Author's Notes: So it has been a month… a whole freaking month since I last updated this story and you amazing people have not deserted me. You actually left amazing reviews and for that I am incredibly thankful.
Sorry for taking so long, but, as some of you may have noticed, I went on a writing spree during March and my studies suffered a bit, so I had to cut down on writing to make up for the delay. I've also started working at the hospital, and my schedule is a bit different now, and I'm still getting used to being on call for a whole day, and basically real life got in the way and I'm all out of excuses for making you wait so long.
Thanking the amazing mrudulakm, who left me a really cool review but that has disabled PMs, and the no less amazing Guest that pointed out a very important detail in all this. Harry's rapport with Delphini *wink, nudge, wink*
Also a huge, immense thank you to ElectraCute, who has produced two works of fan art inspired by this fic. I can't link it here, because this is , but you can look for my story on AO3 and find the pieces under 'Related Works' at the bottom. Go check them out, don't forget to thank the author ;)
Now, let's move on to the chapter. I hope you enjoy it (I secretly hope for reviews). By the way, this is going to be 50 chapters long, give or take a bit. So about seven more to go.
Word count – 6.083
Malfoy Manor, December 31st, 2011
Uncle Lucius comes looking for her in her bedroom. She is sitting cross-legged on the floor, before the fireplace, sitting sideways to the flames. Delphini raises her eyes from her Care of Magical Creatures course book, pulling her curls up into a ponytail that lasts only a second, before she lets them down in all their glory. There's a glint in her Uncle's eyes that she has come to know as the 'your Mother used to do that' look. She thinks it curious that there isn't one that concerns her Father too.
"There's a matter that needs to be tended to," he tells her as he takes a seat on the armchair before the fireplace, "but first, you should know that I'm proud of you. What you did for Scorpius, what you did for Draco…" He doesn't finish the sentence, letting the words linger in the air, setting slowly.
"Don't mention it. They're family, you're family. You do what you have to do for your family."
Uncle Lucius doesn't smile. No, he adopts the smug smirk-that's-not-a-smirk of superiority only he possesses. And Delphini smiles brightly, for the both of them, for that smirk means all the pride and all the love he cannot express through words.
Still, there's something they need to talk about. And that changes his features to a stern mask.
"Your behaviour at Hogwarts, Delphini, seems to be lacking in moderation."
"Don't worry," her bright smile has evaporated now, "I'll stop. You have enough to worry about in here, I won't add to your concerns." She closes the book, using a white peacock feather to mark the page, caressing the leather biding. She thinks this book is much better. The one from last year bit.
"Thank you, sweet star of darkness," his sternness is gone, as he raises from his seat, "for everything." He caresses her curls and then her cheek and she can't help but lean into his hand. Then he says,
"You do realize there's a tradition in this family. You become a Prefect in your fifth year." There's an honestly amused smile on his lips. Hers is the cheekiest she can manage.
"That's a Malfoy tradition. Last time I checked, I was a Lestrange."
She can't help but notice the half-a-moment-long shimmer of anxiety in her Uncle's eyes. But it vanishes immediately. So does her smile. Delphini fears she has hurt him.
"I'm sorry, that was crass."
"I'll have none of your apologies," when she turns her eyes up to him, he's looking at her the same way Aunt Narcissa does when she thinks no one's watching, "you know what you are to me. You know I think of you as much more than my niece, no matter your surname."
Her eyes well with emotion. Her eyes turn grey. In a rare occurrence, she forgets about handling her books with care, and gets up hastily. She hugs him, and he holds her as close as he can, breathing in the scent of her hair as he plants a light kiss on her forehead.
"Just promise me you'll behave tonight, watch over Scorpius and his Crup, and make sure your friends leave the peacocks alone." She giggles into his robes. As long as they're not caught, chasing peacocks will always be on their to do list.
"I'll behave. So will Scorpius, and Nala. I'll just finish my assignment, and then I'll get ready. I'll be welcoming guests with you and Aunt Cissa at the door."
X
She is there, later, by their side. Clad in dark blue brocade, cut to be sharp around her figure, making her look regal and a bit beyond her years, but the glint in her eyes reminds everyone of the mischievous fourteen year old witch that talked her friends into flying furniture through the hallways of Hogwarts. The bird skull removed for once, the constellation necklace sits on her neck, shimmering in the light, earning compliments on its beauty, on how it suits her.
