Requested by LeahLP_3245

——

The signs had been there all along.

They were reluctant to allow anyone not of pureblood status into our home, they had acquired a list of the Sacred twenty-eight, mother had begun to attempt instilling pureblood supremacist views into me, and they began to leave me home alone for "friendly catch-ups" with the neighbours.

Our neighbours were the Malfoys. No catch-up with them could be considered "friendly."

Therefore, I had no reason to be shocked when they revealed to me their dark secret; my parents had become death eaters.

Alas, I was shocked. All the pieces came together, and suddenly, I began to understand why they had been acting so strangely.

I slowly began to disassociate myself with them. When around them, the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. I had to tread carefully around them, almost as if I were walking on shards of glass.

I stopped dining with them. Their dinner table discussions consisted of their Dark Lord's greatness and their gratuity toward the Dark Lord for "opening their eyes to the evil world around them."

I kept conversations with them to a minimum. No longer could I speak out of turn. If I did so, father and mother saw to it that I would receive a severe punishment.

All literature in my room and in the library was scoured through in case it were muggle. If it were a muggle work, it was thrown into the fireplace.

This went on for a grand total of two weeks. By the end of the two week period, my parents were branded, and they began to speak of branding me as well.

I would not allow it to go that far.

Still, I was lost.

I found myself slowly sinking into a black pit of despair.

I was trapped.

I had nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and nothing I could do. I could leave, sure, but what would I do? No one would understand my struggles. I couldn't think of anyone who had been in my place.

I was alone.

I was scared.

And rightfully so! I only had two options: accept what my parents had done, follow their teachings, and bare the mark, or I could run away and be left with absolutely no one and nothing to fall back on until I managed to straggle my way to Hogwarts. While the latter option was ideal, the former option offered security; I would know that I had a bed to sleep in, a roof over my head, and my parents would be proud of me, but I would be left to feel guilty, I would be ashamed, I would be reduced to being the most miserable person alive.

With conflicting thoughts, paranoia, and a feeling of shame, I was reduced to a shell of a human.

My stress over the entire situation rendered me silent and weak. My appetite had decreased dramatically. I could hardly stand to leave my room. Most days, I would wish for my silent end. Death seemed better than what would come if my decision were to be made, I was sure.

My internal struggles were kept only to me, and they ate me alive.

But I had to deal with it by myself.

——

I didn't go to Hogwarts.

Instead, Ron and Hermione managed to help me escape, and we met Harry in a discreet location in muggle London. From there, we set out to find and destroy Voldemort's remaining horcruxes.

Truthfully, I wasn't any better.

Harry was the only thing keeping me going.

Because he was, in a way, my lifeline, I followed him wherever he went and did whatever he said. To know that Harry, at least, was proud of me, made my hurt go away just a little. But only a little.

In the cover of the dark woods, I was able to hide my true inner turmoil. Harry wasn't able to look into my eyes and read my emotions as well in the dark. He was still able to if he really tried, but I never let him close enough.

Still, he knew something was wrong. Somehow, he always knew.

"Hey," he said, coming to sit next to me as I sat in front of a tree, "How are you?" Harry attempted to search my eyes, but my gaze remained on the leafy ground.

"I'm fine," I answered softly, not wanting to give away the true feelings dwelling just inside of me, ready to burst through the surface. I couldn't let him know.

Harry sighed knowing something was wrong, that I wasn't telling him the truth. I fidgeted with my fingers in my lap. I couldn't tell him. He wouldn't think of me the same.

"Finnigan, I know there's something wrong. You know that whatever it is, you can tell me," Harry tried to coax the words from me. I shook my head as my chest begin to ache. I couldn't tell him.

"There are more pressing matters at hand. Besides, Ron and Hermione are asleep, and we should be wary of anyone that could come our way," I tried to convince him as I rose from the ground, but I knew it was no use. Harry grasped my hand, gently pulling me back down beside him.

I met his eyes, furrowing my brow when I spotted concern and a little something else mixed in them. Harry took both of my hands in his.

"There may be more pressing matters to me, but this matters to you. Because it matters to you so much, it matters to me as well. Just tell me, Finnigan. You know I'll do whatever I can to help you," Harry said gently, his eyes gazing into mine so—so—I couldn't place the emotion.

I swallowed thickly as my eyes began to water.

"Harry, you are such a wonderful person, you know that? I-I can't imagine wh-what I would do if you-"

A twig snapped, cutting me off. Harry and I set into action; I woke up Ron and Hermione, and Harry patrolled our makeshift camp. We hurriedly ran through the woods.

