Warning: Keeping in line with the previous chapter, any sections that may contain mental health triggers (amnesia, insanity and suicidal thoughts) have been marked with an *. Please, proceed with care. I feel like the content in this chapter isn't as heavy as in the previous one, and you should be alright but this is a very personal matter, so please be aware of your sensibilities.

As previously stated, you can skip the parts marked with an * and PM me about them, I can provide you with a resume of what happens.


Hogwarts, December 18th, 2013

It's their last lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts before the holidays, and Harry is worried. He has been dreading this class for weeks now, and yet he knows that it can't be stopped. And it has to be him.

He must be here for this. He must be here if he is to keep Delphini safe.

After the war, the curriculum had been thoroughly reviewed. The students among these walls had seen too much, suffered too much, there was a coat of grief to most of them for years. There still is to some. There were deep fears firmly rooted in their minds, all of them far too real to be called irrational, and Boggarts became a most terrible thing.

Boggarts were no longer things that third years could handle and laugh at. Boggarts seldom took the shape of spiders and clowns in those years. They turned into people. Death Eaters that had stormed the castle that day, witches and wizards that had stormed homes and taken parents, uncles, aunts, cousins. Dead people. Family that had stood on the other side of the barricade. Family gone; family fought. The first lesson on Boggarts after the war had been traumatic to say the least.

Boggarts are now part of sixth year curriculum, and Harry figures he'll handle this the same way Remus handled it for him. He'll step in front of Delphini, he'll dally and divert and make sure, absolute sure, that Delphini gets to confront a Boggart alone in a room with no one else but him.

For even though he does not know what she fears the most, he is pretty sure that there is a human shape to it, one that neither would like exposed.

X

Delphini does not know, with certainty, what the Boggart will show her, but it will be someone, she knows. It will be family, one way or another, dead or alive, menacing anyway, and she has not a clue about how to make that silly. About how on earth can the death of someone she loves be made funny. About how on earth can the return of Lord Voldemort be made ridiculous. How do you turn the fear of your own blood into something comical? How do you laugh about the dark essence to your very core?

She knows the theory to this. She has read about Boggarts and listened carefully to the words of Professor Potter, or tried to, all along wishing that there was a way to send a Boggart into hiding even before it changes shape. Wishing for a way to keep it in the cabinet, shapeless and forgotten. Wishing for a way to deny its existence.

She reaches out for the minds of her peers, and her resolve to somehow dodge this class and face the Boggart on her own, later, only hardens. She is going home soon enough; surely there are a couple of Boggarts inside the abandoned wing of the manor.

She can hear the other students getting up. Wood dragging on stone. Steps. Excited chatter as they line up in front of the cabinet, eager and willing, even if concerned.

Delphini has to force her body to behave. It stands and walks steadily to the end of the line, nowhere near being keen to shine, to stand at the front and go first. Her deepest fear is not something she wants shown to the world.

Her friends are watching her, concern etched on their faces. Freya asks her something that her mind does not register and to which her body does not react. Potter is stealing glances towards her, fear all too evident in his green eyes. Green like hers, and so unlike them all the same. Haunted by different fears that just happen to take the same shape.

She can already see it in her mind. The picture is so vivid that she refrains from blinking out of fear to see it come true when her eyes open again. Father will step out of that cabinet and talk to her in Parseltongue. Father will tell her that he is back, and she will be the worst of daughters and scream in terror, hex him, curse him with all her might. She will be the most faithless of his servants.

The fear grows inside of her, while she remains frozen in place, completely oblivious to the almost cheerful energy of the line ahead of her, completely oblivious to the words of Professor Potter. She struggles to keep her façade together, feeling it crack and fall in tiny pieces unseen to the world. Struggling to keep her eyes green and her hands from clenching shut, even though she would welcome the pain of nails digging into her palms. For her pain is real and her fear is not. Yet.

Except her fear is pooling inside her chest, gathering in a dark pond of murky, thick water, taking over her mind, drowning her thoughts and leaving nothing but mere figments of sanity clinging to the inner walls of her skull. And slipping.

She can see it. She sees it with such clarity that it clouds everything else. Lord Voldemort is going to come out of that cabinet. No, Father is.

A voice breaks through the fog in her mind and green eyes, not red, find hers. The voice that goes with those eyes, though her mind struggles to place it, comes to her rescue.

"Miss Lestrange, are you alright? You look awfully pale," the voice says, as her brain makes the connection and finally sees through the fog. She sees Potter approaching her carefully, sideways, like one might a cornered animal, only to whisper in her ear, so very quietly, so surely, so soothingly, so secretly, just between the two of them. "Delphini, you can leave if you want. We'll do this another time."