She greets every guest politely. Draco is by her side, with a hand on Scorpius' shoulder. The little boy keeps pulling at his collar, Narcissa fixes it every now and then. He's impatient, he wants to go and play with the other children, all equally dressed in miniature versions of very proper adults, all pulling and pushing at the places where their attire isn't quite as loose as they would like.
Once everyone is inside, Delphini takes Scorpius upstairs, to kiss his Mother goodnight. Astoria is still very pale, and the healer hasn't allowed her to walk about as usual yet, so she'll rest while the guests celebrate the New Year downstairs. Nala will keep her company, an assurance that the Crup won't chew on anyone's shoes or destroy yet another chair.
Delphini is sure Draco will find a way to evade the party and come spend midnight with Astoria anyway, so she takes it upon herself to keep an eye on Scorpius. Mostly, she worries about him hearing the rumours, the mean whispers that she hears at the fringes of the party. Rumours dark and cloy. Rumours that go quiet once she approaches. But she hears bits just the same. And once they go quiet, she can still hear them in the guests' minds.
"He's supposed to be the Dark Lord's, you know?"
They never really gave up on the cause.
"They used a Time Turner to send her back."
They were already raising the Lestrange girl, but that wasn't enough for the Malfoys.
"Why do you think she was so sick when she was pregnant? It was his seed."
Serves her right for all that ambition. Serves them all right that she is going to die.
"That's why she's not here. She's too sick because of it."
He looks quite normal, but so did Tom Riddle, they say.
"You don't suppose they did it again, do you?"
I do. But it didn't stick this time around. That will teach them.
Her mind is racing through possible meanings. The pictures in their minds speak of the unthinkable, of the unmentionable, of something that, should it be true, would have all of her family locked in that place Uncle Lucius would rather not speak of.
Above anything, her mind is reeling with ideas and plans to keep Scorpius away from these people. Aunt Narcissa knows, too. They exchange a look, across the ballroom, and Delphini knows she knows. It becomes easier after midnight, shielding Scorpius from the gossip. The spirits have flowed for a while then, minds are slurred, and tongues are heavier. But no less sharp for it.
The rumours die after a very drunk middle-aged wizard, and his notorious circumference of a waist, stumble too close to Uncle Lucius, making jokes about his daughter-in-law 'after-hours affair with Lord Voldemort', and inquiring about 'little lord Malfoy' and whether he would follow his father's footsteps or not.
Uncle Lucius' glare is absolutely murderous, and the wizard suddenly remembers who he used to be, what he used to do. Delphini sees it clearly in the man's mind. She feels like murdering him herself, but only before the picture of a dead House-Elf startles her conscience. She is just thankful Scorpius is outside tormenting the white birds. She is just thankful Draco is upstairs already, because something tells her they would not be able to stop him.
The celebration fades quickly after the incident. The well-meaning guests offer words of comfort and their disdain for the sharped-tongued people attending, but the mood is gone. Delphini stands with Aunt Narcissa at the door, thanking people for coming, wishing a Happy New Year to everyone, hugging her friends despite protocol.
When they are all gone, she searches the gardens and the house, looking for her little cousin. She finds him curled up on an armchair, and immediately thinks that he must have heard something. That maybe the children his age reproduced something said by their parents. She rushes to his side, caressing his blond hair as she goes, but all she finds is a sleeping boy wrapped around a Crup.
She levitates his sleeping body upstairs, all the way to his bed, a happy little Nala swiftly following in her steps, jumping in bed and under the sheets as well. When Delphini turns around, Draco is smirking by the doorjamb.
"You do realize that's dangerous? Not to mention illegal? You could have dropped him."
"We both know that the Ministry traces are easy to confound. And that I'm very good at levitating people." She smiles broadly, as she points her wand at her shoes and levitates herself out of the room, a whole foot off the floor.
Draco attempts to hide his laughter, but fails miserably. Delphini is just happy that she's managed to lift the mood on this wing of the manor.
"Happy New Year, Draco!"
"Happy New Year, little bird! Sleep tight."
