Is this a monthly-release schedule being respected? It is!

Now, a word or two of advice before: it's more packed with dialogue and exposition stuff than the previous two but the infos are all vital for the whole arc and story. This chap is a "necessary evil", in a way.
Second and more important, there will be mention and discussion of child abuse.
Nothing particularly graphic, but it occupies quite the spotlight in the central part of the chapter so better to be warned about it.

As usual, enjoy the chapter and comments and critics always welcome'd :)

CHAPTER 3

Pain will come

Two hours and half had passed since she'd arrived at St Mungo's A&E. Hermione was resting on a comfortable armchair, a mug of hot chamomile in her hands, her eyes closed. The headache that had attacked her on her arrival was gone, Ron had been called and reassured (well, more or less. She'd still called past 3am) and Delphi had been accompanied to the surgery Hermione was now in front of hours ago. She only had to wait and rest.

Kingsley had showed up a couple of times and tried to wait for the visit's end with her, to no avail: he'd been requested somewhere else every time. Hermione really wouldn't have wanted to be in his shoes right now. The hospital was so warm, after all, and she'd completed all her tasks. Surely she could concede herself a little nap?

"Herm" said a familiar voice from her right.

Apparently, no.

"Hermione. Please"

Alright, alright.

She opened her eyes and looked up. All patched up, with the wand's arm resting on a scarf and his hair more ruffled than usual, Harry was looking at her with a troubled expression.

"Sorry" he said "Syda told me I could've find you here and... damn" he paused, unsure.

Hermione remained silent, waiting for him to continue. But Harry dodged the topic. "How's the kid doing?"

"No idea. No healer have left the surgery since they went in, so... it can be bad or mostly alright and they just want to check everything they can. Or both" Let's try to distract him a little more. "The

chimaera? Heard anything about Rowle?"

"I've heard they moved it directly to the Scamanders sanctuary. And Rowle... well', she's till in coma, but not in direct mortal danger anymore. She'll survive. Last time I saw him, Duncan was organising watch shifts for her room. He was also shouting at the poor healers to "move their asses" and find a way to wake her and their Head was royally pissed with him".

Poor healers. The Auror's Head tantrums were so legendary even Mad-Eye would've been proud. She chuckled, grateful for the distraction.

"But anyway, I didn't come for this"

Unsurprisingly, but she kept feigning ignorance.

"Herm, what the hell happened at the manor?" he pressed "I mean, disliking me? That's accounted for, I doubt any ex Death Eater families weave my praises to their kids. But she acted as if I wanted to kill her. That's quite extreme, isn't it?"

"Well, you've seen them. Damocles unleashed that beast and was willing to kill his own sister to not let us discover his secrets. He's probably been painting you as a boogie man for years" she reasoned.

"A boogie man doesn't trigger a panic attack, come on. It was something else. It was... personal" Harry was clearly missing the bigger picture, but of this he was sure, she could tell that much by his tone and expression.

What should I do? she panicked Should I tell him or not? Should I let Kingsley handle this?

"But you know that, don't you? The real reason" he accused her with a hurt look "You kicked me out the second you saw me being in the same room as her. And... I was there, when you comforted her. I didn't overheard, but you knew why she was so terrified and you were able to calm her" Harry made a fist of his free hand "What's going on? I tried to talk to Kingsley and he avoided the topic like the plague. Look, if my presence hurt her, I won't stick around. But I need to know if I've done something. Maybe I can fix it".

He was begging her now, and Hermione's heart ached. There was nothing to "fix", per se, in what had been done; but she could already see the expression he'll made; she knew how Harry, loving, overwhelming with kindness Harry, would react at the revelation.

And exactly because she knew and they were best friends, Hermione realised she couldn't have someone else tell him.

I'm sorry Delphi.

She rose from the armchair and pointed to the door of the nearest closet, the mug of chamomile still in her hands. One of them was going to need it in the next minutes.

"Not here".

