Chapter 13 It's in the Blood
Her father's incessant pacing was getting on her nerves.
Delphini had never had a normal life of her own. She had never had a single friend and had been secreted away from the wizarding world and the muggle world as if she was diseased. When she was a child, she didn't understand and thought she had done something wrong and was being punished. As she grew and matured, she understood and ceased to care. Delphini was proud of her heritage. Proud of the strength she inherited and the abilities she could practice and hone until she had become a virtually unstoppable force. She didn't need a friend for validation or whatever it was friends would do for one another. She preferred to be alone. She enjoyed the peace and serenity. It enabled her to think and plan and be without interference or judgment.
Her father turned to pace in the other direction. Why had she been in such a hurry to bring him back? She was understanding why the original owner of the stone had hung himself.
Voldemort turned on his heel mid-stride to face her. "I wish to see him. Take me to him."
"Who?"
"Harry Potter."
"Why?"
"You have him chained in the dungeon. I wish to see him."
"He's down there alright, but he is free to move around. He chooses not to," she replied, eager to see his response. Take that dad! I have Harry Potter under my complete control.
Voldemort reeled back as if struck. "How?"
She smirked, "Follow me."
They wound through the mansion to the dark dungeon where Harry, briefly imprisoned by her mother, had escaped. He would not get so lucky this time.
With a swirl of her wand, the dungeon sconces blazed to life, illuminating the dank room. In pride of place, on a damp stone table in the center of the room, was Harry's lifeless body.
Delphini was amused when Voldemort nearly danced over to the table.
"Is he?"
"Oh, he's alive," Delphini replied.
"Wake him."
Delphini raised one delicate brow. She was tired of his pacing and his imperious way of ordering her around, but she was curious about how Harry would respond to the reunion with his nemesis.
Pushing up the sleeves of her robe, she drew her wand and touched it between Harry's brows, dragging it slowly away from his face. His eyes opened but flinched at the bright light. Delphini swirled her wand to dim the light from the sconces.
"Harry," she began softly, "do you know who I am?"
"No," he gasped.
"I'm sorry. Your head aches?"
"Yes! Can you…will you make it stop?"
"I'm sorry I can't do that. Not yet. But maybe soon. There's someone here I would like you to meet," she crooned, as she brushed his hair gently back from his forehead and placed his glasses on his nose.
Harry tried to stay as still as a statue. Movement, any movement, was causing his head to throb. Something as simple as breathing was sending waves of excruciating pain coursing through his body. He was gasping for small sips of air and wishing she would end his agony.
Something about the woman was familiar, mostly because of her hair. It was the same silvery-white color as Draco and his father. She drew away from him and another came forward. The pain was making him see things.
"Hello, Harry!" Voldemort said in a singsong voice. "Did you miss me?"