A/N:
for Vonn, who drew some beautiful art of Al and Delphi that inspired me to write them together. the ship name is alphi ?
minor spoiler tw in the note at the end of the story.
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Violets are Blue
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The Ministry ballrooms have terrible lighting. Too bright and too many. It would be bad press if they didn't have the wedding party here.
Al squints up at the ceiling in distaste and consoles himself with the fact that tonight is just the rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow will undoubtedly be much more taxing. Dad would have never chosen this as a venue on his own, but Al supposes no one really had a say in the matter.
The wedding itself may be a small affair, but the afterparty most decidedly will not be.
"Will you get me a drink?"
Al doesn't look up. "No."
"Father said you're supposed to take care of me tonight."
"You're older than I am," Al says irritably, raising his gaze just long enough to glare at his step-sister, "so why would I need to take care of you?"
Delphini sniffs, running her hands through her heavy curls, adjusting the tumble of hair over her left shoulder. The motion wafts her sweet-smelling perfume in Al's direction. "It would be the gentlemanly thing to do."
He turns to face the small crowd enjoying themselves on the dance floor. "I'm not a gentleman."
"You used to be." She hums, stepping closer to him. "We used to have fun, didn't we? You used to braid my hair when we were kids."
It had been red before, her hair. Then platinum blonde, then red again. Now it is dark as her mother's maiden name, an inky waterfall that tumbles in perfect curly waves, whereas Al's hair requires three different potions just to sit flat on his head.
"I'll get you a drink if you leave me alone," Al proposes, still refusing to look at her.
Delphini laughs. "No, thanks. I think I'll stay right here."
Al sat on the edge of the Weasley property line, staring up at the sky. Closer to the house, Lily and James were helping Aunt Fleur blow up dozens and dozens of bright silver balloons. Some of them had the number '16' written on them in sparkling cursive.
It was the first real family gathering since Al's parents had gotten officially divorced. Dominique's sixteenth birthday party. Everyone was coming, including Riddle and his daughter. Dad thought it would be a 'good bonding opportunity' for them and the rest of the family.
Seven silver balloons later, Rose showed up. Her long hair swung wildly as she plopped down onto the ground next to him.
"Won't your dress get dirty?" he asked her.
"It's just a dress." Her head tipped back, her eyes fluttering closed as the cool spring air washed over them both. "How are you doing? With your parents and all."
Al didn't know what to say. Many people had asked him this question, and every answer he'd given so far had felt like a lie.
"They tell you nothing will change," she continued, as if his non-answer was expected, "but then it always does. I think they're more afraid of change than we are."
Al scowled at her. "You don't know what you're talking about." It wasn't her family that was being torn apart.
Rose shrugged and picked at the hem of her dress. "You know I'm right. All adults are like that. But I suppose your dad isn't so bad. He cares."
There was a loud CRACK as more Weasley cousins arrived, startling them both and filling the air with noisy chatter.
The entire house and yard would be full soon, Al thought morosely, and then he would no longer be able to avoid socialising. Perhaps once the party was underway, he'd head inside the house to hide.
"I'll see you later," Rose said, suddenly picking herself up and vanishing in the direction of the crowd before he even had the chance to say goodbye.
Al walks away, looking for someone more bearable to talk to. Delphini follows, her dress robes swishing around her ankles, long strides matched perfectly with his.
"We could dance," Delphi suggests.
"No." Al scans the ballroom for Scorpius.
No luck. All he sees is James and Lily swaying in the centre of the ballroom. He can imagine their laughter blending together, like two strands of the same song, and feels a familiar pang of jealousy.
"They look a little like your grandparents. Have they always been this close?"
Al whirls around to stare at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Your siblings. Haven't you seen the photographs? Your dad was kind enough to show me." Delphini smiles. There's a drink in her hand now. Where the hell did that come from?
"Don't say shit like that," Al warns, jabbing a finger in her direction.
Delphini hums and sips at what looks like a glass of oak-matured mead. "Fine. I'll find someone else to dance with."
"You do that."
"They make a good couple, don't they?" Delphini asks, her voice a little too soft.
Curious despite himself, Al follows her gaze to where their parents are dancing together.