She takes the cue and swiftly asks to be allowed a word with Madam Pomfrey. Freya and Syrianna offer to go with her, pleading with their eyes to be allowed to help, but she shakes her head and lowers her eyes, not wanting to share her pain. Radagast tells her not to worry about her things, he'll take them later, and she manages a kind nod, though not a thank you.

X

Harry watches Delphini leave his classroom. Hair and robes waving behind her; a physical cloak of darkness revealing the abyss that haunts her. He catches a glimpse of her face as she slightly turns to close the door, and the void in her haunted green eyes sucks him in. There's an unmeasurable vastness to her sorrow. A dark undercurrent that would remain invisible if not for its effect, sucking the girl in, dragging her down, drowning her slowly, filling her lungs with something that's not air.

He wonders. He wonders if the abyss in her eyes has been there all along. He wonders if the Stone has been feeding it. He wonders if he has been too busy denying this girl's nature, if he has been building a screen through which to see her all these years.

He has seen her darkness. He has seen her ruthlessness. He knows her nature. And he knows it is not so.

For Delphini has left the room and yet her presence lingers. Not in an ominous way, but in the concerned looks that her friends exchange, in the words of worry they whisper to one another. In their requests to be given leave to help her.

Friends. Her father never had them. She does. And they will keep her out of the abyss. He doesn't let them leave, though. Harry knows that Delphini wants to be alone, needs to be alone for a moment. She will need her friends, yes, but later.

The moment he dismisses his class, even before his students can leave, Harry sets out to find her. His worry driving him, tugging his heart towards her. Yes, she will need her friends, and she will not need him, let alone want him near her, but he has to know. He must be there to keep her safe.

Even from herself.

He is barely out of the room when Poppy traps him against a wall, her eyes searing, the two of them locked in a staring contest in front of a small crowd of befuddled students. He loses. He looks up from Poppy's eyes to see four Slytherin students dashing down the hallway, one too many satchels to them, then looks back down with a clear look of annoyance.

"You were just teaching the Boggart lesson, weren't you? What was hers? What did she see that left her in such a state?" Poppy fires question after question, and Harry's brain takes a moment to catch up.

Delphini is in the Hospital Wing. She actually went there. How bad is this?

"M-madam Pom-pomfrey," he manages to stammer out, his entire plan turned upside down, "yes, I was teaching them about Boggarts, but Delphini didn't see hers. The Boggart wasn't even out of the cabinet when she left."

"Oh, really?" And Poppy's expression changes from surprised to extremely concerned with such speed that Harry can't help but gulp audibly.

It is bad.

"She actually went looking for you?" Because that bothers him, to a degree he never thought it would. It doesn't feel like Delphini to ask for help, let alone for Madam Pomfrey's. It makes everything much worse, somehow.

"No, not really. She more or less wandered into the Hospital Wing, completely absentminded. I guided her to a bed and she didn't fuss. She hasn't said a word, actually. Nor has she moved."

"Leave it to me. Stall her friends for a while, will you?"

He doesn't wait for a nod or a word. He doesn't dwell on whether or not Delphini's friends will even think of looking for her in the Hospital Wing. Harry asks the question and is on the move in the same second.

Later, he won't remember the route he took to the infirmary, or the people he crossed paths with. He'll only remember the sight that greeted him once he had pushed the heavy tall door and there was only one single thing worth looking at in the entire room. Even in her despair, she took over the space, a focal point no one could hope to miss.

A graceful creature wrapped around itself on a narrow bed, chin to knees and arms locked around legs. Feet clad in varnished shoes peeking from under the hem of black robes. Pale hands run through by blue veins tightly clasping one another. A mane of perfectly set curls tumbling down the shape of the perfectly still creature, looking utterly lost. Broken even. And yet commanding the attention of the room still, as if light itself were concentrated around her, as if she had found a way to gather it. A thousand-miles-stare to green eyes that fail to see him.

It's only when Harry shuts the door behind him that Delphini springs to life. She is not alarmed, just alert. She doesn't get up, she doesn't even reach for her wand, but her body language is clear.

This is a witch on the verge of aggression, being held back only by a wilful mind that knows better. She won't lunge for him, they both know it. Though that knowledge doesn't stop any of them from fearing it.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Delphini. Miss Lestrange. I'm sorry." He feels compelled to correct his addressing of her the second he says it. He knows she does not like how familiar he can be, and this is uneasy ground for the both of them.

"I am not alright, obviously," she replies, with the edge of aggression sharpening her tongue and irritation storming in her eyes, "not that it concerns you, Professor Potter."

And if there ever were any doubts that this girl was raised by Malfoy, something grey between a little sister and a daughter to Draco, the amount of scorn embedded into the name Potter falling out of her lips would be enough to erase them all.

"Your education concerns me," he says, putting every ounce of patience he possesses into his words, "and I will give you the chance to face a Boggart on your own terms. Just the two of us."