She takes one last glance over her shoulder, before she takes a corner and the sight of him is no longer there. The warmth of his thoughts remains, though, and Delphini floats on it on her way to her own bedroom.
She puts her palm to the mahogany doors. She doesn't know why her door works like that, but she likes that it's the only one that does. Just before she closes it shut behind her, Aunt Narcissa is there, stopping it.
Delphini turns back and smiles. But her aunt does not smile back.
"Those rumours, Delphini, those things you heard just now at the party," her eyes look deeply into hers, telling her to pay close attention, "they may follow you back to Hogwarts…"
"Don't worry, I won't lose control over silly rumours."
Her curls are tucked behind her right ear by a gentle hand. A pair of silken lips kiss her forehead.
"Just be careful, Delphie."
She can tell there's a heavy weight behind those words, mountains left unsaid somehow. But that is a conversation for another time.
So she changes into her long nightgown and takes Guivre from its branch. The snake is happy that she's home for a few days, and finds its way into her warm bed every night anyway, so she decides to just let him coil around her tonight. Her Kneazle is happy to stay at the end of the bed, and the raven feels too much like a meal around the both of them to even approach the bed. Delphini slides in under the covers, hugging her soft pillow, and falls asleep to the feeling of scales against her skin and the smell of roses.
X
King's Cross Station, January 3rd, 2012
She hugs Scorpius one last time, holding him much longer, and much tighter. Draco has taken a couple of steps away from the, giving them space. It's just the three of them this time.
"It will be alright, Scorpius. If you can't sleep, I made more Dreamless Sleep with Draco. Ask him to give you some. I also made Draught of Peace, I left it in the top drawer of your nightstand for when you wake up from your nightmares." She is holding his chin up, so that they can hold each other's gaze as she reassures him, "I'll write to you every week, and you need to write back so that I know you're doing alright. If you don't, I'll get my broomstick and fly home, do you hear me? If you need me to come home, tell me, I'll get a permission out of McGonagall."
"And if she says no?"
"I'll charm a bed and fly it home just to teach her."
He giggles, and she's happy that she could make him smile. He desperately needs some happiness.
She needs people to stop staring. It isn't just at her that they are staring this time. It isn't just her that's being observed. The rumours are making their rounds through wizarding society, it seems, and she does not like it. They are malicious. They are hurting her family, and she feels compelled to send them on their way sooner rather than later. She doesn't want to expose Scorpius to anymore of this.
"Now you, Draco" she says, turning to her cousin, walking to him, "you need to write to me too. Let me know how Astoria is doing, and let me know how you are." Her voice is commanding and unapologetic. These two have been hiding far too much, and she won't have it anymore.
"I have a feeling Darkie may just decide to reside at the Manor and retire from his courier duties." He doesn't smile, but it's close enough, and she can compromise, for now.
"Let him. Feed him treats and reward him for desertion for all I care, but send an owl to me!"
X
Hogwarts, March 10th, 2012
The rumours are here. She can sometimes hear the gossip, but her peers have learnt to keep them quiet around her. A whole series of unfortunate events has befallen a certain group of defiant students, and although the entire school knows it's her wand that bears the signature, they cannot actually accuse her of anything. She makes sure of it.
She has just emerged from the Chamber. It is her place of election when she needs to calm her mind, to feel cold water on her skin so as to keep her magic from simply reacting. She is also finding her way to the Astronomy Tower more often than not these nights, and the Baron actually worries about her destroyed sleeping schedule, but the usual potions don't do much anymore.
It's the dreams. The usual ones and the ones the rumours have created. The ones where Astoria dies and she can't convince Scorpius it wasn't his fault. The one where the Ministry and Auror Potter come for her family, to take Draco away, to take Uncle Lucius to Azkaban again, to forbid her from ever seeing Aunt Narcissa again. She always casts silencing spells on her bed, but she worries they may falter, she worries her dorm mates, her friends, will notice something is off. So, some nights, she sleeps in the Chamber as well.
So she takes her frustration out every Friday at the duelling club. She beats one opponent after the other, careful to restrain her magic, careful to keep from getting carried away in the heat of the fight.