Dad in midnight blue robes, Delphi's father in deep charcoal with red accents. It's a perfect match, though Al would rather die than admit it.
He still remembers the first time he saw them together, their hands touching on the railing of a balcony. It had been so long since Al had seen Dad laughing and smiling, but Riddle had drawn that part of him back out into the open.
"I want you all to be there at the wedding," Dad said. He had too much pride to beg, but Al heard the aching question buried beneath the words. "I want you all to be there."
"Well, I wanted you and Mum and all of us to stay together," Al said. His voice was not cold, only tired—he knew he had to get these words out before they were lost to him forever. "That was what I wanted." His hand clenched, and he could feel the tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. "I understand why you left. I know why it had to happen. But you took that away from me. So you don't get to ask for it back," he finished. "You don't."
"Al—" Dad reached for him, but his hand fell mid air before it came anywhere close. "I'm sorry. I thought that you were alright with Tom and I. And you and Delphi… you used to get along." His gaze grew unbearably sad, almost painful to look at.
Al had always hated the weight of his dad's disappointment. "People change," he said dully. "It's not Tom I have a problem with."
"I suppose." Dad sighed. "You don't—I won't make you come, if you don't want to. I mean that."
"No. No, I'll go," Al said. "I'll go because I know he's important to you. But I won't stand up there and pretend that I chose any of this. I won't give a speech or hold any rings, but I'll be there for you."
Dad nodded. "Thank you, Al. This really does mean a lot to me."
"I know." Al took a deep, heavy breath. "And I want you to know that I'm… I'm happy for you, Dad. I really am. I can see that you're in a better place with Tom, and I'm glad you're finally going to marry him."
"Thank you," Dad repeated, softer this time, and Al was startled to see the genuine relief and happiness in his father's eyes.
They hugged, and although it was a little awkward, it was also a little nice.
Delphini touches a hand to her cheek in a coquettish way, fluttering her eyelashes. "Your dad might be free for a dance if I can pry my father off of him."
Al makes a show of rolling his eyes. "Still have that crush?"
"Why do you ask?" Delphini's eyes gleam bold violet with hints of gold reflected from the lights overhead. "Jealous?"
When they'd been kids, he'd thought of her as pretty once or twice. She's certainly beautiful now that they're both grown up. Anyone else here would be more than happy to dance with her.
"Don't be stupid," he says.
"You know what?" Delphini leans in, suddenly closer than before, and it's not his imagination that her left eye flashes emerald green as she adds, "In the right light, you look just like him. Maybe another Potter-Riddle union is in the cards after all."
It takes him a moment to parse her meaning. "You're fucked up," Al says flatly. "Stay away from me."
He turns his back on her and walks away.
She's calling after him—
"It was only a joke!"
—but he doesn't care. He doesn't care.
"Who is mummy's precious girl? Mummy's precious darling girl?" Delphini's face scrunched with discomfort under an onslaught of wet, smoochy kisses from her mother while the three Potter siblings watched on.
"If Mum did that to me," James said blithely, "I'd have to kill myself."
Lily elbowed him in the side. "Don't say that. I think it's sweet."
Minister Riddle was decidedly not looking at either of them—the mother or the daughter. After another minute of not-watching, he walked away entirely.
Delphi wrenched herself away from her overbearing mother, staring after her father.
"Dad?" she called, but Minister Riddle wasn't listening, or maybe he was too far away to hear her. Her face fell, even as her mother dragged her into another overly-affectionate hug.
Al shuffled his feet on the carpet. He thought he understood how she felt. Wanting something she couldn't have. After a moment, he steeled himself and walked over.
"Hey," he said. Both mother and daughter glanced at him with their identical eyes, and he resisted the urge to flinch.
"Hello," said Bellatrix Lestrange.
"I promised Delphi I'd help braid her hair," Al lied, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "Do you mind?"
"Oh, I could—"
"Albus does it best," Delphini interrupted haughtily. She skipped to his side and took him by the arm.
Hurt flashed across Madam Lestrange's face, but Al had no time to process seeing it—Delphini was already pulling him away.