"Facing a Boggart on my terms does not include you." Her anger simmers just beneath her voice, looking for a way out.

"Miss Lestrange, Boggarts are part of your curriculum this year-"

"And I will not face one in a classroom filled with people, nor in an office with you. I'll do so alone, when I chose to do so. Fail me." Delphini is quick to cut him off, reigning in her anger, but failing to keep a note of fear from permeating her voice.

She is all defiance, Harry realizes. She is terrified and determined to fight her way through the terror. She has no intention of sharing the sight of her greatest fear with anyone, him least of all people.

Still, Harry approaches her, his hands in plain sight alongside his body. He could swear Delphini is hissing, probably cursing him in Parseltongue without even realizing it. He isn't a Parselmouth anymore, and he rather likes the fact that he cannot understand her just now.

"I will provide you with a safe place, soundproof it, and never talk of whatever happens-"

Delphini uncoils, sitting up straight in the bed, her hands splaying on the covers as she turns and her feet touch the floor. She stands, regal and tall, and then Harry watches in wonder as her muscles tense up once more, ready to lunge again. Her Patronus obvious, lingering just under her skin.

"I said no. Fail me, give me extra homework for the rest of the year, single me out and push my buttons, I don't care. I will not have you there." The aggression in her is gone, the unbalance caused by fear is absent as well. Delphini's voice is a perfectly poised, composed thing now, and she is all the more dangerous for it.

"Every other student in this school has to face a Boggart, Miss Black." He lets his tongue slip and immediately regrets it. She looks more and more like her mother these days, and Lestrange has been nothing but a scam from the beginning. But such slips are dangerous, should anyone hear them.

"But I am not quite like the other students, am I?" She asks, her head tilting to the side, the gesture walking a fine line between endearing and menacing. Delphini knows that she has won, and she gives him a coy smile, unapologetic in her triumph. "And for that, I will be the exception, will I not?"

Harry accepts defeat. This girl is all sharp edges today, all rocks enduring the beating of the waves. She does not need him, she does not want him. She needs her friends. She won't tell them a word, of that he is certain, but they will soften her.

So he leaves the room and starts walking away from the door, crossing paths with four Slytherin students as he leaves the wing. And knowing perfectly well that she will be better for it all. Better with her friends. Better with Teddy, once he finds him. Better without him, at least for now.

X

Hogwarts, December 23rd, 2013

Classes are over, and the entire castle is submerged in a festive atmosphere. Most of the students have chosen to stay for the holidays and they have precisely nothing to do until Christmas. Much to Filch's dismay, a great number prefers to spend the days roaming the castle grounds, despite the snow, and then return at sundown, mudding up the place.

Delphini spends some time with Teddy, who spends most of the time worrying about his grandmother or daydreaming about Victoire, but chooses to be with her friends more often than not. They take her mind off the usual ruminations, and that helps her find her serenity.

No one touches on the subject of the Boggart. Slytherins through and through, they do not pry into each other's feelings unless bid to do so. She says nothing, so they do not ask.

They are happily lounging on the sofas and armchairs closest to the elaborate fireplace of their Common Room, hot beverages in hand. Delphini finds herself naturally taking seats by Radagast's side, but that too goes unmentioned. She is curled up in a corner, Radagast sprawling on the other. Freya has chosen the floor, sitting with her head against one of her twin's legs, while Syrianna is perched up, cross-legged on an armchair, book in hand. Sigmund has decided that he does not care about propriety past midnight, so his legs are tossed over one armchair's rest and his head leaning over the other, a mug of tea dangling from his fingers, mere inches off the floor.

The room empties slowly, the murmur of conversation dying down, the sconces putting themselves out as they become unnecessary, the green orbs dwindling down, accentuating the flickering of the flames against the walls and the mellow light from the water. Sigmund eventually falls asleep and his mug breaks the silence with a sonorous crash, causing Syrianna to drop her book. They laugh quietly, and Delphini effortlessly points her wand at the broken mug to fix it without saying a word. Then, they decide it's late enough, and lazily get up, stretching their bones and muscles back into place.

Delphini braids her hair into two loose plaits, puts on a warm pyjama and draws her curtains, bidding goodnight to the other girls as she blows her candle out. She does not sleep, though. She sits cosily amidst pillows and quilts, reading by wand light. When Darkie croaks his displeasure at the light, she runs her long fingers over his feathers, soothing the bird.

Once everyone else is sound asleep, Delphini emerges from her green cocoon, bare feet quietly padding on the thick, fleecy rugs that surround the beds. She changes into a simple shirt and skirt, and braids her hair anew, pulling it in one thick braid over her shoulder. She ponders shoes for a minute, then decides against them. She likes to be soothed by the cold, and the task that awaits her requires it.

