#delphini goes to Hogwarts

[daughterofyourdarklord]

What are some of your headcanons for the Delphi and the Trio universe? I’m into it!

There's no easy way to say this, anon, but... I overdid it.

Please enjoy a far too detailed accounting of just some of the HC I have for this "first war alternate-universe" below:

Delphini is born in October of ‘78 - because of when her birthday falls she’s only one year above Draco and Harry Potter in school despite being closer to two years older. 

Bellatrix is barred from direct combat the day they find out about her pregnancy. She resents this, but would never refuse a direct order. She diverts her focus and leans into the dark arts heavily as a means to extend protection to their unborn heir. Calling upon the constellations, chanting blood rites, the constant brewing of obscure potions - her magic resonates with Delphini’s own, the baby responding to it long before she has taken her first breath. 

Still, Bella is an asset in strategy. She’ll show up to meetings with ancient runes stitched up her neck and down her fingers, blood from a recent sacrifice trailing on her robes. One day, her curses run so dark her eyes shift completely black for an entire week. The death eaters are lost somewhere between horrified and awed.

Dark magic is a constant in Delphini’s life since infancy. Ancient runes scrawled across new skin in blood, cursed objects perfectly placed for her protection, bewitched portraits lining the walls of her nursery. She finds comfort in it since before she can remember. 

Her parents are horribly busy for most of her early life but they still manage time to see her. The Dark Lord had established what is closest to His permanent residency in LeStrange Estates, a whole wing of the castle dedicated just to Him. Delphi and her mother spend the most time there. 

Rather than leaving Delphini with her sister, Bellatrix whisks her away to the Blacks just before she is arrested. They take her to the Ministry to ensure there's record of her so she can enlist at Hogwarts. There’s not. “She belongs to all of you?” Walburga, Cygnus and Druella glare back at the Ministry worker imploringly. “Yes.” Her blood runs Black and one test is more than enough proof, it’s not protocol to question a magical child’s parentage. 

The loss of both of her parents so suddenly is devastating. At night Delphini dreams of them, both of them, alone - scared, searching for each other. Delphini hurts just the same, it’s a constant state of free fall. She can’t help but feel like it’s her job to save them both.  

Of course, she gravitates towards Walburga. Something about the matriarch feels the most familiar, like she can almost pretend. The little witch will never fill the hole permanently cut into her great aunt’s heart but it feels slightly less raw in her presence. 

Delphini’s first year at Hogwarts will be Nymphadora’s last. When the Black’s take her to Diagon Alley they run into Andromeda. They ignore her completely despite the other witches and wizards leaping out of their way in anticipation for rivers of cataclysmic magic. She looks like Bellatrix and for a moment Delphini aches. She doesn’t know it but Andromeda is thinking the same thing.

Ollivander looks at her curiously. Yew, Dragon-heartstring, eleven and a half inches, unyielding. Very interesting. 

Before the start of her first year her Uncle Lucius has a gift for her. “It was your father’s.” He explains as he hands her the diary, the binding of it is soft and worn, the magic radiating off of it feels oh so familiar. Delphini is thrilled, it is one of the first things she uses when she gets to the castle. The pages are blank, until they are not. 

[poetryandbloods-blog]

I confess that, apart from Teddy and Delphini (after CC), I never really cared about the new generation of Harry Potters. They live after the war in a time of peace, and if I were to learn more about this universe, I would prefer to explore the past. But one idea that has always stuck in my mind is Rose/Scorpius, mainly because of the little rivalry that Ron seems to want to instill in her since before school.

I like to imagine Rose as the polar opposite of Hermione. She is soft and feminine, loves pink, frills and makeup. Her favorite aunt is Fleur, and she is very inspired by her cousin Victoire. She is intelligent, but she doesn't spend all her time reading books. She is a Ravenclaw and likes esoteric things like Luna. She has a huge wedding that is in all the wizarding newspapers right after graduating from Hogwarts, and becomes a kind of perfect lady who influences the witches. And Hermione doesn't understand how her little girl can be happy with a life that doesn't involve books and pure knowledge, until one day Hermione finally realizes that there's nothing wrong with wanting to be pretty and feminine and that intelligence goes beyond the academic world. People often want to get away from their parents' influence/personality and I see that happening to her, after all it must be hard to grow up with two war heroes.