Harry was having a horrible feeling right now. He had pushed and pushed till Hermione had given up, and he'd been relieved when she had, but now he was worried. His friend had look so tired, so wary... and so hurt, on his behalf. When he had told her he would've liked to eventually fix things she had almost being on the verge of tears... because she was sorry for him. On top of that, she had insisted to talk privately and had cast every kind of protective spells around them and the tiny closet where they were hiding, reeking of disinfectant and medical potions.

"I didn't lied" she began abruptly "She's terrified because the Rowle did raised her in fear of you. They probably told her for years that, had she crossed your path, you would've killed her".

His mind revolted at the thought "That's ridiculous. I was recognised for using expelliarmus instead of lethal spells back then, I used it on Voldemort, and suddenly I'm the one out to kill people?". How dared they. "Why should she believe such a thing? Even the elves knew the truth, I talked with them".

Hermione shook her head "You don't get it. She didn't thought you were a child murderer, she thought you would've been after her".

"What? I didn't even knew she existed until five hours ago and you say she's been raised thinking I was... what, hunting her down? And for what reason, if I may ask?" he hoped Hermione's spells were holding because he was shouting.

She gave him the tiniest, saddest smile.

"To finish the job".

"Hermione" he tried to reason, to stay calm "I never crossed the Rowle. They were... irrelevant. Some members were never convicted or even accused. So. What have I done to this child, exactly, for her to think her death would be an accomplishment for me? It doesn't make sense".

His friend hid her face in her hands and Harry almost freaked out. Something was very wrong here.

"Harry" she started, without looking at him "She's not a Rowle. She's been living with them since she was a baby, hidden in the estate, but she's no Rowle".

What...

"What were her parents..."

"They're dead, Harry!" Hermione shouted. She looked exhausted "They're gone" she repeated and sounded... relieved? "She's been an orphan since the Battle. And..." she paused, as unable to continue, to explain. Which meant...

"That they were Death Eaters too" he concluded. That was it, then. The Rowle had used her parents deaths in the Battle to made him her monster.

"No" Hermione wasn't done "I was about to say "and you made her so", actually" she looked at him as apologising for what she was doing "That's why it's personal Harry. Because you killed her parents that day" another pause, while Harry was more confused than ever "You... and Molly"

Molly? Molly and he, at the Battle? They had killed a family? No. Hell, he would've remembered it! And Molly! Molly, who had never killed anyone in her life...

... apart form Bellatrix.

And he, Harry...

God.

"Have you put it together?" Hermione asked quietly.

But Harry wasn't able to answer her, his mind in a state of shock.

This isn't true. This is a nightmare. I'm dreaming. She can't be… I can't have…

Hermione had to be kidding. This was all an elaborate ruse, no alternatives. True, it explained everything, from the child's terror to her being kept hidden, even Voldemort researches. But his mind refused to accept it.

"Hermione, how can it be? We raided all the Death Eaters mansions as soon as the war ended. Where was she? Bellatrix lived with her sister, and the Malfoy… they testified for days. They never mentioned a child. No one ever mentioned a child! She can't be…" he felt nauseated "Riddle's".

Don't tell me I created an orphan the day I avenged my parents.

"Harry"

Don't!

"Harry" she pressed gently "She is a Parselmouth. I saw her talk with snakes in that grove. And it wasn't me who distracted the chimaera, it was her, her talking with the tail. There is no doubt about that, unless you think I'll ever lie to you on this subject".

He clenched his fist so hard his nails sticked in the palms. "I know you won't. I… just…" he sighed "What now?"

He was met by a similar sigh "I don't know. I really don't know. I'll have her stay with me for the time being, then we'll see, I suppose".

He nodded, just half listening at her. Voldemort had a child. His brain was spinning around the news like a top, trying to find some sense. If he had wanted someone to experiment upon, he had had lots of muggleborn children in his power from August to May. And if the test subject had to be younger then he could've just kidnapped one? Who was there to stop him back then? Or had the child just happened, unplanned, and he'd decided to roll with it and empower his own bloodline? Or else, had it been planned, to be a better second in command than Bellatrix or Malfoy could've ever been?