Al finally spots a head of platinum blonde hair. He weaves his way past several people, confirms it's Scorpius standing next to an ugly statue of Merlin, and wedges himself between Scorpius and the wall.
"Dance with me," Al says curtly, gripping Scorpius by the arm and shoving him toward the dance floor.
"What—are—you—doing?" Scorpius hisses. "I am talking to someone, you absolute shithead—"
Al throws him a look of mixed aggravation and exasperation. He wouldn't be doing this if he didn't have to.
Scowling, Scorpius relents and allows himself to be pulled into a waltz.
The steps are stiff at first; Al hasn't danced in a long time. Usually, he comes to these events with the intention of avoiding eager fanatics who only want to dance with him because of his family name—or worse, because of the Riddle family name.
"You're pants at leading," Scorpius complains. "Where is she, anyway?"
"Who?" Al asks distractedly. He's too focused on keeping time with the music.
"Your mum," Scorpius deadpans, stumbling as Al turns them. "Who do you think I'm talking about, idiot? Your sister. Delphi."
Al doesn't like the way the word sounds. Sister. "I told her to fuck off."
Scorpius snorts. "Every event, you're at each other's throats."
"Because she's driving me mad," Al snaps. "Always going out of her way to mess with my head—"
"You're still mad about that?" Scorpius says irritably. "When will you get over it? We were stupid kids at that age."
Al glares at him. "You're the one bringing it up."
"Only because I know you," Scorpius says, narrowing his eyes. "It's always about that night."
Rose found him upstairs later that evening. The rest of the family was out by the campfire, roasting marshmallows and singing loudly off-key.
"Your dad's looking for you."
Al squinted at her. "I didn't see you when they cut the cake."
"You were probably too busy sulking." Rose joined him in peering out the window at the scene below. Louis was chasing Hugo around with a bunch of sparklers in his hand. "You've been hiding all day. How come?"
"I'm not in the mood for a party."
Rose pursed her lips. "It's easier to forget about things when you're having fun."
"Maybe."
Neither of them said anything for a while. The room was dark because all the lights were off, and Al was about to tell her to go away when she laid a hand on his arm.
"What?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm sorry about your parents," Rose said. "It sucks and it's not fair and I know you want things back the way they were. But I think your dad is happier now, isn't he? And… Delphi's dad, he's happier." Her hand crept down and latched onto his. She smiled wistfully. "Not everything has to be bad."
"Pay attention," Scorpius snaps, digging his fingernails into the back of Al's hand. He tugs them both to the left, just in time to avoid a collision with another couple.
Al tries. He tries to ignore the paranoia, the blooms of violet in every corner. But as he steers Scorpius around the room, he sees her. Every face in the crowd is hers, her features overlaid a thousand times in a thousand different ways. It's her laugh he hears, her smiles he sees.
When the second song comes to a close, Scorpius emotes his displeasure in the Malfoy way—mostly silent but with a poncy nostril flare—then forcibly pries Al's hand off his waist and takes a step back.
"We're not dancing a third time."
"But—"
"We're not," Scorpius says scornfully, "because I have a hard enough time convincing my own mother that we're not together. Go find Lily if you need rescuing so badly."
Rescuing. He doesn't need rescuing. Still, Al lets Scorpius wander off to kiss ass like all Malfoys do at parties like these.
There is no one else safe to dance with, so Al turns to the bar for his next escape. Delphini is nowhere in sight, but he doesn't doubt that wherever she is, she's laughing at him.
"Mum's sent another postcard." Lily waved a letter in the air as she walked into the room and sprawled herself across James' lap.
James patted her head. "Where from this time?"
"Australia. She's got an exclusive book contract with the Thundelarra Thunderers and says she won't be home for the holidays."
"Figures," James said, stifling an impressive yawn. His arms stretched over his head, muscles flexing. "Glad she's off being successful without us. I don't want her here."
"Anything else?" Al asked, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Did she say anything about—about—"
Lily handed him the parchment. "She says congratulations."
Al read the letter over. There was a single line towards the end that had his name in it.
Congratulations to Al on his Sorting!
After a minute or so, James snatched the parchment out of Al's hands and lit it on fire. Smoke curled in the air as the letter dissolved into ashes.
