Author waves a huge red flag in your face. Warning: this chapter may contain some seriously harmful content, the whole thing is on the darker side. If suicide is a trigger, skip the sections marked with *.
Little Hangleton, December 29th, 2013
Just outside the town, Delphini jumps off the Knight Bus. She had to lie to her family to be able to do this, and for some reason it does not sit well with her. Not this time. She told them she was going to meet Teddy at Diagon Alley, when in fact she quickly found a quiet place to summon the bus to.
The purple double decker brought her here within mere minutes, precisely to where she wished to be dropped off. Outside the town, by the woods.
It takes her a while to find the ruin of a house, but it is here, hidden by tall trees, surrounded by nettles. Walls and roof all collapsing and bending under their weight. The windows are so gritty that they could be part of the walls. The wooden door, that used to be sturdy by the looks of it, is rotting within its frame, reduced to a mere thing of thin, grey boards hanging from rusting metal.
If it were summer, Delphini could swear that the place would smell as well. Today, however, there's only the smell of rain and of soaked soil to what remains of the house of the purest, most ancient and most powerful bloodline in Wizarding Britain. The cold is too sharp, and it erases all other scents.
Revulsion stirs within her as she approaches the door, her feet breaking the soil's crust of ice. There are no other sounds to this place, despite the forest that surrounds the ruin of a house. No birds chirping, no leaves rustling in the wind. Nothing moves. Time has stood still here, only decay has been allowed to move forward.
She takes her wand out of its holster and points it at the door, ordering it to open. She nearly expects the thing to simply fall off with the gentlest touch of her magic, and is somewhat surprised that it moves unscathed. It creaks, loud and long, driving shivers down her spine.
Delphini can't see a thing inside, so she lights up her wand. For good measure, she sends an orb of light ahead of her. Everything is grey, covered in decades of dust, and the magical light only adds to the atmosphere of decay, casting shadows of strange proportions, making monsters out of everyday objects.
There are Bundimuns inside, eating away at the beams that hold what remains of the ceiling, and their smell is all too evident now that the cold isn't quite as bad. She considers simply clearing the air, but, then again, this place is crumbling already, and it is not worth the effort. She does not want it to be worthy of anything. She slashes her wand through the air, and every single window explodes, creating puddles of broken glass and allowing some of the day's pale light inside. The moss of many eyes growing all over the place dislikes the disruption, but she can't be bothered by the acid droll, casting a shield over her and quite simply forgetting about the yellowish goo sliming its way down her protective bubble.
She looks around, trying to figure out where the boards are, for her feet are most certainly stepping on stone covered by dirt and dust. She walks about, keeping the orb of light high up, though it's the moaning of old, rotting wood that proves she is in another division, without ever walking through a doorway. It there were any walls, they have long crumbled away under the corrosion of the Bundimuns.
The squeak of the floorboards seems to awake something within the shack, and the entire house creaks and moans, as if it were a giant waking from a long slumber. Then, she feels it. Dark magic reaching out for her in rivulets, penetrating her shield, tenderly caressing her skin, combing her curls away from her face. The bodiless beast knows who she is, knows her blood, knows her magic, and quickly turns from a snarling monster to a purring feline in her hands. It retreats, teasing her into following it, and Delphini knows better, knows that this is unwise, that this is beyond dangerous, but follows nonetheless.
Her eyes can't see it, but the picture in her mind is clear. The rivulets of darkness walk gracefully ahead of her, stopping every three or four steps, making sure that she is still following, until they stop for good in the middle of a tiny room.
A bedroom, she realizes, taking her time to summon the orb inside and look around. Not much of a bedroom, hardly worthy of that name. A rotten mattress in a corner, a bunch of blankets abandoned by its side, the tatters of a dress, all of it deprived of colour, all of it grey. The creature flicks its tail, or her mind sees a large black feline flick a tail, though her eyes see nothing but an empty room bathed in eerie light; and her attention focuses again. The creature pats the floorboards just in front of its wide, smoky paws, and Delphini knows what to do.
"Diffindo," she says, watching the boards be slit in half. Then, she cuts the air with her wand again, the light catching eerily in the pale wood, and watches the boards fly away chaotically, for she will not touch this place. The creature leaps elegantly to the side, its sweet caress on Delphini's neck, as if it were peeking over her shoulder.
There's a darkness to the hole in the floor that has nothing to do with the absence of light. It's like a thick cloak of magic that obscures what's inside. Delphini is determined not to touch any of these things, Merlin knows her blood could awake something she cannot put back to sleep, so she casts a light directly on the secret compartment and her breath trips over on itself, losing its way out of her lungs and tangling up with her tongue.
There's a chest of wood and leather, both carved with runes. Old, powerful runes that she recognizes, not from her studies of Ancient Runes in class, but from her forbidden readings in the Restricted Section and from the dark, heavy, old books in Malfoy Manor. This is beyond all she had imagined. The magic this chest exudes is not that of her father. It's something else, ancient, powerful and undying. Evil. Ominous. Dark.
She tries to levitate the chest out of its hiding place, but it refuses to budge. There are two chains wrapped around the handles on the chest's sides that shine like embers being blown on, angry, and Delphini knows that she will have no other choice but to use her own hands.
Lord Voldemort wouldn't let anyone but her retrieve the key to his return.
Delphini gets down on her knees, feeling the feline dark creature purr against her back, its large head rubbing against her head and neck, pushing her on. She reaches with both hands for the polished wooden handles, wrapping her fingers around wood and chains alike, feeling the runes press into her skin. Then, the chains retreat, slithering away between her fingers, down and down they go, unravelling themselves off the chest to lay peacefully at the bottom, dark and cold, their hostility gone completely.
The dark creature leaps over her, gracefully, landing on the other side of the splintered floorboards, going down on its elbows and flaunting its smoky, soft-looking tail in the air. The magic in the room feels almost happy, giddy even.
Delphini pulls the coffer up, towards her chest, and sits back on her haunches, placing the heavy box on the floor in front of her with a slight tump and a huff. She isn't happy at all. There's no giddiness whatsoever to her. She was giddy about her parents once, and all she got for her giddiness was the bitter taste of ashes in her mouth and the sear of pain. She doesn't even know how on earth she is keeping herself from simply bolting out of this place, far, far away from this thing of darkness.
The creature settles, lying all prim and proper opposite her, still over the hole on the floor, its paws crossed, observing her with keen eyes that burn with magic, colourless eyes that see right through her.
