a/n~welcome to fourth year everyone! buckle your seatbelts, you're in for a wild ride 😌

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࿐ ˚ . ✦𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗~(𝚗.) 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙; 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖✦ . ˚ ࿐

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕕 year brought a wide range of emotions to (y/n) (l/n)-or perhaps (y/n) Lupin. It of course was filled with laughter of the late summer nights spent clashing with the cool water that sprinkled against the grainy shore. Skin hot from the Sun that seemed to never set until the heavy eyelids of the little family decided to rest. Along with the days filled with nothing but golden trees and bloomed flowers came the ashes that masked some of the colors.

She came home the first day of summer, ecstatic to see her parents again. That is, until she realized she would have to tell them what she found out.

There was something that felt off about her biological parental situation. Astra and Vincent always shied away from the heavy conversation, their daughter never seeming to care that every time the answers they could provide were only crumbs of the whole truth that remained unidentified.

The Ministry of Magic was not ignorant, I mean they were the most complex and mysterious wizarding organization. Yet for some reason, they kept everything they knew about (y/n) chained up to just collect dust in the twisted minds of the workers. Or perhaps they truly hadn't a clue. However (y/n) would always consider the possibility that her parents were keeping it from her on purpose.

She came home, her parents greeting her with warm hugs and food that could only be categorized as the staple of their little cottage home. Their daughter noticed how shifted everything had become since she had been gone. Astra and Vincent carried a heaviness that noticeably slumped their shoulders, eyes glossy from lack of sleep, their smiles a mask for a worn down being that rested inside, and oddly the atmosphere of the home didn't seem as innocent.

Putting off the news, (y/n) had nervously ate and rushed to her room with her heavy beaten up trunk. Her voice was noticeably shaky, but that was the least of her parents observations. She too was worn down, fingers and lips scabbed from picking, eyes no longer holding a sense of hope and constantly seemed to be crying for an escape from pain.

Before any questions could be asked, she shut her door with a fake smile, dropping her trunk with a loud clatter, wind streaming in through her slightly ajar window. She paced, trying to piece together how to tell her parents that she knew what they didn't. Why was she afraid to tell them? They're her parents, they should be happy for her.

(y/n) groaned into her pillow, wishing, begging, that Harry or Hermione could be right next to her. She wasn't used to them not being just a stroll away, she always went to them if she didn't know what to do or say, and they would always give her viable answers. This time she was on her own, but being who she is, she decided that news like this couldn't be prepared with a speech.

With an inhale, she opened her creaky door to see her parents slightly raising their voices. The talking stopped as soon as her presence was heard, her mom giving her a soft smile.

"Hey, how are you holding up? Settling back in ok?" Astra spoke with love, but (y/n) could tell there was pain threatening to overpower it.

"Yeah! Um...settling in great. Listen, I need to talk to you guys. Can we sit for a second?" (y/n) twiddled with her thumbs, biting the inside of her cheek like she always did.

Her parents looked at each other with confusion. "Of course," Vincent said, guiding Astra to their soft, beaten up, sofa.

(y/n) sat across from them, clearing her throat while gaining the courage to speak, "So...as you both know, I was given to you by the Ministry of Magic. This was solely for the reason that the Ministry, supposedly, couldn't find a relative to place me with. Now, I have had many references to my origin throughout this year, but I hadn't thought anything of it. But...I uh, talked to one of my professors the day before I got on the train back home. Look, I know who my parents are."

Astra and Vincent's jaws dropped like screws had been loosened, fear and shock taking over their demeanor. Astra cleared her throat, wishing this wouldn't be true. "Now (y/n), nobody has information on them, I don't know how you could've possibly-"

"Mom, my biological dad told me himself. Believe what you want, but I know the truth," her voice slightly trembled, heartbroken as to how different this situation was than what she had imagined as a kid.

"Well alright. Who are they?" Vincent spoke, looking more in pain than (y/n).

"Vincent don't-" Astra whispered, before being cut off.

"It's ok, Astra. It's going to be ok. Who are they, (y/n)?" Their voices seemed less tense than when this conversation started, perhaps filled with a little bit of sorrow, but no longer tense. This gave (y/n) the courage to carry on.