That keeps her up too. She likes the fight. It's not that she likes to hurt the others, but she likes victory, she likes the power that comes from it. That is what eventually quiets the rumours in the Common Room. The House of Slytherin comes to a clear understanding that Spring. Delphini is not to be messed with. Delphini can make them pay and get away with it. The students Delphini makes pay for their unwise words never talk of her actions. They simply become afraid, respectful, some even become reverent.
The faculty has noticed it too. She walks differently now. There's a commanding stance to her gait, power in her eyes. But they are used to the Houses having natural leaders that embody the virtues of each founder, and a Slytherin queen is nothing new. Delphini has seen it in their minds, capturing their thoughts during meals at the Great Hall. They also know about the rumours, and it is perfectly logical for them that she would shield herself against them, wear her poise and her upbringing as armour. They all think so. All but Headmistress McGonagall, who is quite sure that something is off, and very uncomfortable about the fact that she can't put her finger on it.
Teddy worries. A lot. He can see her cracks, he knows her better than anyone at Hogwarts. He sees the dark circles under her eyes; he notices how her uniform doesn't suit her as pristinely as it usually does. He keeps feeding her, small portions at a time, like one does a sick relative. A biscuit here, a glass of milk there, a square of chocolate dropped in her pocket, a piece of fruit left by her books in the library. He is the only one she allows in, but always keeping him at bay from the real issues. Even her friends see only her veneer these days.
But today, Delphini is throwing all that to the wind. It's early, very early. The sun is just starting to creep up to the hallways, still immersed in slumber. She treads her path back to the dungeons. She will shower, for a long time, lavishing in soap and shampoo, then dress for breakfast, and write a letter home, to Scorpius.
Astoria is doing much better, they tell her in their letters, but much better seems to go no further than what she used to be like when Scorpius was little. The curse was allowed a way back in, and it won't let go this time. Delphini knows it, and so do they, but no one puts a quill to that fear. So she inquires only about the good things, hoping that she can shield the little boy from reality with nothing but happy thoughts. It doesn't work that way, she knows, but she must try.
Her housemates make some remarks about her choice of clothing today. She had already used it for the November match of Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw, but the yellow and black sweater is still riling up feathers amongst the snakes. A glare from her and they all know not to mention it again. Her relationship with Teddy is not their business. He wears green to Slytherin matches, she wears yellow to Hufflepuff's. Matters are not made easier by the fact that both the lions and the eagles have fallen behind on the Quidditch Cup this year already, which means the Slytherins are all sort of cheering for Gryffindor this time.
The match will clear her head she knows. Maybe it will even raise her spirits. If Quidditch doesn't work, she is sending Teddy to Hogsmeade the following day, so that he can spend all of her money on stuff that will drive Filch up the walls every day until Easter break. She can't go. Flying beds through the corridors earned her detention every Sunday until the end of the year, a ban from Hogsmeade visits, and an ever growing pile of extra homework. It seems Professor Slughorn thinks that as long as she is busy studying, she won't have the time to plan another stunt. Her accomplices are serving the same sentence, but the faculty has been extremely diligent with detention, making sure that they are never assigned the same task simultaneously. They don't really trust the lot of them together anymore.
Hufflepuff wins and the Slytherins take a moment to do the maths concerning the Cup, right before they forget all about it and indulge in mocking the Gryffindors relentlessly for a week straight. Delphini makes her contribution by charming badgers showing lions getting hit by a yellow Bludger with blue hair to move, and to change to 'Gryffs are Gone' when tossed at a wall.
At the end of the week, Delphini is awake in her bed, wishing for a night without dreams. Missing home like she never has before. She does manage to fall asleep on her own, but the nightmares come barging through her mind. From the blood and smoke emerges an image of Astoria lying in her bed, much too pale, much too still, while Scorpius sobs so painfully in a corner that Delphini awakes with a gasp. There are tears flowing freely down her face. She reinforces the spells on the closed curtains of her bed and allows her fear to run out of her in sobs of her own. When they still, she drops some more rose essence on her pillow. Then searches her bedside table drawer with her long fingers, pulling out a small wooden box filled with little vials. The majority of them are already empty, but there's enough Draught of Peace and Dreamless Sleep to soothe her. She doesn't want to risk it though, so she gets up, grabbing her wand, foregoing shoes or slippers, and dashes to the Astronomy Tower.