Every time I think he could sink now lower, there he goes. And that would also mean it wasn't a one night thing and he and Bellatrix used… someone get this picture out of my head this instant!

Merlin, he knew Bellatrix was out of her mind but this… urgh.

"Hermione, I think I might need that mug of yours" he said. As she lend it to him, her pocket started to glow. With a frown she pulled out her coin and lightened up as soon as she read the inscribed message. Hermione waved her wand dispelling the protection spells and headed for the door without a word, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him along.

"Are the healers done?" he inquired.

"Kingsley just texted me, he's waiting out of their door right now. Hurry".

He hadn't even had time for a single sip.

And indeed Kingsley was waiting for them at the surgery's threshold with three healers, only one of them familiar to Hermione. Their grim expressions weren't exactly promising, but she tried to think positively. Voldemort wouldn't have his own blood damaged, would he? He would have wanted her to live, to properly use her, right? Right? She was visibly fretting by the time they reached the group and shot a look at Kingsley hoping for some kind of reassurance: maybe they'd already told him something. But he just shrug his shoulders as he let them enter the surgery before him.

This doesn't look good.

The healers briefly introduced themselves and led them through a short corridor up to a small office where they were invited to take a sit. Hermione did as told and started to observe the room and its furnitures as an attempt to calm down.

"Before anything else, miss Granger" began healer Abbott, and Hermione's attention shifted to her in a hurry "I'd like to compliment you for tonight. Children with such experiences learn fast not to trust adults, but you managed to win her over: she's spent the last two hours praising and asking for you. I hope you'll stop to see her after the meeting".

I interacted with her for such a short time and she already ask, must be starving for affection. I wonder if it was deliberate.

"Of course I will. I... I actually intended to take her home with me... if the hospital doesn't want her to stay, that is".

Abbott smiled "She'll be delighted, I'm sure. And no, we don't think a longer hospitalisation required for the time being".

Her and her colleagues smiles then faded away as she grabbed a block notes and frowned. Even Kingsley leaned forward from his seat.

"Alright, then" she began "Good news first: we made several tests and found the child physically fine and in good health; quite strong, in fact. Delphini, that's a greek name, isn't it?, denied she had ever been beaten or received physical mistreatment and when we looked into it, we found as she said. There's a new spell to make the body reveal its past condition and injuries, so we can be reasonably sure of this result. Given the evidences, I deemed a further investigation in her memory not appropriate... especially given how uncomfortable she is to have magic performed on her person".

"What do you-" tried to ask Harry, but he was cut short when Abbot introduced her Indian colleague as one of the best experts on magical experiments and humans alterations.

"And here's where the good news end, I'm afraid" he started.

Not exactly encouraging, in Hermione's view, if "she wasn't beaten" was the best they could hope for.

"I skimmed those handwritings you Aurors retrieved" he began "The practice is obscure and known to a few of us; it is mentioned in historical texts and was at its, let's say, peak of fame during ancient times of civil unrest or conflict between ancient wizards and their muggle counterparts civilisations. I will need to consult other colleagues and it won't be easy, but it shouldn't kill the child and in theory it can be dealt with".

"Excuse me" Hermione, thought glad the healers wouldn't have to start from scratch, had spotted something she didn't liked and had to be sure she'd understood "Did you said "in theory"? There are no known countermeasures?"

"That would depend on your idea of countermeasures miss Granger" answered he offering an apologetic smile "If you wish to undo the process or erase the damage already done, then no, there are not".

Oh.

"On top of that, from my observations I believe the historical ritual has been modified and made more brutal to maxims the results. It will take time to discover if we're facing a known variant or a new one. Or worse, if the current results only depends on errors made following the proper ritual".

He halted and briefly waved his wand against the wall on their right, where pictures started to appear side by side: photos of Delphi's arms.

The first one showed her arms stretched, fully covered from palms to elbows in those bloodstained bandages. It was upsetting, but not even remotely as much as the following.

In the other picture the bandages had been removed and the damage was fully visible. Jagged red scars, some of them long as an adult hand. White (perhaps older, or better healed?) scars, smaller but almost everywhere, forming what it looked like a pattern. Bleeding open wounds.

