Written for Round Eight of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition,

Keeper, Chudley Cannons

Prompt: Write about someone who falls in with the wrong crowd.

W/C: 1951

Wrong Kind

It was well known by people around her that young Delphini was a very clever girl. She was quiet and reserved, and the cogs in her brain were always running. Her Aunt Isabel, who had brought her up since Delphi was a baby, would rather she talked some more.

Especially because she had hosted these flamboyant parties several times a year, and all Delphini would do, in the expensive clothes Isabel dressed her in and the lovely dark curls painstakingly tamed into a plait, was lurk in the corners — talking politely whenever necessary and staying aloof most of the time.

But Aunt Isabel loved her nevertheless, and everyone — including Isabel — had high hopes for her. Delphi was, after all, the daughter of the Dark Lord. She had been showing powerful accidental magic since she was a toddler, and even though she was yet to turn eleven, she could already control her magic.

Delphi was the best thing in Isabel's life right now and had been since her husband, Rabastan, and most of her family had been chucked into Azkaban for their dealings with the Dark Lord. Delphi would avenge them, Isabel would think with a hint of bitterness, leaving her niece to sleep. She would live up to her father's name and make them all proud.

*.*.*

Delphini Riddle was in a bit of a fix. For the first time in her life, she was out of the ridiculous Lestrange manor and among other people. While it was fascinating to hear so much noise and witness so many sights, she was also slightly intimidated. Or, well, highly intimidated. There was also the quasi-threat her aunt had whispered with Delphi's face clamped between her palms. Do not indulge yourself in the company of scum.

If Delphi had it her own way, she'd indulge herself in the company of no one. But that clearly wasn't an option, seeing as there were more young girls and boys around her than people she'd met in her entire life.

What did her aunt mean by scum anyway? Delphi remembered Isabel telling her about how they were Purebloods and hence better than other witches and wizards.

It's very stupid, Delphi had thought. So what if all her great-grandparents and even their grandparents were magical? Everyone knew about the famous Hermione Granger, and Delphi rather thought she was far better at magic than any of her snobby family.

Not that she would ever say that out loud to her aunt's face, of course. Her aunt loved her very much, her prejudices notwithstanding. Moreover, Delphi's opinions would wreak havoc in the household, and Delphi was a very peace-loving human. Everyone knew that.

With a sigh and expecting that this would take some time to get used to, Delphi tried to find herself an empty seat on the train. She found one with no one around, and for a few minutes, she sat next to the window, enjoying her solitude.

What she did not expect were the strange looks, but now that she thought about it, she should have. Many of the older students, and even some her age, shot weird glances at her as they passed by her. And they weren't the good kind of weird either, but looks that made her want to hide her face.

So she did. She turned away to look at the platform outside the window, thoughts running a mile a minute in her head. Of course they would be giving her strange looks. She was the child of Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange. Like her aunt had said, all of the wizarding kind knew about her. They had tried to keep her existence under wraps, but it failed when the War ended. She even had her mother's frizzy hair and her father's face. The one before he changed into his more demonic form.

To be honest, Delphi was slightly afraid of who her father might have been. Not only because he was almost all-powerful, but also because he killed people just because he didn't like them. They probably expected her to be like him; they had never told her outright, but Delphi could read her aunt as well as she could her books.

So of course the other students would be suspicious of her, if not scared. They'd view her as a potential threat, someone to avoid and be careful around. Honestly, Delphi rolled her eyes, she was eleven years old. She couldn't whip out her wand and kill them even if she wanted to. Even though her father probably could, she wasn't her father.

She wondered vaguely if she would have to work even harder to make friends. Obviously, she could live without any friends, but she felt that it was high time she had some good influence in her life. She would like to think that she thought differently from the people she lived with, but she would also like it if she had someone who thought like her. Most people now probably did, but not everyone would want to be friends with her.

She sighed, once again reminded of her aunt's words. She wasn't going to abide by them, of course. Aunt Isabel had been worried that Delphini could be influenced by the 'wrong kind.'

That made Delphi smile. She was very hard to influence, if she said so herself and if only Aunt Isabel knew. She'd lived with people who hated other folks if their blood wasn't magical enough, and she had yet to think the same way as them.

"Um — excuse me?"

Delphini looked up to find a pair of students standing next to the door. One of them was a girl with short dark hair and bright eyes, and the other a boy with freckles all over his face and the same eyes as the girl.

"Can we join you?" the boy asked.

"Everywhere else is full," the girl added.

Delphi was a bit surprised, and she was sure it showed. A minute ago, she was thinking people would hate her. Maybe these two hadn't recognised her just yet. Or they didn't know who she was.

Hope bubbled inside her, but Delphi quickly pushed it down. They'd know soon enough.

