Delila Potter hugged her knees as she stared out the window, watching the scenery pass by.
Not long now, Del. Soon you'll finally be at Hogwarts... She thought, shifting to a better position.
She had grown up away from wizard kind, having been adopted by muggles when she was very young. Just a few years ago, her godfather, Sirius Black, had come and taken her away, and explained some things. He had been on the run from the Ministry, for a crime he didn't commit. That was how she had first heard about Harry Potter. Her brother. Her twin. Sirius had never let her meet him, and had been reluctant to even mention him. Just thinking about her godfather brought tears to her bright green eyes. She clenched them shut and curled up into a protective ball, her black hair falling around her in a protective curtain, until she felt that she wouldn't break out in sobs. He had died protecting Harry. Her godfather, the only family she had really had, murdered because Harry had to go to the Department of Mysteries and then the Order had come to fight the Death Eaters there. Had come to protect the Boy who Lived. And as a result her godfather had died.
She unwrapped her arms from her legs and let them touchdown on the floor. He was on this train. Her brother was on this train. And yet... she didn't want to meet him. He'd had everything she didn't. Fame. Friends. People wanting to protect him. A family. Why hadn't she?
"You're the Potter girl, aren't you?" A voice said, rousing Delila from her thoughts. "The name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. This here is Crabbe and Goyle," the boy said, pointing to the other two students that flanked him. "I wanted to introduce myself. Hope to deter you away from the wrong sort, unlike your brother who mingles with muggle borns and muggle lovers like that Granger girl and Weasley family."
Delila looked up. She narrowed her eyes. How did this boy know who she was? It wasn't like she was famous, like...like Harry Potter. Was she?
"What makes you think he's my brother?" She said coldly, glaring daggers at the blond haired boy-Draco Malfoy. "I grew up distrusting everyone, and I don't see any reason to trust you." She spat, turning and looking out the window. She wasn't declining his friendship, but she wasn't accepting it. She was challenging it. Challenging him to prove to her that she should trust him. It took a lot to prove that to Delila. She took a deep breath and let it out again.
When she looked back out the compartment window, and into the one across from hers, she froze. Her eyes. Her eyes staring back at her from a boy with messy black hair and glasses. Harry Potter. She stiffened, and looked away, hoping he hadn't seen her. Odd. A year ago she would have been up and in his compartment before you could say pumpkin pastries. Funny how some things can change so quickly.
Draco let a faint smile of surprise pass across his lips for a moment as he looked down at Delila.
"Oh, I know that he's your brother," the Slytherin stated, slipping into the compartment and sitting in the seat across from Delila. "You two look exactly alike and both share the Potter name. How could you not be brother and sister." He paused, seeming to think for a moment. "You don't trust me now but believe me when I say this; you will trust me sooner or later." Someone clearing their throat made Draco look up, straight into the face of Harry himself. Delila's twin looked irritated.
"Leave her alone, Malfoy," he said, not even looking over at Delila for a moment. Draco gave an irritating smirk. He stood up, now practically nose to nose with Harry.
"What're you going to do about it?" He taunted, earning a harsh glare from the other boy.
"I'll make you leave," Harry threatened, still not looking over. He could feel everyone around them staring at the two.
Delila looked at the person at the door through her eyelashes. Harry Potter. The famous, self-sacrificing, loved-by-almost-everyone Harry Potter. And now he was fighting her battles for her. She was silent, watching the two boys argue. Then a flash.
Her foster parents giving her up to Sirius Black willingly, happily. Him giving her her wand as a birthday present. Showing her the hand movements for a particularly difficult spell. Her picking up a copy of the daily prophet, and seeing her brother. Riding Buckbeak. Telling her godfather she wanted to join the Order, and him refusing to let her. Her peeking out of a room in 12 Grimauld Place, hoping to catch a glimpse of her long-lost brother but seeing nothing, just 2 girls; one with frizzy brown hair, and another with red hair, and freckles. The night Sirius didn't come home. The visions stopped abruptly, and she was back to reality. It had only lasted a moment, but enough to reignite her anger and jealousy of her twin.
She stood up, locks of black hair falling in front of her face.
"I don't need someone to fight my battles." She said, dangerously calm. She pulled her wand out and flicked it, then stormed out the door, the suitcases floating after her.
Delila found another empty compartment at the other end of the train, and placed her stuff on the luggage rail. Her white ferret, Snowball, squeaked in his cage.