The Bloody Baron comes to her only a few minutes after she reaches it. The cling-clanging of his chains is a welcomed sound. His hand is very cold on her shoulder, but she doesn't move away. She needs the cold. She wants it, craves it. It's the only thing that will numb her pain now.
"You need to sleep child," he hisses to her, and she finds comfort in that sound too, "you can't carry on like this. Go to the matron, tell her. Spend a weak sleeping in there, she'll take care of you. Make up some story to cover it up if you must, but you need to sleep properly."
She doesn't answer him. He knows of the rumours, he knows of her fears. What he does not know is of the other dreams. The avenging witch. The man that hisses to her in Parseltongue. The smoke, the blood, the serpents. The darkness. If she won't tell him, how could she ever tell Madam Pomfrey why she can't sleep?
X
Malfoy Manor, April 2nd, 2012
Delphini is finally home. She can't remember ever missing her family as much as she has this last term. She is sitting in her bed, and she knows it must be early, because the sun is barely over the horizon and the moors are still covered in mist. But she is well rested.
She remembers coming to bed on Saturday, after dinner, feeling absolutely exhausted. The train seemingly taking forever to reach London. She remembers how soothingly her veil enveloped her, how soft Vicious' fur felt against her face, how delicate were the hands that adjusted her covers around her. And then there was nothing.
If it weren't for the magical calendar ripping its own pages off with every midnight, Delphini wouldn't even know that today is Monday. She blinks her eyes very slowly, rubbing them a bit, making sure she is not seeing things.
I've slept for over a day… how did I do that?
There's an empty glass and a small plate with crumbles on it on her bedside table, so maybe someone managed to get her to wake up for some groggy ten minutes and eat something. Her stomach growls and twists in its emptiness.
She decides to get out of bed and have breakfast in the kitchens, right in front of the fire that burns eternally in the hearth. She takes Guivre with her, letting the snake happily coil himself on her arm, under her nightgown. Vicious simply takes a place by her side at the table, waiting for his share of her breakfast.
Once she is sated, she decides on having a conversation that is long overdue with a certain portrait. So she makes her way to the closed wing of the manor.
"Is this the wing where the Dark Lord used to live?"
The man in the portrait jolts awake at the sound of her voice. Delphini hears the clocks strike seven in the distance, all the way from the other wings of the Manor. This one has been silent and mostly empty for as long as she can remember.
"I beg your pardon, Miss…"
"Lestrange. Delphini Lestrange," she introduces herself, realizing that this portrait doesn't even know her, she comes here so rarely, "and you are?"
"Brutus Malfoy. I apologize for our previous encounter. I thought you were someone else."
"I know. You thought I was my Mother, Bellatrix Lestrange. You assumed I was her and that she was going to visit the Dark Lord, why?"
Brutus Malfoy takes a couple of minutes to peruse her, before speaking again.
"The resemblance is astonishing. Your eyes are not hers, though."
"Yes, I'm aware. Plenty of people have told me that I have my Father's eyes. Enough dodging, answer my question."
If portraits could become pale, Delphini could swear Brutus Malfoy had just lost three layers of colour. He seems completely rattled by her words, and she is positively furious she cannot get into his mind, or pick his thoughts from the air.
"I c-c-can't. I can't talk to you, not about that. Not about him."
It's like he has come to some sort of realization about her. Something he clearly fears.
"Why not?"
"I'm bound to the will of the Master of the Manor. He made it clear to all of us that speaking of the Dark Lord was not allowed after the war. A couple of us were relocated to this wing when we wouldn't obey. He made sure we were aware that the next step would involve a pyre."
He is obviously disgusted by the notion of being burned, but he seems truly afraid of talking to her about Lord Voldemort. It seems to be a constant in her life. Given the lack of answers to be found in the Manor, she will simply have to wait until she is back at Hogwarts and has an entire section on the British Wizarding Wars of the XX Century to explore.
She is annoyed, but only for a second. She can't bring her mind to care right now. Until she is back at Hogwarts, she will sleep. And not dream.
X
Hogwarts, April 17th, 2012
Delphini is in the Chamber. It's late, she has heard the clock strike its chimes at least twice past midnight. She is completely lost in the pages of a book. One of the books that she brought from her Mother's vault. It's about Legilimency, and that is enough to make it interesting to her, but she is currently reading its last section, on Occlumency.
