KEYnote: Not following canon, whatever that is. Peter has arc, he will be a developed character, although, I suggest not holding your breath for a redemption.

P.s. I am writing this story in month sections, some chapters will highlight some characters more than others but trust they will have their turn to shine.

THANK YOU Nauze and the Nameless Scribe!

Chapter 4 - October

Dalilah was sure Severus, Regulus, and Lily were having a fine Friday night. She was even sure that Hagrid, who was always open to making new friends, was likely having a delightful evening.

But what was she doing with her evening, waiting in a hallway for Dumbledore to return from supper under the invisibility cloak?

Dalilah couldn't even risk making friends with Hagrid yet, not when the Forbidden Forest and his herd of thestrals was her only way of getting off the grounds undetected. Well, she had Fawkes too, but she wasn't sure appearing in a burst of flames was at all subtle for the types of trips she was imagining.

Soon enough, Dumbledore arrived, spotting a rather dashing bedazzled eye patch over his right eye socket.

Having taken an unintentional book from Luna Lovegood's page, Dalilah had left her shoes in her dorm. So when Dalilah followed close behind the Headmaster, her feet might have been cold against the stone but they were also silent. She followed him right into his office without him noticing, and took a seat out of the way against the wall.

Fawkes was still on his perch, despite the fact that he slept every night in the Dungeons with her.

Dumbledore looked at his ex-familiar, "Aren't you usually with Ms. Evans by this time at night?"

Fawkes just stared at the man.

Dumbledore sighed, taking a seat behind his desk, "I didn't mean to hurt her."

Fawkes didn't answer that either.

The one-eyed man went about his business until the fire flashed green and a young Alastor Moody stepped through the flame.

"Did you find anything?" Dumbledore asked without greeting.

Moody grunted, "Which one? The girl or the budding Dark Lord?"

"Either."

"Nothing," Moody growled as he dropped into the seat behind him.

"Nothing?" Dumbledore asked, voice falsely light.

"Ms. Dalilah Evans does not exist. Well sure, there is a record of her having died prematurely at birth; she even has a tombstone and there is a body there. But of her foster family? Nothing, absolutely nothing. The hospital she was born in was shut down years ago. She has no school listing, no hint of the family she is from. If you want more, you'll have to go back and question her parents."

"You know I cannot, I am lucky she hasn't said anything to her parents as it is."

"Or the press," Moody added almost smugly, "really, Albus, what were you doing using Legilimency on a child?"

"She's a dark witch," Dumbledore stated with absolute certainty.

Dalilah bristled but kept her breathing even, hugging her legs to herself tightly.

She was glad Fawkes had pecked out his eye.

"How do you know?"

"She fought me."

"So?"

"What I saw…"

"What did you see?" Moody asked, unmoved.

"I saw the Killing Curse being used against a man, a woman, and a baby. Dalilah Evans is not who she appears to be."

"You think the girl murdered people?"

"I know she did, but as she said about Tom, proving that a wizard or witch killed a muggle is rather difficult," Dumbledore said.

Dalilah was hardly breathing, was her nightmare of Voldemort so real that not only had he managed to influence her thoughts against Dumbledore but when the Headmaster had looked into her mind, he had seen into Voldemort's?

Oh, and in addition to this proof that she wasn't going crazy, she had also inadvertently made an enemy out of Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.

Well, she was sort of crazy, but now she had to worry about the living Voldemort, the Diary Voldemort, the Voldemort in her head, and Dumbledore plus his allies.

Fuck her.

"I believe Tom killed his muggle father."

"I thought you said you didn't find anything," Dumbledore accused.

"Little Hangleton, a pretty graveyard, and a Tom Riddle Senior who died in August 1943."

Dumbledore let out a breath, "While he was still in school."

"Start'em young these Dark Lords," Moody agreed with his usual cheer.

"Little Hangleton, why does that sound familiar?"

"The Gaunts, or the last of them," Moody said, "Riddle's mother was Merope Gaunt."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore agreed, "She died giving birth as I remember, it was why he was raised at an orphanage."

"Probably why he killed his muggle father, abandonment is so hard to overcome," the auror's words were dripping with sarcasm.

"And the Gaunt Estate?"

"Nothing more than a shack in the weeds. Salazar Slytherin would have been so proud. But there was nothing to use against our murderous Riddle but his tragic past, which you apparently already knew."

"I was the one who found him at the orphanage. He was a disturbed child, but I had hoped… But his enjoying tormenting the other boys should have been a clue."

Moody was quiet for a long time, "This girl… a muggleborn, isn't she?"

"You know that she is."

"I'm failing to understand the connection."

"Your not being able to discover anything to prove her past supports a growing theory of mine."

"Do share with the class, Albus," Moody said with a sneer.

"I think he raised her as his heir. He sent her here to spy, to be an insider when he comes back to take Hogwarts."

Dalilah had to clamp a hand to her mouth and nose, to keep from laughing or screaming. Funny thing was, if they caught her here like this, it would probably confirm his absurd theory.

"Why would Riddle raise a muggleborn?"

"What if she isn't a muggleborn?" Dumbledore asked in turn, "You did say that there was a child buried under the name Dalilah Evans."