"Sorry Snowball, forgot all about you." She said quietly, unlocking the cage with a flick of her wand. The ferret scurried out and up her arm, coming to rest in her shoulder. She grinned and put her wand in her pocket. As she sat down, she saw that Draco had followed her.
"What do you want?" She glared.
Draco leaned against the frame of the compartment door. He hadn't noticed the ferret Delila had and answered her after a moment. "I decided that even if you don't trust me, I'm going to stick around," he stated, smirking slightly.
Then Delila grinned, remembering something Sirius had told her. "I heard you like ferrets." She smirked, holding her arm out and letting the ferret crawl down it and sniff in Draco's direction. "Heard you had a little, ah, incident a few years back."
The smirk vanished when the Slytherin saw the ferret. "That bloody professor, Mad Eye Moody, turned me into one of those things," he muttered angrily. Straightening up, Draco stepped into the compartment, keeping his eye on the ferret as he shut the door and sat back in the seat, looking across at Delila with a faint air of amusement.
Delila smiled as Snowball ran up her arm and onto her head, Draco watching it with interest. Her smile quickly turned into a frown. Malfoy...wasn't that a last name of one of the Death Eaters that were at the Ministry? Now she remembered. This boy's father was one of the reasons her godfather had died. She opened the compartment door, angrily.
"Out." She ordered, pointing out the door. She didn't want to be anywhere near anyone who had anything to do with that, or anyone related to them. "Out, now." She said, tears forming involuntarily in her eyes. She blinked them back, and turned to face the window. Snowball jumped off her head and into her arms, where she hugged him tightly.
I don't know why I decided to come to Hogwarts in the first place, she thought bitterly. Yes, she was grateful for Dumbledore's offer, and yes she had accepted it. Now she questioned whether she should have. All that was here so far was painful memories. A tear rolled down her nose.
"What is it?" The boy asked quietly.
Delila sniffed, trying to blink the tears away, but failing. Snowball nuzzled up against her. She stiffened when Malfoy asked her what was wrong. "I told you to get out!" She said, fiercely, close to yelling. She wiped the tears from her eyes and pushed him through the compartment door as her ferret ran down her arm and hissed, bearing his fangs as his fur stood on end, clearly conveying his feelings. They weren't happy.
Right before the ferret launched himself at Draco's face, Delila shoved the blond-haired boy out and into the aisle of the train, slamming the compartment door shut behind her, then sliding to the ground and curling up into a ball, shaking slightly, trying to push all her thoughts to one side so she didn't have to think. What had she been thinking, coming here?
Delila took a moment to regain her composure, and looked out the window. It was getting darker, which meant they were get closer. Yay. She sat down, hoping her eyes weren't red. If she walked in there with red puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks she would look like an idiot for sure. She wondered if her brother had worried about looking like an idiot when he first came. She doubted it, what with his fame and all. At least there was one person at Hogwarts she could trust; Dumbledore. She didn't know why she trusted him. She just did.
She looked down at her watch. Nearly time. She should probably put her robes on. She put a now perfectly calm Snowball in his cage, then pulled one of her suitcases down, not bothering to use magic. After rummaging around a bit, she found her robes and grabbed them, before shutting the suitcase and putting it back up on the rail above her head. She looked out the window again, some of her old, childish excitement welling up. She pushed it down. That wasn't who she was anymore. She was different. She'd grown up. She turned and stiffened, seeing her brother.
Delila twisted the robes in her hands. What was he doing here? Why was he looking at her like that? It was strange, seeing her own features on someone else's face, especially her eyes. Her mothers eyes. Sirius had said that there was no colour quite the same shade. She was glad that she had gotten her mothers eyes. Was that why her brother was looking at her like that? Was he thinking the same things? No, she probably just looked like she'd been crying. Stupid of her to let her emotions get the better of her. She was about to ask why he was here, when he stepped in front of her and said "Hey, Delila." She flinched slightly, did everyone know her name? "Hello." She replied, before the silence got too awkward. She looked at her feet, feeling awkward. She looked up when Harry spoke next. "How are you doing?" Harry questioned, clearly feeling as awkward as his sister.
Delila could think of a number of answers. Well, my godfather is dead, my brother is the cause of his death, every time I stop and look around, I'm reminded of that, my brother was the only one who people know or care about out of the two of us, I can't spend a moment alone, and I need to get changed, so not too good, thank you very much. But she didn't want to say that. That would be telling him almost everything about herself, and she barely knew him. "Okay." She said instead, quietly. She sat back down on the seat, and looked out the window. The scenery was nice, exactly as Sirius had described it. Her hands shook slightly at that thought.
