Harry Potter x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader
Summary: You and Harry are about to begin your first year at Hogwarts, but anxiety over which house you’ll be sorted into stirs mixed emotions, as you both feel the weight of other’s expectations.
Warnings: fluff, mild anxiety and self-doubt, brief mention of pressure to live up to parental expectations.
Authors Note: Thank you for all the support on my first post! I’m glad you all enjoyed it! Sorry, this took a while to post, I was going to post this oneshot a couple of days ago, but school got ahead of me. I’ve just hit my finals period, so my posts will be stretched out over a couple of days. I will try to pre-write some oneshots during the weeks that are the most hectic. So, with that being said, I really do hope you enjoy this oneshot! For the record, this is my personal preference of what house Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader would be in. So, enjoy this oneshot 😊
The late afternoon sun streams through the windows of the Potters' living room, casting warm, golden patches on the wooden floor. You sit cross-legged on the rug, close enough to Harry that your knees brush whenever one of you shifts. He’s been unusually quiet today, his green eyes darting between his parents and yours as they chat animatedly about their time at Hogwarts. The excitement in the room is infectious, but you can't help feeling a swirl of nervousness in your stomach. Tomorrow, you and Harry will be off to Hogwarts for the very first time.
“Do you remember the time we tried to sneak into the Forbidden Forest in our third year?” James grins, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sirius here thought he’d found a secret path to the Whomping Willow’s roots.”
Sirius, lounging on the couch with one arm draped over the back, laughs. “Hey, it wasn’t my fault that the map was wrong. And besides, that was your idea, Prongs.”
Remus snorts softly from where he sits beside your dad. “The map wasn’t wrong. You were just reading it upside down, Pads.”
Everyone chuckles at that, and even Harry cracks a smile. You nudge him with your elbow, and he nudges you back, his grin wider now.
Lily leans forward in her chair, her red hair catching the sunlight. “Honestly, the two of you were troublemakers from day one. I swear, I spent half my time at Hogwarts trying to keep you out of trouble.”
“But you loved us anyway,” James says with a playful wink, making her roll her eyes.
Sirius gives a mock-offended gasp. “Loved us? Potter, you adored us.”
“Absolutely adored,” Lily replies with a smile, before turning to look at you and Harry. “But enough about our mischief. What about these two? Tomorrow’s the big day.”
James leans in, his grin broadening. “So, which house do you think you’ll end up in?”
You glance at Harry, who looks just as uncertain as you feel. "I don’t know," you admit softly. “I mean… Gryffindor would be nice, right?”
“Nice?” Sirius bursts out. “Nice? It’d be perfect!” He sits up, eyes gleaming with pride and excitement. “You, my little star, are made for Gryffindor! Brave, daring – just like your old man.”
Harry laughs a little, and James joins in. “Same goes for you, Harry. You’re a Potter. Gryffindor through and through.”
But before either of you can respond, Remus shakes his head, his expression thoughtful but gentle. “It’s not about what house they end up in, though,” he says. “It’s about what kind of people they choose to be.”
Lily nods in agreement, her smile warm. “Exactly. It doesn’t matter if you’re in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. What matters is that your kind, compassionate, and treat everyone with respect. That’s what counts.”
You feel a flutter in your chest at their words. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear that until now. You glance at Harry, who seems to be taking in his mum’s words, his brow furrowed slightly.
Sirius leans back again, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Yeah, yeah, that too,” he mumbles, but there's a softness in his voice that you rarely hear.
Remus rolls his eyes fondly. “What Sirius is trying to say is that no matter where you end up, we’ll still be proud of you,” he adds, looking between you and Harry. “You’re going to do great things, both of you.”
Lily nods in agreement. “And you’ll always have us, no matter what.”
James reaches over and ruffles Harry’s already messy hair. “Hear that, son? No pressure.”
Harry grins, his nervousness seeming to fade a little. “No pressure,” he echoes, giving you a sidelong glance. “So… you think we’ll both be in Gryffindor?”
You shrug, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe. But… it’s okay if we’re not, right?”
“Of course,” your dad says quickly, his voice gentle. “As long as you’re happy, nothing else matters.”
