A/N: Once again thanks so much for all the support, this story is now at 325 views!
The next day was eerily silent at Azkaban. James avoided looking at Delphi directly, his gaze wandering anywhere but her. He checked the cells, he patrolled the hallways, but he couldn't summon the courage to look her in the eye.
Delphi watched him, her arms folded across her chest, her face unreadable. The silence was becoming unbearable, the tension growing by the minute.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. As James walked past her cell during his rounds, she called out to him. "Potter!"
James froze in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest.
She stared at him, her gaze piercing. "How long are we going to ignore the elephant in the room?" she asked, her tone firm.
James turned slowly, meeting her gaze for the first time since the kiss. He felt a knot in his stomach, but he knew they had to address what had happened.
"I don't know, Riddle," he replied, his voice barely audible. "How long are we?"
The silence that followed was heavier than before, their shared acknowledgement of the incident hanging between them like a tangible object. James stood, his heart pounding, steeling himself for what he had to say next. "It was a mistake, Riddle," he finally muttered, struggling to meet her gaze. "I shouldn't have done it."
Delphi blinked, her face revealing no discernible emotion. She'd expected this, hadn't she? After all, she was the one who had instigated the moment of intimacy, spurred by a desire to rattle him, to bring a bit of chaos into the tedious routine of prison life. She didn't expect it to affect her as much as it did.
The silence stretched between them. Then, surprising even herself, Delphi found her voice, "Did you... Did you like it, Potter?"
The question hung in the air, its implications as hard as the stone walls surrounding them. This wasn't about the kiss anymore; it was about what the kiss represented, the shifting dynamic between them, the budding, unwanted emotions that they both struggled to understand.
James looked at her, his green eyes meeting her icy blue ones. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He didn't know how to respond, how to put his confusing emotions into words. For the first time in his life, James Sirius Potter was left speechless.
"Yes," James confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Yes, I did like it."
Delphi's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected him to admit it. After a moment of silence, she found her voice again, "Good... because I did, too."
James swallowed, his eyes searching hers. This was new territory for both of them, uncharted waters fraught with danger and uncertainties.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, James cleared his throat. "It can't happen again, Riddle," he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. He was setting boundaries, trying to regain control over the situation.
Delphi nodded, her expression unreadable. "I agree, Potter," she said, the words equally bitter in her mouth.
They both knew that despite their agreement, something had changed between them. The elephant in the room was not only addressed but also acknowledged, its presence unsettling, throwing their worlds off balance. They were entering a new chapter, one that promised nothing but uncertainty and emotional upheaval.
Days passed in a blur, and slowly but surely, Delphi and James found themselves falling back into their old rhythm. The awkwardness slowly faded, replaced by the familiar banter and sharp exchanges that had come to define their relationship.
One day, James found himself asking a question he'd been wondering about for a while. "Riddle, do you still plan on killing me if you ever escape?"
Delphi raised an eyebrow at him, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "First off, Potter," she retorted, "it's not 'if' I escape. It's 'when'."
James couldn't help but chuckle at her unwavering confidence.
"And secondly," Delphi continued, her icy eyes sparkling with mischief, "as long as you keep me entertained... I'll try not to maim you too much."
James laughed, shaking his head. It was bizarre, he reflected, that he was laughing about a potential future where he could be hunted by Delphi, but that was the strange nature of their relationship. They had a unique bond, forged in the most unlikely of circumstances, and despite the oddness of it all, James found himself cherishing their interactions.
On one of his days off, James found himself at The Burrow, the Weasley family home. His Grandma Molly, known far and wide for her culinary prowess, was in her element in the kitchen. The air was thick with the smell of various magical and muggle foods, but one distinct aroma caught James' attention.
"Peanut butter fudge?" James asked, trying to conceal his excitement.
"Ah, you always had a keen nose for sweets, James," Molly replied with a chuckle, sliding the tray of fudge off the stove top.
A crazy idea formed in James' mind as he watched his grandmother cut the soft, gooey fudge into squares. "Grandma, could I take a piece for... a friend?"
Molly eyed him curiously but didn't question further. "Take a few, dear," she replied, wrapping a handful of fudge pieces in a small cloth.
The next day, James was back at Azkaban. He managed to sneak the small package past the other guards and into Delphi's cell. "Here," he said, sliding the cloth-wrapped bundle through the bars.
Delphi raised an eyebrow, carefully unwrapping the bundle. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the peanut butter fudge. "Is this..."
