Second chances *ੈ✩‧₊˚ (harry potter x reader)

The Deathly Hallows

Hi everyone!

First off, i'm SO unbelievably sorry about the hiatus😭 there's an explanation on my conversations tab if you're really interested but there was another big factor.

I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS STORY!!!!!!!!

Like no actually it's bad. I have like a general idea but there's just so many gaps. I'm also quite sure that i'm gonna do 2 endings to this because the one i really want to do is genuinely gonna piss people off😭 so yeah

sorry if there are any mistakes

Anyway, here's the start of Deathly Hallows. I hope you enjoy it! Sending love always

(also, 87k reads holy shit? THANK YOU!)

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"Whatever?" Mrs Weasley questions. "Are you sure, dear?"

I nod.

"I have no use for anything down here. Furniture, decorations... Whatever. It's yours."

She pursed her lips for several moments, before sighing. "Alright... Thank you very much, Y/N."

I force a smile and turn on my heel, leaving Mr and Mrs Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, and Hermione on the downstairs of the Diggory residence.

Ginny and Ron had been forced by their parents to remain where we'd all been staying for the past few days — the Burrow.

Harry was back at the Dursleys.

Dragging my feet, I climb the stairs of this house I once called home.

I'd hardly made the fifth step when I heard rushing behind me: Hermione dashed over to me and agitatedly quickly asked me, "Can I pack your clothing for you?? It'll give you more time to uh... You know."

She was fidgeting quickly with her fingers, anxiously eager to help wherever she could.

"Thank you, Mion—"

She sprinted up the stairs to the first door on the right, closing the door behind her. I could hear the rushed opening and closing of my drawers and cupboards; the girl already knew where all my things were and had helped herself to a suitcase.

But I remained fixed on the fifth step, staring at my shoes.

It was screaming at me: the family pictures that coated the wall beside the staircase.

After losing my brother, I hadn't had the heart to look at them.

But after losing everyone? ...

I needed to though. I knew these were things I wanted to take with me. I took a deep breath, and looked up.

At least 15 pictures of the Diggorys were before me. From birthdays to holidays to normal days... There.

I take another breath before I start putting them, one by one, in my backpack. My father was mainly the one behind the camera, not being fond of the limelight... so I ignored the ache in my heart as my hand skipped over the picture of a primary school Ced, missing his front teeth, and our father standing arm in arm with wide smiles.

I'll cut him out, I think, once the wall was barren from everything but that photo. I'll cut him out and leave Cedric.

So I packed that frame right into my bag, along with every other one, knowing I'll do no such thing.

The staircase looked desolate now, stripped of the warmth and life the photos had given it. The silence was deafening, nothing like laughter and chatter that used to fill this house once upon a time.