It's 3:30 a.m. and I really need to go to bed but dear Ehpoca this is for you. For the very nice review and for sticking to the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Big honest thank you to technically everyone who takes their time to read this!
Ta-Ta
Disclaimer: OB and HP bla bla not mine...BBC America and Rowling bla bla bla theirs.
It was getting more and more obvious that Delphine was struggling with pretending that nothing happened between the two of them. Cosima genuinely was not that surprised, considered herself even somewhat lucky since Delphine did not scream bloody lesbian at her in the corridors nevertheless the turn their relationship took was fifty different shades of unpleasant.
On the rare occasions when they meet in the library Delphine sits across from her, out of reach for Cosima's itching fingers, silently, nose buried in several different books on advanced transfiguration. At first Cosima tries to make casual small talk, jumps from assignments to Potions to Herbology desperate to bring back the spark in Delphine's clouded eyes, the passion with which the other girl normally responded, though it seems to be for naught.
Delphine's answers, if they are verbal at all, not limited to mere hums and nods, are curt, mostly one-worded, nurturing Cosima's notion that the blonde is a million miles away, anywhere than here with her.
Throughout the following days the Ravenclaw geek notices that not only Delphine's mind evidently escaped her rather the girl as a whole is fading away right in front of her eyes. Her hair actually is a mess languidly and knotted nothing like the golden, glowing mane Cosima is used to, her normally warm, deep brown eyes are dull and strangely colorless skipping from a line in her book they do not see, to Cosima's face until she gets caught, to the window, back to Cosima, demonstrating just how jittery she is, how restless while the dreadlocked teen fails to completely convince herself that it is not because Delphine truly is not okay with being around her. She is nearing plain denial when it strikes her that the French becomes more and more like a ghost, that she gets paler almost every day making the dark circles under her eyes unsettling prominent, that she comes late and leaves early, vanishes into thin air and stays untraceable for the rest of the day.
Rachel and Allison tell her that Delphine stays in the Slytherin common room this week, though she is a scarce guest around the fireplace, nowhere to be found when her two twins settle in their beds and already up, up and away the next morning.
Cosima sees all this, knows all this, is painfully aware of the distance Delphine creates between them which feels deeper than the Mariana Trench but she has no courage, no bravery to ask Delphine why she keeps tormenting herself and it tears at her heart with wet, sticky fingers. She takes whatever she can grasp, too selfish to risk that Delphine tears the pathetic remains of their bond into blood-red shreds.
Her heartache propels forward into a new dimension when Delphine rejects kindly, politely, in five sentences which is the most she said to Cosima in days, the Ravenclaw's offer to sit with her and her siblings during the first Quidditch match of this school year. Between uncomfortable and weary she looks honestly sorry before she leaves without a see-through lie on her lips not even giving Cosima the satisfaction to be angry at her. Delphine does not openly lie to her, at least not that she is aware of, she simply does not tell and Cosima has trouble deciding whether that was better or worst since neither is the truth.
The match is Gryffindor versus Slytherin a Hogwarts classic in gold and silver, red and green and one big, grand, terrific win for Sarah and her teammates due to Ron surprisingly ruling the pitch in front of the three rings and Harry unsurprisingly catching the snitch.
Everyone is already celebrating the lions' epic success in the Gryffindor common room while Cosima walks across the now deserted Quidditch field, relishing in the calm after the storm and in the resinous, tenacious aroma of her pot, tempted to empty her head of all thoughts.
It works agreeable well, until she winds through the bleachers to shorten her way to the castle and two voices drift to her ears from not very far away. It is the first that makes her dive behind a wide column. She almost did not recognize it because she never heard Delphine be this cold and dismissive and it sends a chill down her spine:
"I don't know what you're talking about."
She has to stifle a gasp, in pure Allison manner, when she recognizes with whom exactly Delphine has a secret meet and greet:
"You're lying! You were sent by them to help me!" Draco Malfoy screeches, voice doubling over in anger and Cosima swears she hears a tint of panic:
"I don't need your stupid help! I need no one's help! He chose me!" he shouts getting louder and louder.