"I wish she'd stop writing," James said. "Why pretend, you know?" He looked at Al expectantly, waiting for an agreement.
Al only shrugged, so James turned to Lily instead. She nodded right away, eager to please. It was different for her. She had been too young when it happened, she didn't remember what it was like to have two parents. To her, Minister Riddle was Dad's boyfriend, not the reason why Mum never came around for Christmas anymore.
"Whatever," James said, clapping the soot from his hands. "Let's just enjoy our break. What d'you think Riddle will bribe us with this year? I'm hoping for a new racing broom, personally…"
Lily was too young to remember, James was too bitter to care, and Al—
Al was not his mother's brave little lion anymore. He just wished things were different.
Two drinks later, Al feels more relaxed. No one has approached him, and the party is finally winding down. He's halfway through a third firewhiskey when Riddle slides onto the stool next to him.
"Tom," Al greets. He is, perhaps, one of only two people on earth who calls Minister Riddle by his first name. Even Al's own siblings avoid it when they can. James jokingly uses Sir, while Lily sweetly refers to him as Father. To their cousins, he is Uncle Riddle. The preceding familial relation does little to make up for the distant formality of the surname.
Riddle orders a glass of mead from the bartender. "I see my daughter isn't with you."
"She left. I don't know where she is."
"I suppose I'm not surprised." Riddle sighs, and to Al's bemusement, downs half the drink in one go.
"She's an adult." She doesn't need his help.
Riddle pins him with a condescending look. "She is my daughter."
"Then go find her."
Riddle's eyes stay fixed on his face. His jaw tenses for a brief second, and then he says, "I wasn't looking for her."
"Well," Al says slowly, "maybe you should be."
The statement hangs in the air between them. Riddle grimaces as though he's swallowed something sour. He sips his drink carefully before he responds.
"You may not believe me," Riddle says, "but I am trying."
Al doesn't believe him, but for the sake of the wedding, he is willing to pretend. "Sure."
Riddle inclines his head. "You're more like your father than you know, Albus Severus."
"You don't say?" Al asks, allowing a bit of sarcasm to colour his tone. "Everyone always tells me that. It's the eyes." He waves a hand around his face.
"No, not that." Riddle traces a finger over the rim of his glass. "Harry has a great temper, but he also has a great heart. I know him well enough to recognize his son is cut from the same cloth." He sets his drink aside and meets Al's gaze. "I also know that he is unbelievably proud of you."
A lump is building in Al's throat; he forces it back down.
"He doesn't need me," Al mutters.
Riddle's answering smile is pitying. "I think you'll find that he does."
Madam Lestrange left before dinner. Lily and Delphini were both upstairs with Dad and Minister Riddle, and so it was just Al and James sitting under the large oak tree in the backyard.
Al kicked at a lump of dirt on the ground. "Why's Delphi's mum so weird?" The question had been bothering him all day. "Do you know why her parents got divorced?"
Part of him was eager for someone else to pin the blame on. If Delphi's parents had stayed together, then maybe Dad wouldn't have fallen for Minister Riddle.
"I heard Dad talking to Aunt Hermione about it before," James said slowly. His mouth twisted, and he seemed to consider his words before he continued, "Delphi's mum had him under a love potion when they married. And when they had Delphi." He shrugged. "When he found out, that was when they got divorced."
"Love potion?" Al asked, trying to picture it. "Like the ones Uncle Fred and George sell?"
"I guess." James' nose wrinkled. "But apparently her mum gets to visit so long as she keeps quiet about it. Uncle Ron said it's probably the Black family madness that made her do it, and that we shouldn't talk about it in public."
Al supposed you had to be mental to put someone under a love potion for that long. It certainly explained why Riddle did not want to be anywhere near his ex-wife.
"Well, at least she visits," Al said darkly.
"Yeah," James said, after a pause. "At least she does."
"There you are." Harry Potter's voice is wary as he approaches the bar. "Didn't expect to find you both here." He smiles at them, but Al can see the question in his eyes as he rests a hand against Riddle's lower back.
"Al and I were just having a drink." Riddle turns around and offers his hand. "Are you ready to leave?"
