𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 - Harry Potter x Fem!Reader¹

10.. THE FIREBOLT

Y/N didn't have a very clear idea of how she had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All she knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that she hardly noticed what she was doing, because her head was still pounding with the conversation she had just heard.

Why had nobody ever told her? Dumbledore, the Potters, Hagrid, Cornelius Fudge... why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Y/N's parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them?

At dinner, Hermione, Harry, and Ron kept urging her to eat, sliding various plates toward her, trying to tempt her with different foods. She could feel Harry's eyes on her the whole time. He didn't say anything, but the weight of his gaze was unmistakable. Each time she dared glance up from her untouched food, he quickly looked away.

It was rare for their friendship to feel this strained, but Y/N couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes for more than a second. He was her friend, but at that moment, she felt a barrier between them that hadn't existed before. She could sense the pity in his gaze, and she hated it. When had he ever looked at her like that?

Y/N managed to sneak away when they had gone to the other tables to see if they had any other foods she might be interested in trying. She went up to the empty dormitory and headed straight for her bedside cabinet. She quickly found what she was looking for — the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given her two years ago, which was full of wizard pictures of her mother and father. She sat down on her bed, drew the hangings around her, and started turning the pages.

The vibrant images of her parents leapt to life — her mother with her warm smile, eyes sparkling with mischief, and her father always at her side, blinking mid-picture in almost all of them.

But today, all Y/N could see was the shadow of betrayal that hung over those joyful moments. Her heart raced as the conversation she overheard replayed in her mind, each word piercing through her like icy daggers.

She stopped on a picture of what seemed to be the Potters' wedding day. Y/N recognized the bride and groom as Harry's parents at once. There was Harry's father waving up at far, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with her husband.

Next to Mrs. Potter stood Y/N's mother. She had a grin that could light up the entire school, looking so impossibly young and carefree. Y/N pulled back the curtains ever so slightly and looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror through the slightly ajar door. The resemblance between them was almost uncanny.

In the photo, her mother leaned against Mrs. Potter, their smiles mirroring each other, as if they were sisters. Y/N felt a pang of longing at the sight; she wished she could have shared moments like that with her mother.

And there... that must be him. Sirius Black... Y/N had never given him a thought before.

If she hadn't known it was the same person, she would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?

Y/N swore to herself that she would never be jealous of Hermione, Harry, or Ron whenever she saw them interacting with their parents, that she would never hold that against them because of her own selfishness. It was an easy promise to make for she knew that jealousy would only poison her heart, twist her memories of her parents into something bitter. Yet she was only reminded of the gaping void that had been left in her life. Every Christmas, their laughter echoed in the common room like a haunting melody, one she longed to join in but felt unworthy to partake in.