She lets her fingers run over the runes on the lid. There is no magical lock to it, all Delphini has to do is lift the top and the chest's contents are revealed to her.
Books. A neat row of book spines in black leather and silver trimming, all unmarked, all exuding something Delphini would rather not touch. Something truly wicked. For the first time in her life, she is confronted with Dark Magic that does not seem familiar, that her soul does not recognize as a manifestation of family. These books have no spells to them. They will not scream or try to maim the reader, like some in the Restricted Section. Oh, no, she knows exactly what keeps these books safe and off most people's hands.
Wickedness. The sheer evil that they contain.
She pulls them out, one by one, examining the titles, which means she has to open every single one, since the leather to their covers is marked with nothing but an ancient rune. An intricate construction made of seven old runes, its sound long lost for the hundred generations too afraid to even pronounce it. The meaning remains, though, carried through time in writings kept hidden in the most sombre books. Delphini knows it. Dark Lords have been using it for centuries, Salazar Slytherin himself branded personal possessions with it. It's a representation of the purest of the Dark Arts, things so obscure, so damning, that Inferi would seem simple and nearly innocent. Horcruxes are merely the first step into this descent.
Delphini shivers, for one of the seven original runes means yew-tree, but can't keep herself from tracing it on the leather.
The things in these books open a door that she doesn't want ajar in the first place, but this is not about the Dark Lord and his prophecies. This is about Astoria.
This might even be about Andromeda.
She couldn't quite focus on Andromeda's mind at the platform, not when she was busy holding Scorpius in her arms, but she sensed it. She sensed the hostility, aimless and lost that it was, but still there. Andromeda knows something is off. Andromeda knows there is something in the green she should fear.
There's more beneath the books, and Delphini can't keep her hands from shaking as she pulls a roll of parchment, made flat by the books, sealed shut with the Dark Mark. She cracks the wax, and the sound seems to echo throughout the shack, disturbing the heavy silence that had fallen upon the place. The dark creature moves to sit by Delphini's side, and she nearly moves away from the comfort of that familiar darkness. It's wrong, she knows it, it's wrong for her to be comforted by the darkness, but the wickedness that surrounds her, oozing from the chest in waves, is so utterly frightening that she does not dare send the creature away, for fear of that wickedness taking over her, sliding in under her skin somehow.
She reads, and then rereads again and again because none of it makes sense. Father alternates between 'Augurey' and 'my precious creature', and never ever addresses her as 'daughter'. None of the awkward sweetness is there; the inadmissible truth from his last letter never permeated these words. She is nothing but a means to an end in this, the writing unhinged by her father's thirst to everlasting life and power, and it shatters her. It befuddles her completely that he could see her like this, simply his omen, simply his tool, for she knows that the muted notes of affection in his last letter were true. Must have been true. This is not the writing of the man she thinks of, still and despite everything, as father. This is the same Lord Voldemort that she called to the Veil, that had no love in his eyes. This is not father, this must be the last figment of father, that single piece of his soul that remained. Must be, right?
Lord Voldemort may have loved his daughter, maybe even the woman who bore her, but the most powerful Dark Lord that ever lived held no love for his Augurey. That last broken part of him couldn't feel it anymore, but he would if he were whole, right?
Once she is past the hurt - not truly past, just capable of pushing it to the side so that she can focus again – she scavenges the parchment for information. And the most jarring thing about it, once she shuts the hurt in a box on the back of her mind, is that there are no clear instructions.
Delphini laughs and cries and sobs and bends over herself, leaning her head on the rim of the coffer, letting her tears soak the words on the parchment. Lord Voldemort never knew how he would return, never knew what she had would have to do to retrieve his soul from past the Veil. Lord Voldemort amassed the darkest knowledge he had access to and left it all together in a cursed chest for her to figure out.
Delphini laughs and cries and sobs and dares feel relieved, for truly there won't be a way unless she chooses to build it herself, and she laughs desperately through her tears for what else is she supposed to do. She went back on her decision so that she could save Astoria, and there's nothing but cinders here. There is no path for that either, her father unknowingly made it so that she couldn't bring anyone else back instead of him. Not without diving into the murkiest of waters and risk losing herself in them.
He tells her that she will need a body to lodge his soul, but not how to bring his soul back. He tells her that she will need a body, any body, but that it cannot be Euphemia's for she has a greater role, and that has her laughing in hysterics, so utterly lost between tears and mirth that the dark creature feels the need to distance itself from her and takes to pacing a circle around her. Then, she gives into tears completely and she feels like she's flying on some wild creature she does not have control of, climbing ever higher towards the clouds only to come down in a maddening nosedive and be jerked up again, and dropped, like a plaything of some cruel deity.
In the last message her father addressed her, or so she hopes, she finds that she was truly supposed to be raised by Euphemia, no matter what. That much is perfectly clear. He writes that if she is reading these words, Euphemia must have thought her ready for her mission. He speaks of her together with her parents only to be trained, in duel by her mother, in the Dark Arts by himself, but of Euphemia as her guardian all along.
He wanted her kept away from them. From both himself and her mother. He was not interested in watching her grow unless it pertained to the growth of her abilities, and she cannot understand why. Were the words on the letter for her birthday nothing but a ruse? Would he be so cruel?
She reads the spell at the end, the one meant to give him a proper, permanent body, and realizes why Euphemia Rowle is so important.
'Bone of the father unwillingly given, flesh of the servant willingly sacrificed, and blood of the enemy forcibly taken.'
Euphemia was supposed to be the servant, still is for all the deranged witch believes. Lord Voldemort meant for Delphini to re-enact the spell at the graveyard, and she would need her for that.
Delphini's mind whirls and she takes another plunge into despair. Even in this, her father made sure she wouldn't be able to bring back anyone else, not even her mother, his most faithful servant. No, the spell would give him, and him alone, a body.
She scrunches the parchment in her hand, snuffing out the words of her father and listening to the parchment break. She pushes the chest away from her, meaning to throw the books back in it, but something clinks inside. She pulls it near again, and at the bottom she finds a vial. The same from Mother's memory, the one that holds a fraction of all three of them, a couple drops of her, a couple drops of Mother, a couple drops of Father.
Her anger boils over. She does not want her father, just like he didn't want her. He wanted what she could do should he fail, and the pain pierces her straight through. She does not want her father, she wants a way to keep her family whole. She wants Astoria to live again if she can't save her, and if her father will not help her, she wants nothing to do with this mingled, cursed blood.
