"A werewolf? You've got to be joking."
"No, Daphne it makes total sense! Think about it," Delilah said, grabbing her wand out of her pocket. "Colloportus!"
The lock on the door clicked and Delilah turned around to face her best friend, who was staring bewilderedly at her.
"Listen. Lupin is ill all the time! And have you noticed it's about once a month?"
"Okay, well maybe he's just one of those who get sick easily-"
"No, he's not. Look, I went back and marked every full moon for the past few months and it's always been when he's ill. Dumbledore himself said Lupin was ill at Christmas, and look at the full moon for December," Delilah said, pulling the chart she had made from under her bed. She pointed roughly to the full moon that had fallen on Christmas.
"Alright, so he's ill around the full moon. So what? What else have you got to say?"
"Remember when we did boggarts in class? Well, when Blaise asked what his was, he showed us and it was the moon! Why else would he be afraid of the moon?" Delilah pressed, crossing her arms and staring at her best friend.
"Well," started Daphne, "I suppose that is a rather odd fear..."
"Exactly. And it's no secret Snape loathes Lupin. I mean, look at the way he glares at him. Plus, he's still mad about the Gryffindor's lesson where Lupin told Longbottom to imagine him wearing a dress. When Snape taught for us, he set us an essay on werewolves. Don't you think it's a little weird that he covers a chapter at the end of the book when we weren't even done with first term?"
"Well, I'll admit that is odd, but-"
"But nothing! Just wait until the next full moon, and you'll see that he'll have mysteriously fallen ill. And, read the chapters on werewolves in here, it'll convince you," Delilah interjected, tossing Daphne her copy of The Monsterous Book of Monsters with the belt clasped round it.
"Oh, alright. But I still think you're mad."
Classes resumed the next day. The last thing Delilah wanted to do was spend two hours on the frozen grounds on an early January morning, but she still marched down to Hagrid's hut along with the other third years for Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid made a bonfire full of bright red salamanders, scampering around the fire. They spent the freezing lesson walking around gathering dry wood and leaves to toss into the fire while the little lizards hurried up and down the fiery logs.
The first divination lesson was much less fun. Professor Trelawney had advanced to teaching them palmistry now, and had forced them to hold the hand of their partner, attempting to read the lines covering their palms.
With Harry's hand held reluctantly in her hand, Delilah hopelessly consulted the book propped between the two of them.
"I don't understand any of this rubbish," Delilah hissed, flipping the pages in annoyance. "I think this line in the middle here is your head line. It's really long, so it says you'll explore lots of topics in life, that's good I suppose.."
"Yeah, I guess."
After lunch, the Slytherins headed down to the cold dungeons, with many of them wearing their puffy winter coats under their long black school robes.
The dungeon was so cold they could see their breath in front of them. With no promise of Christmas holidays around the corner, the cold was much less welcoming as the Slytherins shivered with Snape swept around the room, his black robes billowing.
They were making a new potion today, the Confusing Concoction. After a lesson involving a lot of Snape correcting Crabbe and Goyle, the students scooped their potions and brought them to the front for grading.
"You go ahead. I'm going to ask him a question about uncommon poisons," Delilah said to to Daphne, who was waiting for her as she gathered her things.
"Alright, see you around," Daphne replied, hurrying to catch up to Draco and Pansy.
"Professor, I wanted to thank you. For the gift you got me," Delilah said quietly as she approached Snape's desk.
"What are you on about?" Snape hissed, looking down at her questioningly.
"The book, sir. On occlumency. The note said I was far along enough to utilize it well. I thought it must be from you," Delilah frowned.
"No, not me. It must be someone else ever so interested in your studies. Run along now, I have a class coming," Snape barked, although Delilah noticed he wouldn't meet her eyes.
A week after the start of term, the Slytherin team played Ravenclaw in a very long, wet, and windy match. When Draco finally caught the snitch after two and a half hours, Delilah felt relieved, but Marcus Flint was furious. The Slytherins barely beat the Ravenclaws, with the match ending in a score of 320-310. Because of this, their practices increased to five times a week, no matter the weather. Between Quidditch practices and her lessons with Snape once a week, Delilah had only one night a week to do her homework.
"How long does this Undetectable Poisons essay have to be again?" Delilah questioned, the furious scratching of her quill filling the quiet common room.