Moody sighed, "I know they call me paranoid, however-"

"However?"

"However, are you sure you aren't looking for the worst?"

"I know what I saw."

"Do you? How long did you have to process what you saw before your pet plucked out one of your eyeballs?" Moody paused, "I can have a magical eye made for you."

"I would rather not be called Mad Eyed Dumbledore."

"Not long then."

"I didn't say-"

"How many Dark Wizards or Witches have Phoenixes as familiars?" Moody defended her. "Fawkes's actions indicate that you were in the wrong and not the girl. Dearborn also said that Riddle used the Killing Curse. I doubt they are friends."

Thank you, Moody, for all your thorough questioning skills.

"Her boggart said that they were the same, that it was her-"

"Albus!" Moody roared, "Listen to yourself. There is plenty of scum in the school these days, but I suspect that girl is more likely a victim than another villain."

Fawkes sang a pretty tune.

Moody motioned toward the Phoenix, "See, the bird agrees with me."

Dumbledore sighed, "I don't know. Horace gave me the books he remembered giving Tom permission to take from the restricted section. I haven't had time to look through them, but the titles are not encouraging."

"Lovely," Moody snarled, he stood, "I've best be off, I'm on call tonight."

"You'll keep looking?"

"Of course, but Albus, you should be more worried about the old families than this girl."

"It is in our best interests that we discount nothing."

Moody nodded and left through the floo without saying goodbye.

Dumbledore slumped back into his seat.

The portrait of Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black, crooned, "You have no idea the forces you are messing with, Albus."

Dumbledore raised his head, "Is that a warning or a threat?"

"You attacked a child's mind in your own school, you may find that the Phoenix will not be the only thing that may turn on you. Hogwarts is not to be betrayed."

"I did not attack her, I never meant her any harm," Dumbledore said, touching his eye patch, "I felt it was necessary for the safety of us all that I know what she is hiding."

"She didn't trust you. Trust must be earned," Phineas said.

"What do you care? She is a muggle-born, I thought you were vehemently opposed to them."

"To marrying them, certainly. But I am not so blind as to deny the potential of many of them. Ms. Dalilah Evans was sorted into Slytherin for a reason, and Slytherins take care of their own, because no one else will."

"You think Tom is taking care of his own."

"He's a common criminal. Hiding in the shadows, shaping policy by terror. I do hope my descendants don't fall for his trickery."

Dumbledore mumbled something about 'Noble House of Black' as he stood, making his way up to the higher floor where the private rooms of the Headmaster's rooms were. Fawkes glided out into the night sky to her relief, lest any suspension be raised, though she knew the Phoenix knew she was there.

Dalilah checked her watch, checked her map, and waited two hours in the dim light of the office. The portraits were asleep, as far as she could tell that is.

She didn't remove her cloak as she crept around the room.

The books Dumbledore mentioned were not on his desk. Thinking like Hermione, Dalilah used a point me spell, finding that she could cast the simple spell wordless and let her wand lead her to her aim. A low cabinet that she leaned over, draping herself and the cloak over it. If the portraits who were possibly awake noticed a disappearing cabinet, none of them sounded an alarm.

Then, Dalilah did something that was tantamount to giving in to the voices; she poked at the dark inside her.

Voldemort came to the surface of her mind like a leviathan. And she felt a power rush through her veins, and a weakness.

Voldemort had drained Ginny nearly to death but Dalilah suspected in this case, Voldemort would take her over rather than take on his own form.

~We could be immortal forever~, he agreed.

What's your favourite book? She thought back at him.

He seemed to startle, looking through her eyes, coming closer to the surface, making her heart race.

This was so dangerous.

~The largest tome~, he hissed causally, ~I could teach you much~.

But Dalilah had been watching him, or herself, or -she didn't know how to explain it, but she reached for one of the smaller books that was titled Secrets of the Darkest Art.

Voldemort said nothing, but she felt him watching her as she slipped it into her bag and softly shut the cabinet.

~That book teaches you only how to kill.~

But there was a note of worry to his tone, they were too intertwined, she could no more hide her emotions from him than he could from her. If their thoughts had barriers between them, their emotions were a different matter.

~How do you plan to escape?~ Voldemort asked curiously, ~Will you wait until morning?~

She smiled, her bare feet padding on the stones as she went to the window ledge and stepped over the edge.

Voldemort retreated from the forefront of her mind, the fear of death ever his weakness.

It allowed Dalilah the freedom to enjoy the wind as gravity coaxed her faster ever downward. Pulling her shrunken broom from her pocket, she had one hand wrapped around her cloak and her wand then her broom as she mounted just soon enough on the enlarged broom to pull out of her freefall.

Dalilah laughed into the wind as she looped the castle, the invisibility cloak she tied around her neck and wore the hood correctly. It was likely that flashes of her legs, the front of the broom and her arms were visible. But she didn't care, trusting that dark would hide her. She tilted her chin up to the cloudy sky and let herself enjoy her victory.

Tonight, she had invaded Dumbledore's office, under his very nose, stolen from him, and she had tricked Voldemort hidden inside her to reveal something valuable to her.