Hermione found herself unable to divert the look from the wall. She remembered how the girl had dismissed their concerns over her arms as it was nothing and even worse, as it was a good thing, something meant to aid her. Barbaric.

"This is why I know we're not dealing with the regular ritual" said the healer. "This level of damage is unheard of, at least in the texts I've studied. And since in this kind of magic what is visible is just a symptom of the internal wreckage... it give us an idea at the extent of the manipulation".

"Is it painful? Does she suffer?" she asked.

"The bandages are meant to keep the pain at bay and prevent the magic to escape her control until she can master it as intended: think of them as a sealing artefacts".

Another wave of the healer hand and photos of said bandages, glowing in a red light, appeared.

"But yes, once they're removed, it's painful. It took us quite some time to convince her to remove them, she feared the pain. I asked some questions, trying to stay vague, and she told me that her..." he made a brief pause and spat the following word "... guardians always said the rituals were a necessity to reinforce her magic. That she was... defective and thus in dire need of it. I deemed the girl too upset to let her know the truth and just reassured her she'd been brave to endure it".

Here, he looked directly at her "Nonetheless, I strongly suggest to approach the topic and have her known. Don't let this idea take more roots on her mind, it won't end well".

Hermione took advantage of his pause and cut in "Have you already decided a course of action, is there a therapy or anything we can do in these days?".

He shook his head. "I won't take a single step before consulting with other experts, the situation is too delicate. The child said the monthly ritual was performed this evening shortly before your arrival, so we have a full month of time. All I can suggest for now is: keep those bandages on and a close eye on her arms and her general health. And do come back in two weeks, by then I'll have continued my researches and we'll be able to do a more accurate analysis".

I may reconsider that statement about Voldemort wanting her to live, after all. So much for being a magical prodigy when messing with obscure rituals in the wrong way can kill your daughter. And leaving instructions to your not brightest men. What an idiot.

She took a pen and a little piece of paper from one of her gear pockets and wrote everything down, underlining some concepts here and there. She raised her head only when healer Abbot cleared her throat.

"My apologies" she offered "I'm sure all of you just want to go home, but before you leave I must add my diagnosis to healer Mehra's one. This will concern especially you, miss Granger, since you're going to take her home".

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair but nodded nonetheless. She silently told herself to get a grip, pushed her chair nearer Abbott's desk and prepared to listen. A subdued noise on her left told her Harry had come closer as well. But healer Abbott wasn't talking, though. Playing with her block notes, torturing her hands, as on verge of saying something and then holding herself back.

"Healer, there is even worse to say?" said Kingsley at last "I quite assure you we can all endure it".

"It's bad, but that's not the problem. If I may, Minister, I am holding back because I simply cannot stand the thought to be met with dismissal and laugh, not with the current stakes".

Hermione was completely taken by surprise. Healer Abbott was one of the best of the entire structure. She had published in international medical journals and her work with children was renowned: she was an authority.

"We... we known your history Healer. Could you elaborate?" said Harry. Hermione was sure he was remembering how Abbott had saved Teddy three years before, to expect laugh from him was unbelievable.

"I may be a Pureblood from a long standing line, and I may had had a very traditional mentor here, mr Potter, but I had been interested in our muggle colleagues way of dealing with illnesses long before the Second War. They have a branch of medicine, psychology, almost unknown to us, you and miss Granger must know about it, that I've spent years studying. A sub branch of the discipline is specialised in dealing with children and their specific issues. Issues sometimes so deep seated that they incubate for years and then resurface when there's nothing left to do. Illnesses not provoked by spells or creatures and that a potion or a spell cannot cure, no matter how much we wish they could. So, so many of my fellow magical colleagues or patients dismiss it without a second thought, no matter their blood status" she paused, her voice hoarse.

"We are stronger, after all. We can handle a lot that muggles can't. But I can say without doubt that our minds are no different, and wizard-kin minds may break as much as muggle's, even without magic involved". She quietly pointed at the pictures still on the wall "This child mind may not break, but if nothing will be done she will suffer from the aftermath of her childhood for years, and I..." another pause, as she was remembering something painful "I will not stand by and let it happen again". She looked right at them "Now you can laugh, if you wish. Won't be the first nor the last".

