AN: I don't own the Harry Potter series.

Chapter 5: Ignored

The smallest Potter child, the one who was always sick, had left their family's sight and probably their minds as well. Their family had let them. That probably says something about the Potters as a family, but nobody talked about that, so it wasn't acknowledged.

They knew that something about the entire situation was wrong, but they didn't have anything to compare it to, so they didn't do anything. All they actually knew was that something about them made their family unhappy, and they didn't want their family unhappy, so they started spending more time away from them.

Eventually, they fell into a routine involving staying out of sight and finding small things they can be happy about.

In the morning, when the house elves were starting breakfast, they would wake up and get dressed. Afterwards, they would seek out the house elves and accept whatever advice and knowledge they had to share. Then, they would eat breakfast. They rarely did this with their family, but when they did nobody was very happy. After breakfast was done, their twin had lessons with various tutors for a few hours. Sometimes, when being alone wasn't something they could handle anymore, the sick little child would look through the door to their twin's lessons and pretend they were being taught and praised as well. Once lessons were done, lunch was usually served or maybe Lily would read to their twin for a while. After lunch, lessons for the day were done and their twin was allowed to go into the yard and fly on a broom. They weren't. So, they stayed inside and poked around into whatever rooms weren't locked or warded and pretended that they chose to stay inside and didn't want to be outside with their twin and parents. Eventually, they would get tired of roaming around and go to the library to try to read. Sometimes, one of the house elves who could read helped them. They never knew exactly how long they stayed in the library, trying to feel like they belonged somewhere, but eventually a house elf would pop in with dinner. After dinner, they went to bed and the process repeated.

It was a lonely existence, but they loved their family and recognized they didn't make them happy. And sometimes, it was easier to make them happy than try to make themselves happy. But other times they wanted to march into the dining room and scream, "Why don't I make you happy? My twin makes you happy, and you're all smiling, but I am alone and none of you ever try to make me happy when I try to make you happy! What am I doing wrong?"

They never do.

So, they follow their routine. They get up, and talk with the house elves, and eat, and eavesdrop, and play pretend, and try to read, but it's never enough. Enough would be getting up, talking with their family, eating and smiling and laughing with their parents and twin, learning with their twin, being happy. But they don't get that. They get to play pretend, and talk to their books, and pretend they're the character in the book where there's a family and everyone's happy and nothing is wrong.

Sometimes they stray away from the routine and try to talk to their dad. Maybe they try to talk about how good they're getting at reading or how pretty the garden is, but it's always answered the same way. There may be variation in the individual words, but the message remains the same. "That's great honey, why don't you go play?"

Never praise for figuring things out without any tutors (why didn't you try harder?), never an offer to play pretend with them (what did I do wrong?), just… brushed aside. Like a piece of lint on nice robes.

And it is terrible. That child is lonely, and sad, and so close to just giving up on the concept of family and ignoring their family when their family ignores them.

But then they remember how much worse things could be (why did they read that book?) and they should be grateful for what their family gives them, and keep trying because maybe it will get worse and then what will happen?

It becomes a cycle.

They cry and want to scream, they decide that things could always be worse, they drown their sadness in the happiness of books, and they try again.

And again.

And again.

And again, at being happy and making everyone else happy at the same time.

They can never have both.

But they have so much hope, and they want someone to care, or to sit with them when they have a fever and can't get out of bed.

All they do is try to make everyone around them happy, and if that entails never being around those people then oh well.

And no matter how hard they try to make people happy, no matter how far out of their way they go to make sure everyone else is happier than them, nobody so much as looks at them. Nobody apologizes, or says, "Thank you for trying so hard", or cries with them. They are completely, and totally, ignored. They are alone.

Nobody cares.