Fawkes joined her in her flight. The clouds parted and she saw the moon.

And it was full.

That night, she did not return to her dorm.

Remus felt bad, James was truly torn up about the cloak, and he knew he wasn't making things easier.

But…

"Please, Remy," Peter begged, "I'll fail without you."

"Then go speak with the Professor. And don't call me that."

"Sirius does."

"Only when he's jesting. My name is Remus," he was walking as fast as he could, his longer stride had Peter panting as he jogged to keep up.

"Please?" Peter whined, "just the one Charms essay and then I'll do-"

"No."

Remus turned the corner and was both chagrined and glad to see them.

But Peter whispered something that stopped him in his tracks, "The three of us are studying to become animagi for you and you can't help me on a single essay?"

Remus spun on him, his voice hushed even as he wanted to yell, "You're what?"

He couldn't have heard him right, surely James and Sirius wouldn't go that far for him. It was incredibly kind but incredibly illegal because it was profoundly dangerous. And if it was for Remus…

No, he couldn't let them. They were only fifth years, they couldn't risk themselves like that, not for him.

Peter looked pale, realizing that he had just blown a secret that James and Sirius had been keeping because they knew how he would react.

Remus spun on his heel, no longer rushing but stomping. He felt like shit today, his body battered and bruised from the shift last night. Madame Pomphrey had patched up the worst of it and had wanted him to stay in bed. But the first match of the year was today, between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and with the way things had been between them all from the start of term, he hadn't wanted to miss time with his friends.

James and Sirius were leaning against one of the windows that led out to the grounds. Most people were already seated, but Remus had warned them yesterday that Pomphrey was going to take her sweet time with the bandages.

They both smiled until Remus said, "Animagi? Are you both out of your minds?"

James and Sirius turned twin scowls who took one look at the third of them, extremely on edge and squeaked, "I'll go save us seats."

Before running away.

Coward, Remus thought uncharitable. He turned back to his friends, the hall deserted as he said, "I am grateful and amazed that you would go far for me but you-"

James crossed his arms, "Sirius and I are the best in Transfiguration, not just in our year but out of the whole student body. We aren't McGonagall's favourites because of the pranks we pull."

"It's illegal," Remus hissed.

Sirius got in his face, "You don't have to be alone all the time. We are friends, Remus. Let us do this for you." He flashed a smile with a lot of teeth, "It'll be fun."

Remus growled at him, "You don't know what you're risking."

James put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "You're worth the risk, Remus. You don't have to suffer more than you already have."

Remus stepped back, shaking his head, "Becoming animagi is too much-"

"Sounds wicked."

Remus nearly jumped out of his skin, along with James and Sirius who jolted back to gape at the little redhead that had appeared out of nowhere. Which was impossible, he was a werewolf, there was no possible way he wouldn't be able to hear her-

He looked down at Dalilah's feet, "Where are your shoes?"

Dalilah grinned and wiggled her toes, "I didn't feel like shoes today."

Remus blinked down at her, all his anger forgotten in the confusion of this strange, strange girl with roughly braided red hair, dark circles under her eyes, and some type of dark powder.

Cocoa-powder, he realized a moment later she was holding some type of pastry in a disposable box.

"You didn't feel like shoes today?" he repeated, miffed.

She nodded, "And I made this for you."

He caught the small box, and heard a spoon rattle inside of it, "Why?"

"It's a mini-lava cake, I know it makes me feel better after I've gotten the shit beaten out of me."

He stiffened, his immediate fear that she figured his secret out had him gritting his teeth, "I'm fine."

"No offence, Remus, but you look like you've been hit by a truck, then had it roll back over on you a few times," she said tugging his arm, "Come on, we are going to miss the opening of the match."

Remus let himself and sent bewildered looks to James and Sirius who looked just as railroaded as he felt.

James cleared his throat, "Dalilah, about the Animagi stuff… you won't mention that to anyone, will you?"

"Course not," she said with a smile that was nothing like Lily's, "if you teach me how to be one too."

Remus bit back a groan, knowing that this bit of blackmail, this bit of challenge would absolutely ensure James and Sirius continued with their plan.

Had he even ever had a chance of stopping them?

"You only have one year of-" Sirius began.

Dalilah cut him off, "Then I won't perform the spell if you think after teaching me I couldn't."

"We could just say you aren't regardless," James pointed out.

She shrugged as they approached the Gryffindor stand, she didn't even hesitate in direction, "Doesn't matter, sounds like fun, and you and Sirius are the best at Transfiguration in the school, so I doubt it would be a waste of time."

He had to hand it to her, she was persistent. And Remus had the sudden idea that this might slow these two down, might make it more of a hassle, which was no less than they deserved for doing something this outrageous, "I'm sure James and Sirius would love to tutor you."

Dalilah smiled, "Great, thanks."

James and Sirius exchanged a long look until they had to climb the stairs.

Remus hated stairs.

By the time he sat down and ended up sitting between Lily and Dalilah, Dalilah beside James and then Sirius. The sweet autumn breeze was crisp, the sun warm, an utterly beautiful day for Quidditch, and he was starving.