Clearly, our running was nothing compared to the speed of the snatchers. Hermione sent Harry a hex to disfigure his face and quickly tucked away her wand as they surrounded us.

She took his glasses as well and hid them from view.

Harry was still somewhat recognisable, but not very. I silently prayed to whomever was above, hoping they would save us somehow. Of course, I didn't believe they would help us, they surely hadn't helped me with my parental and mental afflictions. But the pleas that silently left my lips were enough to steel my resolve.

——

I was pulled abruptly from my prayers and we were brought to Malfoy Manor.

Merlin, this was the last place I wanted to be. I knew that my parents were there somewhere. It wouldn't be long before word reached them that I had arrived.

Instead of dwelling on my parents, however, I brought my mind to the situation at hand; I was being forced into a cell next to Harry.

"Harry, I'm scared," I admitted quietly, feeling a rising sense of panic within me. Harry scooted to the edge of the cell, reaching toward me. He tried to assure me that I would be okay, but I knew he was lying and I had to tell him the truth.

I shook my head, stopping him from continuing.

"My parents are here," I said quietly, glancing around in fear of the death eater left to guard us hearing me, "They're death eaters now. I just know they'll do something drastic when they find out I'm here."

Harry seemed shocked, but he wasn't able to express it due to Fenrir Greyback unlocking my cell.

"No talking, Miss Finnigan. You two are coming with me. If I hear a word out of any of you, well," he chuckled harshly, "you'll die."

He jerked me out of the cell, and I stumbled to regain my balance. Unfortunately, his treatment of Harry was much the same.

Harry and I were hauled out the door and down several dimly lit corridors. Finally, the werewolf stopped, but only long enough to kick open the doors to the Malfoy's dining room. I quickly scanned the room, spotting my parents. My mother seemed to struggle in hiding her shock and fear, but my father was the picture of calm and collected; I knew better, though. His eyes held a brewing storm.

The werewolf let me go, seeing the icy glare my father sent toward him. I shared a quick glance with a still disfigured Harry. He attempted to offer me a small smile, but it was futile. Even Harry couldn't set my mind at ease.

My heart was racing, palms becoming clammy as I stepped through the threshold. I straightened my spine, rolling my shoulders back in order to seem more confident than I felt. Merlin, it was no use. One look into my eyes and you could see the panic rising within me.

Lord Voldemort himself was sat at the head of the table, a gruesome grin adorning his—snake-like visage. Merlin, he was so creepy!

The cruel man watched me closely, gesturing for my parents to rise from the table. Slowly, they did so and stood before me.

My mother could barely look me in the eyes, but father—well, his eyes burned with rage. He was doing very well to not act upon it, however.

I blocked out the words of the adults surrounding me, glaring defiantly into my father's eyes. The muscle in his jaw ticked as his grip on the wand by his side tightened. My father stalked toward Harry, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt and dragging him to the floor before me. He released Harry with a thud and pointed his wand toward him.

"Join us or your friend gets hurt," My father demanded icily. Mother finally looked at me with fear lurking in her irises. I shook my head frantically, turning my eyes back to my father's awaiting ones.

"I will do no such thing." Internally, I was so scared, but I knew I had to stand my ground; if not for my sake, then for Harry's. Mother's eyes hardened at my non-compliance.

"Why is this boy so important to you, dear? Has he caught your attention?" She asked, knowing well what she was doing. She was riling father so he would act irrationally. I shook my head as my father raised his wand.

"You're lying," mother accused with a knowing smirk. Father then pointed his wand at Harry as a beam of light burst from the tip. Harry screamed in pain, writhing before me on the floor. The sound was haunting, bringing the sense of panic back along with tears.

"Stop! Stop hurting him!" I exclaimed. Father listened to my pleas with a raised brow.

"Will you join our cause?" He asked, pointing his wand toward Harry again. My eyes moved from my father's to Harry, who was laid on his back. He was shaking from the sudden burst of excruciating pain. I felt another onslaught of tears well up in my eyes.

Silently, I shook my head.

And then, Harry was writhing around on the floor again. He had worn out his vocal cords to the point his voice was gone. The sound was pure torture. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head.

Sobbing, I screamed for my father to stop.

He didn't listen.

I screamed over and over and over for them to just stop.

"Why should I stop? What is so special about this boy? Hm?" Father asked condescendingly, still torturing Harry. Harry was convulsing, nearly to the point of death.

"Join us and he'll stop," mother insisted, motioning with her eyes in an effort to get me to agree.

With tears rolling down my cheeks, I shook my head once again.

"I'll never join you."

Mother, as if physically repulsed, took a step back with a grimace.

