of you paid it any mind.

When you finally pulled back, the world felt different, quieter, as if the house itself was holding its breath. Luna’s gaze held yours, her cheeks flushed but her expression calm, steady.

“Was that alright?” She asked, her voice barely audible in the stillness.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you offered her a small, shy smile. “Yeah,” You murmured, your voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “It was more than alright.”

Luna’s smile widened, and for a moment, the weight of everything else fell away. In that kitchen, under the flicker of candlelight, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a moment that felt like it had been waiting for you all along.

The memory lingered like a soft melody, playing on repeat in your mind. Luna’s serene gaze, her touch, the flicker of candlelight that had seemed to mirror the spark between you- everything about it had felt right. Safe. But as you tried to focus on her eyes, your heart sank.

Like some cruel trick, the silvery blue of her irises shifted, darkening until they glowed an all-too-familiar shade of green. The serene warmth of Luna’s face dissolved, replaced by Harry’s steady, piercing gaze.

A shock ran through your body, sharp and unforgiving, jolting you out of the blissful memory like a bucket of ice water. Your chest tightened, the sudden dissonance between memory and reality leaving you breathless.

“No,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as though you could physically dislodge the image. “No, no, no.”

Your hands clenched into fists, and a frustrated growl tore from your throat. You grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it across the room with all the force you could muster. The satisfying whomp of impact was immediately followed by a loud crash as the pillow toppled your bedside lamp, sending it to the floor in a spray of shattered glass.

The sound made you wince, your frustration replaced by a pang of guilt. You sat up, running a hand through your hair as you surveyed the mess on the floor. The dim light of the room cast eerie reflections off the broken shards, and for a moment, you felt as fragmented as the lamp lying before you.

“Oi! Everything alright up there?” Remus’s voice carried up the stairs, calm yet laced with concern.

You winced, glancing down at the shattered remains of the lamp, your heart sinking. “Uh… yeah!” You called back, scrambling for an excuse. “Just… taking out some aggression on a pillow!”

There was a pause before Remus replied, his voice tinged with amusement. “And did the pillow learn its lesson?”

You hesitated, looking at the broken lamp before sighing. “Uhm… it seems my lamp learned it for him!”

A loud bark of laughter echoed from downstairs, followed closely by Sirius’s booming voice. “Don’t touch it! I’m coming up!”

Your stomach twisted as the familiar sound of Sirius’s boots on the stairs grew louder. You quickly crouched by the broken lamp, trying to sweep the shards into a neat pile with your hands, only to nick your finger on one of the sharper edges.

“Bloody hell,” You hissed, sticking the wounded finger in your mouth as Sirius’s voice reached the landing outside your door.

“Oi, trouble,” He called, knocking once before pushing the door open without waiting for an answer. He took one look at the broken lamp, the glass scattered across the floor, and your sheepish expression before crossing his arms and leaning casually against the doorframe.

“What happened?” He prodded, though his tone was more curious than accusatory.

You stood, brushing your hands on your trousers and avoiding his gaze. “The pillow was out of line, so I threw it,” You admitted, gesturing toward the offending pillow lying innocently on the floor. “Didn’t realize it had a vendetta against my lamp- unfortunately he took her down with him.”

Sirius’s lips twitched as he tried to hold back a grin. “Sounds like the lamp got the short end of the stick,” He mused, stepping further into the room to inspect the damage. “What’s really going on?”

You hesitated, unsure how much you wanted to share. Sirius had a knack for prying the truth out of you, but sometimes you weren’t ready to give it up.

“Just… had a lot on my mind,” Your voice muttered quietly. “Needed to let it out.”

Sirius tilted his head, studying you for a moment. Then, without a word, he pulled his wand from his back pocket and pointed it at the shattered lamp. “Reparo!”

The broken shards flew back together with a soft clink, reforming into the lamp as if nothing had happened. Sirius smirked, giving the now-intact lamp a light tap with his wand for good measure.

You stared at it, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Of course,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Sirius grinned, tucking his wand away. “Because you’re dramatic, Cherry Bomb. Always have to make a scene.” He leaned back against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a knowing look. “What’s the fun in fixing things when you can wallow in the chaos a little longer, eh?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Alright, alright. You’ve had your moment. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late, just lets me know you still need me.” Sirius replied, flashing a cocky grin. Then his expression softened, his gaze flickering to you with something closer to concern. “But seriously, kid, you good?”

You hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on you. Sirius might joke around, but his ability to see through you had always been unnerving.

“I’m fine,” you finally said, though it sounded unconvincing even to your own ears. You tried to smile, hoping it would sell the lie. “Just a long day, you know?”

Sirius didn’t look convinced, but he let it go- for now. “Alright, if you say so. But if you ever need to talk… well, you know where I am.”

You nodded, feeling a flicker of gratitude for his understanding. “Thanks, Dad.”

Sirius smirked at the title, ruffling your hair as he passed by you toward the door. “Get some rest, pup. And maybe lay off the pillow abuse next time, yeah?”

“Only if it's learned its lesson.”

He gave you a playful glare. You laughed softly as he left, shutting the door behind him. The room fell silent once more, save for the faint hum of the house around you. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the repaired lamp and letting out a long, steadying breath.

"Dramatic," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. But the small smile faltered, slipping away as something cold and heavy began to settle in your chest. A creeping dread gnawed at the edges of your mind, setting your breaths into an unsteady rhythm.

Dramatic.

You could almost hear Sirius’s teasing tone, James’s bark of laughter. The word echoed, sharp and cutting in the stillness of the room.

“They’re just joking.”

“Don’t take it to heart.”

“They don’t mean it.”

You’d told yourself these things countless times before. But their voices played on a loop in your head, louder and louder, until you could hardly think of anything else.

“If you get married, we’ll finally be a big pack!”

“You two would be perfect together!”

“You’d work so well- balance each other out!”

James and Sirius’s teasing words replayed with such vivid clarity, the echo of their laughter twisting in your chest like a knife. Even Lily’s and Remus’s softer reassurances slipped in, well-meaning but hollow now, reminders that they’d never taken it as seriously as you did.

Because all jokes have a bit of truth to them, don’t they? That dark, nagging voice in the back of your mind whispered its usual poison. What if they mean every word? What if they’ve always meant it?

The years of good-natured teasing, the remarks, the suggestions- they stretched out in your memory, suddenly too heavy to ignore. And for the first time, you wondered if that was all you were to them. If you were just a puzzle piece waiting to fit into their perfect picture.

The thought made you feel small, insignificant. Like your only worth to them was tied to something you didn’t even want. It wasn’t a new fear- not really- but it had always been something you could push aside. Something you could shake off with a roll of your eyes and a forced laugh.

But not today.

Today, it was eating you alive.

The weeks that followed were quiet. Too quiet. The lively energy you usually brought to Grimmauld Place seemed to dim, like a fire struggling to stay lit. The teasing banter that once felt like second nature now felt heavy, stifling. You found yourself retreating into your room more often, your appetite waning as the days blurred together.

At first, they didn’t notice- not fully. James and Sirius chalked it up to stress, maybe a rough patch. “She’ll bounce back,” Sirius had said confidently, leaning back in his chair like it was a guarantee.

But then you started skipping meals. Not just breakfast, but dinner too. You’d pick at your plate, offering vague excuses before excusing yourself early. The chatter at the table would falter each time you slipped away, the tension thickening like storm clouds.

You avoided Harry most of all. The warm sibling bond you’d always shared felt unbearable now, every interaction laced with an invisible wall you couldn’t bring yourself to break. He’d tried to confront you once, standing awkwardly in the doorway to your room.

“Hey,” he had said, his voice uncertain but soft. “You’ve been… quiet lately. Everything alright?”

You had plastered on a smile, too tight to be convincing. “I’m fine, Harry. Just tired.”

He’d hesitated, his hand gripping the doorframe like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or leave. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything.”

The lump in your throat had felt insurmountable, and you’d turned away under the guise of searching for something on your desk. “I know. Thanks.”

He hadn’t pushed further, but you’d felt his lingering gaze before he left, the door clicking softly behind him.

Sirius, of course, noticed the cracks in your armor. He’d tried to coax you back to your usual self with his over-the-top antics, but your forced chuckles only seemed to worry him more. Remus had asked if you were feeling ill, his sharp eyes scanning your face with parental concern, but you waved him off with a quiet reassurance that everything was fine.

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting Grimmauld Place in a muted twilight. The kitchen was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the radio in the background and the occasional clatter of dishes as Lily cleaned up after dinner. You sat at the table, idly tracing patterns on the wood with your fingernail, your untouched tea growing cold in front of you.