No way on earth I'm going to. I may be in the mood to curse someone, but it ain't her.

"Healer Abbott. You will tell us your diagnosis right now, and tomorrow you and I will have a long discussion with the faculty".

She smiled "Thank you, Minister. Now" she turned at Hermione with a new resolve "it won't take long: unsurprisingly, she's not used to be around many people or strangers and while her first reaction is extreme shyness or attempting to hide, if pushed too hard she can become aggressive in order to be left in peace. I believe this to be a self defence mechanism over not being loved and fear of adult wizards, so I suggest for her to have time to get used to her new place and the family, have patience and don't push her to met your friends or other children. When she will feel more comfortable around you, that will be the time. And start with children, since she's already curious of them and, most important, they won't be perceived as threatening".

"You mentioned fear of adult wizards" interjected Kingsley "Haven't you said she wasn't mistreated?"

"We said she hadn't been physically mistreated. No human contacts allowed bar the Rowle siblings, coldness, little affection showed and tortures sold as cures are as grave as beatings and even more damaging in the long term. Which in fact tie with the extreme discomfort she feel when someone try to perform magic on her. She will endure it and won't be vocal about it but you will may notice how she'll try to shift away or retire in herself and put on a distant expression when magic is inevitable. I assure you it's not coldness, but fear. Outside a controlled and familiar events like a lesson she tie magic performed by adults with being hurt in the rituals"

The urge to wake Euphemia Rowle and repeatedly punch her was growing in Hermione by the seconds.

"Let's assume she get hurt" she asked "Should I refrain from using magical aids?"

Abbott shook her head "Not necessarily. But approach the subject with care, explain to her what are you going to do and why and, this is important, if possible, do demonstrate the spell on an object first. Do take care not to wave your wand around her arms, though, you may trigger a panic episode. We did this mistake in the first minutes of her examination and then spent a quarter of an hour to calm her attack"

Hermione wrote everything down, already thinking about moving some WW goods they had home in the basement and making a mental note to inform Ron and George as soon as possible.

"Then there's the subject of her plush".

She raised her head from the notes at once, worried. What did Abbot knew? Had Delphi let something slip by error?

"She's... almost emotionally dependent on it. Her being fond of it isn't bad, mind you, and if it's the only reminder she have of her parents it's even more understandable, but she refuse to let it go or to be touched by strangers, saying there are "recordings" in it and then refusing to add anything else. I wouldn't want the toy had been provided instruction or informations to influence her, so please be careful of it".

It's good that she doesn't suspect a thing, but if Delphi refuse to let them be heard then hey're probably in parseltongue. This is bad. Very bad. Harry can't speak it anymore, we have no way to check.

Hermione took another note and apposed a little snake near it. Then, when she tried to raise her head from the paper, her vision went black. She blinked three or four times and had to shake herself to successfully fight back the dizziness, but couldn't suppress a yawn.

"Herm!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine" not really "I'm just a little tired, that's all. You were saying healer?" she said, supporting her head with a hand.

"No, mister Potter is right. It's past 4 am and all of you have had a terrible night. Go get Delphini and go home, we can make an appointment in a better date and discuss the situation as long as we wish. And by then you would be already able to tell me how she settled in in the first days, so all the better".

Hermione nodded, grateful, and said yes, of course, she will call the hospital the next day, yes, yes, please, led me to her. Healers and Aurors rose alike from their seats and left the office. Kingsley, Harry and healers Mehra and Abbot headed to the exit while Hermione was accompanied to Delphi by another one, a old witch that had assisted silently for the whole discussion and was now thanking Merlin and Paracelsus for having such kind and competent people in charge of something in this institution. Needless to say Hermione wasn't exactly listening and only came out of her stupor when, introduced in a highly illuminated surgery, she heard her name being shouted from a corner of the room.