He hadn't been hungry earlier this morning, he hurt far too much for it. But now, his stomach growled nearly as loud as his wolf.

Which is when his nose reminded him that he had cake. He opened the box and didn't even look up when the whistle blew. His mouth watered, the cake looked rich and dripped with dark rivers of frosting that he realized was still warm.

He tore his gaze away from the cake to look at Dalilah who was watching the game as intently as James and Sirius.

"You made this?" he asked, causing all three to glance at him.

She grinned, "Yep, I'm a properly trained house-elf, I'm good at loads of domestic bullshit."

Remus had no idea what to think or how to act around this strange whirlwind of a girl. She seemed like someone who belonged in Gryffindor, more, perhaps, than he did for that matter.

Dalilah rolled her eyes at his silence, and scooped up his spoon and took a smallish scoop and ate it. She then pulled her wand and scourgified the utilize before handing it back to him. "See, not poisoned."

His cheeks heated, taking the spoon back, he muttered, "I didn't mean that, thanks for the gift."

She grinned, "No problem. It was fun, the house-elves were psyched when I taught them the recipe, though honestly, teaching them something new is probably the only reason they let me do all the work myself."

Lily leaned forward to glare at her sister, "How come you didn't bring me any cake?"

Dalilah blew her a kiss and lied easily, "Because Remus helped me with my astronomy homework yesterday."

And that easy white lie was probably why she was in Slytherin. Remus played back what Dalilah's unexpected whirlwind appearance caused, and realized not only had she been able to sneak up on them, she had managed to blackmail, sort of, James and Sirius to help her in transfiguration if not teach her to be an Animagus.

The girl was as slippery as quicksilver.

James whispered without looking at her as to not draw Lily's attention who was cheering for the Hufflepuff team, "Dalilah, who is beating you?"

"Here?" she said speaking in the same way he did, "No one yet, my cousin was a brute though and my foster-parents encouraged it."

"Why would anyone encourage that?" Remus asked in between bites of cake.

Her eyes flickered to him, "Because some people don't know what is wrong and right past their prejudices."

Remus blinked, feeling for a moment as if she was speaking about him and his lycanthropy. But surely she wasn't. Sirius and James were right, he wasn't as alone as he thought he was, of course, Remus had learned the hard way never to assume how someone might respond to a contagious disease.

Remus took a bite of the chocolate cake and almost melted as the warm richness filled his senses.

This was the comfort food that comforted comfort food.

Dalilah was smiling at him and between one bite and another, he thanked her once more and meant it from his heart.

Dalilah didn't hang out in the Slytherin common room most nights, despite the fact that she thought that the giant dome-viewing window beneath the lake was one of the coolest things ever. However, most other Slytherins did hang out here, so finding Regulus didn't even require the map.

She tapped on his shoulder, he turned round, raising a dark brow at her.

"You're a Black right, as in House Black, as in you've studied ancient magics, and maybe more familiar, so to speak with Dark Art texts?"

Both his brows were almost at his hairline, "Yes?"

"I need your help."

"Okay?" he said looking worried.

She glanced around the room and some of the other students were watching them. "You don't have to," she backtracked.

He waved her off, "Too late to ruin my reputation. Sirius being a git basically ensured that only Severus takes me seriously." Standing, and putting his won transfiguration book in his bag, "Where-"

"Your bunk?" she asked, knowing Hermione and she spent the most time in Ron's dorm room because the reverse wasn't possible.

He nodded and led the way, as soon as they were on his bed that looked the same as her own and warded the crap out of it, he asked, "So what book do you have for me?"

She pulled it out but didn't hand it to him, "I haven't opened it yet, I don't know if it's cursed."

"Secrets of the Darkest Art?" he read, "Dalilah, where did you even get this?"

"I stole it from Dumbledore's office."

His eyes went huge and he gaped at her, "You did what?"

"That's not the important part."

"No? Theft from the Headmaster's office is supposed to be impossible."

"Supposed to be and being impossible are two different things."

"What do you even want in this book?" he asked, snatching it from her.

"I want to know something that can take energy from a person, or-" she hesitated, then thought, screw it, "or something to escape death."

Regulus stared at her, "You're looking for immortality?"

"More or less," she agreed, her voice pleasant.

Regulus looked down at the book, pulled his wand and said a long phrase in Latin, before declaring, "It's safe to open."

"So why don't you open it?" she asked.

"I don't trust it."

She nodded, holding out her hand, "I can-"

But he opened the book.

She scooted so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

"Oh, good," she remarked, "there are pictures," she quipped.

Regulus shook his head as flipped through the book, "My mother would love this book." he paused, "We should probably burn it."

"I would if I knew it was the only copy."

He nodded, and they started reading through the book.

She put her hand on the page that said Legilimency, what Moody said Dumbledore had done.

Highly skilled Legilimens can also influence a mind that they invade. It is easier to perform Legilimency when the target and practitioners' eyes meet.

"That bastard," she breathed.

"Dalilah?"

She looked up to meet Regulus's gaze, "Dumbledore did this to me, this is why I was in the hospital. That bleeding bastard."

Regulus looked down at the page, "No way, it's Dumbledore, he despises anything remotely linked to the Dark Arts."