The creature stops its pacing and snarls, crouching down, sensing the change in Delphini. She nearly crashes the vial in her palm, her knuckles turning white. She picks up her wand and points it furiously to the battered parchment, setting it aflame, as if she could burn away the words forever etched into her mind. Then, she turns her attention to the books, levitating them into the chest with such force that the lid is tossed shut and the box falls back into the gapping floorboards.
The creature stands ready to lunge, its smoky shape turned thorny, like its fur were standing, and Delphini snarls back, a snarl turned scream as she throws the vial at the wall with all her might, watching it shatter into a hundred dark tears of glass, watching the blood splatter on the wall.
The creature roars, its murderous intentions clear, and Delphini lets her magic loose, feeling it spark in the air around her in angry bursts, keeping the creature at bay. She turns right, digging in the balls of her feet, and Disapparates with a thunderous crack that makes the entire shack tremble.
X
Malfoy Manor, December 30th, 2013
Narcissa finds Delphini in her usual spot in the library, sideways to the fireplace. Half in light and half in darkness, her profile a pitch black shadow against the flames. There's a cup of tea by her feet, the steam rising through the air in misty volutes as a silver spoon moves silently within it.
Tea so strong it could raise the dead, she thinks, musing on how her niece's tea is always on the very verge of too bitter to drink.
She knows where Delphini went, held her in her arms for what felt like hours when she Apparated in the gardens, shaking leaves and snow off tree branches and making the peacocks take flight all at once.
Delphini didn't say a word, sobbing her hurt out in her arms, the two of them alone amidst the snow, and Narcissa knew. Astoria confided in her, and Narcissa knew the second she saw Delphini crumble in the garden.
Delphini still hasn't said a word to anyone but Scorpius, for whom she put on a happy façade for a couple of hours, but Narcissa knows that she will say something. Her pain may be pent up inside, disguised as anger, but it is plain for them to see. And Narcissa is determined to be by her side when she decides to talk.
"Was I such a means to an end that my father wanted nothing to do with me?"
Her voice is crippled by pain, and she speaks without looking at her. She hides her green eyes in the fireplace, in the glowing light of the flames, and Narcissa lets her. She will not push her, not after whatever she found in Little Hangleton, not when she is surrounded by the ghost of a pain they all thought gone.
"No, little bird. You're were not just a means to an end," Narcissa replies, knowing that this will only make the pain worse before it gets better, but being anything other than truthful might mean losing Delphini, and that she will not abide. "I saw it only once, perhaps, when you were with him, but more often when you and Nagini were together. The bit of soul in that snake could be affectionate towards you in the most obvious ways."
"But not the soul in him?"
"No, Delphini," she replies, approaching her, "I'm afraid that part of him couldn't do much of anything normal souls can."
There is silence then, and Narcissa lets it be, standing a couple of steps away from Delphini, fighting the urge to run to her and wrap her arms around her. Her niece keeps staring at the flames, but the spoon stops turning in the tea cup as it crosses the air towards Delphini's waiting hand. She takes a sip and puts the cup back down.
Narcissa waits patiently, watching Delphini square her shoulders, as if working off the ache in her muscles, and then take a deep breath before she asks another question.
"Why was I to be raised by that awful Rowle woman instead of by you?"
So here it is, Narcissa thinks, she has finally come to this. She has finally realized that Euphemia was always part of the future the Dark Lord had envisioned for his daughter, for his heir.
"Because the Dark Lord never shared, not even with you, not even your mother," she tells Delphini, approaching her once more and placing a hand that she hopes is soothing on her perfectly wild-yet-tame curls. "You robbed him of Bella in a way, and she had never divided her attention. It was always all his, entirely."
That makes Delphini turn her head and look her in the eye. In hers, Narcissa finds no sorrow, no anger, just a certain kind of resignation, as if Delphini is making peace with a truth confirmed at last, but long suspected. Still, there's the shimmer of a lone tear crawling down her cheek. No matter how long she has known of this, in the deepest parts of her soul, in the loneliest corners of her mind, this confirmation comes with pain. No judgement, just sheer pain.
For a moment, the look in her eyes takes Narcissa aback. Back to the days her son's eyes bore the same kind of pain, and she silently renews her vows to always guard Delphini, to always fight for her, as she fought for him.
"Bella's focus wasn't so sharply on him at all times after you. He read minds with incredible ease, Delphini, and often he would be inside ours and we wouldn't feel him there. You took too much of your mother's mind, you held too great a piece of her soul from the day you were born, and even before that. The Dark Lord was a greedy master, and I think he underestimated how much your mother would come to love you."
Her words find only silence in return, so Narcissa brings one of the armchairs closer to the fire and sits down, letting Delphini lean against her legs and rest her head on her lap. She takes her time, measuring her words, trying to find the least hurtful way to talk about this.
"There was an arrangement, even before you were born. I've told you how that failed, but new plans were made, nonetheless. Once you were a little older, once Potter was dead they hoped, you'd be sent to live with the Rowles. They would teach you all the basics about magic, and your mother would only come into your life again much later, to train you, as your father would."
"But why not keep me here? Why not have you and Uncle Lucius raise me and teach me?"
The moment the words tumble in haste from her lips, realization dawns on Delphini's eyes. She remembers the time when Lucius was afraid of her, even if she is not entirely aware of what the doors to her rooms would do to him in those first months of her life. She sees, clearly, the impossibility of being raised by them, who weren't just fallen from grace at the time but also utterly destroyed in ways unmentionable.
But she seems to still fight the truth, the very thing that sets her darkness apart from that of her father.
"So that he could have her all to himself, little bird. Lord Voldemort did not share, and keeping you under the same roof as your mother meant sharing all the time."
She does, though, Narcissa thinks. Delphini shares, willingly and without so much as a grudge. Delphini shares Draco and Scorpius and Teddy and all of them. Delphini has friends, close friends, not followers, not servants.
They taught her differently, they raised her differently. Right. Loved.
"You said you saw him once… being affectionate, with me. Did you, really?"
They raised her so loved that she has learn to crave it, instead of dismissing it for weakness. She craves it even from the darkest, most scarred of souls. Always will, Narcissa suspects.
"Once. In his last days. You have to understand, little bird, he never allowed me to be in the same room whenever you two were together, so maybe it happened more than the one time I saw it." She dares not say that it did happen more than that once, only that it might have, for Delphini would see right through her pity.
"How did you see it, then?"