"Yep." There's a brief pause in which Harry looks guiltily at Al, and then he says, "Did you want to—"
Al saves him the trouble. "I have my own place now."
"Right." Harry clears his throat and looks back at Riddle. "Let's go," he says in a lighter tone, "before Diggle tries to rope me into another conversation about hat imports."
"I have no idea how you get yourself into these situations," Riddle says with a slight shake of his head.
"I have an idiot magnetic strapped to my back," Harry responds with a grin. "That's how I ended up with you."
Riddle's mouth twitches. "Enough of that, we're leaving—"
"Wait," Al says, before he can change his mind, "before you go—"
He slips off his barstool and pulls his dad into a hug. A big, proper one that lasts long enough for him to get a good squeeze in. Al shuts his eyes as his dad's arms squeeze back. It feels good, like an entire cup of hot cocoa has been poured into him. He hadn't realized how much he missed this until recently.
Reluctantly, Al draws back. "See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. See you," Harry echoes.
Riddle leads him away, their hands entwined, but he spares Al one last glance and nod before vanishing out the door.
Now alone, Al slowly finishes his drink. No one seems to care that it's bad luck for the grooms to see each other before the wedding. Maybe it only matters for the first time. Or maybe it doesn't matter at all because this marriage is the one that is going to last.
Outside, the campfire songs had died down. Uncle Fred or George was telling ghost stories, waving his hands around in an exaggerated manner while the gathered circle of kids laughed and made spooky noises.
"Maybe it's not bad for them," Al said, tearing his gaze away from the window, "but it's bad for me."
Rose mulled over that for a minute. Her hand was warm over his. "How so?"
"We hardly see Mum anymore. Especially now that Riddle's always around." Al kicks at the wall. "I get that she doesn't want to be there when he's there, but she doesn't even try. She just spends all her time at work."
"I see." Rose bit her lip. "But are there no good things? None at all? Minister Riddle got you that fancy telescope for your thirteenth birthday. And… and Delphi seems nice."
"The telescope was fine," Al admitted. "But I'm not like James. I won't be nice to him just because he buys me expensive things."
"And Delphi?"
Al hadn't thought much about her. "She's alright. I don't see her that often anymore since I'm in Slytherin, but when we were kids, she was alright."
"Lily told me you used to braid her hair."
"Yeah. Lily always bothered me to do hers, and Delphi has, you know, that really thick, curly stuff." He gestured around his head. "It was something to do."
"I bet she appreciated that," Rose said softly. She was closer than before, and it made his chest feel funny.
"Listen, Rose—"
Rose surged forward, her eyes wide and startlingly violet, and pressed her lips to his.
By the time Al leaves the bar, the Ministry Atrium is empty except for one person. Delphini sits on the edge of the massive gold fountain, skimming conjured stones across the glossy surface. Her curls are loose and untamed, and she's kicked her silver heels off to one side.
"Hey," he says awkwardly.
She looks up and seems surprised to see him. Her makeup has smudged on one side, leaving odd streaks behind. "Our parents left."
"I know." He slides his hands into the pockets of his robes and takes a step closer. "Have you been out here this whole time?" Alone.
"No. But your siblings were pretty drunk." Delphini curls her lips into a provocative smile. "I saw them leave together. Do you think they went off to snog?"
Al instantly regrets feeling any pity towards her. "You're such a bitch," he snaps. "I don't know why I even bother."
"Wait!" she blurts out, pulling to her feet. "I'm sorry."
It must be the alcohol in his system that makes her expression look so earnest and innocent. Especially when he knows she's anything but.
"You're not sorry," he tells her with a sharp laugh. "You're used to saying and doing whatever you want and getting away with it."
Her mouth flattens into a line. "Is that what you think of me?"
"Yeah," he says coldly, "it is."
"You were the one who had everything," Delphini says in a tight voice. "You had everything I wanted."
"Me?" Al says in disbelief. "You and your dad just waltzed into our lives—"
"My parents got divorced too, in case you forgot!" Delphini snaps. "And who did I have? You had your dad, your siblings, your cousins. A whole fucking family to support you!"