"Molly Weasley's famous peanut butter fudge," James finished for her, a proud grin on his face. "Try it."
Delphi took a cautious bite, her expression unreadable. Then, her eyes lit up, and a genuine smile crept onto her face. James couldn't help but return the smile, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction in seeing Delphi enjoy something so simple, something so human. It was a small victory, but in the cold, harsh reality of Azkaban, it felt like so much more.
The routine hadn't changed. James, alongside eleven other Aurors, was once again tasked with escorting Delphi to the showers. As they walked through the stone corridor, the resonating echo of their footsteps was abruptly interrupted by a shrill voice.
"Delphi, dear!" Dolores Umbridge called out from her cell, a twisted grin on her face. "I just know you'll escape one day, and when you do, I'll be right there by your side!"
Delphi glanced at the older woman with evident disdain. "If I was going to escape, Umbridge," Delphi retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "why would I need you? A washed-up, useless toad."
James had to stifle a chuckle at Delphi's remark. The other Aurors cast wary glances at each other, but no one said a word.
"Such disrespect!" Umbridge huffed, but her face had grown pale.
Delphi merely rolled her eyes and continued on, showing no sign of being fazed by Umbridge's dramatics. As they moved away from the cell, James caught Delphi suppressing a smirk. Even in the grim reality of Azkaban, moments like these brought a spark of defiance, a spirit of resistance, that made their days slightly less monotonous.
Once the excitement of the confrontation with Umbridge died down, the prison returned to its usual droning quiet. After Delphi's shower, she was taken back to her cell, where James stood guard, the silence of the stone corridor punctuated by the sound of distant dripping water.
"So," James began, "Umbridge really gets under your skin, huh?"
Delphi's eyes darted towards him. "Are you trying to analyze me, Potter?" She shot back, her voice a cold monotone.
"No," James shook his head, "Just making conversation. I can't help but notice how she affects you."
Delphi snorted, "Affects me? Potter, that woman is a disgrace to the magical world. I despise her, yes, but she doesn't 'affect' me."
James couldn't help but press further, "Still, you always respond to her. Isn't that just what she wants?"
Delphi's gaze hardened. "Perhaps," she conceded, "But it's hard to ignore a pestering bug. Besides, isn't it satisfying to put that toad in her place?"
James chuckled at that. "Fair point."
There was a pause, and Delphi looked away from him, her eyes falling on the cold stone floor. A shiver ran through her body, and she rubbed her arms to ward off the chill. "This place gets to you," she said, her voice softer. "Even if you don't want it to. It creeps into you, making you vulnerable, reactive."
James studied her profile, noticing for the first time the subtle hints of vulnerability on her face. He was reminded that beneath her bravado and her infamous lineage, Delphi was also a prisoner. And while he may not agree with her past actions or her father's deeds, he couldn't deny the human suffering present in Azkaban. "I guess everyone has their battles, huh?" He murmured, more to himself than to Delphi.
She didn't respond, but he saw a glimmer of acknowledgment in her eyes. A quiet agreement. After a moment, she turned back to him, the glimmer gone, replaced by her usual steely gaze. "But don't mistake this for weakness, Potter," she warned, her tone regaining its edge. "I'm not broken. Not yet."
The interaction left James with a profound sense of understanding. As he stood guard, he couldn't help but feel that he was getting to know the real Delphi, the woman behind the daughter of the Dark Lord, and it unsettled him in ways he hadn't anticipated. He couldn't shake off the disquieting thought - could there be more to Delphi Riddle than he'd originally assumed? And if so, what did that mean for him?
James found himself alone with his father in the Potter family den one evening, the air filled with the soft crackling of the fireplace and the crisp scent of old parchment. Harry was engrossed in an old book, a piece of his never-ending quest for knowledge about the wizarding world's history.
"Dad?" James began tentatively, causing Harry to look up from his book, his famous emerald-green eyes showing traces of both curiosity and concern. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, James," Harry responded, setting his book aside and giving his son his full attention. "What's on your mind?"
James took a deep breath. "Do you...do you think people can change?"
Harry studied James for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "That's a big question, James," he replied, his tone gentle. "It really depends on the person and the circumstances."
"But you believe in redemption, don't you?" James pressed on, his eyes seeking affirmation.
"Yes," Harry nodded, "I do. But change and redemption are not always the same thing. People can change, certainly. They can learn, they can grow, they can choose to do things differently than they have in the past."
