Harry Potter and the girl he loved

part three - chapter 1

(Y/n pov)

My house is no longer a home after the loss of my mother. I can hardly stand to be here without her because it reminds me she's gone.
The quiet hallways were no longer filled with her singing or the comforting smell of her perfume lingering in the halls.

I can't stand to be in her room without breaking down into tears.

About five weeks into the holidays, me and my dad finally decided to sit down and eat dinner together.
"So, Y/n," my dad says in a hushed voice, he hasn't been the same since mum but then again, neither have I, "how've you been?"

I give him a look.
"I know, I know," he sighs, "but I have something that might cheer you up."
I'm tempted to give him another look but instead, I put on a small smile and utter, "what is it, dad?"

"Sirius has invited us to spend the remainder of the holidays at his family home," he explains and I smile for real this time.
"Really?" I ask in shock, tears welling up again in my eyes. He nods.

"We leave tonight, so pack up all your things and be ready to go by 9 pm," dad says.
I put down my fork, which I was only using to poke at my food and am about to rush upstairs when I pause and ask, "wait, who else will be there?"

"For a few weeks, it shall be just us, then the Weasley's, Harry and Hermione included, and a couple of other people will join us, "my father smiles.

I nod and my heart gets all fluttery for a minute but I don't know why. I run-up to my room and begins to pack, throwing in things I'll need for both the school year and for the rest of the holidays.

I eventually do one last sweep of the room, just checking that I've got everything, is when I spot it. There it sits, under my bed as though nothing has changed.
Cedric's jacket.

The jacket he gave to me at the world cup when I was shivering cold. I just sit there staring under my bed as if I'm afraid to move, afraid of what to do next.
I pull myself together and reach for the jacket.

I hold it in my hands and bring it up to my face, inhaling the last sweet scent of him. I get hit by the smell instantaneously and it almost feels like I'm back at Hogwarts, lying asleep on his chest, happy to be alive.

I suck in a shaky breath, and another, and another.
My throat feels tight and I'm struggling to breathe. I smack myself in the head multiple times, angry and frustrated at myself for being like this. I need some air.

I go over to the window and open it up, and I'm suddenly refreshed by the cool air.

I rest my head against the window frame in thought, I can't wait to be surrounded once again by the people I love.
It sucks being alone sometimes.

~time skip~

Four more blissful weeks come and go and luckily, I'm no longer the only teen in the house, don't get me wrong I love Sirius and my dad's company but it's nice to hang out with people my age.
The Weasley's (and Hermione) arrived a couple of days ago and ever since then strange guests have been coming to visit and stay over, some I recognise, others I've never seen before.

One evening, I walk downstairs to go get some water when I overhear in the kitchen, Sirius and Remus talking.
"When will Harry be arriving?" I hear my dad ask.
"They've just gone out to get him," I can practically hear Sirius grin through the door, "he should be here anytime now."

This excites me and I quickly go up to my room to change out of my pyjamas, and shower, both of which I haven't done in a while.

~time skip~
(Harry Pov)
The first thing I see when I enter the house is a dark corridor lined with picture frames. My eyes trail to the door, from which voices are talking, as I walk forwards.
I'm suddenly stopped and shoved aside by Moody as he shuffles past into the room the door contains. As each person walks past, they either give me a small shove, a pat on the head or a smile. The woman with the purple hair, who I quickly learned not to call Nymphadora, walks by and gives a small wink.

She stumbles on a rug before entering the room and my attention is immediately drawn to Sirius who sits in the centre of the table, and when he spots me he stops talking and smirks up at me.
I don't get to see him long before Mrs Weasley steps in the way.