She clearly remembers Draco teaching her a little, a tiny snippet actually, of this, when she was very little and the Ministry had insisted on appraising her. She still keeps that secret, and she still knows how to hide it in a corner of her mind, but this book mentions things much more interesting.
She can teach herself to pierce people's minds properly. More importantly, she can shield her mind against intrusion. She can turn her conscience into a box of secrets, like the one she has hidden here. The embellished, dark wood box where she keeps precious little things. The first shedding from Guivre, a feather from Darkie, the silver bell from a collar that Vicious Mist outgrew. The note from her Father, the note from Scorpius that made her go back home. The wrapping of one of Teddy's chocolates. A preserved rose from the gardens of the Manor. A lone emerald earring from Draco's wedding. All apparently devoid of value, but all little pieces of her.
She turns another page and finds a picture. A young woman that looks like her. Her Mother, smiling, laughing at something a young wizard says to her. Her Father, she realizes. The man in the picture is Rodolphus Lestrange, the Father she does not remember. The man her family doesn't really speak of. He is smiling too, obviously happy.
She turns the picture and reads the little scribble there.
'With Bella, outside Castle Lestrange. Summer, 1973'
She frowns. That handwriting is not the same from the little note that came with her necklace. She gets up, setting the book carefully on her seat, twisting the photograph in her fingers. Then she simply stands in the middle of the Chamber, looking closer at the happy pair.
That's when she sees it. Rodolphus' eyes are nowhere near green. The green in her eyes, the emeralds she uses to see the world with, are not like Rodolphus' eyes at all. He has dark brown, almond-shaped eyes. Hers have the shape of her Mother's. Large and wide, sculpted in her face, that has finally grown to accommodate them. The semblance between them is nothing new.
But the eyes. Her eyes are wrong. Her eyes should not be green.
'You have your Father's eyes.' How many times has she heard that? How many times have people had eerie reactions to her eyes? How come her eyes are not Rodolphus' then?
Is that why her family is always so reluctant to speak of him? So reluctant to speak of her Father? Because she is not her Mother's husband's daughter?
She is a bastard, she realizes. The Lestrange name does not belong to her. She is a Black. And that's not as conflicting as it probably should. Because she has always felt drawn to her Black side, more than to her Lestrange half, that isn't even there apparently.
She is something else then, someone else's half.
And her family most have known, all along. Her eyes blaze red, she can feel them change.
She is so furious that she takes it out on the Chamber, destroying some of the snake heads that embellish the walls, her spell work ricocheting here and there, and Delphini dancing in between it all. She is utterly exhausted when it's over, but she knows the dreams will come to her tonight, and so she does not want to sleep.
She sits there thinking. Planning. She needs answers. The Malfoys won't give them away, so she must go to her best source. Rodolphus Lestrange. He must know who her father is, if it is not him. Her eyes remain red, she knows, but she is much too concerned to bother with changing them back. She doesn't want them to be green right now, anyway. She is busy planning a way to get answers.
Except Rodolphus is locked up in Azkaban. She sits there, very still, twisting the moving photograph. She eventually drifts off to sleep, her head lolling for a while before her body crumbles on the not so comfortable high chair she managed to Conjure.
She dreams of a mighty serpent. Huge, deeply green, dark reflections on its scales, big yellow eyes and long fangs, a black tongue tasting the air as it approaches her. But she is not startled by it. She doesn't even fear it. This dream is not a nightmare. The imposing snake coils around her, cradling her in her curves, and Delphini feels safe. She feels loved. She gives up to slumber in the dream too.
She awakes in the morning. The clock tells her to hurry if she doesn't want her secret spilled, but she is slow to react. The cold has seeped into her bones. When she rises, the picture drops to the floor. She remembers it all then. But mostly she remembers how comfortable she was in her dreams with that serpent.
I'm a Parselmouth, it figures, she thinks dismissively. It's not like she opposes to having a dream that actually lulls her to a good night sleep these days.
Her mind derails, crashing into a sheer wall of a very concrete possibility.
He was a Parselmouth.
She shakes her head, as if shaking the idea off her mind. She needs to hurry, she needs to focus on reality. And that cannot be truth. But she is not a Lestrange.