"I walked in on the two of you by accident," she explains, tracing a delicate ear with her fingertips as she talks, "your father had a way to let his presence be known in the entirety of this house, but also a way to completely shut his mind off, to the point we wouldn't feel his presence even if he were standing right behind us. He was doing just that, don't ask me why, but he was in the nursery, with you and Nagini. I went to check on you, and found the doors slightly ajar. He always locked them when he was inside, so the possibility never even crossed my mind. I could show you, if you'd like."
Delphini's head moves on her lap, attempting a feeble shake.
"I won't look inside your mind, you know it," she says, in a voice that doesn't sound as hurt as it did in the beginning, "just tell me what you saw."
"I saw your father standing by your crib, with a hand on your head. You were smiling up to him, holding on to the side so that you could stand. He looked like he was at peace, and I don't remember ever seeing that look on his face. He seemed deeply saddened, too. I was terrified at having interrupted, but he simply walked past me, never said a word."
Never punished me, she adds in her mind, not daring to admit that if she ever saw remorse in Lord Voldemort, it was that day. That a couple of weeks before the battle, she had seen her master look upon his daughter as if he knew what was coming. As if he regretted the path he had taken. As if he cared for Delphini's future more than his.
X
Malfoy Manor, December 31st, 2013
New Year's Eve Ball is always the major event of the winter season, and the Malfoys are hosting it. Delphini doesn't feel much like celebrating, so manages to spend most of the day alone in her rooms with the memories of her mother.
Aunt Narcissa is never anything short of the perfect hostess, and she knows her help is not truly necessary, so she stays in her bed for far longer than is proper. At first, because Scorpius is sound asleep by her side and she will not disturb him. Then, because they decide to have breakfast in bed, both knowing that they will not be denied this whim.
They manage a minute of utter happiness when some jam slides off Scorpius toast and he tumbles the honeypot across the bed in his efforts to not stain the bedsheets and Delphini tries to grab it but her knees bump the tray and their milk is spread all over them and the butter somehow ends up sticking to one of Scorpius arms. They can't help but laugh for a minute straight, trying and failing to catch their breaths, managing to stop for a mere second before laughing again at the sheer mess on Delphini's bed and the jam-red and honey-golden stains on both their faces, incapable of stopping before their lips and fingertips start turning a suspicious tone of blue and their bellies hurt and they might just make themselves sick.
When they finally regain their composure, Delphini remedies things as best she can, making sure Scorpius looks proper enough to walk to his rooms without being scolded.
Astoria is somewhat better, in that her cough is subdued enough that she can leave the bed, and, if she is very diligent with her potions and tonics, she may even be able to make a short appearance downstairs for the evening. Delphini knows that Scorpius will be watching her like a little hawk all day, making sure that she does not overexert herself, making sure that she will be well enough to go to the party, even if only for a little while, for the rumours won't be so vicious if his mother is there.
Delphini knows that there is no stopping him, and that Draco will be the same. And that Uncle Lucius will be having lunch with a few acquaintances at the Bulstrode's so as to leave Aunt Narcissa's path clear, and so there isn't a single thing keeping her from spending her day in her bed, cooped up with Mother's memories.
She levitates the Pensieve's case and the vault of memories straight to her bed with a wave of her hand, too lazy to leave the bed, let alone pick them up herself. She opens the vault, watching the snake dive into the rose in the lock, mesmerised by it, knowing that the vial she shattered in the shack is the reason this box answers to her touch alone.
There are new vials inside, next to the ones Mother used, tiny vials that she Conjures each time she isolates one memory from another, storing them neatly and labelling them, hoping to someday sort them into order. She picks a vial of her Mother's randomly, letting her hand glide above them before touching a fingertip to a cork. She pours four strings into the Pensieve and dives in.
This time, she sees her parents together in the study at Rowle House. She sees a much younger looking Euphemia scurry off their way, taking deep curtsies, and leave the two of them alone. Her mother looks perfectly content as she sits in an armchair with both hands caressing her round belly, so focused on her unborn child that everything else around her is slightly faded and out of focus, even though Lord Voldemort is busy creating the enchanted nook and leaving the prophecy within it, coating the blade of the slim dagger with three drops of their conjoined blood, and thus locking the orb away.
She learns of the day her mother first found out that she was pregnant with her, and watches as the Dark Lord gifts her with a bird skull pendant, telling her that it will protect their unborn child. Telling her of the glory his heir shall bring him, referring to her as the Augurey for the first time.
She watches a battle at the core of the Ministry unfold through her mother's eyes. Watches all of it in a blur but for the death of a wizard, Sirius Black, and a vicious duel between Lord Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore. Watches as her father is forced to retreat, but not without retrieving her mother from the rubble of fallen statues, and can't help but notice how that is the sharpest thing in the entire memory.
At last, she learns of her mother's cunning nature by watching her trick Euphemia into storing the vault together with the prophecy, months later, convincing her that the memories within are of vital importance to the Augurey's mission. She had everything planned, down to the detail of giving Euphemia a small flask of Delphini's blood, so that she could open the secret nook in her study.
When the Pensieve releases her mind, Delphini takes her time to isolate each memory, keeping one in the original vial and Conjuring three more. She dives again into each one, separately this time, so as to label them correctly, she tells herself, even if she knows she is doing this entirely because she revels in the love of her mother.
She comes up from Rowle House one last time feeling exhausted, and decides against picking another vial. She stores everything away and falls back onto her mattress, curling up on herself under the warm blankets. She needs a nap if she is to look her best later, and she barely notices as both Vicious and Guivre burrow under her covers before she falls asleep.
X
She wakes up feeling refreshed, if a little lost in time. The guests will be arriving in a couple of hours, so she untangles her body from both her familiars, wondering if Darkie can be persuaded to take up residence back in her study, as he should, only to figure that the raven is probably much safer in Uncle Lucius' study, clear from all the fangs in the house.
Delphini moves slowly, not fully awake until she's under a running shower. Her gown is hanging on a mannequin in a corner of her dressing room, and she wonders if Radagast will like her in this one as much as he liked her in the dress for the Yule Ball. This gown exposes her shoulders completely, a cascade of deep green that flatters her willowy shape, not quite so daring this time around.
She forfeits the necklace and the comb her father gifted her, though. Tonight, she wears the earrings of her mother, the emeralds, and the silver bird skull stays on her neck, sitting alone on her chest. She puts on black heels, not very sensible but perfect for dancing, and then arranges her hair into an intricate set of braids that fuse into a single, long braid that departs from her nape, waving with her every movement.