Delphi was sleepy, tired and scared. The healers had been nice enough, but she still hadn't liked them one bit. Removing her bandages and trying to take away her owl, all the no in the world to that. Her arms were really hurting now, the wounds burning from the air exposure. At least they had left her alone when she'd asked, she appreciated it.

They had even conjured a bed for her to rest, with warm blankets and a soft pillow, a place to sleep until miss Granger hadn't finished talking with them and had come to pick her up, or so they had said.

She had tried to lay down and sleep, she really had. The first time, the idea she'd left too much slip and the healers had figured out Father had kept her awake and trembling, waiting for them to come back and curse her. The second, her arms were hurting so bad she'd suspected Damocles had messed up the ritual and the healers were trying to figuring out what to do.

The third it had been the awareness of being completely alone, on a not shielded bed, in the middle of a highly illuminated room in St Mungo itself.

And the fourth, the always lurking thought that miss Granger was done with her. She had kept the promise to took her away from Ravenscar after all; she had no reason to come back anymore.

And so Delphi had abandoned the bed, taken a couple of blankets, the pillow and settled for the floor. She had immediately looked out for a corner: easier to defend, with her back and sides covered, and with not one but three spots where to put the pillow and let her head rest. She had also chosen the corner with the best view on the door and was still looking at it, restless. She knew the possibilities of anyone bar a healer trespassing that door were low. Elves were the kind of people to drop by and say hello even if they weren't compelled to, not wizards. She missed them so much. Still, she waited, her eyes glued to the door, unable to abandon that tiny sparkle of hope.

"I want to give you a home. People who'll love you"

She wanted to believe it. Part of her, the one which'd made her sit on that floor, clung to it, but she was almost nine now and she knew better. Father had told her he would've come back and she had believed him. She had waited for years, until the day she'd overheard Damocles and learnt he wasn't going to. Miss Granger had no reason to come. Delphi was just the child of her enemies, what kind of person used to take care of that? Not the ones she knew or had studied about.

Her eyelids were heavy, the blanket she'd wrapped around herself warm and cozy, and Delphi leaned her head on her kneels and closed her eyes.

Just a moment. I'll rest just a moment, I promise.

She was slowly losing consciousness, floating in a comfy little bubble, when a sudden noise shook her from her numbness. The noise of a opening door, and women's voices. Delphi stiffened against the wall, unsure if she had to fear or not, but removed the blanket: if she had had to defend herself, her arms had to be free.

Everything happened in the span of seconds. The first woman, the old healer, stepped in without spotting her and ran to the empty bed. And then, someone else entered the room. Dark skin, fuzzy black hair, torn gear. Her breath almost stopped for a moment. She had come back.

Delphi felt the tears streaming down and didn't bothered to wipe them off while raising from her spot and running towards miss Granger.

"Hermione!"

She almost stumbled on her way, the sudden transition from sleepy and sitting to vigilant and standing being too abrupt for her tired body, but she managed to get to the woman and master enough self control to halt before hugging her.

Which turned out to be perfectly useless, as miss Granger knelt and hugged her herself: a little embarrassing, but Merlin if it didn't felt good.

Delphi hid her face in miss Granger's mass of curly hair to muffle her voice.

"You came back. I thought it would've ended like with Father, but you. You came back. Thank you". She lowered her voice once more "I told them the less I could, just that I've lived at the manor since forever and knew nothing about my parents".

Miss Granger nodded and murmured a "Well done" before loosening the hug and looking at her, smiling. She did that a lot, she and the other adults too: Delphi had been noticing it during the whole evening and night now, but it puzzled her like the first time, all these strangers smiling and being nice to her for no reason. Not that she was complaining, but the difference with her experience so far was glaring.

"Of course I did. And if you're fine with it, I'm going to take you home with me right now. We both need a good sleep, don't you agree?"

Her home?

Delphi nodded, speechless and fighting back the tears. "Lemme get my plush and I'll be ready".