"I overheard Mad-Eye accuse Dumbledore of it. He tried invading my mind to get information about me and my boggart."

"Mad-Eye?" Regulus squeaked, "You mean the Auror? Mad-Eye Moody? Dalilah, that man is crazy. And how did you spy on him without him seeing you with that freaky eye of his?"

She paused, "I don't know."

He raised a brow at her, "Are you sure he didn't see you?"

She stared at him, "He didn't make note of it if he did, but no, I'm not sure, and I wouldn't put it past him."

"But was Dumbledore trying to hurt you? You shouldn't have been unconscious for a week because of this spell, especially if he was trying to be subtle."

She frowned, "I think I've had the spell done to me too much over the last year. If I had any natural shields, they've worn away. The instant he touched my mind… the pain is indescribable, it hurt worse than the Cruciatus curse."

She didn't know why she was being so open with Regulus, he was destined to join the Dark Lord one day, but of all the people she could possibly confide in, Regulus was the only one she trusted not to go Dumbledore or some other professor who would immediately put her family in danger.

Regulus looked at her for a long moment, "Who are you?"

She smiled, she didn't quite trust him that much, "I've had some exposure to the Wizarding World before meeting the Evans."

"You're not an Evans?" Regulus questioned.

"Oh, I am."

"I'm guessing the same guy who used the Torture Curse on you is the same one who tried using the Killing Curse on you?"

Didn't work out so well for him, she thought, but nodded, "Yes, he is. He is a Dark Lord looking for immortality and I'm looking for how to destroy him."

Regulus flipped through pages, Necromancy, Obscurus, Parseltongue, and something called a Horcrux.

"Parseltongue isn't a Dark Art," Dalilah said, glancing over the page, "You can do evil with Latin, but Latin isn't a Dark Art."

Regulus smiled a bit, "Just when you start sounding like a Gryffindor, you say something like that."

"Does that spell include murder?"

Regulus frowned and began reading aloud.

Dalilah paled.

The splitting of souls.

Regulus lowered the book, and had to clear his voice twice before saying, "I'm a Black, but that is the single most disturbing thing I have heard of in my life."

"Do you think a person could make more than one?"

Regulus turned on her, the disgust clear on his face, "Why would anyone halve their soul more than once? Merlin, the instability that would result- You would have to be truly-"

"Is it possible?" she stressed, "Could a soul be split over and over again, if you wanted immortality so badly that-"

"That you would what?" Regulus snapped, "Destroy yourself? You might as well give up magic if you did that. The magic is as much tied to the soul as our blood."

"Could you compensate with taking energy from another? Like leeching of another?"

"Merlin, Dalilah! It isn't a matter of can but should! No one should do this! Ever, its more than absence, it's-" He looked back down at the book; "'Tamper with the deepest mysteries the source of life, the essence of self only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind.'"

"I'm not asking for myself, I think I have met a Horcrux," she said, or two.

"Met one how?"

"My friend got possessed by a Diary."

"A Diary." he repeated, "Dalilah, how am supposed to trust that-"

"What can I really tell you to make you trust me?" she asked. "You know that there is a rising Dark Lord, you know there are whispers of another war. Is it so unbelievable that someone out of Hogwarts could get swept up into this madness?"

"Why ask for my help and not, say, Dumbledore, who clearly knew you were lying to him."

"Because he'll bring it to the public."

"Maybe it should be," he countered.

"Really? You want to publish this ritual in the Daily Prophet?"

"No! Of course not! This thing shouldn't exist."

"If I go to the adults, Tom Riddle will get wind of it, and if he connects it back to me in any way, he will kill my family. I know that doesn't matter to some people because they are 'just' muggles, but they are my family. I would do anything for them, do you understand, Regulus? I would die for them."

He stared at her for a long, long moment, before saying in French, "La famille d'abord."

She nodded, "Family first."

"Well," he said looking back at the book, "A better motto than Toujours Pur. But you do realize that you and a lot of other people might die because you are putting your family first."

"Riddle is already playing cat and mouse with Dumbledore, he knows who the Dark Lord is now aside from this, there isn't much else I could tell him that he doesn't already know. But I am muggle-born, as is my sister. I don't need to be moved any further up the list."

Regulus sighed, "Very well." He looked back at the book, "Yes, possession and influence are possible, probably because the soul will always crave being made whole."

"I would gladly grant it that," she said, "In death." Her own Horcrux stirred, watching, but as silent as a serpent waiting for its prey. "How do you destroy them?"

"Destruction of a Horcrux is difficult, but not impossible, and requires that the receptacle be damaged completely beyond physical or magical repair."

Basilisk Fang, she realized, lucky for her, all she needed was a rooster.

But then another thought occurred to her, "Can a person be a Horcrux?"

Regulus was quiet for a moment as he reskimmed the pages, "It doesn't say."

Neither can live while the other survives, the prophecy had said.

Dalilah was going to be sick.

The Horcrux in her mind whispered, ~We need not listen to a prophecy, we can be as one, you and I.~

But Dalilah wasn't fooled, she was in the process of being processed, and the only way to end it was to do irrevocable harm to the host. So either she killed herself, or Voldemort took her over, and her only hope then, if the worst happened, was that she wouldn't be a prisoner in her own mind.