She walks downstairs all poise and composure, earning approving looks from her family, and stands in the entry hall with them, greeting their guests with sincere pleasure. Scorpius is elated by her side, and she discreetly makes sure to stand a little behind him, a clear message to those who might feel like gossiping tonight, but mostly a way to keep him from nearly hopping where he stands, so excited that he is.
Astoria is well enough to come downstairs, and she join them for dinner, in a dress carefully tailored so as to better hide her thinness, and then for the opening of the dancefloor in the ballroom. And even if she does not dance, her ease of movement as she walks about the guests, greeting them and joining in conversation, is impossible not to notice. Her cough remains quiet for the night.
Delphini makes sure to dance with Scorpius, and Draco, and Uncle Lucius, who looks unabashedly proud of her as he twirls her about the dancefloor. Still, she spends most of the time in Radagast's arms, and if the entire gathering notices and they turn into the main topic of conversation, all the better, for it means the rumours will be restricted to the side lines.
People around them talk and talk of the two of them together. Of how many weddings amongst them came to be because of something like this, a ball, a birthday, someone else's wedding, and a young couple blocking out the world around them. Of how Lucius and Narcissa used to just like this, ever since they were very young, and Delphini is elated that that is the comparison they chose to make.
The rumours do not die - will not die, Delphini knows it – but they are forced into silence tonight, for Astoria manages to stay until midnight, to Draco and Scorpius' glee. She retires quickly after the toasts, and Delphini makes sure to evade the festivities just long enough to check in on her, and does not leave until she is absolutely sure that Astoria is well, if utterly exhausted.
She returns to the party and dances until dawn. Dances until her feet hurt and Radagast manages to steal her away for a few moments and kiss her again. It is chaste, and careful, like this newfound feeling between them, then grows into something more, hands tangled together on necks. Nothing further, for Delphini can't help but hold back. Radagast takes it for propriety, and she reminds him that there are three men exceedingly fond of her underneath this roof and that two of them are liable to tear him to pieces should they find them like this.
Radagast does not know her true reasons, and Delphini is immensely grateful that he does not pressure her for them. She is not ready to share her secrets. He does not know of the blood in her veins, and it would not be fair on him to let this thing she dares not name grow between them unchecked.
But she can pace it, she can establish boundaries. She can wait a little longer until she names this thing, until she has to tell Radagast of her true nature.
X
Tonks House, January 1st, 2014
His grandmother seems somewhat better, a little more herself and a little less the fleeting creature. She still jolts easily, she still mumbles entire days away. She is getting better at hiding the fleeting creature now that he is home, and that worries him.
The way she hides that other self, presenting him with a façade of what used to be herself, presenting even others with that same mockery of sanity, is the greatest worry Teddy has ever had. He used to know what to do to cheer his grandmother up. He used to know when to crawl into her bed and when to get her out of it, now it seems like she barely sleeps. He remembers being very little and not knowing her birthday, or his birthday, or Harry's birthday, but knowing the day his parents died, knowing the day his grandfather died. Not because of the calendar, not because Grandma told him, but because he would look at her and see nothing but sadness. A vast empty plain in her grey eyes, as if winter had come to the desert and covered the sand with dirty snow.
He wishes she was still so easy to read. He wishes he still knew her every mood and how to respond to it. He sometimes wishes she was simply sad, for he knew for how long to let her be sad, for how long to let her sleep.
This is not sadness, this is something else entirely. This fleeting creature that shares the house with the two of them keeps taking little bits of his grandmother, and he does not know how to stop it. His grandmother hides it, for in her lucid moments she realizes how worried he is, and Teddy wishes he were better at hiding it in those days. She hides it out of her concern for him, and the urge to hide it seems to make her worse, and the next day Teddy has no grandmother at all.
Just the fleeting creature that eyes him carefully and mumbles, mumbles, mumbles. Something about danger, something about green, something about protecting him, something about Hogwarts. He doesn't mind the mumbling about protecting him, for he knows he can reach her, then. Show her that he is fine, that he is with her, right here, and that he is safe. That usually stops the mumbling, and he usually has his grandmother for the rest of the day.
There's also the pacing. Merlin, the pacing is the most distressing thing, for she paces because she is worried about him not being safe, and she paces all over the house looking for him, checking on him, even at night. Even when he leaves her in her bed, warm and comfortable, and he does not leave until she is asleep, even then he will hear the doorknob turn some half a dozen times, and grandmother tiptoeing to his bed, to make sure he is well, and only then return to her own bed. Sometimes, it's not grandmother that checks on him. He has learned, the hard way, not to sleep by her side. He did that once and his grandmother went into a frenzy, and he couldn't understand what was going on until Grandma called him 'Ted' and told him their grandson was missing.
But last night was a good night. He threw them a little New Year's party, refusing Harry's invitation to join the celebration at the Weasley's, and his grandmother laughed and even danced with him, utterly unaware of that other person inside her, and the night had been kind to them both.
Today looks like a good day. Today looks like Grandma is with him in the house, not the fleeting creature that mumbles and paces. And because the night was so good, and the day looks so promising, Teddy dares hope, Teddy dares be playful like he used to.
He smiles brightly as he turns his hair green. Not lime green, not dark green either, emerald green. Like Delphini's eyes, like Harry's eyes, for it's the green he likes the most.
"I might try something new with my hair, Gran. How about this?" He asks cheerfully as he turns the corner and enters the kitchen, where it still smells of the waffles they had for breakfast.
His smile disappears from his face almost immediately, for there is a genuine mask of horror to his grandmother's face. He suddenly realizes just how incredibly stupid he is for turning his hair green. Does his grandmother not mumble about the green all the time?
No, it's not grandmother, he thinks, putting his hands up, palms forward, the least menacing he can make himself, it's the other thing that mumbles.
The other person in his grandmother is now in the kitchen, and Teddy doesn't have time to turn his hair blue before his grandmother's wand is aimed at him and the dragon heartstring at its core comes to life.
X
Her grandson enters the kitchen with a spring to his step and a happy grin on his face and Andromeda's worst nightmare suddenly comes to life.
The green! The green has Teddy! Andromeda's mind shrieks and then she is nothing but primal instincts, retrieving her wand from the pocket of her skirt and blasting away the green from her grandson.
The green disappears from her sight, gone through the air, and something crashes loudly across the room. She looks to where Teddy was standing just now, and her mind whirls in panic when he isn't there.
It's not until Andromeda hears her grandson's grunt in the corner of the room that she realizes what she has done.