Though, on second thought, she will surely end up outside in the snow, so she shrinks her boots and a pair of socks and pockets them, as well as her gloves. She does not bother with scarf or cloak, not even with a proper jumper.

She has a visit to pay. A matter to settle.

She manages to leave the dungeon unnoticed, and quickly makes her way up to the Astronomy Tower.

The Bloody Baron is not impressed with her prolonged absence. She hears him before she can see him, just as she opens the door to the very top of the tower.

"It has been a while, Miss Black. Did you forget your way about the castle?"

"I beg your pardon, sir," she replies, with a pleasant smile on her lips, turning her wide green eyes to the silvery ghost, seeing stars through him, "and I am sorry that it has been so very long." She switches to Parseltongue naturally, and the Baron follows suit.

"There has been quite a lot going on, I can understand your absence."

The Bloody Baron is glad that the Hogwarts champion is a Slytherin, and gladder that Travers has won the first task. He has been cheering him on in his own solemn way. He is not at all surprised that Delphini had something to do with it, but he admits to resenting the new rules, thinking of her as a far better embodiment of their House's prowess.

Delphini stands a little prouder at that, but immediately shivers at the notion of competing, and her mind drifts from reality for a second. She still has nightmares about competing in the Tournament and finding her father at the end. Not so often anymore, but the creepy cold fingers still linger in her mind, twisting the strings of her dreams every now and then.

When her eyes focus again, she finds the Baron observing her with keen interest; some thought she cannot reach hiding behind his translucent silver eyes. She wonders if the Baron knows of the true extent of just what, precisely, has been going on in what concerns her. He couldn't, or he shouldn't', for he cannot leave the castle. He could never be privy to the Dark Lord or his movement.

But Lord Voldemort had been to the castle in his last days, trying to assure himself of the safety of the last pieces of his soul. He had never left, but maybe, just maybe, he had a moment to cross paths with the Baron, who had once been an acquaintance as familiar to him as he is to her now.

"Did Lord Voldemort speak to you the day of the battle?" She asks, straight to the point.

Delphini watches the silvery figure chuckle mid-air, the chains rattling on the stone floor. She also realizes just how very foolish it was to come here without shoes. The cold wind soothes her, the nearly frozen feet do not, and so she leans against the wooden door, returns her boots and socks to their normal size and sets about putting them on without falling down as the Baron talks.

"No, young lady, your father did not speak to me on that day," the Baron replies, giving her a knowing look.

Delphini is thankful that she does not have to beat around the bush with him. She nods, prompting him to carry on.

"That being said, we all knew he was back. His magic sang with anger the second he came into the castle grounds, and a few of us had to scurry off his path once he was inside. We heard nothing of him until the battle started, and you know what happened then."

"I knew it was a slim chance, but I had to ask," Delphini says, letting her shoulders drop ever so slightly. "I thank you for your time, sir." She does not move to leave, wondering if she should speak of what truly troubles her, of what kept her away.

"You did not come here for this short exchange, I know," the Baron states, approaching her and then extending an immaterial hand, inviting her to walk with him to the edge of the tower, where he starts talking once more, "I've met my fair share of conflicted Slytherins. Our greatness often comes at the expense of the disgrace of others. I can see the greatness in you, Miss Black."

She nearly flinches at the thought of whose disgrace she'll bring forth. Her family's? Potter and Granger's? Andromeda's?

"You have your father's eyes, but you are not like him. You have your mother's looks, but you are not the same either. You have many other things of them in you, and none of them make you them. I see the greatness, Miss Black, but never the urge to destroy your parents had. I do not see the disgrace of others, and I did see it in both your parents, including their own."

She has no answer to offer him. They haven't yet come up with words that could convey her relief, her strange sense of happiness just now. She curtsies to the Baron, bidding him farewell, and walks back inside.

X

Walking down the stairs, though not to the dungeons, Delphini makes up her mind. She keeps half her mind alert to what surrounds her, warding off any possibility of being caught, but the other half is allowed to run free, in turmoil.

She knows exactly why she is so afraid of the return of her father that a Boggart would turn into him. Because she has the means, because there is a way for her to make it happen. For there is a stone, a black jewel left in the depths of the castle, that might prove to be his way back.

That is her true task tonight. Pushed on by the weird joy the Baron's words brought her, she decides to deal with her fear. Even if not in Boggart shape.

She quietly makes her way to the Chamber, caressing the Basilisk's skull as she passes it by. It is the exact same mess that she left months ago, and she takes a moment to set things to rights.

Broken furniture is fixed and returned to its proper place. A red rose is recovered from the water and put back into a box of worthless little treasures. The Basilisk's bones are put back in order, vertebrae and ribs back where they first lay. The books are levitated back to the shelves and the sconces are home to orbs of light again. Only the scorching on the walls remains.