The what-if is left behind in the Chamber, and Delphini tosses it off her mind whenever it comes back.
She needs answers.
She needs a plan.
X
Hogwarts, May 12th, 2012
This Quidditch match is different. The entire school knows it. Hufflepuff and Slytherin have to face each other. The next game doesn't even matter anymore. This game decides who conquers the Quidditch Cup this year.
More importantly, the cousins cannot wear each other's colours, cannot cheer for one another. They must play against each other and there are bets being made since the students hoped off the Hogwarts Express after Easter break.
The match isn't as bad as it could be, but the commentator in the stands is getting carried away about the familial rivalry in the pitch, and using that as a launching platform for simply deriding the Slytherin team. It's not going down well, obviously, and Delphini has already received a warning for sending a Bludger on a suspicious route just barely over his head.
She stops listening after a while. It's too much, it's all too much. These past few months have been a nightmare, one continuous terrible dream that she can't wake up from. All she sees are the Bludgers and the players in yellow. She hits the balls again and again, her mind utterly disconnected from reality. Her bat hitting every one of her dreams, one at a time, banishing them away from her. She becomes rage made flesh, she can feel her eyes changing, and she focuses just enough to keep them from going red.
During time out, she doesn't even know what the score is. All she hears are people telling her how absolutely demolishing her Bludgers are, how the Hufflepuffs were inches away from the Snitch a couple of times and her balls stopped them, how her eyes look like an Antipodean Opaleye's, ever changing, impossible to follow.
But over it all, she hears the damn commentator, still going about how she has no concern for safety minimums, how she is playing dirty, upholding the Slytherin tradition of cheating their way to victory.
After the stunt before Christmas, 'The Ride of the Beds' as it has come to be known among the students, the House of Slytherin stands absolutely no chance of winning the House Cup, Quidditch Cup or not. So she figures they have nothing to lose, really.
She gives the commentator enough time to get really enthusiastic about the second half of the game. Her sleep deprivation is pushing her to the limit now. She is having a hard time focusing her eyes, all she does is react to the other players. A Bludger comes to her, and a Bludger goes away from her, aimed out of sheer instinct.
She does not notice when the Slytherin Seeker catches the Snitch. She does not hear Professor Hooch's whistle. Or her order. Or her scream.
"Delphini Lestrange, the game is over!"
By the time her brain registers the full sentence, she is already through the commentator's stand, crashing into it, broomstick and all, leaving the older student plastered on the boards. She moves her braid off her face and all she sees is Headmistress McGonagall, standing over her, clearing her robes of the debris.
She is informed, drily, that despite having won the game, the House of Slytherin will forfeit the title to the House of Hufflepuff as punishment for her behaviour. For a second, there's only silence in the entire pitch, then there's a current of excitement as McGonagall's words are processed, and finally there's utter uproar. The Hufflepuffs are much too busy celebrating. The Slytherins seem to be torn between staging a coup to get their hard won Cup back and cheering for Delphini. They do all loathe this commentator. And the House Cup was already miles away anyhow.
X
Hogwarts, June 6th, 2012
She ruminates on the idea of meeting with Rodolphus. She can't quite think of him as Father all the time now. It won't be easy, she knows. Her Uncle used to have quite the leverage within the Ministry, but he no longer does, she knows. She can't count on him to get her past the gates of Azkaban. But she could reach out for Auror Potter. She won't even have to put her intentions to parchment; all she has to do is wait for her last class of D.A.D.A.
She gets lost in her thoughts, in the maze of her mind, her eyes drifting from the books splayed in front of her to the tall windows overlooking the school grounds. The spring rain plays a rhythm on the glass, and Delphini rises from her seat, approaching the window, touching her long fingers to the radiating coolness.
When her mind comes back to reality, leaving her plans to simmer, she gasps. The reflection in the window has red eyes. She takes a step back, looking around, making sure she is alone. When she looks again, there's only green staring back.
Anger usually brings forth the red, never thoughts of her Father. But then, there's that little detail about the green of her eyes that keeps pinching her mind. Rodolphus may not be her Father after all, and she is probably subconsciously angry about it.
She needs answers.
UPDATE 25/04/2018: New side piece up! It parallels Ch39, hope you like it (and review it) It's called The Nurturing of a Flower