"I am not here to help you, Malfoy. I do not care what he chose you for and I do not care about you. I am here for my own reasons." Delphine answers menacingly calm, words colder than ice. Cosima is shivering where she is hidden in the shadows, hands clasped tightly over her mouth so her silent whimpers are not heard by the arguing duo. She does not want to hear this, whatever it is, whatever it means; she is not supposed to know.
For a couple of moments the air around her is silent and she almost thinks the two left when suddenly Malfoy bellows:
"Screw you, Cormier! You and your fucking family!" The she hears gravel scrunching and this time he is leaving for good. Delphine stays behind muttering something in French while Cosima is too scared to breathe:
"Casse-toi idiote." Delphine screams at the top of her lungs out of nowhere and Cosima moves her hands from her mouth to press down on her ears. She does not want to hear this.
Cosima wants nothing more than to forget what she heard, it is the only understandable reason for her to drink so much fire-whiskey that her bed was more of a carousel in the early morning hours but she keeps mulling over the information she involuntarily received nonetheless. Even with a pounding headache she understands pretty fast that Malfoy plots something indeed and that someone specifically selected him to do so. She does not ignore the possibility that you-know-who was that someone though the idea is so distressing that she reverts to Snape a not necessarily better option but definitely less scary.
That conclusion was the easier to make while the other tears her up so much she would be thankful for the first time ever in her young life if she could erase the memory well and truly from her brain. The first thing she declares for herself as truthfully is that Delphine does not collaborate with Malfoy, that she is not part of whatever he is planning and that she has no notion what it might be. But she is in the loop on something and that alone makes Cosima question what exactly the other girl kept from her since day one.
The milky sunlight casts blurred light into the small greenhouse where Prof. Sprout hides her female Cannabis plants and where Cosima currently renews her stash. When the door behind her creaks, her heart stops and curses tumble helplessly from her quivering lips:
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" she silently chants while she hastily grabs all her belongings and shoves them into her bag. She whirls around, so sure to find her teacher standing behind her with a furious expression that her heart stops all over again, gets coughed up into her throat, climbs into her mouth when the person she comes face to face with is neither an adult nor furious.
"Holy fucking mother of fucking Merlin." Cosima gags, bracing herself against a table as her heart slumps back into her ribcage.
"Je suis désolée. Sorry. I did not mean to scare you." Delphine says softly, standing in front of the closed door, hands buried deep in Cosima's favorite black coat, hair for once tamed in a forbiddingly cute bun.
"Try again next time." Cosima mutters bitterly, catches Delphine's slightly hurt expression before she retrieves her yet half-empty pouch and continues to fill it with buds. She hears how Delphine comes nearer, hears her boots on the dirty floor and feels her eyes burning holes into her back.
Eventually she sighs and turns back around:
"Why are you here?" Her voice is flat and admittedly a bit cold but she is angry, why, she is not really sure, maybe because Delphine does not tell her shit or maybe because she does not seem to trust Cosima with any of it or because she runs away from her own feelings, hides them away somewhere where Cosima cannot reach them. In the end her pent up frustration releases itself in her tone and in her posture and in her will to not be fake okay today. She leans back, waist pressed against wood that is warm, heated up by some floating flames above them, her arms are crossed tight in front of her chest and she hopes her face looks as stoic as she wants to.
"Because I…" Delphine starts, halts herself by biting her lip, just the right way to make Cosima's legs feel like someone hexed all the bones away:
"Because I'm sorry." She says finally.
Cosima raises an eyebrow in response although her determination already begins to crumble. Delphine has a way of melting Cosima, molding her into a silly, giddy, grinning fool. She is already working her magic with those damn puppy-eyes and that damn lip-biting so Cosima mentally slaps herself to stay focused.
Probably Delphine interprets her silence as a sign to go on:
"I have been an asshole." She mumbles while she steps a little closer.
Cosima shrugs, nods, shifts from one foot to the other and keeps her mouth shut not letting Delphine of the hook so easily:
"I am sorry for…being away so much…and not paying attention…and…and…and." There she stumbles over her words, squeezes her eyes shut, inhales, exhales, visibly tries to grasp the correct words, opens her eyes again:
"Merde, Cosima…Je suis désolée parce-que j'ai te blessé. I hurt you and I'm sorry…" she huffs, seemingly frustrated with herself and the whole situation and Cosima believes her.