Voldemort laughed, ~For all eternity.~

Regulus put a hand on her shoulder, "Dalilah, are you alright?"

"No," she said honestly, "I'm not."

Two Weeks Later

'Borrowing' a rooster from Hagrid wasn't all that difficult, especially with the cloak. However, Dalilah's mission to slay a Basilisk stopped short in the girl's loo.

Ultimately, she had decided against including Regulus on this mission. She was in self-reflection, relying on a chicken for safety. No need to have two people rely on-

~But we are two people, my dear.~

"I thought you said we were one?" she retorted, looking up into the mirror.

Creepy bastard that Voldemort was, he wasn't just in the mirror, he was in the mirror standing behind her reflection. She watched him lean in to whisper in her ear, ~If you allow me in, we could become so much more.~

He was already living inside her head, she didn't need or want him any closer.

~But you do.~

She huffed a humourless laugh, leaning against the sink, "I sincerely doubt that."

~I could show you the world. I could give you unimaginable power.~

She focused her gaze on his, hazel to red, "All I want from you is to know where in this school you left your Horcrux."

His gaze widened slightly, he had been using eye contact to capture more of her consciousness. But she had already learned that the more she was exposed to him, the more exposed he was to her.

So she saw a jewelled tiara, stored away in a room of forgotten things, a room that came and went.

As Dobby called, the Come and Go Room. The Room of Requirement.

Dalilah smirked at him, "Thanks, Tommy."

Voldemort bared his teeth at her which he quickly smoothed into a smile, ~Did they ever tell you how your grandparents died?~

Dalilah stiffened, "Natural causes."

~Natural for your muggle family, certainly. Death does become them.~

Dalilah felt a sickening tug in her heart, knowing, and hating, whatever was about to come next.

~Did you never wonder why your Aunt hated you so very much? Why your Uncle tried to beat the magic out of you? They were there that day, you know. And they remember me.~

Dalilah gritted her teeth, "What did you do?" And why did he say grandparents like he was including the Potters, James's parents?

~Oh, because I am. They were all gathered together for the improper marriage between a pureblood and muggle-born.~

"No," Dalilah said, "I have pictures of my parents' wedding. Surely someone would have told me-"

Voldemort laughed, ~Some just don't have the stomach to relive such horrors. And your Aunt was right to blame your mother. She should have stayed with her own people.~

"Screw off," she said, "Your blood is as split as mine."

Voldemort ignored her, ~Don't you wish to see?~

"No."

~Pity, I'm not giving you a choice.~

And then Dalilah's vision blurred of the rundown girl's room of the mirror before her. She was standing in a sunny garden. Lily and James as adults, dancing in a tiny pavilion, looking at each other and no other.

Lily's hair was spun with tiny white blooms and her dress a smooth white fabric that shifted with the slightest movement, the back laced with white lily-lace. She was stunning and young and happy. And James Potter? He looked like the happiest man in the world, and that happiness was its own type of beauty.

However, Dalilah knew whose eyes she was seeing from and she tried to call a warning.

Sirius stepped in front of the newlyweds, wand raised.

Someone screamed and all hell broke loose.

Dalilah watched as an unhappy passenger as masked figures rained down terror and chaos on the small gathering.

Sirius managed to hold Voldemort off until Bellatrix took over the offence and Voldemort redirected his attention to the Potters.

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were a lost cause, they had pumped their fortune into Dumbledore's little resistance, stood out too publicly for muggle and muggle-born rights. Voldemort still hoped to convert Potter and Black, both had proved themselves at Hogwarts to be dominating figures, not truly afraid if others got hurt. With his parents and his in-laws dead, James Potter might see reason.

Even if just to save his new bride.

Fleamont died easily from the death curse, the small man dropping to the ground. Euphemia, however, proved that her son's skills in Transfiguration had not come from nowhere, a relative of Minerva McGonagall, the witch gave herself a noble end, but her instant shield charm was nothing to the Killing Curse.

It amused him how often his victims fell because of that mistake. At Hogwarts, shield charms were ingrained too deeply but were useless against those who were above the law.

Voldemort turned on the muggles.

The anti-disapparation wards prevented any quick escapes, as well as preventing help from arriving.

It wasn't too hard to pick out the Evans' family, though Lily Potter's sister was a horse-faced creature who turned wide-pale eyes to him.

And he smiled at her as he raised his wand at her.

Only for the father to yank her back and the mother to throw herself in front of her daughter. As short and petite as the mother was, the Killing Curse caught her in the head.

The father, surprisingly, managed to throw a knife at Voldemort's head and got as close to giving him a mortal injury as anyone ever had.

Voldemort didn't spare him as the tall man with steel-blue eyes shoved his daughter away and stood proud in the face of death.

His death followed swiftly and Mrs. Lily Potter was just a hair short of interceding to do anything about it. Voldemort was forced to shield as she shouted, "Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!"

Over and over again she cast it.

It was one spell he did not recognize, wasn't even sure entirely what it did, he only knew it was powerful and the Latin promised pain.