[sofoulandfairaday]

Hello! I absolutely love your Delphini headcanons, I feel like her character in the Cursed Child did such an injustice to both Voldemort and Bellatrix >:/

If you don't mind, can you do a pt 2 about Delphini in an AU where the Lestranges and Voldemort live/win + raise her to be just as amazing!!

Hi! Thank you for the ask, anon ❤️

I'm glad you like them, since she's a character I personally really disliked in the play (not even her as a person, but she's just so horribly written- TCC as a whole makes me cringe so bad).

For reference, they are talking about this post especially and also this one about her conception & birth and this one too (for good measure).

Warning: anon, I know you want fluff. But you're not getting it from me, I'm an angsty bitch, and the following is angst.

So. The only way I can see Voldemort wanting for a child is for his own personal gain, to have a backup plan in case his body fails. A sort of dark magic experiment. Perhaps he knew his time in his own body was limited (and he did go for the Stone first).

Boy or girl, the sex of the baby doesn't matter to him, it's just a body, just a clump of organs and cells and blood and power - do not get attached, Bellatrix.

She tries to obey his commands but fails miserably the more time she spends with the child, which is more than you'd think, seeing as she's been punished and put under house arrest.

Bellatrix's desire for a little boy, a little Master, one who actually loves her, is indescribable. Voldemort is the one who would prefer a girl. He gets his wish.

The Battle of Hogwarts is somehow won. How? I'll go ahead and say that Draco never disarmed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, ergo Snape was the Master of the Elder Wand, ergo Voldemort manages to kill Harry, but all his Horcruxes are destroyed, Nagini included. As for Bella, deus-ex-machina doesn't work here, so she defeats Molly.

Narcissa did still lie, so the three Malfoys are sooo fucked.

Rodolphus and Rabastan both live. The latter goes down a spiral of hedonism in Ibiza, the former is just so done. In the last year, he escaped from Azkaban and was promptly shot out of the sky, was publicly cucked, his Gringotts' Vault was broken into and he has now been through a battle to the death in his former high school. Little Cissy, who he's known since he was a child, was killed before his very eyes and his wife is hiding her obvious pain and betrayal.

As for the relationship between Bellatrix and Rodolphus, I can see a few things happening. In this AU, I feel like Voldemort would ultimately make Bella his official concubine. I accept a variety of headcanons on what happens next because I ultimately accept a variety of different (conflicting) views on what the Lestranges' marriage is like.

(1) Nothing changes. He's still her husband, whether he still loves her or not (and I think he does). He stays with her because of the position & power her closeness to Voldemort grants him.

This, I feel, depends on whether or not she is allowed to share his bed, how possessive you think Voldemort is (and his whole relationship to sex & intimacy), and Bellatrix's own ambitions. If she sees the option to be seen as a wife to the Dark Lord, even if not in name, she would take it. But I don't think Voldemort would ever grant her that, so in turn Bellatrix wouldn't let go of the title of Madame Lestrange that easily. Rodolphus can sleep with other people, but can't get rid of her, especially of his own volition.

Or maybe she's just greedy. Rodolphus wants a divorce because he wants an heir of his own and a wife he can sleep with and she goes "Nope, nu-uh, too bad", and tells herself it's not because she deep down needs his love.

(2) They get amicably divorced and are still friends/have a good relationship. Bella has lost both her sisters now, and Voldemort is still Voldemort.

This happens especially if he wants children of his own. But realistically, I think he just starts pestering Rabastan until he gets married (“To a woman, Rab, a WOMAN!”) and has little Lestranges to carry on the family name.

Delphi has her mother's eyes. Dark, and entrancing. Rodolphus wants to hate her, he really does, but he cannot bring himself to. She's the spitting image of little Bella, and looking at her is bittersweet.

I think he avoids her in the beginning (this also depends on Rod's characterization - whether he doesn't care about children and never wanted them, or he desperately wished he'd have one with Bella - the answer exists on a spectrum).