Delphini then puts her wand away and gently picks up the Resurrection Stone from the floor. She feels the magic within it stir, and takes great care to not spin it three times inadvertently, since she cannot stop herself from thinking of her parents.

She has decided not to call them forth, ever again. She knows not if the wraiths they've become can hold memories. And she does not know what would be more painful: going through it all again or facing the disappointment in their eyes. What remains beyond the Veil is quintessential, the very core of them and of their deepest wishes. Mother's memories are a better way, they are whole in a way, and the irony of it does not escape her.

Truth be told, she would love nothing more than to throw the Stone into the depths of the Black Lake. Or to take a broomstick high over the Northern Sea and drop it into the clamouring waves.

She will do neither. She will keep the Resurrection Stone in a safe place, for Scorpius may need it. Draco might want it. There may come a day, and in a corner of her mind she already knows that it will, when this Stone will be the only way for Scorpius to have a mother, for Draco to keep his wife. For her to keep the two of them whole.

Delphini wraps the Stone in a piece of Conjured cloth and leaves the Chamber, the sound of water chasing her until she orders the great doors to close. The hardest part is done, her choice is made. She has decided to sever this link to her parents, once and for all.

She is tired now, the late night is taking its toll on her, but the weird happiness cheers her on from the inside, and she pushes on, forward, through the sleeping castle and into the snow outside.

She makes sure to put some distance between her and the school, then spreads her arms open wide and lets the harsh wind envelop her, yanking at her clothes, snapping her braid like a whip, destroying it slowly, until her hair is a black mess whirling about her. She laughs, listening to the giddy sound get lost in the roar of the wind.

It's too cold to be outside without a proper cloak, and her lungs hurt with every gulp of air that she takes, but she simply does not care. Time has passed and nothing has happened, she watched the calendar go by and nothing happened, so she lets herself rejoice.

Then she gathers herself once more and nearly trots towards the tree line, casting an orb to light her way through the trees, winding and winding into the belly of the Forbidden Forest, into a clearing lit by the moon and swept by the wind.

She leaves the Resurrection Stone on the grave of her parents, under the flat stone, still wrapped in the cloth, in a hole she digs with her own fingers, feeling the though, cold ground fight her bare hands. She will not use her magic for this, not with the remains of her parents so near to an object made to bring people back. There are no tears to her, she isn't letting go of anything, she never had them in the first place. There's only a serene resolve to bury her fear, bury her nightmares. There's only the certainty that the Stone will be safe here, for when Scorpius needs it.

If Scorpius needs it, her mind hypocritically corrects.

She makes sure everything looks the same. The ground does not look like it has been disturbed, the slab of stone is replaced precisely where it has been for fifteen years. No one will ever think of what is hidden between it and the ashes of her parents. And isn't this better? To leave such a thing in a place only those who know what to look for can find?

X

Yule Ball, December 25th, 2013

The Great Hall is alight in festive tones, turned ballroom for the night. Twelve absurdly large Christmas trees line the walls, hundreds of fairies chirping in their branches, illuminating them in white and pale shades of blue. There are two rampant unicorns sculpted out of ice watching over the entrance, glistening and perfectly see-through, though not melting. The enchanted ceiling sparks in a clear night sky, crawling with stars.

Delphini walks inside the Great Hall, on Radagast's hand, and the effect is immediate, rippling through the assembly already gathered. She stands proud, a willowy beauty in all her glory, a dark creature exuding magic and not regretting it one bit.

Her hair is gathered in a low braided chignon at the base of her neck, with only a couple of perfectly and precisely let loose curls framing her face, touching at her shoulders. The Pleaides comb steadily in place, shining with her movements, the emeralds sparkling, catching eyes all across the room. People stare, quite obliviously, and she delights in the thoughts that reach her. Her dress is an elegant concoction in black velvet, with a high collar that accentuates the length of her neck, and long sleeves that drip to the floor. The skirt moves gracefully with her measured steps, a short tail dragging behind her, pooling when she stills, drawing attention for merely a second, before the eyes climb her figure to find an utterly bare back, from neck to waist. Resting on her velvet covered chest lie the black diamonds that make up the constellation she was named for, their spark matched only by that of her eyes.

She exudes darkness, there's an almost menacing aura to her tonight, but she holds back nothing. She has decided to own her dark nature, and she will no longer keep it from showing. She keeps her façade, her veneer is not cracked, but there are much darker shades to the varnish that she last applied. She will not apologize for what she is; she will not hide behind the cloying sweetness of someone she is not.

She is poisoned wine, not a fresh fruity juice. She is of the raging wind of dark cold winter, not of the sunny summer breeze that blows kisses over the meadows.