"Two feet," Daphne yawned from the seat beside her. It was very late. The clock above the fireplace read half past one in the morning, and the two girls were the only two left in the common room.
"Thanks. Ugh, I've still got to fill out that stupid palmistry guide tonight," Delilah groaned, looking up at Daphne. Her eyes were shut, and her head leaned back uncomfortably against the armchair.
"Go to bed. Seriously, I'll be fine."
"You don't have to tell me twice. Goodnight," Daphne yawned, tossing Delilah her knit blanket and disappearing up the staircase leading towards their dormitory.
Pulling the blanket tightly around herself, Delilah continued to write messily about the antidotes to Undetectable Poisons, and then grabbed her palmistry chart from deep within her bag.
When the clock finally ticked past three in the morning, Delilah set her quill down, pushing the just finished palmistry chart away. Pulling the blanket up to her chin, Delilah leaned back into the chair, resting her heavy eyes for just a moment.
Professor Snape was holding a large, fading map, squinting at it under the purple twilight sky. Behind him, the twisting branches of the whomping willow swung threateningly.
Suddenly, Professor Snape broke into a run, chasing a giant black dog. The branches of the willow paused ominously at the same moment a wolf howled loudly.
"Oi! Get up! We've got double History of Magic!" said Draco, shaking Delilah's shoulders.
"Oh, why couldn't you just leave me sleeping then," Delilah groaned, the memory of the dream fading quickly from her mind.
Later that month, The Slytherins walked into their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, expecting an exciting lesson about dark creatures from Professor Lupin. Instead, the strict looking Professor McGonagall was waiting behind the teacher's desk, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"I told you! He's gone, and it's the full moon tonight. Watch, when I ask she'll say he's ill!" Delilah softly exclaimed as she took her seat beside Daphne near the front of the room.
"Well, go on then," Daphne muttered as she took out her book and wand.
"Professor? Where's Professor Lupin?"
"The poor man is ill again, I am afraid. I will be taking over only for today," Professor McGonagall explained, the textbook open in front of her. "Now, what chapter is it you're on?"
When Professor Lupin returned, looking shabbier than ever, Daphne seemed convinced.
"Oh, all right," she said later that night in the library. "It seems like all signs point to him being a werewolf. So what? He's a great professor. I think we have a shot at making O's on our exam this year."
"I know that. Still, werewolves can be quite dangerous. But, it seems like they've got it under control..."
A cold January faded into an equally as bitter February. The snow was showing no signs of stopping, with the rooftops constantly being dusted with the white powder and the grounds frozen solid.
Halfway through February, as Delilah sat quizzing Cedric for his Transfiguration O.W.L in the library, sneaking little kisses between questions outside the watchful gaze of Madam Pince, Draco ran into the quiet room.
"No running in here!" shrieked Madam Pince, but Draco paid her no mind. He plopped down in the open chair beside Delilah, panting as if he had ran up several of the moving staircases.
"You'll never guess what Marcus' just told me," Draco sighed, catching his breath.
"What?" questioned Delilah, shutting the heavy A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration.
"Potter's got a Firebolt. He's got no idea how, but Gryffindor's surely to flatten Ravenclaw in the next match with that broom," Draco snarled.
"Hello, Draco," Cedric spoke, kindly smiling at him. Draco shot him a disgruntled look.
"Diggory. Anyway, I've got an idea."
"What is it? It better not involve some hare brained scheme at the match," Delilah rolled her eyes, staring intently at her brother.
"Sometimes, I think you can read my mind."
Delilah blushed deeply and avoided his eyes.
"Anyway, Crabbe, Goyle, and I are going to dress as dementors for the next match, to try and scare Potter. You know how he's terrified of the things, that git. I was hoping you'd be up to joining us. I know you hate Potter nearly as much as me," Draco smirked.
"You know, I think I'm going to have to miss out on this one. When you get caught, and I promise you you will, you'll get detention, probably for weeks. You know how Dumbledore freaked out at the dementors being there at Ced's match against Gryffindor. I've barely got enough time to eat and sleep as it is, let alone serving detention three times a week," Delilah critiqued, crossing her arms. "You're an idiot if you do it."
"Ced?" Draco hissed, looking positively disgusted. "Well, whatever. If you won't do it, I'm sure Pansy will." He stood up, looking down at Delilah. "Enjoy your snogging, I mean study session."