"My mother Marlene McKinnon, she uh...she passed away when I was one. My father though, he's alive. He was a professor at Hogwarts this year, actually. Remus Lupin, have you heard of them?" (y/n) wanted this conversation to be over, wanted to run and hide.

Her mother gripped tightly on Vincent's knee. "Oh yes, we've heard of them. Brave people, very brave people." Astra took a deep breath, "(y/n) I am proud of you for having the courage to tell us, very mature of you. I want you to know that them being your parents doesn't make you any less of a daughter to us, and us raising you doesn't make them any less of a family to you, understand?"

(y/n) nods her head, slowly getting up from her tense position on the cushion, hesitantly heading back into her room and wondering why her parents were so quick to accept everything, the conversation seemingly weird. She holds back the urge to break down, to release all the built up anger and pain she's felt this year.

Only letting a lonely tear escape, she hurriedly grabbed a wrinkled piece of parchment and fresh ink out of her trunk. She wrote eagerly, needing to talk to her best friend.

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢,

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔. 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙻𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚎, 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚢'𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝙾𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎. 𝚆𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘. 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 (𝚗𝚘𝚝),

~(𝚢/𝚗)

The girl slowly crawled into bed, wondering why this room didn't hold as much joy anymore. Her parents didn't know about her seer abilities, at least she thinks they didn't.

She rested her eyes, not knowing that this simple action, the action that would be repeated every time she went to sleep, would become her worst nightmare. Literally.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

August 23, 1994

Sometimes when you're alone, the pain becomes too much to bear. Sometimes you don't realize all the pain you've been shoving done throughout your life until your sitting there at night, alone with your thoughts, and your heart aching in a cry for help. She sits in a ball, tears streaming down her face, wondering why there's so much ache, thinking the crying will release some of the pain. But once she's in that state of release, that state of emotion, it digs everything up. Every struggle, every deep thought, every stab that makes her chest feels like it's drowning, makes her throat wail as she tries to muffle her struggling with her damp pillow.

She needed someone. She needed someone to save her, to hold her and tell her that everything would be ok, and to really mean it. (y/n) hates to admit it, but that person that could help her ease the suffering she's endured this summer was Harry Potter. He's her best friend, but also the person that would make her feel loved and would actually understand
her suffering. She wished she stopped trying to shove it down just because she's too afraid of getting her heart broken.

Of course she's still young, turned 14 a few months ago, but what's that to mean that love and feelings mean any less?

It sounds selfish and cruel, but she needed someone to hold her while she cries, and to physically feel a pain of their own because they cared so much for her that her pain created a ache for them.

Harry had responded to her letter, the two continuing to write back and forth.

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 (𝚢/𝚗),

𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚝 𝙷𝚘𝚐𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 (𝚢/𝚗), 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎,

-𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢

(y/n) had made the mistake of thinking being a seer paused when she was on vacation. Thinking it would give her break right before her body was about to crumble. She had had visions every night this summer, and oh how terrible they were.

The most common one was a flash of green light, the sound of a body crashing to the floor, Harry screaming, and then her own body feeling a radiating pain that was so excruciating that it made her want to just Avada Kedavra herself.

Although one night, the regular cold sweats returned like a torturer that knocked down their victim once they finally began to regain strength. Her vision was of course still painful to go through, but this time was something different.

The Riddle House

The residence was still called that same name, even though it had been vacated for many years. Tiles missing from many areas of the large home, ivy overgrown, windows boarded, giving it a haunting look to match the story that went with it.

It had been a tale told by many to those around them, although as time grew longer, the details seemingly got twisted like a game of telephone. Despite not knowing the true story that lied behind those very walls, it always followed the same main idea.

Fifty years ago, the Sun was shining dead center above everyone, indicating it was a sticky and hot summer day. The Riddle House was in all its glory, the rundown characteristics not even in sight, lives bustling with their own unique complexity.