The thoughts that reach her mind speak of that as well, but the vast majority are about her beauty and her looks. About the striking pair that she and Radagast make. For once, her presence obfuscates the rumours about her family, More scornful minds, riddled with a good share of envy, make snarky remarks about what a perfectly arranged match theirs would be, about how the purists among their kind would cherish such a union.

Radagast had been so shy about it, clumsily trying to be alone with her for just a little while, half convinced that Silverius had already asked her. She had seen it in his mind, all those thoughts making her blush in a way he found beautiful. He had finally succeeded in catching her alone in the library, and though the conversation felt a little odd, it was simply right for them to go to the Ball together.

Everyone notices how happy they are around each other, how utterly unaware of the crowd around them they are. They are not just the most gorgeous pair in the Great Hall, there's an elegance to them that continuously draws the eye, an ease to their dancing, the way their black garments flow with their movements. They are commanding in a way, and not even the champions can rob them of attention as they open the dancefloor.

She shakes all thoughts off her mind, including her own. They are young and pretty, the night is but a child, and life is full of promise. Delphini laughs freely in Radagast's arms, dancing and twirling under his hands, absolutely carefree if only for a few of hours.

They go for a walk once they tire of dancing, Summoning their winter cloaks and gloves to their hands as they step into the cloister. Everything outside looks blueish white because of the snow that has fallen for a week straight. Everything is also nearly shapeless, like this ease between them. Their silence as they walk is not awkward, but comforting. This nameless thing between them encases them in a bubble of their own.

Radagast is the one to break the silence, tentatively reaching for one of her gloved hands.

"The other day, after DADA," he begins, his blue eyes looking into hers, looking for any signs of displeasure, "I know whatever made you upset is probably not something you would like to discuss, but, just so you know, you could talk to me. If you want to. I don't mean to pressure you or anything-"

His blabbering is stopped by a caress of her fingers on his, and Delphini smiles as he blushes. His careening thoughts come to a halt as well, and for a minute, before her voice breaks the spell, there is nothing in his mind but her hand in his and the way their fingers entwine.

"Thank you, Radagast." She leans forward and places one feather light kiss on his cold cheek. "One day I might." A white lie of sorts. She could never begin to explain it to him, not now, perhaps not ever. They slide back into the comfortable silence, first holding hands, then arm in arm as they face frozen steps.

"We should probably go back inside, your hand feels cold," he offers with a smile, neither of them sure of how long it has been.

"Yes, I think I would like that," she replies with a smile of her own, allowing her body to lean into his, almost leaning her head on his shoulder, making both their pulses race.

They can't just linger together in front of the fireplace in their Common Room without becoming the talk of the castle, not to mention the infinite interruptions of the other students getting back, so they say a quick goodbye at the door to the dungeon.

Once they step inside, however, the room is thankfully empty, and Radagast seizes the chance to give her a light kiss on the lips. It's almost a peck, but it is tender, caring, and fails not to create the blushing awkwardness that follows first kisses.

Delphini is not giddy as she reaches her bed, simply happy that she can be like other girls in this. For the first time in a long time, the undercurrent of happiness is stronger within her.

X

* * King's Cross Station, December 26th, 2013 * *

Teddy jumps off the train, carelessly, lost to a fit of giggles. The image puts a smile on Andromeda's lips. Then Delphini descends from the same carriage, all grace and allure in her sure steps, in the way she throws her curls over her shoulder, carefully tucking a couple of strands behind her ear. She is not a mess of giggles, but there's a happy smile on her face. There's a solemn serenity to her, but it does not weight her down. It becomes her.

She watches as the two walk together towards their families, pushing a shared trolley. Delphini waves over her shoulder to the group they've left behind, one of the boys keeping his eyes on her longer than any of the others. Andromeda is given the chance to admire the girl and Teddy together, all the while repeating the same words in her mind.

You will not judge the girl for her blood.

She is not like Bellatrix.

Not Bellatrix. Not Bellatrix. Not Bellatrix. Not Bellatrix.

But Merlin is it hard not to hate the girl. The way she gathers attention from those around her, the composed way in which she executes the most minute of gestures. They are closer now, and they have stopped because Teddy knows she does not like the girl, so they'll say farewell before they get too close to their families. Teddy picks up his trunk from the trolley, leaving it for the polished black leather trunk with silver trimmings and the birdcage atop it. The raven inside crows loudly, impatient to be released.

They hug, and Teddy goes to the extent of hugging Delphini so tight that she's lifted off the floor. She laughs, not the mad cackle of her mother, but the carefree laughter Bellatrix had when she was young. Passers-by have to look twice, for the pristine façade Delphini Lestrange presents to the world seldom cracks, and everyone seems baffled by the notion of true joy in such a creature. Delphini messes up Teddy's hair in retaliation, and threatens to remove the weightless spell from his trunk amidst laughter.