"I will," Delilah shot back as Draco rolled his eyes and strutted out of the library.
"He's pleasant," said Cedric. watching Draco's retreating back.
"Tell me about it."
Since Hufflepuff was almost certainly out of the running for the Quidditch Cup, Cedric had began to attend Delilah's practices, cheering her on in the stands and waiting with a cup of steaming tea he bewitched to stay warm after every practice.
The night before Gryffindor's match against Ravenclaw, Cedric waved at her from beneath his many layers of coats and scarves as she flew down to join the team in a huddle. She smiled warmly and waved back.
"You're going to make me sick," Draco whined, looking as if he'd smelled something very bad.
"Shut it," Delilah joked, elbowing Draco sharply in the ribs as Marcus started to talk.
"I want you all here tomorrow watching the entire match. We need to see how Potter flies on that Firebolt, no matter how he got the damn thing. Also, I know that all of you, save Delilah, are going to be participating in Draco's little plan for tomorrow, to hopefully throw Potter off. Maybe we'll get lucky and that tree will destroy the broom again. Anyway, I've got the black hooded robes we can wear for it. Don't forget to meet here before the match."
"You're all ridiculous and going to get caught, just so you know," Delilah said to the team as they walked to the locker rooms.
"It'll all be worth it. Just to see Potter squirm," smirked Draco.
At breakfast the next morning, the Gryffindor team looked in high spirits. When Harry entered the Great Hall, all heads turned toward him, gaping at the Firebolt. An excited murmur spread amongst the students. Her mouth open in awe that the rumors were really true, Delilah glanced down the table at all her Slytherin teammates who looked equally as thunderstruck.
"So it's true then," Draco smirked from across the table, turning back around to face Delilah. "Saint Potter's got the Firebolt. Not that it'll matter, after he faints from the dementors again." He smirked.
"I still think that's a horrible idea," Delilah interjected with a frown. "Dumbledore will be furious."
"Whats gotten into you? I thought you hated Potter as much as I do," drawled Draco, standing and beckoning for his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, to stand with him. "I fancy seeing that broom up close."
And with that, the three boys walked away toward the Gryffindor table.
"You agree don't you? It's a bad idea?" Delilah asked Daphne and Pansy as she nibbled her toast.
"Well yeah. Dumbledore will be furious."
"I don't think it's a bad idea," smirked Pansy. "I'm going to be helping Draco out myself."
"Right," Delilah said, rolling her eyes.
At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams set off for the locker rooms, signaling the rest of the students to move towards the stands. It was a calm, clear day with a very soft, light breeze.
In the Entrance Hall, Pansy took off with Draco and the rest of the Slytherin team, donning black hooded cloaks. Cedric walked up behind Daphne and Delilah, and the three of them set off for the Quidditch Pitch together.
"So they're really doing it then?" Cedric questioned as they climbed into the high rise stands together.
"It seems that way," Delilah confirmed.
The three of them found seats right in the front row, settled between some cheering Ravenclaw first years. With the breeze, it was a bit chilly, and Delilah regretted not bringing her scarf.
"You look cold," Cedric frowned, pulling off his yellow Hufflepuff scarf and wrapping it gently around Delilah's neck.
Delilah felt suddenly much warmer.
Just then, the two Quidditch teams, a sea of deep blue and crimson, walked onto the fields to tumultuous applause. The teams walked to the middle of the field, and stopped with Madam Hooch in between them. The two minuscule captains shook hands, and the fourteen players kicked off the ground and soared into the blue sky.
Immediately, the commentary, done by a very biased Gryffindor fifth year Delilah didn't know, began.
"And they're off, folks. The big talk of this match is Gryffindor seeker, Harry Potter'a, new broom. A Firebolt! According to Which Broomstick, The Firebolt will be the broom of choice for the Quidditch World Cup this year!"
"Jordan, this isn't a Firebolt advert! Tell us what's happening in the match!" boomed Professor McGonagall's stern voice.
"Sorry, Professor. Just giving a bit of background information. Incidentally, the Firebolt has a built on breaking system, as well as-"
"LEE JORDAN!"
Cedric glanced at Delilah and said very loudly over Professor Mcgonagall's booming voice, "I'd sell all my belongings to get my hands on one of those brooms!"