The train whistles loudly as it begins to move, and you and Harry instinctively lean toward the window. Your parents are still waving frantically from the platform, their figures becoming smaller and smaller with each second. You spot your dad, Sirius, jumping up and down with exaggerated enthusiasm, waving both hands above his head, while Remus stands beside him with a more subdued smile, his arm raised in a steady wave. Behind them, you see Harry’s mum, Lily, holding James back by the arm, who’s now doing an absurd dance just to make you both laugh.
You and Harry press your palms to the glass, waving back with all your might, your faces practically glued to the window as the train pulls farther and farther away. The platform begins to blur, colours blending into one another until all you see is a distant speck of red hair and a mop of dark curls before they disappear entirely.
You both slump back into your seats, the train now moving smoothly along the tracks. The compartment around you is small but cozy, with two plush benches facing each other, covered in faded maroon upholstery that has clearly seen better days. The window beside you is slightly fogged, but you can still make out the shapes of trees rushing by, their green leaves turning into smudges of colour against the bright blue sky. Patches of sunlight filter through the window, casting warm golden spots on the floor and over your legs.
The world outside becomes a blur of countryside – rolling hills, scattered cottages, grazing sheep, and fields that stretch endlessly. Occasionally, you catch glimpses of a river winding its way alongside the tracks, sparkling like a trail of diamonds under the sun. The rhythmic sound of the wheels clattering against the tracks creates a soothing, almost hypnotic beat that fills the small space.
For a moment, the scenery mesmerizes you, and the excitement of the journey makes your heart flutter with a mix of anticipation and nerves. But soon, the silence in the compartment grows heavier, filled with the weight of all the thoughts and worries you’ve been holding in.
The train rocks gently beneath you as you and Harry settle back into your seats. Your hands remain clasped, both of you holding on as if the simple connection might anchor you in the face of the unknown. For a few moments, the silence is comfortable, the kind of silence that comes from years of friendship, of knowing each other so well that words aren’t always necessary.
But your mind is racing, and you can’t quite keep it all bottled up anymore. You turn slightly to face Harry, your voice a little tentative. “Harry… do you think it’s weird to feel so scared about all of this?”
Harry’s brows furrow, and he gives you a sideways glance. “No,” he says softly. “Not weird at all. I feel the same way.”
You chew on your lower lip, your fingers tightening around his. “I mean… I’ve been dreaming about going to Hogwarts forever, but now that it’s actually happening, I don’t know. What if… what if I’m not good enough? What if I don’t make any friends, or I can’t keep up in class, or… or…”
You trail off, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You don’t want Harry to think you’re silly for being so nervous, but he surprises you by nodding, a deep frown creasing his forehead. “I get it,” he murmurs. “I feel that way too. Especially about my parents…”
You tilt your head, surprised. “Your parents? But they’re so proud of you already. I mean, they’ve been talking about how great you’re going to do for weeks.”
Harry sighs, and his shoulders slump a little. “Yeah, but… what if they’re wrong? What if I’m not what they think I am? What if I’m not brave like my dad, or clever like my mum? What if… what if I don’t get into Gryffindor?”
Your heart tugs at his words, and you shift closer, leaning in. “Hey, Harry, look at me,” you say, and he reluctantly meets your gaze, his green eyes filled with uncertainty. “It doesn’t matter what house you get sorted into. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin… your parents love you, no matter what. You heard what your mum and my dad said.”
Harry’s lips twitch into a small smile, but he still seems unconvinced. “I know… but it’s hard not to think about it. Gryffindor feels like… like where I’m supposed to be. It’s where they were, and where all their stories come from. But what if I don’t fit?”
You squeeze his hand a little tighter. “I get it, Harry. I really do. I’ve been thinking about that too… and I’m scared of letting my dad’s down. Everyone expects us to be these brave, daring Gryffindors, right? But… what if that’s not who we are?”
He nods slowly, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. “Yeah… what if?”
You take a deep breath, your grip on his hand steady. “But… I think we have to remember what your mum said. It’s not about the house we end up in; it’s about the choices we make, the people we choose to be. You’re already kind, and funny, and so, so good, Harry. That’s what matters. And besides,” you add with a small smile, “I’ll be with you, no matter what.”
His expression softens, and he squeezes your hand back. “Thanks,” he says quietly. “That… that makes me feel a lot better. And just so you know… I’m here for you too. Always.”
Your heart feels lighter at his words, and you smile. “Always,” you repeat, the promise settling between you like a warm blanket.