"You wish! You're months away from being allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts," he answers, but blocking his trunk with his legs just to be sure.

Delphini doesn't reply, merely gives him an impish smile. Andromeda knows why. The ban on underage wizards and witches using magic out of school was never enforced in her childhood home, why would it be different at the Malfoys?

Andromeda's mind is starting to struggle, restless, furious, fed by envy. But Teddy holds the handle on his trunk a little higher, and starts walking away from her just in time.

You will not judge the girl for her blood.

She is not like Bellatrix.

Not Bellatrix. Not Bellatrix. Not Bellatrix. Not Bellatrix.

It becomes a chant in her mind. Ted would have called it a prayer. She keeps repeating it and it keeps failing her. Ted would have said it was usual for prayers to do so.

Then a little boy with silver blond hair crashes into Delphini's arms, so hard that the girl has to take a step back. Teddy seems to worry about him as well, judging from the way he puts a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Delphini raises her wide green eyes to Teddy, telling him that she has to go, and Andromeda's mind is ablaze, running in twenty different directions all at once, shredding itself in the process.

There was once danger in the green, but what was it? Her mind runs and runs and runs, but she cannot remember it. There was something, no, someone. Someone dangerous had green eyes. Is the girl the danger at Hogwarts? Her mind whirls, and the voids in it seem to screech, but she cannot figure it out.

"Gran? Are you all right?

Teddy's voice pulls her out from the madness. She wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him with all her might. He doesn't have a clue about what's happening, but he seems to think that getting home will make it better.

Andromeda is just happy that he is here. For as long as he is with her, she can keep him safe.

Except you are going insane and he may be better off without you at all, her cruel mind reminds her.

X

A shape socks into her the second Teddy moves away. The silver hair gives him away, and Delphini wraps her arms around him, tight. She raises Scorpius face from her body, with a gentle hand under his chin, and the moment their eyes meet she knows. Her newfound serenity is washed away, her happiness stained by worry. The pain in Scorpius eyes tells her that Astoria must be much worse.

She says a quick goodbye to Teddy, and walks with brisk steps towards Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa. They hug her, but she never lets go of Scorpius, her left arm permanently wrapped around his frail shoulders. He is just ten years old, and he shouldn't be going through this at ten. He should be pestering her with questions about the Tournament and the other schools, when instead he is silently clinging to her like a drowning man to a board at sea.

"Where's Draco?" She knows the answer will be either home or St. Mungo's, and whichever one will give her a measure of the seriousness of Astoria's condition.

"He is home, Delphini. Astoria has a bad cough today, he couldn't come," Aunt Narcissa answers her with kind eyes that accomplish little in soothing her dread, though it is a better answer than St. Mungo's, "but Scorpius insisted on it."

Of course he did, she thinks, drawing him closer.

"Let's go home, then."

X

* * Tonks House, December 27th, 2013 * *

Teddy is completely baffled by his grandmother's erratic behaviour.

She forgets that he is home a dozen times, continuously checking for his whereabouts within the house. She worries for his safety, though she cannot explain him why. He makes sure he is always near her, just in case she forgets again.

Grandma actually jolted when he came in the kitchen to have breakfast this morning, but she was quick to shrug her shoulders and dismiss it. Teddy saw trough her lie, however.

He can almost see through her eyes, when the grey becomes empty for minutes at a time, as if Andromeda had disconnected from the world and were searching for something inside her. He usually changes his features into something silly to cheer her up, but he won't dare it now. His grandmother feels unstable, and pig snouts or dog ears are not the way to fixing it.

He can almost see through her eyes, and at the bottom of the grey he does not find Grandma. There's someone else in there, some side to Andromeda that he does not know. A frightened creature ready to bite at the slightest disturbance.

He takes care of her, helping around the house mostly so that he has an excuse to keep an eye on her. He hugs her tight whenever he can, even if his Grandma was never terribly fond of them. Grandma always expressed affection in other ways, punctuated by soft fingers running through his permanently messy hair.

He watches over her, carefully, trying to pinpoint what's wrong before he talks to Harry, before he confides in Delphini. He watches as much as he can, observing minute details he never paid much attention to.

He worries in return, ten-fold, once he realizes that there are two people in the house with him, both inside his grandmother. One the frightened creature that jolts and forgets, the other Grandma, with something dark to her. A version of Grandma that mumbles things he cannot quite hear. A version that seems determined to fight something, somehow, even when there is nothing to fight.

Teddy cannot help but wonder if this is what the famed madness of the blood of Black looks like. Teddy wonders if there's a way to stop it, to get his grandmother back. She never had any pride in the name of Black, but that does not change the blood in her veins.

Teddy comes home, and finds his Grandma gone.