Delilah nodded in agreement, her eyes darting back and forth, watching the chasers shoot across the pitch. Her leg shook nervously at the fact that Ravenclaw had to win this match to put Gryffindor out of the running. And so far, they weren't doing such a good job.
"Alright so it's Gryffindor in possession with Katie Bell, Gryffindor chaser, heading toward the goalposts. A nice dodge there by Katie! And she scores!! Gryffindor leads by ten points!"
Across the field, Delilah saw a sea of crimson erupt into tumultuous applause, with loud shouting cheers. Her heart sunk and she felt very nervous indeed.
After that, Gryffindor scored seven more goals. With each announcement of the increasing score, Delilah's head sank into her hands as Cedric patted her back reassuringly.
"Gryffindor leads by eighty points! Look at that Firebolt go!"
Above, Harry Potter was darting all around the field, dodging the pelting bludgers. The broom moved with such speed he was merely a scarlet blur.
"Potter's really flying up there! Cho Chang's comet is just no use."
"JORDAN! Are you being paid to advertise Firebolt? Get on with the commentary!"
Ravenclaw was gaining on Gryffindor, causing Delilah to scream and cheer with excitement every time the Ravenclaw chasers scored a goal. Gryffindor was now only fifty points ahead.
Harry and Cho suddenly both steered into a steep dive, pelting towards the Gryffindor goal post. Harry, a scarlet blur, swerved quickly to avoid colliding with Cho, a blur of navy. The sounds of disappointed Gryffindors and excited Ravenclaws boomed in Delilah's ears.
From then on out, it seemed that Cho had made it her priority to trail Harry. With every turn of the Firebolt, Cho was right on his heels.
Suddenly, Harry pulled into a steep dive, and Cho followed. Harry yanked his broom upwards as Cho continued to hurtle downwards.
"A nice fake out by Gryffindor seeker, Harry Potter! He's putting that new broom to use!"
Up above the ground, Harry was pelting towards the Ravenclaw goal posts, and this time, it seemed he moved with purpose. In the stands, there were many gasps as everyone around Delilah pointed down at the ground.
"I can't believe they actually did it," Cedric commented, his face in his hands. Delilah shook her head in disbelief as Daphne gasped.
A large crowd of what appeared to be dementors were gathered below Harry. The black hoods covered the faces that Delilah knew to be the majority of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
Up above, Harry plunged his hand beneath his robes, and whipped out a tiny wand, pointing it at the supposed dementors. Something silvery-white shot out of his wand and hit one of the cloaked figures directly in the chest. It fell to the ground as the others suddenly scattered, running off in different directions.
"I knew this would happen. They look like absolute idiots," Delilah said, peering down at the scurrying figures.
Meanwhile, the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle cut through the stunned silence. Harry Potter had caught the snitch and the Gryffindor team bore down upon him in a giant mass of scarlet.
"Great. We'll have a real problem beating them in the Quidditch final," Delilah moaned, leaning her head into Cedric's toned shoulder.
"You'll have a shot, I promise," he shouted over the chanting Gryffindor's in the stands.
The Gryffindor supporters rushed the field while an angry looking Professor McGonagall rounded up the running hooded figures. Some of them had escaped, but Marcus Flint was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground while Hagrid brought over Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle by their collars.
Peering down, Delilah had never seen the tight lipped Mcgonagall looking so furious. Delilah thought they would be lucky to even be alive to play in the Quidditch final.
Later that night, the Slytherins sat somberly in their common room, sour knowing that a party was likely raging on in Gryffindor tower.
"Detention and fifty points from Slytherin? Honestly, you're lucky you're not expelled," Delilah scolded, her quill furiously scratching as she worked on a particularly nasty essay for Professor Snape.
"I know. And stupid Potter didn't even flinch. I'd like to know where he learned that spell," Draco sneered, looking furious.
A loud grinding noise indicated that the blank wall was opening, shedding warm light into the common room. As it was well past curfew, everyones heads snapped towards the lights.
An annoyed looking Professor Snape was standing silhouetted against the doorway, his face sneering down at them. He moved into the center of the common room as silence fell on all the students, their eyes set on him.
"No one is to leave this common room under any circumstances. Not even for what you deem as an emergency. Sirius Black was spotted in the castle moments ago."