"Why won't you join us? We're your family! We can offer you anything you want!" Father asked, absolutely humiliated as well as furious. He was nearly to the point of doing something to me.

They wouldn't stop if I simply told them. Such was evident in their actions.

Merlin, I never thought it'd come to this.

"I love him!" I exclaimed, sinking to my knees beside Harry, "I love him!" I buried my face into my hands, sobbing pitifully.

This was not how I wanted my life to be. I never wanted to be faced with crying in front of Voldemort or his followers. I wanted to go to Hogwarts, graduate, enter a career as a potioneer or a healer. I wanted to get married, potentially have a baby or two, grow old, and die peacefully; I never wanted whatever the hell this was!

Merlin, I felt hopeless.

I told myself that if my parents or Voldemort didn't kill me, I would kill me.

I was positive Harry didn't like me—love me, whatever—back. If I managed to survive, I would be absolutely humiliated because he wouldn't return my feelings, and my confession would be for naught.

With my abrupt confession, a silence blanketed the room.

Father and mother were severely unpleased with me. The disdain was evident on their faces; mother did, however, have a spot of fear swimming in her eyes. While she was disappointed in me, she still was my mother, and the niggling fear inside of her mind that I could die would always haunt her no matter what I had done.

Before I could react, father's wand was pointed right at me with a bright stream of light flowing into my chest.

Everything went dark.

——

There was a thick fog hazing my mind, preventing me from understanding the faceless murmurs echoing in my ears. The world was a colourless void behind my eyelids. I felt no pain, only a strange force preventing me from awakening; it was as if my eyelids had been glued shut.

The murmurs became clearer, now ringing as I began to hear the different tones of the voices. Still, I could put no face to them.

The swirling haze in my mind lightened slowly as if ascending to a darker recess. The scene behind my eyelids still held a colourless void. I could now hear the voices with much more clarity; certain words I could recall, and I was able to make out a female voice and one— no, two male voices.

Quickly realising I was gaining my senses, I tried to move my body; I wanted to do any thing I could to awaken. Although numb, my hand was able to clench into a fist. I tried out the other one with the same result. If I were awake, I would have been smiling.

"She's moving," I heard a male voice announce followed by the shuffling of feet on the floor, coming closer with every step.

"Come on, open your eyes," a soft voice pled beside me. Tingles erupted under my skin as the person made contact with my face, cupping my cheek tenderly.

With renewed vigour I focused on opening my eyes. Slowly, my resolve paid off as my eyelids no longer felt glued together. A bright light flooded my vision, momentarily blinding me. I closed my eyes briefly to adjust, then opened them again; it was much easier the second time.

I was able to make out the face of Harry right next to mine. He removed his hand from my cheek, using it to squeeze my hand.

I tried to sit up, only to be hit with a wave of vertigo. Slowly, I laid back down, releasing a breath from the effort.

"Wha—where—" I allowed my eyes to wander my surroundings. "Where are we?" I finally managed, sitting up again with less of a dizzying reaction. Harry helped me, adjusting pillows so I could sit up properly.

"The shell cottage. Bill's house," Harry answered, perching on the edge of the sofa I was laid on. I glanced toward the other male in the room with realisation.

"I'll let Ron and Hermione know you're awake." The red-head left the room with a small smile. My eyes then landed on the blonde female I hadn't noticed before. She simply gave me a smile and followed Bill out.

Harry and I were alone. Nervously, I swallowed before allowing my gaze to fall on him. His eyes were on mine immediately as he reached to take both of my hands.

"Did you really mean what you said?" He asked quietly, tensing his shoulders as if to prepare for a negative reaction. Briefly, I questioned what he meant, then it hit me; I confessed my love for him without meaning to. Upon this realisation, pink assaulted my cheeks and I bowed my head, looking at my lap.

"I meant every word," I responded just as quietly, peering up at him through my lashes. Relief flickered in Harry's features before a beaming grin overtook him. I smiled just as brightly at this, happy that my words had made him smile like that.

Harry suddenly became serious, licking his lips as he leaned closer to me. His eyes darted between my own. Knowing what he was silently asking, I nodded once, slowly. He squeezed both of my hands as he pressed his lips to mine, our eyes fluttering closed at the euphoric intensity of the butterflies fluttering in our bodies.

——

7 YEARS LATER

After a long day of chasing around a rowdy James and cleaning up after a messy Albus, I was exhausted and nervous. It was mine and Harry's 5 year wedding anniversary. Our two were going off to visit Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, as they liked to call them, for the night so Harry and I could have some time alone together.

Harry and I had decided not to go all out this anniversary because we wanted to relax after having been working and looking after our rambunctious boys. But, before our night of relaxation could begin, James had to put on his shoes so he could go with Ron. The stubborn boy just wouldn't listen and instead elected to run around our home until either I caught him, or he tuckered out.