A maid had entered the drawing room on her own daily accord, only to be greeted by the sight of the three Riddles lifeless on the ground. The maid naturally ran out of the establishment screaming down the hill that the house had rested on top of, rousing as many people as she could.

Police arrived, but people had ill-disguised excitement and blooming curiosity, for the Riddle family was not one of many supporters.

The elderly Mr. and Mrs. Riddle were snobbish, not caring about anyone but the purebloods and mysterious guests that would enter their home from time to time. Their astounding amount of money didn't make their rudeness any lighter. Their son, Tom, was all in the same if not worse.

The Hanged Man village pub was booming with curious and suspecting customers, all discussing who could've possibly killed the Riddle family.

The Riddle's cook came tumbling into the whispering pub, everyone looking in confusion. He exclaimed that a man named Frank Bryce, the Riddle's gardener, had been arrested.

"Frank? He would never!" several people stated.

Then, as conversations continued, people started explaining how odd Frank was, how he surely could've done it. Now, everyone was convinced that it couldn't be anyone but Frank.

As Frank himself sat in the musty cell, his case becoming more serious, things started getting more complicated.

Upon further inspection, it was realized that the Riddle's had no sign of trauma. No wounds, no evidence of ingested pills, no signs of natural causes. In fact, aside from the fact that their hearts no longer were beating, all three were perfectly healthy. Frank was then released, for there was no evidence that the family was murdered.

Frank surprisingly returned to his cottage on the grounds, dedicating himself to the Riddle home. Boys would run over the grass that he had spent so much time perfecting into brilliant green blades of health. Some even breaking into the haunting and sinister architecture on dares.

Then (y/n)'s vision began, Frank in his cottage, seeing a light from the Riddle house and thinking it was just another break in.

Her vision began with a flash of a light, an old man frustratingly fumbling with a match to fire up his old stovetop. A scoff escaped his quivering lips as his gaze fell upon one singular flow of a glow that softly leaked out of a window in the Riddle residence.

The man went to the home, the only sound being the eerie birds and the pattering of his heavy boots on the concrete steps. He then entered, cobwebs and darkness flooding the wooden structures, as the man had nothing but a flashlight to guide him. As he walked up the creaky steps, an ominous feeling overwhelmed his being, like his soul was screaming for him to turn back around. The feeling of danger only became increasingly hard to ignore as he reached the landing before the top of the stairs.

A whispering could be heard, slicing through the sound of the groaning floorboards and grainy appearance of the dark. He turned off his light, not knowing if he wanted to be seen and not needing it as much now that the source of the light was dimly coming from the room ahead. He observed three figures in the room.

"If we were to do it, without the boy," a man suggested. He was unkempt, nails long and yellow with balding hair. (y/n) recognized him as Pettigrew.

"No!" said another weak and raspy voice, but this one was sitting in a chair and not visible, only a scrawny malnourished hand. "The boy is everything! It cannot be done without him, and it will be done, exactly how I said."

The next and final man had now come into sight, crouching beside the armchair that held the unknown voice. He had longish brown hair, a leather jacket concealing him. "I will not disappoint you, my Lord," he said hushely.

Conversation continued, as a hissing sound clashed with the group's whispers. It was coming from behind the old man, and he felt the tickle of his pant leg moving against his skin, only to realize it was a large snake slithering by.

They continued talking, the old man realizing what they were saying. The unknown voice had been responsible for the death of two women, and now he was planning on striking again. Whoever these people are, Harry Potter and (y/n) (l/n), they were in danger. He knew that now was his chance to walk away and tell the police.

The snake entered the room of the meeting, almost sounding like it was whispering in a dead language. It was directed towards the unknown body in the armchair, "Nagini tells me the old Muggle caretaker is standing just outside the door!"

Before the caretaker could carry himself away from the doorway, Pettigrew stood in the entrance staring. "Move, Wormtail, so I can give our guest...a proper greeting. Avada Kedavra!"

That was the end, (y/n) saw a flash of a familiar light, a flash of Harry yelping in pain while holding his sweat covered scar, and then she gasped awake.

