Content Warning: Mentions of suicide. The OC is not suicidal, nor does it play a huge part in the story, but her parents did commit suicide.
The First Wizarding War had made an orphan out of Harry Potter. The Second had made an orphan out of Teddy Lupin. Delilah watched him sometimes in the Great Hall when he was still at Hogwarts; he certainly wasn't hard to find, given his preference for bright blue hair. He laughed and joked and pranked and loved. He seemed normal. You would never know that his parents had died a truly tragic death, that the universe had forced yet another child to grow up without ever knowing their parents. It made Delilah jealous, even when she was only eleven years old. She didn't understand how he could do it, appear to outsiders as if everything was perfectly fine in the world.
For the Second Wizarding War had also made an orphan out of Delilah Willows. Unlike Teddy Lupin, no one besides perhaps Professor McGonagall knew this or would even be able to guess it—she was several years younger than Teddy, and had been conceived and born after the war had ended. But it would always be the war that had turned her into an orphan. Her parents, unable to handle the losses they'd suffered and the things they'd seen during the war, had left Delilah when she was just six months old. Except they hadn't just left. No, they'd gone and jumped off the cliff near their cottage, leaving behind a pathetic note and a crying baby, never to be seen again. Their graves were empty, she knew, their bodies never found. It had been three days before Delilah had been found in the house when the mailman had heard her screaming.
They could have at least had the decency to drop her off somewhere, she often thought. The Ministry, or even the bloody neighbors. What if no one had found her?
"Oi, Willows, are you even in there?"
The masculine voice immediately brought her mind back to the Great Hall, bursting with hundreds of voices shouting over each other, excited children and exhausted adults worrying about N.E. . It was utterly overwhelming.
She glanced across the table at Fred Weasley, who was gazing at her expectantly. "I've asked you to pass the gravy three times now."
Wordlessly, she handed it over before glancing back down at her own plate where she'd apparently only been pushing her mashed potatoes around. No one commented; though she was perfectly capable of speaking and even joking, she was far more reserved than most of her fellow Gryffindors.
James Potter, sitting next to Fred, had mentioned something about Teddy finally moving in with his girlfriend. It had sent Delilah back into her head, back to the days when she was often furious at Teddy Lupin, who she'd never spoken to, because she didn't understand why she couldn't be more like him. Of course, he was long gone now, and at sixteen, Delilah had finally resigned herself to the fact that she was always going to feel angry and desolate and lonely and was never going to be Teddy Lupin.
She blew out a puff of breath and reached for her bag underneath the table. It was far too loud and she still had an essay to finish for Care of Magical Creatures on how to handle the different breeds of winged horses. Vivienne Thomas, seated next to her, place a hand on Delilah's arm. "You're not going to finish eating?"
Delilah shook her head, ignoring the frizzy strawberry blonde curl that fell in front of her face. "Not hungry. I'm just going to head to the library."
Vivienne shrugged her thin shoulders. "Alright, see you later then. You know where my chocolate stash is if you get hungry."
Delilah gave a short laugh. Vivienne's chocolate stash was almost legendary to the sixth year Gryffindor girls. Her smile dropped when she realized James had stood up as well. "Are you doing the essay for Hagrid? I still need to finish it too."
She nodded slowly. Besides herself, only James, Roxanne Weasley, and Sean Griffin had decided to continue with Care of Magical Creatures from Gryffindor. Delilah wasn't sure why; it was by far the most interesting and fun class at Hogwarts. What could beat spending a few hours outside learning about animals instead of forcing yourself to stay awake through a droning lecture?
The two of them began walking side by side up to the library. They were sort of friends, she supposed. In the way you were friends with someone you were forced to see every single day and had been occasionally partnered with over the past five years. She wasn't sure they'd ever worked together alone on an assignment that they hadn't been assigned to work together for.
But when he opened his mouth, she realized that this had absolutely nothing to do with an essay.
"So. Quidditch tryouts are this Saturday," he said, looking straight ahead with his hands in his pockets.
"So I heard," she replied flatly.
"I'm captain."
"Yes, oddly enough, I've also heard that considering Fred shouted it the moment you two walked into the Common Room at the start of term. And, you know, the very shiny badge that's always pinned to your robes."
He glanced over at her, smiling proudly. "Why have a badge if no one's meant to see it?"
"How much time have you spent preening and polishing it?"
He avoided the question. Unsurprisingly. Delilah took that to mean that he'd actually spent quite a lot of time on that badge. "I hope you're planning to try out."
She looked up at the ceiling. "You know I'm not."
He picked up speed so that he could turn around and step right in front of her, effectively stopping their progress to the library. He flashed her a dazzling smile. "Whyever not, lovely Willows? You'd get to see me bright and early in the mornings, listen to my charming voice…"
"I already see you every day. And I hear plenty of your voice, thanks. It's not like you ever shut up."
He didn't take offence. Of course not. Riling up James Potter was not an easy task. "We need a chaser. You know that. A good one. One that doesn't argue with me at every single practice."
The Gryffindor Quidditch team was good, no one could deny that. But they'd been plagued by a team of chasers that could never quite figure out how to work together just right. They'd won the cup last year, but Delilah knew that was only because they had an exceptional seeker.
"Stop trying to dazzle me, Potter. It's not happening." She stepped around him and continued walking, though she knew he would follow her.
"Well, if it's not happening then why should I stop trying to dazzle you? You don't sound so sure that you'd be able to resist."
She snorted. James Potter was as fit as they came—tall, defined muscles, beautiful hazel eyes that always sparkled, perfect skin. Delilah reckoned the skin bit annoyed her the most, as her face was covered in freckles deserving of a Weasley along with some bumps and dark spots from acne scarring. She wasn't blind, she'd always known he was fit. But so were plenty of boys at Hogwarts, and none of them were going to convince her to play Quidditch either.
James had seen her flying once in 4th year very early in the morning, tossing a quaffle around. He'd watched her long enough to realize she knew exactly what she was doing, and he'd been bugging her about it ever since.
But flying was just for her. It was a stress reliever, a way to focus her thoughts and forget while her hair tangled around her. And while she loved to watch Quidditch, she certainly had no interest in turning it into her life and having to practice every day like she knew James would want to do.
Also, she wasn't keen on bludgers flying at insane speeds straight towards her face. When she repeated this to him, James laughed. "That's why we have beaters! To keep them away!" It was the same response he always gave her.
"Tell that to the four broken arms you got last year." They'd reached the library, so she turned around to look him straight in the eye. "I will not be trying out on Saturday, Potter. Now if you'll excuse me, I really need to do this essay, and we both know what's going to happen if you keep talking about Quidditch in the library."
She spun around on her heel and made a beeline towards a table near the window. Given that it was still dinner and term had only started two weeks ago, the library was relatively empty.
Except that Potter then sat across from her, shrugging. "What? I have to finish the essay too."