"James, please put your shoes on," I called out as he ran past me once more, loud giggles erupting from his chest as he did so. I sighed, turning to the red-headed male holding my younger son. "I'm sorry, Ron. He got into the chocolate while I bathed Albus."

"It's no problem. He'll wear himself out eventually." Ron offered a sympathetic smile, knowing I was exhausted beyond belief and James' rowdiness was in no way helping.  I only nodded in agreement.

James ran past me once again, catching his foot on the leg of the coffee table and promptly face-planting. I shook my head as he stood straight up and jumped into my arms, wailing into my neck.

"James," I spoke softly, "If you had put your shoes on and went with Uncle Ron, this wouldn't have happened, now would it?" He shook his head, sniffling as he lifted his head from my shoulder, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Shall I kiss it better?" James nodded, pushing his bottom lip out and whimpering. I peppered soft kisses on his forehead and cheeks, placing a last one on his nose, causing James to start giggling again.

"Now will you put your shoes on and go with Uncle Ron?" I asked with a small smile. James nodded happily, clambering out of my arms and sitting in the floor to pull on his shoes.

It was then the floo activated, and my soot-covered husband stepped out of the fireplace. He cast a quick scourgify over himself before surveying the room, confusion clouding his features when he spotted a red-eyed James slowly tying his shoes by my feet.

"What's going on?" He asked, inclining his head toward Ron in greeting. Ron did the same, passing Albus to him when the young boy reached his arms out for Harry. Harry pressed a kiss to Albus' hairline before looking to me for an answer.

"Your son face-planted after running around the house because he didn't want to put on his shoes to go with Ron," I explained, crossing my arms over my chest. James stood up, offering a sheepish smile to his father. Harry shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"Time to go with Uncle Ron," he said finally, passing Albus back to Ron. James hugged my legs, then Harry's, before running to Ron's side and clutching his hand. "Thanks for taking them, mate."

"It's no problem, mate. Hermione and I are always happy to take in your munchkins," Ron said with a smile as James tugged him into the fireplace. Harry stood beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist as the floo was activated and Ron and our boys left.

Harry pressed a kiss to my temple and moved away from me to pull off his coat and run upstairs. With a small smile, I went into the kitchen and grabbed a small, shallow box from a cabinet above the cooker.

The contents of the box had me chewing my bottom lip. How would Harry react? I couldn't be sure if he would be happy or not. I had spent weeks worrying over the contents of the box and how Harry would react, and really, I was sure he would love it, but I was always worrying over something quite unnecessarily.

I was brought out of my musings by the clearing of a throat. With a smile, I looked to Harry and held out the box. He accepted it with the confused raising of his brows and a smile.

"You may want to sit down before you open it," I advised, ushering him into the front room and onto the sofa. Harry, confused as ever, obliged to my request and sat down.

"Are you-?" Harry cut himself off, looking to my waist and then into my eyes. Realising his assumption, my eyes widened as I shook my head frantically.

"Merlin, no! I'm not pregnant again. It's just-" I cleared my throat, "The present may shock you, is all." Harry, although somewhat crestfallen, nodded and gave me a small smile.

Slowly, he opened the lid of the rectangular box. His hands shook slightly as tears formed in his eyes.

"Happy Anniversary," I said as a question, giving Harry an awkward smile when he looked at me. "It's small, but you can take them wherever you like, and they'll always-"

Harry's lips were pressed to mine, his hands trailing their way to my waist as I draped my arms over his shoulders and brought them round his neck, bringing him closer. We parted for air and Harry rested his forehead against mine.

"I love it. All the important people in my life are alive again thanks to you."

The gift was a small portrait of Remus and Tonks, James and Lily, Dumbledore, and Snape. It was fashioned to look like a strip of film, each picture a separate portrait of each of Harry's heroes. The pictures alone moved only briefly, but Harry would only have to touch one in order to speak to them.

Harry pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, pulling away with a smile.

"I have a gift for you as well, but you have to go into the bedroom to find it." 

——

AND THUS LILY LUNA WAS CONCEIVED.

Only joking!

I'm sorry it took so long. I had a bout of writer's block for a time, but I managed to work through it, thankfully.

I don't think anyone guessed Harry to be the love interest in this one. No one guessed at all, really. But that's okay!

Here's the hint for the next one:
-funny ginger

The first to guess correctly gets a follow!

Anyway, I hope you liked this one!

Requests are still open! Just go to my request book to see the requesting guidelines and such :)

Have a lovely day!