A/N: For The Guys on Twitter :)
.: Set at the end of the 7th Book, before the 19 Years Later :.
Lots of OC to begin with...and Durmstrang. Bare with it :)
Delilah
Voldemort has fallen.
No.
Your mother is dead.
Oh god no.
We're all being sent to Azkaban, and this is my final letter to you. Once you're out of school, get underground, hide at all costs. We can't meet up soon, if ever…it's too dangerous. Hide for a while, take care of your sister and don't let anyone find out who you really are. I know you'll be okay.
Rodulphus Lestrange.
He knows we'll be okay? This man called himself our father, but was never around and never knew of our real lineage? Sure, he totally knows that we'll be okay.
I clutched the letter with trembling hands, scanning it several times over.
Maybe there was a mistake? Had I missed something? I didn't even know they were at war…
How could I not know…they were always at war.
Harry Potter.
That stupid bastard…
"Lilah…you coming? We're going to be late," Anya was my best friend. We'd been together throughout our schooling; in the same house, we'd chosen the same path and we'd been put in the same dormitory.
"I'm…not feeling too well today…" I whispered, taking a deep breath.
This wasn't good. I couldn't lose it, not in front of her. Not in front of anybody.
"We've got Dark Potions first….come on!" I blinked furiously, silently urging the water in my eyes to evaporate.
Stalling for time, I folded the note carefully and stored it in the pocket of my vest. The owl that had brought the letter was unfamiliar, but I stroked it anyway and thanked it. As soon as I had gathered the self-control to turn without bursting into tears, I met Anya's concerned eyes.
"Delilah…are you seriously ill?"
"No. I'm fine now." I lied, picking up my books.
We hurried downstairs into the common room – we were certainly late now. Instead of it being deserted, it was full of students.
"What's going on?" I asked one of the sixth years.
"Special announcement in the hall this morning…we're not allowed down until nine fifteen," the girl said, staring up at me.
"What…?" Anya murmured, plopping herself onto a blue throne.
I swept a mass of dark ringlets from my face – I hated my hair so much. Even before I lowered my hand, the hair started to return to its original place, weighed down by sweat. The room was so bloody hot - someone had messed with the heat control, and my dark uniform attracted the heat like a troll attracted flies. I loosened my dark blue tie and unbuttoned my black vest, fanning myself with the collar of my white shirt. God it was hot.
"I swear, that's the only crappy part about being a Dark Path student," I looked up at the familiar voice. "The undesirable heat,"
I managed a smile, but inside it felt like a thousand Grindylow's were trying to drag my throat into the depths of my stomach. "Isi,"
"Well that's not nice. For the last time, that's not my name, nor will I ever respond to it," he grumbled and I put on my most apologetic face.
"I'm sorry Isi,"
He frowned and turned away, aiming for another student. When he reached the student, he looked back at me.
"S'cuse me," he spoke loudly as he tapped the student on the shoulder.
The blonde girl turned and raised her eyebrows at him.
"Do you know my name?" his voice grew louder.
The girl nodded curtly.
"Can you tell this lady what it is?" he grinned charmingly. "Please,"
"His name is Isidor. Get over it," she retorted, glaring at me, before returning to her friends.
That's another to add to my hit list…
Our little game had gone on the whole year, but Isidor didn't really mind. He was well built, as all the boys at Durmstrang were, with well toned muscles that bulged slightly under his uniform. His hair, usually short, hung below his ears, his fringe drooping messily over his eyes.
"You should ask him out!" Anya whispered into my ear.
This question had been rephrased into witty euphemisms thought the year – I was surprised at how plainly she put it this time. I shot her the worst look I could muster. We weren't right for each other – we were just friends.
"Attention!" a voice called, and every student stopped talking, turning towards the one who spoke.
Professor Lazar stood in the door to the common room. His usual glare was replaced with bright eyes and a wide grin.
"You may now proceed to the Dining Hall. Hurry," in a flash he was gone, hurrying down the hall to the stairs.
The dining hall was on the first floor. Two houses lived on the second floor, and the sixth and seventh year students were located on the third floor. This meant chaos at mealtimes - all at once, over half the school had to try and get down three staircases.
Isidor, Anya and I hung to the side, allowing others to pass. When most of it had cleared, we started our way down. The second floor was almost deserted, with a few stragglers from the two houses hurrying to catch up with their friends.
"Volki pride!" Isidor shouted, and the young boy with a blue vest looked up.
We held up our dark blue ties, our old house colour. The boy grinned and continued down the stairs.
"The Volki this year are so lame," Anya complained, resituating her tie so it was straight.
Isi hummed in agreement. "I remember the shout wars that we used to play throughout the school. Third year was so awesome,"
"Shout wars died at the end of fifth. Nobody seemed to pick it back up after we left the house," Anya said sombrely.
My eyes prickled with tears at the word 'died'. God damn it, who am I today? Using my hair as an excuse to touch my face, I subtly wiped my eyes.
"I think we should start another one, just for fun," Anya grinned as we stepped into the dining hall.
On a normal morning, there were two rooms, one for the juniors and one for the seniors with three tables in each room. Today, the room divider and tables were gone, and the students were all standing, facing the long table that stretched across the back wall. The teachers all stood in their places, wide grins plastered on their faces that could be seen from the opposite side of the room.
Two more students entered the hall behind us before the Headmaster spoke.
"The Dark Lord is dead,"
Four seconds. That was all it took for the crowd to burst into cries of happiness. The headmaster allowed the mass of students to carry on before calling them to attention. The response was immediate, though the grins could not be wiped from their faces.
"Due to the events that have taken place and the losses undergone, I feel that the school should postpone all upcoming exams. There will be no classes for the following week," The silence continued, but the atmosphere in the room brightened even more so.
The Headmaster continued, "This week will be used to pay respects to those who have fallen at the Dark Lord's hand. Your families have been informed, and those who wish to join us will do so in the next couple of days, although there are many who are already here."
The Headmaster waved his hand and the wall behind him turned transparent. Hundreds of parents and siblings were sitting or standing in the courtyard. Several students shifted with delight. I bit my lower lip. This was going to be awkward.
A/N: So most of Durmstrang was made up by me, obviously there is little information on it. Volki is the Russian word for Wolf, just so you know.