It felt… odd to be in James’s childhood home.

His parents were so warm and welcoming. His mother had made a fuckton of food, his father had showered you his mother’s engagement ring- what the fuck was this?

The seemed so… happy.

The grand Potter Manor was homely. There was a Christmas tree in almost every room, all of which were elegant and comfortable. You had grown up being screamed at not to touch the parlour, he had grown up decorating Christmas trees with his parents.

Your twin brother, Sirius, had run up and hugged James’s mother, Euphemia. He was calling her Mom. What about Mother? You asked yourself silently, bristling as the Indian woman hugged you, punched at your cheeks, and fretted about how skinny you were.

There was a part of you that hated Sirius. He was your twin, your brother, your best friend since infancy. But, in a way, you felt betrayed. He had left you to bear the consequences of his departure, to protect Regulus, to take the beatings meant for him. He hadn’t even asked you to come with him, only ran out in the middle of the night. Suddenly, you had become the pride of your mother, Walburga.

You resented him because he had gotten an escape. You had gotten fucked over.

There was another part of you that resented him for replacing your parents with James’s. Yes, you had been abused and neglected, put those were your parents. That was your mother and your father that he was replacing. How could he do that? You wondered to yourself, doing your best to politely refuse the Indian pastries Euphemia was offering you.

You weren’t hungry right now. You used to be. In truth, you existed off coffee, spite, and a deeply-rooted and forced perfectionism. But that was before the pregnancy, now it was because you might grow up if you ate.

“Oh, but my dear, you’re wasting away! Why don’t you have a pastry, hmm? You’re carrying my grand baby!” The plump woman pushed excitedly, one of her hands coming to rub your belly, only ever-so-slightly swollen with a baby.

You pushed her hand away, flinching back into James’s arms. He caught you by the waist, and let out a sigh. “She… she doesn’t like to be touched, Mother.” The Quidditch Captain attempted to explain to his mother, who looked very confused, and very hurt.

The rest of the night wore on slowly.

It was after dinner now, and the group was situated within the Drawing Room. Sirius had brought a broad with him, a beautiful redheaded half-blood by the name of Allison Montgomery, although he called her Allie or his darling.

They were dancing to a record, something by the muggle band called the Bee Gees. You were sitting close to James, laps covered by a soft, quilt-like blanket. They watched as Euphemia held up all the baby clothes and blankets she had knitted for their “son.”

You were only three months along, but convinced you were having a daughter. You had brought this up, only to have her bulldoze right past it. You knew she had only the best of intentions, but it was starting to feel like she valued your womb more than anything you had to say.

So, you just watched Sirius and Allison enjoy themselves as you were forced to sit and listen to Euphemia, who had convinced herself you were going to drop out of Hogwarts and live with the Potters. You intended to live on you own, after graduating school.