Just as you're about to say more, the compartment door slides open with a clatter, and you both turn your heads to see the boy with fiery red hair standing there, looking hesitant. He shuffles his feet, glancing between you and Harry, and then blurts out, “Uh, hi… do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.”
You and Harry share a quick look, a silent conversation passing between you before you both nod. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. “Come on in.”
The boy’s face brightens with relief, and he steps inside, dropping onto the seat across from you. “Thanks,” he mutters, slightly out of breath. “I’m Ron. Ron Weasley.”
“Nice to meet you, Ron,” you reply. “I’m Y/N, and this is Harry.”
“It’s, uh, nice to meet you both,” Ron stammers, still looking a bit overwhelmed. “So… are you nervous about starting at Hogwarts too?”
You and Harry exchange another look, and this time, the smile you share is a little more relaxed, a little more hopeful. Maybe this journey isn’t so scary after all.
The entry hall feels stifling, the thick stone walls pressing in around you, their cold, unyielding surfaces amplifying every hushed whisper and nervous cough. The other first-years crowd around you, and you’re acutely aware of how close they all are. You can feel the tension in the air – like a tightly wound string ready to snap – and it only makes your own nerves worse. You shuffle your feet on the polished floor, your shoes squeaking softly against the stone, and you resist the urge to reach up and tug at the collar of your robes. Your mouth is dry, and your heart is hammering so loudly that you’re sure the others must be able to hear it.
Professor McGonagall stands before you, tall and imposing, her eyes sharp behind her square spectacles. She surveys the group with a kind of quiet authority, and when she begins to speak, her voice carries through the hall, clear and steady.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she announces, her tone both commanding and warm. “In just a moment, you will step through these doors and join the rest of the school in the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. The house you are sorted into will be your family here at Hogwarts – a place where you will live, study, and grow. Each house has a proud history and has produced remarkable witches and wizards, and each values different traits in its members.”
As she continues, you glance around, feeling the collective apprehension of the students around you. Some are shifting nervously on their feet; others stare wide-eyed at the towering wooden doors that lead into the Great Hall. You catch a glimpse of Harry beside you, his hand brushing against his pocket where he’s tucked his wand, his eyes flicking up toward the ceiling as if searching for reassurance. You wonder if he’s as scared as you are.
McGonagall’s voice is calm, but you can feel the weight of her words pressing down on you. She talks about house points, the House Cup, and the importance of upholding the values of whichever house you are sorted into. You try to focus, but your mind keeps wandering, your thoughts spinning like the gears of a clock wound too tight. What if you don’t fit in? What if you end up somewhere you don’t belong?
A faint chime sounds, and Professor McGonagall nods. “Follow me,” she says, and the wooden doors swing open with a deep, resonating creak.
You step forward with the rest of the group, your heart thrumming in your chest, and then you’re inside the Great Hall. The space is enormous, more magnificent than you ever imagined, with four long tables stretching out before you. Hundreds of faces turn to watch as you enter, their expressions curious and expectant. The enchanted ceiling above mirrors the night sky outside, glittering with stars that seem to hang just out of reach. The flickering light of the floating candles bathes the hall in a soft, golden glow, casting dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls.
Your eyes dart to the staff table at the far end, where the professors are seated. Their faces are a mix of welcoming smiles and appraising looks. You spot Professor Dumbledore, his silver beard gleaming in the candlelight, his eyes twinkling with some hidden amusement. The sight of him should be comforting, but instead, it only makes you more nervous.
Professor McGonagall leads you to the front of the hall, where a single stool sits, a ragged, old hat perched on top. The Sorting Hat. It looks worn and frayed, its brim drooping slightly, but you know it holds a kind of ancient magic – a magic that will decide your future in just a few moments. Your stomach twists, your palms are clammy, and you can feel a bead of sweat sliding down the back of your neck. You steal a quick glance at Harry, who’s standing next to you, his face pale and his jaw set. He’s trying to look brave, but you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are.
The hat’s brim twitches, and it suddenly bursts into song, its voice echoing through the hall. It sings of the virtues of each house, the qualities they prize most – courage, loyalty, intelligence, ambition. As it sings, you can’t help but feel like it’s speaking directly to you, asking you to choose, to decide who you are, and where you belong. The hall falls into a hush as the song ends, the tension in the room growing thick and heavy.