But Bellatrix and Voldemort are not parents of the year. Also, they have such a unique relationship, one so unhealthy and all-encompassing, that it shuts out the rest of the world, their daughter included. And Rod can't help but feel bad for this lonely girl.

The really tragic thing is that - and I'm sorry but this is the truth, and it sucks - Bellatrix would never love her daughter more than she loves the Dark Lord. This knowledge is a trauma factory in itself, but to make matters worse, this child's father is Voldemort, who has no concept of what selflessness and selfless love are. Since Rodolphus is clearly the most emotionally intelligent of the three (the bar is low), some part of his dark little heart must recognize this.

Also, the Dark Lord is a man with a plan. He has no more Horcruxes left, he needs another one. Guess who?

The downside to this is that he needs to anchor his child to life - no matter, she is just an extension of him, after all. Children being their own people? Nah. - but more importantly this means he's paranoid now. More than he was before. His soul is so unstable that he cannot make new Horcruxes, Delphi is his last one, so he needs to protect her with all that he has.

When she's a child, she doesn't see him much. She lives a sheltered life, with her mother who loves her very much and gives her as much affection as she can, but who ultimately follows the Dark Lord around like a puppy, and Uncle Rod. Uncle Rod is the only reason this poor girl's childhood even resembles a childhood.

She isn't allowed friends, and Papa (Voldemort cringes every time he hears this, and teaches her to call him My Lord, the way your mother does when she's about five) won't allow anyone near her.

He's also very particular about her health, and her studies. He gets updates on how her magic is manifesting (violently; Delphi is immensely powerful) and decides he will teach her personally when she turns seven.

He demands she spend her days training and studying: grammar, math, history, the basics of potion-making; her mother insists that she learn her ancestry (the whole of the Black Family, and the Gaunts, and even some Lestranges, for good measure), Abraxan riding, the basics of etiquette (I hated it too, Delphini, but that's not a good enough reason for you to conduct yourself like a savage!, while Rodolphus shakes his head incredulously, wishing Druella was there to hear it). Rod teaches her how to dance and wants to teach her Quidditch, but both Bella and the Dark Lord grumble what a waste of time, so he settles on teaching her how to fly a broom (Voldemort still grumbles because he can fly without a broom and will eventually teach Delphi to do the same, but Bella is mollified and allows it).

Her flying lessons with her father (she can get away with calling him her father and takes advantage of that) are some of her most cherished memories, actually. He has granted no one else this honour, not even her mother. (She doesn't know about Snape and no one ever mentions him anymore, so...)

Bella gives her her very first magic lessons, when she's seven or eight, but soon grows bored with it (powerful as Delphi is she needs to start from the most basic Wingardium Leviosas, spells that Bella now performs nonverbally and wandlessly, without even thinking about it, and revisiting the movements and theory behind them bores her to tears). She leaves it to her father who - surprisingly - has much more patience than she does.

He was her teacher too, after all.

By the time Delphi is 11, she could sit a Charms N.E.W.T. and pass with flying colours, and she's very good at Transfiguration too.

Voldemort sees no reason for her to ever go to Hogwarts.

Are you surprised? I bet you are.

After all, Hogwarts was his first and best home, the only place he ever felt was his own, the best experience of his life. I doubt he loved anyone or anything as much as he loved Hogwarts, the symbol of being a wizard to him. Denying anyone that experience, especially his own daughter, reads as an unspeakable cruelty. But he's never said he wasn't cruel. Granting her that - fundamental, wonderful, life-changing -experience would be selfless, it would be the right thing to do.

But Delphi is his Horcrux, his key to immortality, and quite plainly... his. He doesn't give a flying fuck that she has very few social skills, no friends, has no idea how to talk to people her own age. He doesn't trust her to meet other people, to make connections, to fall in love, basically to be exposed to anything that might turn her against him, or endanger her (him).

Being a manipulative bastard, he tells a tantrum-throwing Delphi that she can choose: go to Hogwarts and spend seven years revisiting stuff she already knows, surrounded by people who aren't worthy to lick her boots, and I cannot deny how disappointed I would be, Delphini (and this just ends the conversation because Delphi would kill herself before actively choosing to disappoint her father) or she can finally come and live with Bellatrix and him, and they will teach her the Dark Arts and whatever else she wants. Most of all, it's the promise they'll be there, that she'll have as much access to them as she wants.