One of his Death Eaters stepped into one of the spells like a fool and proceeded to die like one. The spell seemed to slice the victim up and his Death Eater died hydrating the grass with his blood.

"Impressive," he praised, "For a mudblood."

The woman's emerald eyes shone with hate, and the next spell she threw shattered his shield. He tossed a Cruciatus curse at her.

She let the spell hit her and screamed the next spell, "Sectumsempra."

Voldemort sidestepped the spell, breaking his concentration, and she killed another one of his Death Eaters. Despite himself, he found himself admiring her use of the Dark Arts, of her power. He understood now what Severus found so appealing about the dirtblood.

James Potter finally joined his wife's side, and he brought up the earth, again forcing Voldemort to step back.

The anti-apparition spell broke, and Voldemort hissed his mark overhead and disapparated as the Aurors began arriving.

Voldemort's work was done.

Dalilah came back to herself sobbing, her magic roiling inside as she tried to fight something that was inside. Every mirror in the room shattered and she hardly noticed when Moaning Myrtle and the rooster fled the room.

This visceral memory of killing her grandparents ever etched in her mind. The sight of the light leaving their eyes would forever haunt her memories, worse than having actually borne witness to Lily's murder.

Sirius Black had seen a lot of strange things in his years at Hogwarts, and maybe one or ten strange things at home, but even for him, a rooster and a ghost moping together outside a girl's flooding lavatory, was… odd.

It was Halloween night, and they had a Quidditch match in the morning. Sirius had decided to take a walk before fifth-year's curfew ended, avoiding the temptation of getting lost in the party. He liked the emptiness, the quiet he could sometimes find in the castle at night.

But, it seemed someone else was doing other things aside from partying tonight, that or it was a really weird party.

"What happened?" he asked the ghost.

The girl with long pigtails looked up at him and warbled, "She's mad."

Sirius didn't ask more questions before stepping toward the door. "Hello?" he called into the girl's bathroom.

No one responded but he heard crying.

"Hello?" he called louder, and when there was no response, he called louder, "I'm coming in!" Then tacked on, "I'm a boy!"

The sight presented to him when he came into the room, though, chased away any worry about proprietary. Every single mirror in the room was shattered, and the glass shards were beneath the water, and on her knees, Lily's sister, sobbing her heart out.

If she had been the one to break the mirrors, either she had seriously messed up a spell or it was a sign of accidental magic.

Which really wasn't good for someone her age.

The only other two people Sirius had seen or even heard of using accidental magic were his cousins Bella and Andromeda.

Bella's tentative grasp on sanity had snapped when she had gotten married, and Andromeda… Andromeda was kind of scary in her own ways, but she had long ago signed off the bullshit of their world. Whatever she had done to curb her power, she hadn't talked to him about it.

But Dalilah had missed the first four years of schooling, which meant that accidental magic could be a sign of something worse than insanity. Sirius imagined the only reasons she was doing so well in school now was because she was intelligent, asking for help, and powerful. But power always comes at a price.

"Dalilah," he said gently, coming to her side, "Dalilah…"

She was rocking herself, hands clenched at the top of her head.

He sank to his knees beside her, heedless of the water and possible glass shards, "Dalilah, can you hear me?"

Her eyes flashed open and she looked at him with the same exact shade of hazel as James's, a brown-grey cut through with flecks of blue, like an uncertain rainbow starbursting from the pupil. He had always thought of James's eyes an interesting shade, but without glasses, he only now considered them kind of beautiful.

"What's wrong?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.

She shook her head, her sobs turning silent but the tears did not cease falling.

Cautiously, Sirius pulled the girl into his arms and hugged her when she leaned into him, rather than flinching away. He started stroking her back, "It's alright. You're safe."

She let out a laugh at that and clung to him harder.

When Dalilah's tears seemed at an under, she pulled back, wiping at her eyes, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, then shook her head, "No, tonight is Halloween."

"Not a holiday person?" he quipped.

Her expression was unchanged as she said, "My parents were murdered on Halloween."

He paled, "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head again, "No, it's alright." But then he was confused, someone had told a supposed orphan that her parents had been murdered on a specific date? That was cruel. Unless she meant she had another foster family.

Sirius opened his mouth- but she held up her hand.

"No really, they are both alive, I didn't…" she swallowed hard, "the old nightmares are still there, even though I know better."

"That doesn't seem odd to me. Whether they are alive now or not, you didn't have them for the majority of your life and I'd imagine that's difficult." Sirius, unsure what else to say after that stood, his pants and robes soaked. He offered her a hand, "Come on, it's getting late."

She nodded, checking her watch before taking his hand, "Thank you, Sirius."

I should be thanking you, he thought. Sure, Dalilah had stirred things up with himself, James, Remus, and Peter, but those things had always been brewing. That wasn't really her fault, but it was thanks to this meddling Slytherin that Sirius had a chance to reconnect with his brother for the first time since he had been sorted into Gryffindor and had become the complete bane of their mother's existence.

Even if she had more or less blackmailed him and James into tutoring her in Transfiguration.