She does not doubt that Delphine is sorry for the way she behaved the last two weeks but she is still angry and hurt because Delphine still is rigid, stiff, in a flight or fight position looking every bit like she is about to bolt out into the fresh air again.
If she lifts her arm she can touch Delphine's now and when she does her theory gets proven since the blonde cringes and flinches like she carries some deadly disease. Her arm falls limply to her side and she does not even try to hide the snarl in her tone:
"It's not contagious ya know?"
Delphine has the audacity to look puzzled at her, head cooked to the side with big questioning eyes and Cosima scoffs:
"Me, touching you doesn't make you gay, Delphine!"
Realization dawns on the French's haggard face as her eyebrows draw together in a frown her own voice shaking with emotions Cosima did not expect:
"You think that is what this is about?"
Cosima throws her hands in the air which speak for themselves in twists and dibs and turn using an exceptional pictorial language to make Cosima's emotions visible somewhere else than on her face, transferring them from inside to the world around her, to Delphine:
"Yes! That's exactly what I think!" she shouts, makes the glass vibrate, makes her frustration audible in her voice, makes it visible with her hands which slam against the table surface:
"For the last two weeks…you…you couldn't stand to be only in the same stupid room with me! You…you kept me…so far away from you…you needed a bloody stick because arms-length wasn't enough!" she goes on, being on a roll now, riding her anger like a wave.
Delphine is getting riled up herself now, Cosima sees it in the deep lines which become visible on her forehead, how tight her jaw is set, how cramped her fingers look buried in her skirt:
"If you hated the kiss that much then why are you still here?" Cosima demands to know, she thinks she has a right to know, she definitely has.
Suddenly something breaks in Delphine, something like a barrier, a wall that hid all the emotions, kept them in check until now. Something raw and wild brings back all the thousand colors to her eyes and ignites a fire in them which grows and grows until her eyes are smoldering black pools of something that Cosima's innermost part reacts to.
She blinks and then Delphine is onto her like a storm with hands and lips and teeth, so ferociously, so fierce it makes her dizzy, gasping for a breath Delphine stole away from her, pushing and gripping with wandering, frantic fingers under which Cosima's skin comes alive in shuddering waves. Her lips are warm and soft yet so vehemently unyielding, they are bruising, nipping on Cosima's bottom lip, wandering to the corners of her mouth, to her jaw, tasting every patch of skin she can reach.
Cosima responds with equal desire, with sheer abandonment, throws her arms around Delphine sinks her fingers into golden locks that spill over a creamy white neck, rakes her short nails over Delphine's skin, pulls her, commands her to be closer. There is no air left to hold on to nonetheless her breath evaporates into oblivion when Cosima feels Delphine's tongue dance across her bottom lip in an untamed hungry rhythm barely able to wait for permission.
Cosima gives it to her, readily, willingly and instantaneously, opening her mouth, inviting her with long, broad strokes her own desire to taste too overwhelming to give Delphine any time to explore Cosima with her tongue.
Delphine is liquid lightning in her arms, a gorgeous, mighty force of nature striking Cosima with hands that anchored themselves to her hip, spreading Delphine's erratic pulse all over her skin, burning her by trailing bruising lips from her chin, to her jaw, to the spot behind her ear while the hot breath she ghosts over her flushed skin causes not only Cosima's knees to buckle and her arms to tighten around strong shoulders but to almost flying off the edge. The blonde paints herself to the roof of Cosima's mouth and Cosima is reduced to breathless moans and whimpers which make her whole body shake.
Delphine's lips come away with a wet pop immediately followed by Cosima's pleasantly tingling ones though the blonde gently bumps their foreheads, brings a hand to Cosima's face, to cup her cheek, to cradle her jaw, leaving barely enough space between their aching mouths for words:
"This is how much I hated the kiss."
Cosima crushes her lips back onto Delphine's with an urgency that is born from her desire to be swallowed, swept away by a kiss which Delphine loves.
BTW Delphine tells Malfoy to: Piss off, asshole!
If you're French and my translation is wrong please correct me!
tbc.