About ten minutes later, after miss Granger had confirmed that yes, she had the Minister permission, please, it's past 4:30 am... they were finally ready to go. Apparently you couldn't apparate within the hospital walls for security issues, so she and miss Granger were now standing on a little platform in one of the hospital's gardens. Delphi had been wrapped in three different blankets and while she had had problems moving during the transfer she was now all warm and well, while on her right miss Granger was trembling from the cold, waiting for the old healer to set up their portkey, her hands shaking.

Have I tired her so much she doesn't remember to cast a warming spell on herself?

She moved in front of the older woman, grabbed her hands and wrapped them in the blankets, rubbing them together to increase the warm. When the witch looked down to her with a surprised expression, she smiled. Saying "thanks" wasn't enough and all this physical affection thing was a bit alien to her, but she could improve.

As the portkey became ready, miss Granger freed herself, took Delphi in her arms and touched the boot in few seconds. It was very abruptly, but Delphi didn't complain: she wanted nothing more than a bed and hours to sleep and she suspected it was the same for the woman.

Few moments of panic, the horrible sensation of being throw into the sky, her sense of direction becoming completely shaken and useless, and then it was over.

They had popped up on a hill swept by the rain, in front of a little two-storey house, very different from Ravenscar and not even a quarter its size: the house elf working there had probably nothing to do for days. Miss Granger took her hand, guided her at the little entrance and then, after evaporating the rain from both of them, opened the door and gestured at Delphi to precede her.

She hugged her plush and stepped in the same moment miss Granger managed to turn on the lights. The room she saw was half an entrance hall and half a living room, as the architects had had no space for both. Strange. There was a limited area on their left, near the door and the wall, where boots, shoes, cloaks and various other things rested (Delphi spotted something she suspected be a physical umbrella, fascinating), be it on the floor, in a shoes cupboard or on a clothes hanger, all mixed with... colourful toys? And she could've sworn she'd saw a little dark mark rolling away, but it was probably her mind playing tricks.

The living room was tiny, so, so tiny, but warm and colourful, unlike the ones at the manor. It was full of fluff and soft things, cushions and toys all over the two sofas; with a library (more of a badly assorted bunch of shelves, really) exploding with books, which she liked a lot. There was a fireplace, obviously, and when miss Granger fired it up Delphi immediately moved to approach it, but something else draw her attention away. A thin, rectangular object with a little central leg, black as ink and with a mirror-like surface, put on a low piece of furniture against the wall in front of the bigger sofa, positioned to be seen from any place of the room. She had never seen such a thing.

"First time you see a TV? I can show you how it work, but... tomorrow, 'kay? Now let's go upside, I'll get the guest room ready and we'll finally have our rest"

She nodded, her eyes wide with excitement, and Miss Granger gave her a tired smile before removing her own cloak and Delphi's blankets and putting them on the hanger. They crossed the living room together, with Delphi looking at everything but firmly on the witch trails, and reached what, despite being plunged into darkness, was still recognisable as the stair hall.

"Hermione Jean Granger" said a voice in the dark, making her hide immediately behind said Granger and grabbing her "It's a quarter to five AM and you called three hours ago. Explain".

The staircase light was lit and a man appeared on the landing, his arms crossed on the chest and an expression similar to Damocles's "what else have you done now" one. Delphi peered over Granger's side for more seconds and examined the man's features. From what she could see from her position, he was quite tall, maybe a head and more than Granger, red haired, with a short trimmed beard and some dark drawings on his arms. Was this the other friend of Potter, the Weasley? He was a little less mentioned at home but sometimes, when Damocles was busy ranting about the past, his name was cursed as much as the other two.

"I know, and I'm sorry Ron. But I had to stay longer" miss Granger wasn't moving, keeping Delphi out of sight as much as she could. She didn't wanted to make it more difficult and retreated behind her back. After all, she had a long and successful experience in ears-dropping and stair-listening and she didn't need to see to understand the mood.

"Look, your dedication to your job it's amazing and I'll never tell you how to do it, but you can't call in the middle of the night to tell me the Death Eaters fought back with a bloody chimaera and you're all right but at Mungo... and then disappear for three hours. You can't, Mione. It scared me to death and I was so upset I made so much noise that Rosie woke up and cried for an hour straight" he took a pause and went down the stairs, jumping two steps at a time and stopping right in front of his... wife? lover?