"Did you see my chicken?" Dalilah asked as they exited the room after Sirius waved a drying spell over them both.

He nodded, and around the corner, he scooped up the chicken, the ghost fleeing from them as if they were the peculiar ones.

"Are you excited about the match tomorrow?" she asked, cradling the rooster he passed to her.

"Sure am, since James and I joined, we've been undefeated. I am not sorry to say that Slytherin doesn't stand a chance."

"Oh, I wouldn't bet on it this year."

"Well," he told her, "aside from my little brother, the entire team is nothing but a thoughtless group of thugs on brooms."

Dalilah smiled at him, the mischief in her eyes reminding her strongly of James, "Oh, I'm sure they can't be all that bad."

He snorted, then hesitated when they got to the point where they would have to part ways.

Dalilah squeezed his arm, "Thanks, Sirius, I-"

He held up his hands, "It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I get it."

And he did, better than she might ever realize. Sirius wasn't sure if she knew what was happening to Remus, but her history, like Sirius's, made her more sympathetic to others' pain.

"See you on the field," she said with a soft smile, rooster in hand as she parted.

"You'll be cheering for Gryffindor once you realize how awesome we are!" he called after her.

She laughed.

Sirius was smug about her reaction until he arrived on the pitch morning and met the fiery redhead on the field.

Dalilah Potter stepped onto the pitch and smiled at James Potter and Sirius Black's looks of incredulity.

The announcer was abuzz with it too. The first girl on the Slytherin team in recent memory.

As soon as the whistle blew and she lifted off into the air, she was in her element, and she got to watch her father and godfather soar in their prime.

They were good, she would admit, but she had been holding back in practice and she did not hesitate to dive-bomb the beaters when she realized that the Gryffindor Seeker wasn't worth his broomstick as he lollygagged around.

It didn't surprise her that Sirius didn't hold back when it came to his brother who captured the quaffle, but it did surprise Sirius when she shot herself within an inch of his head.

Sirius reeled, spinning out of the way, eyes wide as had it been any other member of the Slytherin team, who played dirtier than they had in her time, Sirius would have gotten his head punted.

But Dalilah was more like a butterfly on the wind, and she had only ever knocked Draco off his daddy's broom once.

Sirius gaped at her, and she blew him a kiss as she darted back up.

She had spotted the snitch a few times, but she didn't want to be accused of stopping the game too early. As it was though, despite how nasty most of her teammates were, James Potter was an incredible flier and Sirius's agressive defence was rather effective.

Dalilah watched the scoreboard dip further and further toward a Gryffindor victory when her lovely Captain Douchebag, signalled at her to catch the snitch.

She leaned over her broom and chased the speck of gold, the wind swept over her soul, and for a time, she could forget all that ailed her.

Her in the sky, with her father and Sirius, she was free, she was herself. She was speed, and air, and had no responsibilities other than to play a game that was, unlike nearly everything else, not rigged against her.

Some people screamed as she dove straight for the ground, and Dalilah smiled.

James had the quaffle, he had to hand it to little Reggie, the kid wasn't bad, but James was the best.

He had his opening, central hoop, if he scored now Slytherin wouldn't have a prayer for catching up to them.

The quaffle released, shooting off his fingers, swooping perfectly through the hoop.

James spun around smiling, waiting for the roar from the stands.

A roar that never came.

James slowed in confusion as he realized the whole pitch had fallen silent. James glanced around at the other players who all floated suspended.

Sirius was gaping at something behind James like a fish.

James spun and his own jaw unhinged as Dalilah Bloody Evans sat perched on her broom sidesaddle, ankles crossed, looking like a self-satisfied cat with a snitch in her hands.

James had seen Lily Evans's first attempt on a broom, it had been endearing and he had never seen her near a broom again.

But Dalilah…

"Nice flying, Potter," Dalilah called to him, leaning on her broom as if she hadn't just spent the last hour exerting herself, "But you may want to work on your speed just a wee bit. You almost had it."

He didn't answer her, still trying to process how this had happened. He glanced at the scoreboard, their own seeker wasn't that skilled, decent but no star, for Dalilah to have caught the snitch at just the right moment… he had seen her flitting about the pitch but he hadn't thought she could be that good.

The crowd finally seemed to wake up, and a stupendous roar of applause echoed around the pitch. Slytherin in particular was losing it. James could see Slughorn on his feet, clapping his hand like a loon.

For the first time since James and Sirius had joined the team, Gryffindor had lost a match to Slytherin.

James felt like he was in some kind of nightmare as Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw cheered Slytherin on, the Undefeated Gryffindor Team, finally defeated, by one girl who was probably the only person in the school who could have caught the snitch strategically.

This failure meant that every other House had a chance of winning against Gryffindor.

James landed beside Sirius who was shaking his head as Slytherin zoomed about the pitch in a glory lap.

"She's a better flyer than you, Jamie," Sirius said under his breath.

James's jaw tightened and he tried not to give the girl a death glare as she landed. They had to teach her Transfiguration this week too.

Damnit.

Dalilah caught his gaze and blew him a kiss.

James shut his eyes; Damnit.

AN: 8k, please review, comment, or share your thoughts? Pretty please?