It was unsettling, being so realistically in an atmosphere filled only with death, evil, and pain, then drastically being in a normal calm room. Filled with childhood memoria and toys smiling blankly. Every night it was that same feeling, all though what (y/n) just saw was not her normal experience. Recalling that her and Harry were in "danger", hoping it was a nightmare and not a nightmare coming true.

Not wanting to fall back asleep, she stared out of her window, only admiring the slow change of the colors that blended together in the sky, and the positions that the Sun took. As the sky started to turn a solid blue, there was a knock at her door.

"(y/n), are you awake? An invitation came for you," Astra said, holding an unfolded piece of parchment in her hand.

"An invite? For what?" she asked, sitting up with interest.

"See for yourself," Astra tossed her the envelope, walking out of the room.

It was from Molly Weasley, (y/n) was invited to stay at the Burrow the rest of break and go with them to the Quidditch World Cup. (y/n) jumped out of bed in excitement, not to mention Harry had to be there. There's no way he wouldn't be invited to something like this.

She threw on a cinched yellow dress with a low cut,just for something comfortable that still hugged her in all the right places. It was around noon, so she grabbed her journal and a buttery croissant from the kitchen and headed for the Willow tree by the lavender field.

It was hot, and she wondered who or what was going to bring her to the Burrow. She sat against the rough bark, feet rubbing against the soft grass, the lavender sway softly in the slight breeze. Despite all the haunting images she's had burned into her eyelids from her countless nightmares, she still had a feeling that maybe this year could bring something good for her.

She opened her journal, excited to write.

𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟸𝟺, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟺,

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦,

𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵. 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦? 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦? 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘊𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘺. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦,

~ (𝘺/𝘯)

(y/n) shuts her journal with a smile, leaning her head back against the tree and closing her eyes to feel the warmth of the Sun seep into her skin. As she sat however, she squirmed under the feeling that someone had their eyes on her. She ignored it, thinking she was just overthinking like she always did. Ignoring it was no longer a option when she heard the rustle of the lavender blossoms.

Her eyes snap open, trying to see if she saw someone ahead. The figure started waving, and she got up slowly, carefully, to squint her eyes and inch closer, as she let out a gasp.

"Harry!" she yelled, running through the purple array of flowers towards the boy. She hugged him, the force almost knocking him to the ground. He gripped her tightly looking at the field around him, now he knew where her lavender scent came from. "Oh Harry it's so good to see you, how did you get here?"

(y/n) took a moment to admire how he has changed. His hair was now incredibly long, his height had increased, and his jaw was now a little more defined. The only thing that hadn't changed was his bright smile and entrancing emerald eyes.

"Floo Powder, I've been looking out here for you for almost half an hour," he smiled widely, forgetting all the details in her face that he got to look at everyday last year. Now seeing them again made his heart flutter. "Ready to go?"

She nodded, grabbing her journal from under the tree and both of them heading inside. (y/n) grabbed her trunk and said goodbye to her parents, almost glad to be getting out of the place that now reminded her of painful nights.

"Wait Harry, did you bring extra powder?" (y/n) asked as Harry put a handful into her palm, his touch electrifying. She had never used the Floo Network before, so she was a little nervous. "You go first, Harry. I want to see how it's done."

Harry stepped into the fireplace, holding the powder eye level as he threw it down and yelled, "The Burrow!" A large flash of green and an appearance of smoke engulfed Harry, but once it died down (y/n) realized he was gone.

She nervously shifted the powder in her hand as she stepped into the fireplace, feet crunching. Taking a deep breath, she followed Harry's actions, throwing down the Floo Powder and yelling, "The Burrow!" The girl began to spin very fast, so fast that she started to feel sick and closed her eyes. Losing her balance she flew out of the Burrow fireplace, expecting to hit the hard ground, but instead something breaks her fall and she sighs in relief.

"Ow," underneath of her whines, and she realizes that Harry was the one that had broke her fall.

"Sorry," she groaned, quickly scurrying to her feet.

"It's alright," Harry says, as he takes her hand for her to help him up.

Next thing she knew almost the whole Weasley family stood in the kitchen.

"Did he eat it?" Fred asked excitedly.