X
Hogwarts Express, January 5th, 2014
Delphini knows something is very wrong with Teddy. The look on his face at the platform was one of absolute devastation, and Andromeda was not with him, only Potter. The blue of his hair was not so bright, and the light in his eyes… his eyes were the most mournful she has ever seen.
He was avoiding her, too, which makes her mind run through all sorts of scenarios, the least hurtful involving being shunned by Teddy. Could he know? Could Andromeda have remembered? Did she leave some minute crumble behind that her aunt could have followed all the way to the truth?
She moves from one compartment to another, frantic, until she finds him, alone, sitting in a corner, his head against the window and his eyes unseeing. She enters, pointing her wand to the door, making sure what happens here stays private. Teddy doesn't even notice her, not until she is sitting opposite him and she calls his name.
"Teddy? Will you tell me what's wrong?"
He sobs, just once, wrapping his arms around himself and pulling his legs closer to his body. Delphini's mind whirls at the wreckage of her cousin. Could she have done this?
"Teddy? Please say something…" Her voice is engulfed by the rhythmic sounds of the train.
"She turned on me, Delphie," he says, sobbing and crying and halfway to Delphini's waiting arms on the other side of the carriage.
"Teddy, I'm so sorry," she says, holding him close to her, as she has done so many times to Scorpius. "What happened?" She asks for his benefit, for she knows exactly who turned on him, and what happened, and when it happened, for Teddy keeps reliving it in his mind, turning it over and over again.
They sit in silence for a long while. Delphini with her back against the side of the carriage and her legs propped along the edge of the seat, so that Teddy can lie on the seat and lean his head on her chest. Their arms are tangled round each other's waists and there's only the train's churning and Teddy's crying.
"I'm losing her, and I don't know why," he confides, holding her tight, so tight, like there were something pulling them apart that he has to fight.
And Delphini's heart breaks a little, for she can guess why. She erased the green from Andromeda's mind and, in the process, erased bits of her. Nothing fundamental, apparently, just enough for her to fall apart.
Andromeda is going mad, and she is to blame. Andromeda has turned on Teddy in her madness, and she is to blame.
She lets Teddy have his silence, but she needs to know how much he knows. So she prompts him again, and he tells her.
"I thought she was having one of her good days. Maybe she was out of it and I hadn't noticed yet. She is good at hiding it. I turned my hair green, I was joking, and she… she turned on me." His sobbing wrecks through his body, shaking Delphini's hands off now and then, no matter how tight she holds on to him, shaking her whole body, making her shoulders hit the wall several times, a burst of pain to remind her that she is at fault.
She did this, one way or another.
Green, it was the green, her mind whispers, and then it sets to running. There's a stampede of wild thoughts inside her, shutting off her senses for a moment, before she forces them to stop and focuses on Teddy.
He tells her everything that happened since they went home after the Yule Ball. He tells her of all the times he had to calm down Andromeda, to reassure her. Of all the times Andromeda was simply not there. Of the side of his grandmother he didn't know existed. Of the side of her that attacked him.
"I'm so sorry, Teddy." She is, she truly is, she never meant for him to get hurt. She erased Andromeda's memories so that she could be safe, it never crossed her mind that maybe Teddy wouldn't be. She finds herself crying as well, silently. What if her safety comes at the expense of Teddy's?
"She doesn't always remember what happened between us. I had bruises, from hitting the wall, and sometimes she knew how I'd got them, and sometimes she didn't and kept fretting, and I don't know what's worse."
Delphini is quiet, and thankful that all Teddy was hit with was a Knock-back Jinx. Still, her mind runs.
It was the green, it reminds her. She erased the green of her father's eyes, she erased the connection Andromeda had made, and still the green floated to the surface of the witch's mind, letting her know to mistrust it, to fight it.
She needs to fix this, but how? How can she keep herself and Teddy safe without eliminating Andromeda completely?
X
Hogwarts, January 18th, 2014
She doesn't know how to fix it, but both she and Teddy have found ways to tame the hurt. Teddy throws himself into his books, studying as if his life depended on it, joining her for long, quiet hours in bay windows throughout the castle, opening the even fewer letters of Andromeda only when he is with her. He never reads them to her, he only shares his worry, and Delphini burdens it all, burying the truth deep inside herself, for she cannot lose Teddy. She makes sure to always bring chocolate.
She stopped Andromeda from pulling them apart once, she will do it again.
She throws herself into Quidditch, beating her problems away in the pitch. They played against Beauxbatons in early December, and that had been fun, but the match between Slytherin and Durmstrang is the one the entire school has been looking forward since the Tournament begun.
They are cold-blooded players, all of them ruthless to the point of viciousness, and the Slytherins rally and rise up to the challenge. There is no fair-play in the pitch this morning, and the students loudly cheer for what's looking more and more like a battle on broomsticks, with the excuse of a couple of charmed balls to justify it.
The commentator riles up the crowd, and there are chants in at least three different languages coming from the stands. The voices hardly reach the players, for the wind howls in their ears despite the mufflers, and itty-bitty pieces of ice keep hitting them, a thousand needles pricking them, no matter which way they turn their brooms. As far as the players are concerned, there are only green and red blurs flying all over, and they all shut off the outside world to better focus on those.
Delphini keeps the Bludgers coming and going, inflicting serious damage when she aims one of them at a red blur, and the Durmstrang player proceeds to careen into the stands, smashing his broomstick and a dozen bones in the process. The crowd cheers for her when she skilfully dodges a Bludger, drawing an elegant figure around one of the towers, only to chase the ball and give it a new course, forcing the Durmstrang Seeker to fall behind, and almost off the broomstick, in the hunt for the Golden Snitch.
When the whistle announces the end, Madam Hooch is furious with the lot of them, and Madam Pomfrey is positively irate. Nearly all the players are injured, with more or less seriousness, and about a third didn't even make it to the end. Delphini has a nasty sore on her left thigh that promises to bloom in black and blue, but she shakes the pain off her mind, walking with her head held high, victorious.
She enters the Great Hall with the same stance that night, taking her seat at Slytherin's table. She is not greeted by the usual admiration of her poise in everyone's mind, though, not even by the usual notes of envy. They all saw it in the pitch today. Her serene expression when playing, her serene expression while she hurt others, while calculating ways to better do it. They can all see the creature of darkness within her, and they do not like it.
X
Tonks House, January 29th, 2014
Andromeda jolts when there's a little clink in the kitchen. Andromeda jolts at most sounds these days. Out of fear that the green is coming for her. Out of fear that it might be Teddy, and she may be too slow to realize it.