X

Malfoy Manor, December 28th, 2013

She had decided to leave this matter alone, to never consider it again, but Scorpius' evident pain proves too much. The haunting in Draco's eyes is too much. The worrisome looks Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa exchange whenever Astoria's cough reaches them downstairs, or when Scorpius is sent to have meals with them and the only thing they can obtain from him are silent tears.

Delphini does her best to distract him, to lift his spirits, but her success is limited and only short-lived. She may get a smile on her lips, but never a laugh. He takes to falling asleep on her bed from the first night that she is home, and that settles it in her mind.

For Delphini is supposed to learn about bringing people back, she is prophesised to do it, so why not bring Astoria back? If they cannot save her, and the Healers have been clear on that, if they cannot stop her from dying, why can't Delphini stop her from staying dead?

She walks inside the bedroom, shutting the door behind her, careful not to make a sound. She intends on approaching the bed and taking a seat in the chair next to it, and then wait quietly for Astoria to wake up. The floorboards have other plans though. They grunt and crack every other step of hers, and Astoria soon stirs in her sleep.

"Delphini, what's the matter?" She asks even before she opens her eyes.

"How do you know it's me?"

"Draco and Scorpius know where to step. My in-laws knock," she answers, with an amused smile.

"Sorry about that," she apologises, her mind shaken by the notion that Scorpius has had to learn the quiet path to his mother's bed while she was gone.

"Don't be," Astoria excuses her, sitting up against the pillows, silencing her pain but unable to keep it from her features "what happened?"

"Nothing, really, I just needed to talk to you. Actually, I need you to listen without interrupting," she knows there's no stopping now, not without losing her nerve, "I have to tell you that I know of ways to cheat death. Well, not exactly. But I'm supposed to know because I was meant to bring Father back from the dead." Every word seems to come out wrong, so she takes a second to steady her breath, gesturing for Astoria to wait, and then clarifies. "What I mean is: I can find out ways to keep you alive, I can learn more about Horcruxes and that sort of thing. Maybe that's a way to fulfil the prophecy, maybe that's how I'm supposed to cheat Death. And it won't be for me or for my father, it will be for someone else, so it won't be wrong."

"Delphini, stop," Astoria says, lowering her eyes to better hide the tears about to spill from them, "not another word."

"But Scorpius deserves having a mother!" Her voice comes out far louder than she intended, and her composure fails her, her voice cracking at the end.

"He does, Delphini, and he will always have me. I just won't be here." She raises her voice just slightly, her eyes forcing Delphini's to lower, and carries on. "Now listen to me, and pay attention. I do not, I repeat, I do not want you to look into such matters, little bird. I am not interested in defeating death."

But I am! I want to beat it, just this once, her mind screams inside her skull, making her ears ring, for Scorpius' sake. For Draco's. For you. How is that wrong?

When Delphini raises her head and means to interrupt, she is stopped by a sternly raised hand, holding one finger up. The authority in the simple gesture is such, in that moment, that she dares not defy it, no matter how brilliant of a case she has built in her mind on how this is the perfect solution for everything.

"I have known that this moment would come since the first time my lungs failed me during a race with my sister when I was ten. I heard the tales of the curse on the women of Greengrass blood all my life, Delphie, even as a little girl, at my father's knee and in my mother's lap. I have known since I was thirteen and my legs gave up under me when I was walking by the lake at Hogwarts. It has long been a matter of when and not of if. Your intentions are good, you mean well, but this is not the way. Accept death as a part of life and you will know something your Father never did, Delphini."

The painful truth ends the argument, and Delphini has no choice but to stare at Astoria, so much thinner now, her skin looking almost brittle today, dark half-moons beneath her eyes, and face it.

So her choice is made, for Astoria never said no. She never asked not to be saved. She never prohibited Delphini from doing it.

Astoria is serene in her facing of death, but she too would like to live longer, for Scorpius, for Draco, Delphini can hear the wish irradiate from her mind. It's not a plea for help, it's merely a faint little sigh of Astoria's mind that travels across the room. A resigned thought of a stoic creature that stands in the breaking of the waves at shore, defying the sea as she waits for the tidal wave that shall take her.

Delphini is serene, that undercurrent of happiness stabilising her through all of this, and she'll be very careful in the handling of whatever she finds, but her choice is made.

Gaunt Shack will not be forgotten forever. Little Hangleton will not peacefully lie in the countryside, undisturbed by the ill-begotten, green-eyed descendants of Riddle.


Author's Note: Hello there! Please don't leave without a review. I've been travelling a lot this past few weeks, and I wrote quite a lot while I was gone, but it turns out that writing some five chapters at the same time in bursts and spurts makes for quite the editing nightmare. Anyway, there's more on the way!

PS: This thing has been edited because I forgot to put the warning up, sorry about that.