“Alright, love,” Lily said softly, breaking the silence. She pulled out a chair and sat across from you, her eyes kind but steady. “I’m not one to pry, but something’s been eating at you for weeks, and we’re all worried.”

You froze, your fingers stilling on the table. “I’m fine,” you muttered, the words automatic, rehearsed.

Lily tilted her head, her fiery hair catching the faint light. “You’re not fine. And that’s okay. But shutting us out isn’t going to help.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” Lily pressed gently. “You’ve been pulling away from everyone-especially Harry. You barely eat, you hardly talk, and you don’t even sass Walburga anymore. That’s not like you.”

The mention of Harry made your chest tighten. You clenched your jaw, your hands curling into fists on the table. “It’s nothing he did,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Lily’s brows lifted slightly, her gaze sharpening. “Then what is it?”

You hesitated, the storm of emotions that had been building for weeks threatening to spill over. The kitchen felt too small, too stifling, and Lily’s unwavering gaze made it impossible to retreat.

“I just…” You started, your voice trembling. You shook your head, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m tired of the jokes. The teasing. All of it.”

Lily frowned, leaning forward slightly. “What jokes?”

“The ones about me and Harry,” you snapped, your voice louder than you intended. “About how we’re perfect for each other. About how it’s destiny. It’s like that’s all anyone sees when they look at us.”

Lily’s expression softened, but she didn’t interrupt. She waited, giving you the space to continue.

“I’m not…” You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat. “I’m not in love with him. I never have been. And I never will be.”

Your voice broke on the last word, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders trembling. Lily reached under the table, her hand resting gently on your knee. “It’s alright, love,” she said softly. “Keep going.”

“I hate it,” you admitted, your voice muffled. “I hate how they act like it’s inevitable. Like my only purpose is to… to marry Harry and make everyone happy.”

Lily’s hand squeezed your knee, her touch grounding you. “No one expects that from you,” she said gently. “Not really.”

“They do,” you insisted, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t care. “Even if they don’t say it outright, they mean it. And I’m just supposed to go along with it because it’s what they want.”

“Do you want to date Harry?” Lily asked, her voice careful, measured.

You shook your head vehemently, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “No. I don’t. I’ve never wanted that. I don’t… I’m not even attracted to men.”

The confession hung heavy in the air, the weight of it both terrifying and freeing. Lily’s eyes widened briefly, but she quickly masked her surprise with a soft, understanding smile.

“That’s what’s been eating at you,” she said quietly, more to herself than to you. “You’ve been carrying this alone.”

You nodded, your throat tight. “I just… I didn’t know how to say it. And I didn’t think anyone would take me seriously.”

“I take you seriously,” Lily said firmly, her hand never leaving yours. “And I’m so proud of you for telling me.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door creaked open, and you looked up to see James, Sirius, and Remus standing there, their expressions a mixture of concern and uncertainty.

Lily turned her head toward them, her gaze sharp. “Don’t you dare say a word.”

“We weren’t eavesdropping,” James said quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “We just… heard voices.”

You flushed, your chest tightening as their presence threatened to overwhelm you. But Lily’s hand squeezed your knee again, her steady presence grounding you.

“It’s alright,” She murmured, her voice low. “If you’re ready.”

You hesitated, your gaze flickering between the three men. James looked as though he was holding his breath, Sirius’s expression was unreadable, and Remus’s eyes were filled with quiet understanding.

Finally, you exhaled, your shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m not in love with Harry,” you said, your voice steadier now. “And I’m not interested in men. At all. And I- hate that you guys assume. Assume I-” Your voice cracked and there was a long moment of silence.

Sirius moved first, his usual bravado stripped away as he slowly approached you. His grey eyes were soft, filled with something that looked painfully close to regret. He crouched down beside your chair, resting one hand on the table and the other gently on your arm.

"Kid," he started, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to... I didn’t realize we were pushing you like this."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Sirius squeezed your arm lightly, his expression heartbreakingly tender.

"You’re my little girl," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel like you’re anything less than exactly who you’re supposed to be. And if we made you feel that way... I’ll never forgive myself."