By the time she's an adult, she's much more powerful than Bellatrix ever was. (And I won't lie to you, Bella doesn't particularly love this.) But still, she cannot beat her father. What sets them apart is the source of their power. Delphi, despite the ache she feels for her parents' love and affection, was born coddled and cared for. Her mother especially would never shut up about how she was a literal princess, royalty, the heir of Slytherin, etc. She never had to fight for it. She didn't hear bombs falling on London, didn't starve in a cold orphanage in the East End, was never tied to a bed and exorcised as the Devil's spawn- she was never truly hungry.

For all that they can teach her, they cannot make her ambitious. If she had gone to Hogwarts, she would have still been a Slytherin, based on her heritage and values, but she is nothing like her parents, character-wise. Bellatrix fought against the contraints of her society and her gender, Voldemort fought against his blood status and his fear of death.

The source of conflict in Delphi's story, on the other hand, is the family dynamics between the three of them. (You can make them as horrifying as you want, there is really no limit to the worst, as we say in Italy).

Delphi was born in the cage, loves the cage, and doesn't want to be free. If anything, she wants to be pulled further into it. I think there would be some sort of weird rivalry there, between her and Bella, for Voldemort's affections because they really are that scarce. But it would also come wrapped in a thick layer of guilt - what mother hates their daughter when she is overshadowed? What kind of daughter hates the only parent that actually loves her?

(Voldemort doesn't even realize he pits them against each other, half the time. He does that to people, it's almost subconscious now.)

She's deeply alone, by design, and only wants to be close to her mom and (especially) her dad. That is literally the only character trait she has in that dammned play, so I'll keep that as part of her personality.

Voldemort definitely did that on purpose. And as soon as he finally notices tensions rise between her and Bellatrix (I think Delphi's teenage years were even more rebellious than Bellatrix's) he puts a stop to it immediately - if you drive the girl away from me, from us, Bella, I will make you pay personally.

I can see Delphi running away from home and getting into trouble because of her complete lack of awareness on how the world actually works, begging (through the Dark Mark or whatever else) her father to come rescue her, and Tom (who obviously watches from afar, to make sure his Horcrux isn't truly destroyed) saying no, deal with it. She gets out of most of it because of her immense power, but these brushes with real life leave her rattled.

Can you imagine a boy trying to hit on her?

If he knows who she is, she can never truly trust him: they're all trying to curry favour with her father (it's possibly the worst way ever to do so- trying to take something from him). If he doesn't, her absolute lack of social skills and general arrogance put a dent in her physical attractiveness. (She is a beautiful girl; after all, her parents are Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Black.)

Delphi is more powerful than Bellatrix, her position in society is higher than Bellatrix's and still, her father trusts her mother more than her.

By the way, no, she isn't his named heir, she isn't the commander of his armies or anything of the sort. Voldemort does not share power, that's the whole point of his character. The Minister is still a puppet minister, he is the commander of his own armies, and Bella is a close second.

She also doesn't make that many public appearances; people know of her by now, but they aren't granted access - the image of Nagini, his last Horcrux, in that magical cage resonates with me. It takes years before the war is truly over.

She grows up to be a wonderfully intriguing mix of arrogance and insecurity. Much like Bella, she grows up with the burden of being told she was destined for greatness because of her blood, her family, and not because she herself is great. Unlike Bella, Voldemort has no intention of setting her free, not even in the half-hearted way he does Bellatrix (guys, as much as we love them, she is very much his slave, however willing, in canon). She's the ultimate girlboss: beautiful, smart, powerful... 2/10 personality.

You can do what you want with her story from here onwards. One more tragic than the other. Or you can give them a happy ending, provided that Voldemort's brave new world knows what therapy is.

I don't think this is what you wanted, anon, but alas it's what I genuinely think would happen. Delphi's """"character traits""" in the play are her cunning (that she developed to survive, and that she wouldn't necessarily need in a world where she grows up a pureblood princess), her loneliness and the bone-deep need she feels for her parents' love. Since she wouldn't be herself without those... yup. This is my view.

