"𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮!"
"𝐘𝐨𝐮. . . 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞?"
⋆✧⋆
How could eleven-year-old Harry Potter have guessed, that sitting next to a young Y/N LeBeau on the first of September...
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The only noise that could be heard in the Shrieking Shack was Pettigrew's continuous whimpers.
The silence was suffocating. Lupin was looking slightly scared, Black was looking around confused, not understanding why Y/N wasn't answering his question. And Y/N. . . Y/N was staring at him, eyes wide, paler than ever.
To break the silence, Black turned to Lupin.
"That's her, isn't it?" He asked, a sad smile on his lips.
"No," Y/N spoke hesitantly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Black turned back to his old friend, who was wearing a guilty look on his face.
After a short pause, which felt like an eternity -- given the intense aura that engulfed the room -- Lupin nodded slowly.
Harry turned to look at Y/N. He saw her breathing quicken and become more shallow -- she still seemed to think that this was some crazy prank.
Black stepped back as if telling his friend that it was his job to speak now.
"Y/N," said Lupin softly, "I am your father."
And the silence returned.
The entire room but Lupin was looking at Y/N waiting for her response. Y/N was looking at Lupin -- who was avoiding her eyes. She looked at him as if the more she does so, she will find out whether or not he is lying.
"No you're not," She said eventually, sounding as if she is trying to convince herself as well. "My parents are Audrey and Domenick LeBeau."
"No they aren't," said Lupin, finally meeting her gaze. "They're your aunt and uncle."
"You have gone absolutely mental," Y/N laughed, sounding a little deranged.
"I have not gone mental. Domenick is your mother's older brother--"
"My father has no siblings."
"-- Your mother was a muggle-born witch," Lupin continued as if he had not heard Y/N.
Y/N had nothing to say. She desperately wanted to not believe him, but what reason would he have to lie?
"The only reason," Lupin continued difficultly, "that we didn't raise you -- your mother and me, I mean -- was because of him." He pointed at Pettigrew, his eyes seething. If looks could kill, the trembling Peter Pettigrew would have not only been dead, but his body would have been disintegrated into fine ash with the look that Lupin gave him.
"He killed her," choked Lupin, tears threatening to fall out of his eyes.
Black took one look at his friend and decided to take over and add his parts of the puzzle.