"I don't—"
"I have a father who wouldn't even look at me," she continues, her voice breaking, "and a mother who should have gone to Azkaban but didn't because it would cause a scandal."
That isn't the point at all. That isn't fair. "It's not a fucking competition!" Al throws back.
Delphini stares at him for a long moment. "You're right," she says, suddenly deflating. "It's not. It's not. But we should have—should have been friends! We should have done it together but you—" He watches her eyes flicker from violet to blue to green before she closes them. "You won't look at me anymore, either. You hate me."
Guilt lances through him. "Delphi," he tries, "I'm not—I don't—"
"You do," she says, sounding calmer now. "But I understand. It's just like when my father looks at me, all he sees is her. When you look at me, you remember what happened to your parents. You remember the divorce, and what it did to you and your family."
Al swallows. "That's not true, Delphi. I don't think of you that way."
"It's alright." Delphini exhales deeply, taking several steps towards him. "I can make it better."
He has no idea what she means until her eyes meet his, and her face melts into another's.
The kiss did not last very long. Al stumbled away from her and fell awkwardly onto the floor. "Rose—"
But Rose was no longer Rose. She was dark, tumbling curls. Brilliant, violet eyes.
Delphini Riddle blushed as she sank to her knees and crawled towards him.
"Are you alright?" she asked anxiously. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just—"
"What the fuck?" Al demanded, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "What the fuck is wrong with you, are you insane?"
"Al—"
"Stay away from me!" He scrambled back until his shoulders hit the wall.
"Wait," Delphini pleaded. Her hair was turning ginger again. "Wait, Al…"
"You're just like your creepy mum," Al accused, pulling to his feet and sliding towards the door. "A weirdo and a freak. Stay away from me."
Heart pounding, he fled the room, taking the stairs two at a time until he was back outside where it was safe.
The party was still going strong—Uncle George had moved onto Muggle magic tricks. Al sat down next to his dad and tried to calm his breathing.
"Hey, where've you been?" Dad asked, pulling Al under his arm into a half-hug. "You're missing all the fun!"
"Nowhere," Al muttered. "Where's Rose?"
Dad frowned. "She's at home with Hermione's parents. Bad case of dragon pox. Why do you ask?"
"No reason." Al stared ahead at the blazing fire pit, trying to ignore the tingling in his lips, the echo of warmth that lingered there.
"Muggles can't catch dragon pox," Dad said reassuringly. "So don't worry."
Ten minutes later, Delphini emerged from the house. She sat down next to her father and stayed there for the rest of the party.
Al did not look at her, not even once.
"I can be different," Delphini promises. She closes the distance between them and takes both of his hands in his. "I can look however you want me to. Maybe not like Rose, but someone else—" Her features distort, reforming into lighter, softer ones. "You liked Annabelle in sixth year, didn't you? I overheard Lily talking about it—"
"You're crazy," Al says weakly. "I don't—I don't want you to look like someone else, that's insane—"
"I'm not," Delphini promises. Her eyes are now a clear, cerulean blue. "I really like you, Al. I do. I know you feel like you don't fit in with your family, with your house. I feel the same way. I've been alone, so alone, my whole life, but you make that feeling go away."
Al is speechless. For the last several years, he's convinced himself that he hated her, wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. But now, standing so close to her, feeling the warmth of her hands in his, he wants to push her away and pull her closer at the same time.
"I've been trying," Delphini whispers. Her fingers skim against the side of his face. "I've been trying to be what you want, but I don't know what you want. You need to tell me."
"Mum's not coming to the wedding," James said. He collapsed onto the bench next to Al and threw an arm over the backrest. "Dad's upset but won't say so. I think he was really hoping she'd come around."
Al sighed and tipped his head back. "I know."
"Delphi's going to be the maid of honour."
"Good for her."
"I'm going to be walking her down."
Al glared at him. "Good for you."
James held his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm just saying. It's supposed to be you. You know that, right?"
"I'm not going to the wedding," Al said flatly.
James pulled a face. "Sorry for fucking asking, I guess. I just hoped you could let it go for one bloody day. Dad really cares what you think."
"He only cares because I'm the only one of us who hasn't forgiven him for leaving Mum." He knew it wasn't true even before he finished getting the words out. It was not their dad he had difficulty forgiving.