(Sorry.)

[ao3feed-scorbus]

Deep Below the Waves

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/TUWbMwX by willdarknessdivide It's 1995, before the Second Wizarding War, Harry receives a visit from Delphini Riddle. Wanting to prevent the deaths her father caused by changing time, Harry and his friends abide, bringing Hogwarts into a state of distress as they learn how to fight, hide, and remain in the shadows. Words: 2698, Chapters: 2/8, Language: English Series: Part 10 of Delphi’s Version Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Delphi (Harry Potter), Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Euphemia Rowle, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Delphi & Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Delphi & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Delphi & Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Time Turners (Harry Potter), Morally Grey Delphi (Harry Potter), Canon Rewrite, The Golden Trio, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, but barely, Delphi Needs a Hug (Harry Potter), Heavy Angst, Delphi Goes to Hogwarts, and befriends the golden trio, and Draco Malfoy - Freeform read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52917037

[hezuart]

I have without even knowing it adopted the 'good Delphi' au, In my head she goes back to Hogwarts and when someone give Scrop shit about him being Voldys son she just- " HE may not be Voldmort's child but I am- and I will hex you"

LOL YESSSSSSS

Good Delphi AU lives rent-free in my head daily

If Delphi doesn't return to Hogwarts as a student, at the very least, she should return as a teacher. She taught Albus, "Slytherin-Squib Potter-Runt" magic, when others could not. She talked to Scorpius, a lonely student going through a crisis, and encouraged him to be courageous and fix his friendship with Albus, (which she got Albus's side of the story, and told Scorpius how he was feeling.)

And how ironic would it be if Delphini Riddle became the first permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Her father cursed the position out of pettiness, and the curse remained until he died. Delphi could be the youngest teacher in Hogwarts. She could be the best DADA teacher they ever saw.

She could be Slytherin's head of house. She can reconfigure the Slytherin house.

Some people think because Albus and Scorpius are Delphi's best mates and her cousins, she plays favoritism with them. Turns out she deducts the most points from them because they're brats who always get into trouble. :P

Also sort of unrelated but I play Fire Emblem Heroes and they just input an older sister / older cousin villain named Letizia and as soon as I saw her I was like "omygod its Delphi"

Look at her. amazing

and frck it, Albus can be Berkut and Scorpius can be Siegbert. The gang's all here

[asktheheirofslytherin]

why is voldemort as a grandfather kind of a cute concept to me, even though it isn’t ? let’s be honest, he’d probably show the child some super dark book at the age of two, for “educational purposes” only obviously 🙃 what are your hc’s on him as a grandfather if you don’t mind telling ?

Why on Earth should I sensor knowledge? I allowed Delphini to look at any book she so chose, I would not treat a grandchild any differently. I perhaps might be a tad more lenient on such childish antics - I may even witness an act of mischief and merely tell them to be a bit sneakier next time, lest their mother sees.

Children are amusing little creatures who latch on to everything as a game. I could see myself speaking only in parseltongue to them for a weekend or night for the sheer fun of it. When their mother embarrasses them as they grow older - as all mothers do, I have realized - I will be certain to share stories of the nonsense Delphini found herself in.

I would of course maintain the same standards for them that I held for Delphini when it comes to their marks at Hogwarts, their ability to duel and their loyalty to the cause. But while I did not spar with Delphini until she was about sixteen (her mother and Rod were her primary teachers), I could see myself engaging in a fun mock duel with an eleven or twelve year old grandchild. The pressure to be a primary teacher would be off, you see. I could merely enjoy myself.

[OOC: OK but can you IMAGINE Lord Voldemort is behind the manor "dueling" Delphi's kids, aged 11 and 12, and while they're advanced for their age he's Voldemort so it's comically mismatched, but hes SMILING, and the kids are GIGGLING, and he pretends to get hit with some stupid charm and then is like HA i faked you and hits the kid with a stinging jinx and goes if that was the killing curse you'd be dead, and the kid is looking in absolute awe at the welt on his arm like wow grandfather you're the best!" LMAOOO I love this]]

[daughterofyourdarklord]

But what if Delphini was at Hogwarts the same time as the trio???