Andromeda looks down to her hands and finds that the clinking sound was made by the spoon she dropped into her empty plate. She laughs, a mad sound leaving her lips. Her mother would be proud, for Andromeda would have proven herself finally worthy of the name of Black. Their immaculate blood rising to the surface of her in the most wretched of its manifestations.
Madness. A mind consuming itself from the inside out, the purest blood twisting round itself in her veins, strangling the sanity out of her. The voids in her mind grow every single day, it seems, the green haunts her even more.
Druella Black would be proud of her daughter, but Andromeda Tonks is terrified of herself, of those other versions of herself that thrive in the voids, of the rushing thoughts that plague her mind.
She wanders about the house, taking in its current state. There are broken things that she does not remember breaking, just like she has scratches in her arms that she does not know the origin of. She was always neat, but there's a mess to be sorted everywhere she looks.
She isn't quite sure of the last time she felt this lucid. She knows that she has been losing time, she sometimes wakes in places she didn't go to sleep in, and she sometimes awakes to a stack of unopened letters from Teddy.
Teddy, her sweet Teddy that she hurt. Her precious Teddy that she flung against a wall like a ragdoll, for no other reason but the green. She still does not know why there's danger in the green, but she does know that there's danger in her as well.
Teddy, her sweet Teddy, who saw the worst of it during the holidays, and left with a glaze of concern to his eyes and bruises to his skin. She is becoming dangerous for Teddy to be around, and her mind is a cruel thing these days, constantly reminding her that there's an easy solution to it all.
He'd be better off without you, it whispers in her ear, he'd be safer without you.
The missing pieces of her have been coming together, creating something altogether different. Something dark, something malignant, something that feeds off of her despair. Something that likes to whisper poisonous thoughts in her ear.
Thoughts that she can't quite control, can't quite keep at bay.
Teddy, my sweet Teddy, she thinks, holding on to him even more than to her sanity. He is the reason she didn't give up, all those years ago, and she hopes against all hope that the voids that grow inside her won't take the memories of him.
For if they do, she'll have nothing to keep her here.
X
Hogwarts, February 21st, 2014
"Delphini, there are stands floating in the middle of the lake, how on earth is your cold dungeon a better place to watch the task from?" Teddy asks her for the hundredth time, as they both sneak their way down a staircase.
"Will you just be quiet and wait?"
"Isn't this the right corridor? Where is the damn door? Am I being pranked?"
"Sanguinis Pura," she murmurs to the wall. She stands tall and proud basking in the sight of Teddy, who thoroughly messes his bright blue hair scratching his head.
An embellished dark door materialises within an archway right before their eyes. Delphini places her pale hand against it and pushes, warning Teddy about the two steps down.
"Here he is! I was starting to wonder if Delphini had failed to persuade you to invade a Common Room," Sigmund exclaims, a smirk to his entire stance.
"Sure, Sig, let everyone know," Teddy says, flinching where he stands, "Merlin knows I'm worried about what this room might do to an intruder…"
"You're with me, Teddy," Delphini tells him, "Salazar Slytherin himself wouldn't lay a finger on you. I wouldn't let him." She winks, and it earns her a wide smile, the first proper smile she has seen on him for weeks.
She takes Teddy by the hand and guides him to the most comfortable seats in the room. A couple of large sofas upholstered in green velvet, covered in a decadent amount of pillows, that sit directly in front and beneath an immense window.
Delphini's smile grows, fed by the wonder in Teddy's eyes. He has heard of this window into the Black Lake plenty of times, but he has never seen it. She lets him take in the sight, take in the greenish water that seems to illuminate this side of the dungeon, the delicate patterns of light it casts on floor, walls and furniture alike. Then, she pushes him down onto one of the sofas, taking her place between him and Radagast, who raises his arm to welcome her into his embrace. There's no one but them in the entire dungeons.
"Wait a second!" Teddy nearly yells, his voice sounds loud and echoes back to them, startling the others. "What's that?"
Teddy waves his hand at three glass orbs, tethered to the bottom of the lake by heavy-looking chains that connect them to sturdy anchors. They move with the water, dancing above the seaweed, charmed to try and stay afloat, pulling on their restraints. Sigmund laughs at Freya for jumping, in that carefree way only he is capable of, but manages to answer him.
"That is whatever the champions are supposed to retrieve this time around."
"Are you telling me that they placed those things there, in plain sight of your Common Room, knowing that the Hogwarts champion is a Slytherin?"
"No," Delphini replies, a smug smile on her lips, "they planned for the task to be somewhere else in the lake, hence the stands and the giant canvas in the middle of it, but the Squid messed up their plans."
"What do you mean the Squid messed up their plans?"
"The Giant Squid has a habit of hoarding things right there," Delphini answers, nodding to the seaweed forest in front of them, "I'm surprised it hasn't tried to drag Durmstrang's ship down, really."
"Oh, come on!" Teddy is baffled. "The Giant Squid did that, and you guys said nothing? Your entire House just kept quiet about it?"
"Why would we say anything?"
"You do realize that I'm a Prefect? I'll have to report this!"
"No, you won't. I mean, you can," Delphini says, with her best I got you smile, "but you'll have to admit to being here in the first place…"
Teddy gives them all a disbelieving look.
"I'm going to end up being expelled for this… I'm taking you all with me, count on that!"
"I guess we're accomplices, then." Even ever-abiding-by-the-rules Syrianna has a triumphant smile on her lips as she says it.
They get comfortable while they wait for the champions. There's no sign of the Squid, but Sigmund has high hopes for it, in that he is adamant someone is going to be eaten, preferably Noailles.
Delphini and Teddy watch the water, pretending to pay attention, when the champions, heads wrapped in air bubbles, finally come across their bounties and are forced to dive into the jungle of seaweed, so as to better hide from the Squid, ominously patrolling above them now. Travers does an impressive job of looking as confused as the others, at first, but they all seem to have forgotten about the other creatures in the lake, and that such an invasion will only add to the difficulty of their task. The cousins couldn't care less, thought, for there are other things taking up their minds, devouring their attention.
There is one person connecting them through thoughts that they do not share.
Andromeda.
Their attention is captured, eventually, for Silverius is done playing. He puts his plan in motion, brilliantly constructed so as to cause the most chaotic scenario for the others. He casts a net around a fish shoal passing him by and uses it for transportation, driving it with jolts of magic that set the water alight, swimming over angered Merpeople and around and in between the Squid's tentacles. He captures his orb of glass, severing the chain, and lets it pull him up, and up, and up, away from the chaos.