"This is about Sirius," Harry said softly, finally realizing what could have made Delila act the way she had.
Delila was silent. Of course it was about Sirius, among other things. She tried not to look at Harry, her brother. Her twin. "I saw it happen. Through a seeing glass we found at 12 Grimauld Place. I saw all of it." She said, quietly, her voice hard. She looked at Harry, her eyes burning, as he took her hands, which she hadn't even noticed were shaking.
"I'm sorry, Delila. I know it must have been hard for you," he murmured gently.
"No, you don't. You don't understand. You have everything! Friends, fame, you're allowed to talk to people! You don't have to worry about who to trust, or what to do to make sure you're not recognised. It was you who Dumbledore made special arrangements for. I was just sent off to some dump called Wool's Orphanage. Everyone forgot about me, and when I was adopted, it wasn't because the parents liked me, it was because their daughter wanted a playmate. Like I was a pet. Just another toy. Sirius found me. He told me about the Wizarding World, but I couldn't be part of it. He told me about you but I couldn't meet you. Even when you came to 12 Grimauld Place I wasn't allowed out of my room to see you. Do you really know how hard it was for me? To know that I had family that I wasn't even allowed to say hello to? Sirius was the only part of the Wizarding World I had. He was like a father to me. You don't understand. You will never understand." She pulled her hands from his grip and stood up, storming to the bathrooms to change.
Delila leaned her forehead against the wall in her stall for a moment to calm herself down. It was covered with graffiti, like so-and-so loves so-and-so, and this person was here this year and stuff like that.
When she was sure she wouldn't snap at anyone that tried to talk to her, she got changed quickly and walked back to her compartment slowly. She couldn't help glancing in Malfoy's compartment, which had two other dumb-looking boys in it as well. She couldn't remember their names. She sped up when she was going past her brothers compartment, but watched it out of the corner of her eye. She reached her compartment and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. Snowball squeaked, and she petted his head as she sat down.
After a few minutes the train stopped, and everyone started getting off. Delila waited a bit for the crowd to die down, before climbing off. She smiled slightly when she saw the Thestral's, they were something familiar, not that she was particularly happy about why she could see them. She patted ones head before hopping in it's carriage. She took out a book and started reading, hoping that no one else would join her.
After a moment, the door to her carriage opened and Draco Malfoy entered. He watched her for a moment, not saying anything. Delila glanced up and glared when he sat down across from her.
Can't some people take a hint? Or at least couldn't this person take a hint. She studied him for a moment, green eyes blazing, then started reading her book again, trying her best to ignore him. At least Harry had tried to be nice. All this boy did was annoy her. She didn't look up when he spoke.
"How is the book?" He asked, looking over her as if searching for some kind of flaw or beautiful detail. Maybe he was looking for both.
"If you even think about annoying me, Malfoy, I will shove you out of this carriage, yes, I'm aware it's moving, and set my ferret on you. Got it?" She said, ignoring his question as she stuck her bookmark in her page and snapped the book shut with a dull thud. She put it back in her pocket; it was small enough to fit inside. Only then did she look up at him. He smiled slightly at her response.
She wasn't sure how she felt. His father played a part in her godfathers death. His father was a death eater. What if he was too? Her eyes drifted to his wrist, which was covered by his robe. That was where the Dark Mark would be. She was tempted for a moment to grab his wrist and pull up the sleeve, but resisted. That would just be awkward if it wasn't there, and if it was...
What are you doing, Delila? Have you changed so much that begin to suspect school kids of being Death Eaters? What's wrong with you? she scolded herself, pulling her eyes away, and looking out the window.
"Is there a particular reason you seem to be looking for something on my arm?" Draco asked, raising one pals eyebrow with a slightly smug expression.
"Yes." Delila replied, feeling no reason to explain. She stared at the scenery, let the slience stretch out. She was about to take her book out again when Malfoy asked her what house she wanted to be in.
"What house are you hoping for, I must ask," he said, turning the smug look into a smile. "Gryffindor, I'd think, considering it's the house your brother is in. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if you got Ravenclaw. You seem to be quite smart, really. Even Hufflepuff, maybe. A bit doubtful on that side of the results though." Draco paused, looking at Delila, waiting for her response. He hadn't mentioned Slytherin, correctly guessing that that was the house she wanted to hear about least of all, let alone be sorted into it. Nobody wanted Slytherin, except for those pureblooded wizarding families that were rather cunning.
She honestly wasn't sure which she wanted. She didn't feel fit for any. She didn't consider herself brave nor smart, loyal or cunning. She stiffened when the blond haired boy across from her said she would most likely be in Gryffindor, because of her brother.