"Yeah," said Harry, brushing off his clothes. "What was it?"

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," Fred said confidently. "George and I invented them, we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer."

"What're you lot talking about?" (y/n) said confused, not knowing the context of the situation.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came to the Dursleys fireplace to get me. Fred and George gave me some taffy to give to Dudley and his tongue blew up and he started choking. Mrs. Weasley told me to just go and get you and that she would sort it out," Harry was holding back a laugh, he surely enjoyed seeing Dudley in that state.

The room erupted into laughter, bringing (y/n)'s attention to the kitchen table. There sat Ron and two other men, that (y/n) could only assume to be Bill and Charlie Weasley.

"How are you Harry? (y/n)?" the closest one asked, who had to be Charlie. He was built with a structured face and calloused hands, with a shiny burn on his arm.

Bill got to his feet to shake their hands as well. He was tall with long hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, a fang earring that dangled, and clothes that would be seen at a rock concert.

A popping sound was heard, and Mr. Weasley appeared at George's shoulder. "That wasn't funny, Fred!" he shouted. "What on Earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," Fred lied. "I just dropped it...it was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" Mr. Weasley roared. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet-"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

Fred smiled, "It was four foot long before his parents would let me shrink it!" (y/n), Harry, and the Weasleys bursted into laughter.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted.

(y/n) was startled by two hands on either arms, Hermione and Ginny giggled, dragging her up the enormous steps of the Burrow.

"You can stay with us," Hermione said. "It'll be amazing, plus, I don't think you'd want to stay in a room with those boys."

I mean, (y/n) wouldn't mind sharing one with Harry, but Hermione was partly right.

The room was small, but cozy. Three beds neatly made with wallpaper that was peeling a little, a small window letting some of the sunset leak in.

The rest of the night consisted of laughs and catching up. Dinner was in the garden, flowers brightly scattered gracefully around them while birds chirped and Crookshanks chased gnomes around. There also had been talk of Sirius Black, for Harry was trying to write to him, the task being hard considering only a select few people knew he escaped from the Ministry.

Everyone in the Burrow went to bed early, hoping that sleep would make the World Cup come faster.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(y/n) awoke to Mr. Weasley yelling loudly for everyone to get ready. All three girls tried their best to go back to sleep, but there was too much commotion for their bodies to rest. They got up, changing into their outfits that they picked the night before.

(y/n) was confused throughout breakfast, for she caught Harry looking at her more than once. Maybe this year their moments would escalate. All she knew is that Harry had a different boldness about him.

Everyone carried backpacks on their shoulders that contained everything they would need for the next few days. It was early, not all birds were awake and everything was covered in the kind of soft light that makes you feel enclosed in the best way possible.

(y/n) walked with Hermione and Ginny, while Harry and Ron strolled ahead of them, the twins in the front right behind Arthur. The trees having a fog surround them while the soft grass was crushed underneath their feet, following Arthur Weasley's lead.

"Dad, where are we going?" one of the Weasley boys whined.

"Haven't the foggiest. Keep up," Arthur replied.

"How much do you wanna bet Ron's going to cry when he sees Viktor Krum?" (y/n) whispers, jokingly jingling some change in her pocket.

"Everything I've got," Ginny laughed back.

Hermione raised her eyebrow, "How much do you wanna bet you won't be able to stop staring at Harry while we're there?" (y/n) hits her arm with a warning look, Hermione continues as she says in a teasing voice, "Oh he will look so cute being so excited about Quidditch, maybe you'll even sit next to each other and hold hands-"

"Hermione! Not so loud, besides who's to say you won't be off with Ron while I'm supposedly staring," (y/n) smirked.

Before the conversation could carry any further a loud voice boomed, "Arthur! It's about time, son," a man with a cap, cane, and a well put together outfit stood steadily near a tree. That's all (y/n) could observe at least for they were still a good distance away.

"Sorry Amos, some of us had a bit of a sleepy start," Arthur said, looking back at Ron who was currently in the middle of yawning. "This, is Amos Diggory everyone. Works with me, at the Ministry."