"Sure," she said, giving a little nod. Might as well try to be friendly while they were still ignorant, she thought darkly.

"Thanks!" they said together.

"I'm Willow, by the way," said the girl, sticking out her hand and beaming at Delphi as she sat down next to her.

"And I'm George," said the boy, sticking out his hand as well.

"Um, hello," said Delphi, feeling a bit overwhelmed and wondering if she should say her name.

"I'm D-Delphi," she replied finally, swallowing the lump in her throat. If either Willow or George finally recognised her, they did not show it.

"Nice to meet you." George grinned. "Are you a First Year too?"

Delphini nodded.

"D'you know which house you'd like to go into?" Willow's expression made Delphi want to ask her if her eyes were always that bright.

Not Slytherin, she prayed internally. "Not really," she said out loud. "Anything will do, I guess."

"That's what I say too," George quipped. "But Willow here is rather obsessed with Gryffindor — "

Willow pouted at her twin. "I'm not obsessed, George. I just think Gryffindors are cool."

Delphi giggled at the exchange. Willow shook her head and looked at her.

"Don't listen to George," she said. "He thinks he's very funny."

"Delphi thinks so too, don't you, Delph?"

Delphini tried not to glare at George. "Don't call me Delph."

"Sorry." George smiled wickedly. "Delph."

Willow poked his knee. "Stop it, you punk." Then she turned to Delphi again. "Anyway, have you seen any of our textbooks, then?"

"Yeah," Delphi replied. The warm feeling inside her was back. Willow and George were unlike anyone she'd met before. Maybe, she prayed, she could be friends with them. "Charms sounds cool. And Transfiguration too."

"I'm looking forward to Herbology," said George. "I wonder what kind of magical plants there are. Willow and I are Muggle-born, by the way, did you know?"

Delphi did not know what to think of that. At least that explained why they did not know who she was or who her parents were. But there was also the probability that once they did find out, they'd be even more scared of her.

"I — um — wow, that's cool. I think it's very interesting how Muggles live without magic. How do they, really?"

Willow grinned widely. "We're used to it," she winked. "But I can't wait to live with magic now. George here bought three books from Diagon Alley about the Wizarding World and I've read them all cover to cover!"

Delphi's heart thudded against her ribs when she looked at George across from her. He was squinting at her, almost as though he knew who she was —

"Speaking of," he said, "you wouldn't be Delphini Riddle, would you?"

Delphi's ears grew hot and filled with a loud buzzing noise as she stared blankly from Willow to George. Willow's eyes had gone round as Gobstones.

"I — yes," she said in a tiny voice.

"Ha!" George slapped his knee. "I knew your name sounded familiar. And A History of Wizardkind said you were born in 1997. So were we!"

"Hmm," said Willow. "But you don't look half as mean as they say in those books, though."

Now Delphi's eyes went round. She'd expected them to be scared, disgusted, angry even. Not curious, judging from how George was tapping his fingers on his thigh like he had more questions for her.

"You're — you're OK?" she could not help asking. "I mean, you're not scared of me?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't think you could hurt us if you wanted you. You are so small and skinny and innocent-looking. Except for your eyes. They're intense."

"But my father killed Muggle-borns for the fun of it!"

"And he's dead," said George in a deadpan.

"You people are way too nice." Delphi shook her head disbelievingly.

"Our mother says the same thing," Willow laughed. "She thinks it could get us in trouble."

"So you're not afraid of me?"

"Not in the least."

And then Willow proceeded to narrate how George had once taken down their cousin with his punches, and Delphi beamed to herself. It was unreal how quickly they had dropped the topic of her identity and how friendly they seemed to be with her.

"Are you alright, Delphi?" Willow asked, looking at her smile. "You look like you've gone slightly mad."

Delphini shook her head, wondering how Aunt Isabel and the rest of her family could think people like Willow and George were the 'wrong crowd' or what she called 'scum.' Next time Delphi went home, she'd try to convince Isabel that she had the wrong idea, and if she remained stubborn — like Delphi assumed she would be — then Delphi would rather mix with the wrong kind than try to make peace with her stuck-up Pureblood relatives.

*.*.*

"They're Muggle-borns, by the way. You never told me Muggle-borns are so cool. They know how to operate televisions and conjure fire out of the air."

Aunt Isabel looked at Delphi like she'd grown ten heads, and Delphi savagely enjoyed her aunt's inner turmoil as they walked over to the pillar that would lead them back to Kings' Cross.

"You little — "

'Stuck-up' is right, Delphi thought, pushing Aunt Isabel's angry voice to the back of her head and turning around. She caught Willow's eye over the shoulders of several other students, and winked at her.

Delphi couldn't wait until Christmas was over.