That did it. The tears you’d been holding back slipped free, and you let out a shaky breath. Sirius reached up to gently wipe one away, his touch careful and loving. "You don’t owe anyone an explanation. You don’t have to be what anyone expects, not even us."

Behind him, Remus was watching with a guarded expression, his gaze flickering between you and James. The latter stood frozen in the doorway, his face pale and his hands trembling at his sides. He looked like he’d been punched in the gut.

"I..." James started, his voice cracking slightly. He swallowed hard, his hazel eyes glistening as he took a shaky step forward. "I didn’t know. I didn’t- Merlin, I’m so sorry."

You looked up at him, your tears blurring his figure. His voice broke again as he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I thought we were just joking around, just... having a laugh. I didn’t realize we were hurting you. I would never-" He cut himself off, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "I never wanted you hurting."

Sirius’s hand remained steady on your arm as he glanced back at James, his expression unreadable. But the slight twitch of his jaw and the flicker of his gaze told you he was holding back words of his own.

Remus finally stepped in, his calm, measured tone breaking the tension. "It’s not about what any of us wanted," he said softly, addressing James but keeping his focus on you. "It’s about what she needed- and didn’t get- from the people who were supposed to protect her."

James visibly flinched, his shoulders slumping as he looked at you again. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "For every stupid joke, for every time I didn’t think- just, all of it. I’m so, so sorry."

For the first time in weeks, you felt the weight in your chest lighten, just a little. You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to be seen for who I am. Not... not who you all want me to be."

James nodded, his eyes glassy but determined. "You’re right. And from now on, we’ll do better. I’ll do better."

Sirius tightened his grip on your arm briefly before letting go, his hand coming up to cup your face. "We’ll figure this out, pup. You’ve got us. Always."

"And for what it’s worth," Remus added, his soft smile offering a flicker of comfort, "we’re proud of you. For being honest, even when it’s hard."

Before silence could over take the room; Harry entered the kitchen with his usual messy hair and an expression of mild concern, but the moment he saw your tear-streaked face, his demeanor changed entirely. His eyes darted between you, Sirius, and James, his body tensing like he was ready to jump to your defense.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his voice sharp with alarm. He pointed an accusatory finger at James. “Dad, what did you say? Did you-”

“Harry,” You interrupted quickly, your voice wavering but firm. You stood from your chair and took a step toward him, guilt tugging at your chest. “It’s not him. It’s not anyone’s fault. I just… I should’ve talked to you sooner.”

Harry blinked, his brow furrowing as he looked down at you. “Talked to me about what? Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I’ve been ignoring you, and that wasn’t fair. I’m sorry, Harry.”

He shook his head, his concern not easing. “Don’t worry about that. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

The words caught in your throat for a moment, but then you found the courage to say them. “I like girls.”

Harry stared at you for a second, his expression unreadable. “Yeah,” he said slowly, his tone filled with cautious confusion, “Me too.”

For a brief, horrifying moment, you thought you’d miscalculated everything. But then he raised an eyebrow, smirking as he added, “You kinda snogged my girlfriend, though.”

You blinked, startled by the unexpected quip. Then the absurdity of it hit you, and a laugh bubbled out of your chest, light and free. Harry grinned at your reaction, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you like a protective barrier, and for the first time in weeks, you had your best friend back.

“I was so worried,” He mumbled into your shoulder, his voice softer now. “You’ve been so distant, and I didn’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything,” You assured him, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s just been… a lot. But I’m okay now. Or I will be.”

Harry pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes searching yours. “You could’ve told me, I’m always on your side, you know that, right?”

You nodded, tears pricking your eyes again, but this time they were accompanied by a warm smile. “I know. Thanks, Harry.”

He ruffled your hair affectionately, his grin mischievous now. “And, for the record, you owe me for Ginny. That was cheeky.”

“I’ll buy her flowers,” Your smirked with a chuckle, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

“I said you owe me. Stop trying to take her from me.” He chuckled, shoving you softly.

The room, once so heavy with tension, now felt warm again. Sirius, James, and Remus watched from the sidelines, their expressions a mixture of relief and quiet pride. Harry kept his arm around your shoulders as he turned to his dad and the others.

“Well,” he said brightly, “looks like we’re all good here. Is the kitchen open again? I feel like I'm owed desert- you made my cousin cry.”

The group erupted into laughter, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could laugh with them- truly laugh, without the weight of expectation holding you down.

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