The room was dimly lit, the fire crackling in the hearth casting shadows on the walls. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Remus were seated, the conversation fading as you entered. The air shifted when they saw you. Harry’s green eyes met yours, his expression flickering with recognition. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but you simply stepped further in, unflinching.

And then, there he was. Sirius. Your father. Ten years older, but unmistakable—the sharp features, the unruly dark hair now streaked with gray, and the piercing gaze that once held so much warmth but now only brought a bitter chill.

"How are you, love?" Sirius asked, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You felt your lips curl into a bitter smile before the words left you, steady and calm. "Get out."

A flicker of something—pain, maybe regret—crossed his face. "My girl… I’m a changed man."

A sharp, hollow laugh escaped you as you crossed your arms. "This family needed you ten years ago, and you walked out on us. Not now. Get out of this house."

The tension in the room thickened. Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat before speaking. "He's different."

You turned on him, your voice sharp and unforgiving. "Shut up."

Molly, standing near the kitchen doorway, glanced at you, her face caught between concern and disapproval. But Sirius raised a hand, stopping her from speaking.

"It's alright," Sirius said, his tone resigned. "I never stay where I am not welcome."

He began to move toward the door, his shoulders heavier with each step. Pausing near the threshold, he glanced back, his voice barely audible. "Quite something you have become..."

You stood firm, watching him leave without a word. Inside, your chest felt like a storm, but you wouldn't let it show. You had grown into a woman who didn’t need him—a strong woman who had learned to stand tall despite the absence of the man who should have been there. And if he thought he could waltz back into your life now, he was sorely mistaken.