Professor McGonagall unrolls a scroll, and you hold your breath, waiting, every muscle in your body tight with anticipation. “When I call your name, you will come forward, put on the Sorting Hat, and be sorted into your house.”
The names begin, and you watch each student make their way to the stool, some with trembling hands, others with forced smiles. The hat barely touches some heads before shouting out a house, while for others, it seems to ponder a while, drawing out the suspense. Your nerves tighten with every cheer, every new addition to each house. Your hands feel cold despite the warmth of the hall, your heart racing faster and faster with each name.
Then you hear it: “Lupin-Black, Y/N.”
Your heart stops for a second. Everything around you feels like it’s frozen. Your feet feel rooted to the spot, but somehow, you manage to step forward, the sound of your shoes on the stone floor echoing in your ears. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you – your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure they can all hear it too. You force your legs to move, one step after another, as if you’re walking through thick, heavy fog.
The stool feels hard and uncomfortable beneath you as you sit down, and when Professor McGonagall places the Sorting Hat on your head, the world around you plunges into darkness. You gasp, feeling like you’ve been submerged underwater. For a moment, there’s nothing but an endless black void stretching out around you. Your hands grip the edge of the stool, your knuckles turning white.
“Hmm… intriguing,” a voice whispers in your ear, close and raspy, sending a shiver down your spine. “I see a lot in you, yes… courage, certainly… but there’s more, isn’t there? A deep sense of loyalty, of compassion… and yet, a sharp wit, a mind always questioning… and an ambition too, a drive to prove yourself, to make your own way…”
The voice – its tone curious, almost playful – swirls around you, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel exposed, like the hat is peeling back all the layers of who you are, examining everything you’ve ever thought or felt.
“I see bits of Gryffindor… bravery, yes, but also a fierce sense of justice… a touch of Hufflepuff’s kindness, too, always wanting to help… but what’s this? A Ravenclaw thirst for knowledge, always eager to learn… and a hint of Slytherin’s ambition, a desire to carve your own path, to stand out…”
Your pulse quickens, and you feel the tension coil tighter in your chest. You don’t know what the hat will choose, what it sees in you that you don’t. You’re scared, excited, and something else – something you can’t quite name.
“What to do with you…” the Sorting Hat muses, almost to itself. “Yes, I see it now… but which house to choose?”
The void begins to brighten, slowly, like dawn breaking after a long night. The hall comes back into focus around you, the noise flooding in all at once, and you realize the hat is making its decision. The pause seems to stretch for an eternity, every heartbeat an agonizing thud in your chest.
And then, the hat takes a breath and calls out-
The Great Hall buzzes with the morning chatter of students as you sit at the table, staring down at your plate of toast and eggs. You pick at the food absentmindedly, still adjusting to the strange rhythm of your first few days at Hogwarts. The sky above the enchanted ceiling is a soft, clear blue, and the sunlight streaming through the windows bathes the hall in warmth.
Harry sits next to you, quietly munching on a piece of toast. He nudges you with his elbow, a small smile on his face. "You ready for classes today?" he asks, his voice full of excitement.
You try to smile back, though your stomach feels too jittery to manage more than a half-hearted grin. "I guess," you reply. "Still feels weird, you know? Like, we’re really here.”
Harry nods, his green eyes glinting with shared nervousness. "Yeah, but it’s kind of amazing, right?" He glances around the hall, the grandeur of it all not lost on him, either.
Just as you're about to respond, the fluttering of wings fills the air. You look up to see the usual morning rush of owls swooping into the Great Hall, delivering letters and packages to students. You’ve been waiting for a letter from your dads, and a part of you hopes today will be the day.
And then you see it – a scarlet envelope with your name on it, clutched in the talons of a sleek black owl. Your heart sinks.
"Oh no," you mutter, sinking a little lower in your seat.
Harry looks over at you, eyes wide. "Is that…?"
"Yeah," you groan. "It’s a Howler."
The owl drops the red envelope in front of you, and you stare at it like it’s a ticking bomb, the seal already beginning to smoulder at the edges. The entire table seems to fall silent around you, students craning their necks to see who the poor victim of the Howler is.
"Better open it," Harry whispers, though the smirk on his face shows he’s more curious than concerned.