It was now clear that the man had round spectacles, similar to Harry's. His straight grey hair covered his ears, and he had a smile on his face the screamed genuine happiness. He was well put together, and seemed to be alone.

Just then, a figure shot down from the tree that Amos was standing under. It was a boy, seemingly the Quartet's age, maybe a little older. He was tall with fluffy brown hair and a cocky smile, undeniably handsome.

"This strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" Arthur continued, shaking his hand.

"Yes, sir. This way," Cedric replied.

Ginny, Hermione, and (y/n) all gave each other a smirk, excited about the new (attractive) addition to the group. All of them knowing they'd seen him around Hogwarts, but never this close. (y/n) could hear Amos recognize Harry.

"Pleasure to meet you too, sir," Harry had said.

They all continued to the top of a hill, the Sun shining a warm orange over everything as it began to rise, the high plants on the hill swaying slightly. On top of the hill lay a single worn out boot.

"We don't wanna be late, come on. Get yourself into a good position," Arthur said, confusing everyone that didn't know what was going on.

"Why are they all standing around that manky old boot?" Harry asked, making (y/n) chuckle.

"That isn't just any manky old boot, mate. It's a portkey!" the twins said.

"Time to go!" Arthur said, (y/n) and Harry standing side by side and looking at each other in confusion.

"What's a portkey?" Harry asked to no one.

Almost everyone laid stomach down on the grassy hill, one hand placed on the brown peeling boot. "Ready? After three," Amos said. "One, two, three!"

"Harry!" (y/n) yelled, grabbing his hand and placing his on top of her own so that he wouldn't be left behind.

Everyone screamed as the world began to swirl around them in a speed that seemed unsafe. Limbs clanged against one another as people couldn't tell if they were upside down or even still one piece. A brilliance of light all of a sudden surrounded them.

"Let go kids!" Amos screamed.

"What?!" Hermione panicked.

"Let go!"

They complied and reluctantly let go, screaming more than before and flailing against the wind. They landed harshly on the ground, everyone groaning in nausea and pain. Cedric, Amos, and Arthur however gracefully floated down, amusingly laughing to themselves.

The group went over a small hill, music getting louder as they neared closer to their destination.

"Well kids," Arthur said, "welcome to the Quidditch World Cup!"

It was glorious, thousands of wizards were gathered in excitement, Irish music blaring across the site. People on stilts towered over even the highest tents, while people around them were all decked out in accessories and facepaint. Happiness and anticipation radiated through the atmosphere, and everyone looked around in awe. People were raising their tents, but it was quite confusing as to how they could fit everything and everyone into one tiny piece of fabric. Others flied around on brooms, laughter sprinkling the air.

The Diggory's and the Weasley's part ways, promising to see each other at the match. Continuing forward, Arthur comes to a stop. "Ahh!" he said. "Home sweet home."

Arthur opened the flap of a small tent, one that appeared to only house two people. This caused Hermione, (y/n), and Harry to think the man had lost his mind.

"What?" Harry said flabbergasted. He stood outside for a good minute before finally coming inside by (y/n) tugging his arm.

"Come on, Harry!" she had said.

Harry stood in shock admiring how vast magic was. "I love magic," he muttered.

The tent was huge, intricate decorations and enough beds to fit more people than they currently had alongside the different rooms. You could be set for life just by living in it.

"Girls, choose a bunk and unpack. Ron, get out of the kitchen, we're all hungry," Arthur instructed.

"Yeah get out of the kitchen Ron!" both twins said.

"Feet off the table!" Mr. Weasley scolded the twins.

"Feet off the table!" they said in unison.

(y/n) nudged Harry and broke him out of his trance, him smiling at her widely, happy that their own little group was back together again.

She was happy, really happy, when she was with her second family. She thought to herself, maybe fourth year wouldn't be so bad afterall.

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a/n~ Y'ALL first chapter of fourth year down oh my god. Ok this chapter lowkey makes me cringe so I'm sorry about that. I promise the rest won't be as boring fjskdk

Love you all, sorry about the updating lately! Until next time~ i

Mrs. Potter Squad

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