Noailles and Yusupova now have to claim their glass globes without being taken hostage by the Merpeople nor being capture by the Giant Squid, which they cannot do without harming the creatures. They make it to the surface unscathed, but they are both docked points.
Teddy laughs and collects three galleons from Sigmund, while Radagast reluctantly pays Syrianna and his twin. Delphini smiles. She helped Silverius Travers plan his task this time around, but took measures not to be seen with him at the end. Among the arguments bound to emerge about whether or not Travers cheated, no one will even notice that she is not there.
It isn't exactly why she did it, though. No, Delphini is absent from the stands because Teddy wants nothing to do with loud crowds these days.
"Thank you, Delphi," he says just before he leaves the dungeon, when it's just the two of them by the door, "I needed that."
She hugs him and he burrows his head in her shoulder for a moment. She may not know how to fix it, but she can try and keep Teddy happy, she can try and ease his burden.
X
** Tonks House, February 24th, 2014 **
Andromeda's mind voids grow and grow, taking and taking and taking, until there is very little of Andromeda left. Until her house is scorched in a hundred places from the hexes she shoots at being startled. Until all she can think about are terrible what-ifs in which she hurts Teddy again. Until all se can think of is the green. Until she is terrified of her own magic, for the hexes she used were supposed to be long forgotten, reminiscent of a childhood in the House of Black. Cruel, dark teachings she buried in the deepest parts of her the day she left her home behind.
Her mind is cruel, and with Andromeda so many times gone, the slimy darkness from the voids invades every nook of her. The dark, hungry thoughts cannot be kept in check, and so they gnaw at her mind, forcing themselves upon her.
And in the void the green blooms. The green grows and flourishes until it forms a clear picture in her mind. Two wide green eyes in the shape of her sister's eyes, in the shape of her own eyes, looking up from under inky curls with a dangerous glint to them.
She ran from her blood forty years ago and it still haunts her. The blood of Black has set yet another curse on her, hunting her down through the family tree, leaping branches and climbing ever closer. A dragon in disguise under a pretty coat of softness to finish the work her own mother started, to nip the rotten fruit once and for all.
She is a failure. She failed her family all her life. She failed her parents when she left and joined the other side. She failed Ted and Nymphadora when she couldn't protect them. She failed them by luring death to them.
She is failing Teddy. She has hurt Teddy and she fears what she may do the day he returns. What if she greets him with something more grievous than a Knock-back Jinx the next time? What if she greets him with one of the hexes engraved on the walls?
Teddy is at Hogwarts, right? Wasn't there something dangerous there?
You're far more dangerous to him than anything in that castle. He'll be better off without you.
The green is at Hogwarts! The girl is there and Teddy thinks of her as family, loves her.
Her mind debates with itself, and no matter how many times it does, the outcome is the same.
Teddy will never let the girl go. He will try and protect her, he will stand with her and endanger himself in doing is luring death to him simply by not giving him up, for she cannot fight the pull of the girl. All the people she ever loved were killed, one way or another. She does not want Teddy to die. She does not want to be the one to cause it merely by being around. She is terrified of being the one to wield the wand that claims his life.
No, she will make sure Teddy lives. She will remove herself and ensure that death does not come looking for him, ensure that her blood doesn't exert its revenge on her denial of it through him.
So Andromeda sits at the mirror in her bedroom, figuring out the best way to do it. Her right hand rolling her wand back and forth no more than an inch; her left hand fingers burying into the brush's teeth. There's a calculating glint to her eyes, and in that moment Andromeda Tonks is very much a Black, an instable, deranged member of the house with the purest blood of Wizarding Britain.
She could never use the green curse. Lord Voldemort and his hellhounds killed people like that. The people that mattered to her were killed by the green light. No, not the Unforgivable.
Poison is too hard for her to find. If anyone knew she was looking for it they would stop her. They would lock her up in St. Mungo's. She could try her hand at it, but the sourcing of the ingredients would give her game away. No, not the killing curse, and not poison.
In one last act of irony, fate has seen it fit to present her with the undeniable fact that Bella's way is the best way.
The Severing Charm.
Bellatrix loved it. Andromeda remembers the tales of horror that the Daily Prophet used to print. It wasn't just the loose use of the Cruciatus that earned her sister her reputation. Bella was very gifted with the Severing Charm. She used it to cut the hair of many Slytherin girls during their stay at Hogwarts. Always precise and neat. She is pretty sure she did it for practice from a certain point on. She used it often to keep Rodolphus hair in check as well.
She wonders, with a giggle that does not befit her, if the high and mighty Dark Lord ever sat on a chair while Bella chopped away at his hair with her twisted wand. He surely benefited the most from her skill. It was one thing to be tortured for a couple of hours by Bella's Cruciatus, left alone once the information you kept was hers. It was another matter altogether to be kept somewhere for days, not always for information as much as for fun. Bella would leave terrible scenes behind her. Often, the newspapers would say that the Ministry suspected her, but they were always sure when the cuts were made by charmed blades. Not to mention the gruesome blitz attacks all three of the Lestranges were known for.
Bella always had a flare for the dramatic. Andromeda never felt much inclined, but she knows there's something wrong with Bella's daughter, something dangerous about the girl, even if the void has engulfed the reason for her fear. So she will take her life, and leave a warning behind when she does. Maybe she can use the ghost of Bella to do some good. Maybe people will read about her death and remember that she was Bella's sister, that Bella has a daughter that looks so much like her. Maybe people will see her and fear the girl as much as she does.
Because she does not know why, but there is danger in the green of the girl's eyes. There's a promise of doom in that girl, she knows. There's a darkness in Delphini that she cannot stop without harming Teddy, so she will get the world to stop the girl instead.
Andromeda raises her wand, holding it tight in her hand, feeling it press into her palm. The core of dragon heartstring hums a familiar song, lingering from her childhood. She holds her head high, her chin proudly turned up. She presses the tip to the place behind her ear that Ted loved to kiss. A tear comes down her cheek.
"Diffindo," she whispers to the room, drawing her wand across her neck, all the way to the other ear.
The world fades to darkness, as her brain struggles to function with less and less. Her body barely moves, willing to surrender without a fight, a last defiance to her blood of Black.
Author's Notes: Sorry?
Please don't go without leaving me a little something. Reviews keep me going.