He suddenly hugged her and since Delphi wasn't fast enough to get away from the woman, his hands brushed her head. They both halted. The brightness of the room's light increased and Delphi, hugging her owl the hardest she could, found herself looking right in a pair of light blue bewildered eyes.

"Mione" he said, still hugging her while furiously blinking at Delphi.

"... yes?"

"Am I hallucinating… or is there a child behind you?"

"You're... not". Miss Granger sounded extremely embarrassed and Weasley was still blinking. Delphi couldn't really blame either of them.

"Hello?" she tried.

Weasley let go of his woman and stepped aside to face her, his expression becoming more bewildered by the minute.

"He- hello to you too, little one. I am Ron Weasley" a little pause "... you are?"

"Delphini, sir. Just Delphini" she remained quiet for a moment before adding "I'm no Rowle, though".

His eyes narrowed and he had just opened his mouth when miss Granger put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

"Not now, please. Damocles Rowle escaped, Euphemia is in coma and Delphi had nowhere to go, so I offered to let her stay with us at least for tonight and tomorrow. I'll explain everything but... let me put her to sleep before, okay? She's just eight".

Two months and I'll be nine, but yes, please. I'm tired.

"Oh, s-sure" he was quite shocked, it was evident, but quickly resettled, smiled and then bowed gesturing at the stairs "Let me do the honours, ladies". Miss Granger chuckled amused while Delphi didn't know what to think.

Is the world full of nice people and I lucked out at the manor or what? He just found a stranger in his home and is already kind to me.

If miss Granger's family and friends were all like her and her man then she wanted to stay in this house forever.

The bedroom was less than half the size of her previous one, just like the house, but she liked it nonetheless. To begin with, it was warmer and the bed was as big as hers. And the fireplace was closer to the bed, too, with a beautiful blue fire devouring the logs. But most of all, Delphi just knew this was supposed to be just a bedroom and not her only safe place in the building. From what she'd observed and heard at the hospital, no one would've cut her arms open in this house. She knew the rituals were for her own good, of course, but... the healers had seemed horrified back at Mungo, not resigned, so maybe there would be another way to fix her?

Also, when she'd entered the room for the first time, she'd found her plushes already pulled outside the truck and put everywhere, with the Thunderbird under the duvet to keep her company.

Miss Granger had made them wait outside for few embarrassing seconds and when she'd called again everything had been put into place.

"I thought you could've felt more comfortable surrounded by your things from the beginning, especially given how sudden has been the change" she explained. "I know it's not the same but-"

Delphi had heard enough. She run right to Granger and hugged her with all the strength she could gather, her eyes puffy. They remained so for a while, in perfect silence, till Delphi felt her eyelids closing and then everything happened very confusedly.

She was being hold in miss Granger's arms and lifted and carried to the bed. Her clothes were replaced by a pyjama in one blink and she was made to lie down and the duvet tucked up to cover her, all between a yawn and another.

Everything around her was comfortable and safe, and the Thunderbird's familiar mass at her side made everything better. She yawned and blinked a few times and had just the time to murmur a sheepish "good night" before her consciousness finally faded away.

A word about some choices I made in this chapter.
I'm aware that there's a section of fandom who like not to criticise but to bash the wizarding world for its shortcomings and glorify the muggle one. I don't want that and I'm not interested in writing bashing.

That said, neither in the books, the movies or the ancillary canon (Pottermore, interviews etc) is ever shown something akin to a figure for professional psychological support and help or any kind of child services. Instead, is very clear how uninterested most wizards are in the "muggle" world. I opted to have them being generally in the dark regarding these matters, with some people pushing the change forward as Hermione did for the house elves.

Second and last, Delphi's psychological issues, which only begin to be discussed here.
I made my researches and consulted with a therapist about how to handle her character, which I want to do at the best of my abilities, but I can't assure there won't be mistakes. If you find something wrong, please, let me know so I can do my best to fix it.