"I am not my brother." She said coldly. "If you're done with your evaluation, I don't really care what house I'm in, except maybe Slytherin. I never, ever want to be in that house. I suppose you don't have to be a Ravenclaw to figure out why." She added, looking him in the eyes. They were an odd grey. She didn't know you could get that eye colour. She turned and looked out the window for a moment, but she couldn't keep her mind from drifting.
It was quite a warm night, so why was this boy covering up his arms? Did he have some sort of skin disease? She snorted to herself; there were spells for skin disease. She turned back to him.
"Give me your arm. Your right arm." She half ordered, half asked, holding her hand out. She glared at him. "Now."
Draco clearly didn't have a choice on the matter, that much was obvious. He stared at Delila for a moment, as if knowing what would come if he did give her his arm. He stayed silent, not doing anything for a long moment, looking down at his robes, his covered arms.
Eventually, Draco looked back up at Delila and without speaking, thrust out his right arm, staring her in the face the whole time, waiting for her reaction, waiting for distrust to grow.
"Here. Look at it all you want," he replied quietly. "Go ahead."
She took his arm and hesitated a moment. His voice was hard, unlike anyway he had spoken to her before, considering his rivalry with her brother. Her fingers curled around the fabric and pulled it back.
Delila flinched slightly at what she saw. A black skull with a snake twisting out of it. A dark mark. She had been right. Her expression was blank, but her eyes held many different emotions. Satisfaction, surprise, anger, sadness, distrust. But there was no fear. She shoved his arm away like it was poisonous, not sure what else to do. She stared at him for a moment, shaking her head slightly.
"Why? Why would you do that? Are you crazy? Joining Voldemort?!" She demanded. "And yeah, I dare speak his name. Get over it." She added. Every time someone who wasn't a Death Eater said Voldemort, Death Eaters were all gasping and saying 'You dare speak his name?' dramatically. It was a bit annoying, really.
She turned and stared out the window, subconsciously wiping her hand on her robes. She realised she was doing it and made herself stop. Her fist clenched, but other than that she kept her emotions in check.
Draco pulled his arm back, pulling the sleeve down over his arm roughly, not looking at Delila as she spoke.
"Say his name all you want," he muttered coldly. "Like I care. You think I wanted this, Delila?" He asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. A cold, hard whisper. "Maybe I wanted it at first, to join my parents and have a chance at the glory they seemed to have. Well, you know what? I was wrong. It's not glorious. Not even praising. It's horrible. This mark on my arm. People looking at me with the same look you've got now. That look like I'm suddenly going to whip out my wand and blast curses in every direction." His voice was shaking and he was trying to keep it level, failing at the attempts. "So go ahead, say Voldemort's name all you want. Say Tom Riddle for all I care. You don't trust me, you never did and you sure as bloody hell won't now. Why do you think I keep the sleeves of my robes down? To hide that mark from prying eyes. And now you've gone and found it anyway. I hope you're happy. I know I am." He finished on a bitter note, glaring out the window like he could set the whole grounds on fire with just his look.
Underneath the glare, the Potter girl could see there was part of him that was vulnerable, vulnerable and already having gave up.
Delila hesitated before answering, looking down at her hands. When she looked up, her voice was cold and firm, with a hint of pity. But not much.
"Your father lead a group of Death Eaters to take some stupid prophecy and kill my brothers friends, maybe even my brother, I don't know." She resisted the urge to say that he should know. That would be just cruel.
"The Order went to protect them. Sirius promised he'd be fine." Her voice lost the pity, and she looked him in the eyes. The pity was replaced by anger. "He lied. He was murdered by his own cousin. Your mothers sister. Your aunt. They've murdered plenty of muggles and wizards alike. They will continue to do so. How is there any glory at all in that, Malfoy? How is that praising? What kind of sick, deranged mind would think that? Your family murdered the only part of the damn wizarding world I had, so forgive me if I goddam distrust you! Trust is hard for me to give anyone. If you can make me trust you now, after I know you followed your parents willingly, even if it was only at first, then I will be very surprised. I hope to god I'm not in Slytherin so I don't have to wonder who else at Hogwarts decided to get a bloody Dark Mark tattooed on their arm."
She stood, and opened the door, hanging onto the side, and climbed around to the front. She didn't want to look at him. She sat down on a ledge and looked around. She caught a flash of her brother as the carriage past her, and ripped her eyes away. She closed them, letting the wind tousle her hair as the castle drew closer.