"But?" James added, sensing the hesitation in his father's tone.
"But, James, change isn't something that can be forced," Harry answered, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "It's something that has to come from within the person. It's a process that requires a genuine desire to change, and the effort to make it happen. Not everyone is willing or able to make that effort. And even then, it's not an easy road. There are ups and downs, and sometimes, there's resistance, even from within."
James felt a lump in his throat. "So...it's not guaranteed?"
"No, it's not," Harry replied, his voice soft. "But that doesn't mean it's not worth believing in or fighting for."
James nodded, digesting his father's words. He knew Harry was speaking from his own experiences, his own battles, and his own moments of struggle and perseverance. He had faced darkness and emerged from it stronger and wiser. And perhaps, James thought, if someone as resilient as his father could believe in change, then maybe he could too.
In the silence that followed, a certain understanding passed between father and son. One of shared struggles, of complex questions, and of the belief in the possibility of change. For James, it was a moment of clarity - the realization that he too was capable of influencing change, in ways he hadn't yet fully understood.
Delphi sat on the stone cold floor of her cell, her back resting against the rigid stone wall, her attention fully caught in a book. It was one of the few luxuries allowed to her. The silence that had fallen between her and James was far too comfortable for a place as sinister as Azkaban.
James, on the other hand, found his gaze involuntarily drifting towards Delphi more often than not. Today was no different. He had questions. Questions that were more personal, questions that might upset the balance of their somewhat peaceful coexistence. But he needed to ask.
"Delphi," James broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"
Delphi looked up from her book, a single eyebrow raised in question. She was on guard, he could tell.
"About your childhood," he continued. His voice was careful, considerate.
Delphi stiffened. There was a long pause before she spoke. "Why?" Her voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.
"Just...curious," James admitted, shrugging his shoulders.
Delphi was silent for a moment before she decided to answer. "I was raised by Euphemia Rowle." Her voice was distant, as if she was seeing images from a past she'd rather forget. "She was always abusive. She'd always tell me I'd meet a sticky end." She chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Guess she wasn't wrong."
James found himself taken aback by her candidness. He knew the Rowle family had been Death Eaters, but he had never heard this side of Delphi's story.
"That's... rough, Delphi," James said, trying to convey his sympathy, "No child should have to go through that."
Delphi shrugged, returning her attention to the book. "It doesn't matter. It's in the past."
And yet, James thought to himself, it had shaped her into the woman he saw before him. A woman of power, ambition, and a terrifying history. But also a woman who, for some reason, he couldn't help but feel drawn to.
He could only imagine the kind of strength it would take to grow up in such an environment, and it only deepened his curiosity about Delphi Riddle. Yet, a part of him couldn't shake off the unsettling thought of how a person's childhood could leave such deep and lasting imprints on their life.
The following day, Delphi and James returned to their familiar routine of playful banter. It felt comfortable, normal even, considering their peculiar circumstances. Despite their differences and the looming shadow of the past, they had managed to form a strange bond.
"Respect your elders, Potter," Delphi teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Elders?" James questioned with a raised brow. "You're what, a couple of years older than me at most?"
Delphi chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "I'm 25, Potter," she informed him with an air of mock superiority.
James' eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's... six years older than me," he calculated, more to himself than Delphi.
The surprise quickly morphed into curiosity. Did it matter that she was older than him? He found himself looking at her, studying her face. Yes, she was older, but she was still young, and undeniably beautiful. Her eyes were vibrant and full of life, a stark contrast to the grim environment of Azkaban. Her dark hair fell in a messy tumble around her shoulders, and her skin, though pale from lack of sunlight, held a certain glow that was hard to ignore.
"Wow, I'm surprised. I didn't think I was chatting up an old lady," he joked, trying to lighten the mood and shake off the strange thoughts that had started to creep into his mind.
Delphi rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh. "Very funny, Potter."
It was then that James realised the gravity of what he was doing. He was, in essence, flirting with Delphi Riddle. She was a prisoner, and he was her guard. She was also the daughter of Lord Voldemort, something that he couldn't afford to forget.
James quickly shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. It wasn't right. He was here to do a job, not develop feelings for a prisoner. And yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn't completely rid his mind of the thoughts about Delphi. It was a conundrum that he knew he'd have to figure out. And soon.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. It seems Delphi and James are starting to fall for each other, do you all think this could work between them?