With a resigned sigh, you pick up the Howler and tear it open. Instantly, a deafening voice explodes from the letter, and you wince as your father’s voice booms through the Great Hall.
“Y/N, MY DARLING GIRL, YOU DID IT!! YOU’RE IN GRYFFINDOR! I KNEW IT – YES! I BLOODY KNEW IT! OH, MERLIN, I’M SO PROUD I COULD BURST!” Sirius’s voice is so loud, it rattles the plates on the table, and you can practically hear him bouncing around wherever he is.
“PADFOOT, CALM DOWN-" Remus’s more level voice breaks through, trying to reign in Sirius’s enthusiasm, but it’s no use.
“NO, I WILL NOT CALM DOWN, MOONY! SHE’S A GRYFFINDOR! OUR LITTLE GIRL’S A GRYFFINDOR! JUST LIKE ME! BRAVE, DARING, AND READY TO TAKE ON THE WORLD!”
You sink lower in your seat, your face burning with embarrassment as the whole hall bursts into giggles and whispers. Some students at the other tables are craning their necks to catch a glimpse of you, while others grin knowingly.
“SERIOUSLY, SIRIUS-" Remus’s voice again, more exasperated this time.
“DON’T YOU SERIOUSLY ME, MOONY! THIS IS THE BEST NEWS EVER!” Sirius bellows. You can almost picture him grinning like a madman, his hands in his hair, running around the house in pure excitement. “Y/N, WE’RE THROWING A PARTY WHEN YOU COME HOME! GRYFFINDOR FOREVER!”
There’s a slight rustling sound as Remus takes over, his voice coming through more calmly now. “Y/N, congratulations, sweetheart. We’re both incredibly proud of you, not just for the house you’re in, but for who you are. Remember, it doesn’t matter what house you’re in as long as you stay true to yourself. Now, Sirius, for the last time-”
“GRYFFINDOR!” Sirius screams again, completely ignoring Remus. “WELL, DONE, Y/N!”
Just as the laughter from the Howler starts to die down, you hear another familiar voice booming across the Great Hall, louder than ever. Your heart sinks for Harry’s sake, realizing what’s about to happen.
"AND HARRY POTTER, YOU TOO! GRYFFINDOR! YESSSS! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT, KIDDO!"
It’s Sirius again, his voice back in full force, and now everyone is looking between you and Harry. You shoot him an apologetic glance, but Harry’s grinning despite himself.
Before Sirius’s voice even fades, another loud cheer erupts, this time unmistakably from James Potter. "HARRY! MY BOY! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU I COULD SCREAM – OH WAIT, I AM! GRYFFINDOR PRIDE, BABY! AND Y/N, YOU TOO! THIS IS BLOODY BRILLIANT! GRYFFINDORS FOR LIFE! JUST LIKE US, MATE!" James’s voice is so loud, it feels like the walls are shaking, his excitement palpable through the enchanted letter.
You glance at Harry, who’s now red-faced but laughing at his dad’s over-the-top excitement. "It’s like they’re competing to see who can be louder," Harry mutters, but there’s a fondness in his voice.
Lily’s voice follows immediately after James’s, much calmer but still with a hint of exasperation. "Oh, dear Merlin, please help me,” she sighs, clearly trying to keep the boys in check. "Congratulations, Harry, darling. We’re so proud of you. And you too, Y/N! Now, James, would you please calm down before you give everyone a heart attack?"
"CALM DOWN? NEVER!" James’s voice booms again, undeterred by his wife’s plea. "THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!"
Sirius’s voice joins in again, as if the two of them are having their own conversation through the enchanted letters. "JAMES, I TOLD YOU OUR KIDS WOULD BE IN GRYFFINDOR! WE’VE DONE IT! RAISED THE NEXT GENERATION OF LEGENDS!"
Lily lets out another resigned sigh. "I don’t know why I even try…"
The Howler finally crackles and burns away, leaving behind nothing but a smattering of ash and more laughter from the Gryffindor table. You and Harry exchange wide-eyed looks, both of you shaking your heads as the noise of the hall starts to return to normal.
Harry leans closer, still grinning but obviously overwhelmed. “We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?”
You laugh softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “Not in a million years.”
But as the last echoes of your parents’ voices fade away, the warmth in your chest lingers. Embarrassing or not, they’re proud of both of you – and that thought makes everything feel a little more manageable.