"You still don't get it." James scowled. "They were fucking miserable, Al—"
"I don't care, okay?" Al snapped. "You walk Delphi down the fucking aisle and whatever the fuck else you want to do, but you don't get to tell me what to do."
James stood up. His jaw was stiff, his eyes hard. "Yeah. I'm going to walk her down the aisle because it's the right thing to do. That's what I want to do." He shakes his head. "What do you even want, Al? You want to hold a grudge over our parents' divorce for the rest of your fucking life? You want to hate Delphi just because she was a part of it?"
"I don't—"
"It's fucking selfish, is what it is. You're so stuck on your own shit that you can't even see what this is about. It's not about you, Al. You think you're the only one who suffered? You think you're the only one who was hurt? I got hurt. Delphi got hurt. I don't remember you ever asking me how I fucking felt about it."
Al wanted to say something—anything—but he couldn't find the words.
James blew out an angry breath. "I'm glad Dad's happy. And I know you'll be happy for him, too, once you pull your head out of your ass long enough to see it." He stared at Al a moment longer, then said, "Just talk to him, okay? At least tell him to his face if you're not coming."
"I—okay." Al swallowed thickly. "I will, I promise."
James' eyes softened. "Good." He took a step closer and lay a hand on Al's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, alright? Lily worries about you."
Al tried to smile. "I'll do my best."
Al can't move, his mind a jumbled mess of confusion and conflicting emotions. What does he want? He doesn't want to be angry anymore. He wants to move the fuck on with his life, but he's not sure how.
Delphini says nothing, but her hands tighten around his own, and he's reminded of how they ended up here in the first place. All of the complicated twists and tangles of their lives that led to this moment.
"I was jealous," Al says, and his voice is unsteady, thick with emotion. "I was jealous you had a mum that wanted you when mine didn't seem to want me."
"I know," she says gently. Her face has finally shifted back to her own. "And it's okay."
The pressure in his chest eases. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. What now? His body already seems to have an answer—he can feel himself gravitating towards her, closer and closer.
Al reaches up for a lock of her hair and curls it around his finger. Marvels in how soft it feels, like silk against his skin.
Without another word, he leans in and kisses her.
Delphini gasps. This is no longer his first kiss—he knows what he wants now. He doesn't want the dozens of girls that Delphini has tried to be. He just wants her. The soft press of his mouth against hers, the touch of his hand on the nape of her neck, drawing her in.
When they finally break apart, Al's head is still a mess, but he feels…calm. He's not angry anymore. He doesn't have to be.
"If it's not—if it's not too late…" Al bites his lip, thinking it over, then says, "Maybe I could convince James to let me walk you down the aisle tomorrow."
Delphini smiles. Her eyes are bright and dazzling and very much her. "I'd like that," she says. "I'd like that very much."
Al padded into his parents' room, teddy bear in hand. Mum was there, sitting alone on the bed, her eyes damp and tired looking, her pretty red hair in messy tangles. She'd been crying again.
"Are you and daddy having another fight?" Al asked. The arguments, however quiet his parents tried to keep them, always woke him up.
Mum ruffled his hair as he climbed onto the bed next to her. "Yes, but I'm thinking it's going to be a bit more permanent this time, sweetheart."
"I don't want you to fight anymore," Al said tearfully, clinging to her side. "Can't you both say sorry?"
"I'm sorry, love. It's not that simple." She drew him into a warm hug, her voice a whisper in his ear as she added, "You're my brave little lion, alright? We'll get through this together."
"Okay," Al said, not sure if he believed her.
Mum kissed the top of his head. "Your dad and I love you and your brother and sister so, so much. We will always be here for you."
"Okay," Al repeated, cuddling closer. He was too tired to ask another question, but he trusted that no matter what, everything would be okay in the end.
After a while of resting safely in his mother's arms, he fell asleep.
.
END.
A/N:
tw: mention of love potion usage, though it is not explicitly shown in the story.
this pairing was fun to explore, though i think it ended up being more about the family dynamics and al's place in his family rather than specifically about them. let me know if you liked reading them together and i might try it again some time 🌹💕