Year 1: 

“Please.” 

She jokes, nudging at her cousin who’s sitting tall besides her in the train compartment. “Harry Potter being in our year at Hogwarts is nothing more than a gift.” She means it too, forcing away that pit of fear that settles in her stomach whenever she thinks about the chosen one. About everything he’s already taken from her family, from her.

Draco goes on joking with their soon-to-be fellow Slytherins. The express is buzzing with energy, though most of the First Year’s look more nervous than excited. 

She runs into Neville Longbottom on their waltz to the Great Hall. He bends directly in front of her, picking up some slimy toad off the stone floor with bare hands. Disgusting. He’s on his knees when he looks up and meets her eye, terror seeping into his gaze. She smiles at him devilishly, pausing for a moment before pushing him aside in an effort to get to what she is certain will soon be her throne room. 

“Delphini Lestrange.”

It’s a horrible cover-up of a last name, an obvious lie to any witch or wizard who knows better. McGonagal calls it nonetheless. There is a weight on her shoulders as she walks forward, the same one that’s settled their since the moment she was born. 

No one is surprised when the hat deems her a Slytherin.

Delphini feels Dumbledore’s stare on her the entire walk over to the sea of green and silver, but it’s Snape’s eyes that she meets when she sits down. 

The tension between Slytherin and Gryffindor is palpable. Worse than it has been in years, or so the older students claim. Delphini knows why, and Draco does too. 

She’s still glaring at the Granger girl when Quirrell asks her to stay after class in a sputter. 

“Of course, Professor.” She answers sweetly, watching from the corner of her eye as jealousy blooms across the mudbloods face. Ever the teacher’s pet. He seals the doors behind them, locking them with a flick of his wrist and casting a silencing charm while he’s at it. 

This time, he does not stutter when he speaks to her. 

Year 2: 

She dreams of a snake all alone, somewhere dark. Crying out for family, for companionship, for someone to listen. Anyone.

Only no one is there.

She wakes up in her dormitory with tears in her eyes. 

There’s been whispers about the Heir of Slytheirn. Talk that he’s returned, that he’s ready to rid the school of all filth that stands in his mighty way. 

Sometimes she wonders how people might react to find out that 'he' is actually a 'she.'

Regardless, it’s not Delphini that’s playing around in the chamber this year. A part of her is wildly unsettled that she doesn’t know who it is. 

It’s no matter, she has far more important things to focus on.

Initially, she almost isn’t allowed to take part in the dueling club. Some poor excuse sprouted up by the Gryffindors, accusations of dark magic and cheating. Unsurprisingly, its Severus that comes to her aid.  

Dueling comes far too naturally to her, and feels oh so sweet. Still she works harder, so eager, ready to fight, to strike. She trains and trains and then trains some more. 

She needs to be enough for Him, when the time is right. 

Potter being a parselmouth is.. Unexpected.

Even Severus seems surprised. Delphini is not sure how to handle the news, she writes home to her Uncle who informs her to stay out of it.

For the first time in a long time, she listens. 

Sometimes, she thinks she's going insane. She hears her father speaking to her through the castle walls, they whisper and she listens. She continues her training.

She will be enough. 

That poor snake. 

Year 3: 

The castle is awake, dementors swarming high above them, eager, hungry.  

She hates them. 

Delphini is determined and reluctant all at once in her venture.

Macnair had just walked out to call for the dementors, readying them to focus their rage. Quickly and quietly she slips into Flitwick’s office. 

They both freeze the minute their gazes meet. 

Eyes clashing from across the room, one hand still resting on the door handle, the other’s chained to an ornate desk. Sirius is the first to break the spell. 

“You look just like her.”

She shifts her gaze away at that, something in her shattering just a little. “I know.” She wants to answer, but she doesn’t have the time. 

“How did you do it?” 

This time, it’s him that doesn’t answer, eyes scanning her face almost wistfully.

“She’d never stop talking about you, you know? Drove the other inmates mad in her rantings, but really I think she just didn’t want to forget.”

And how that just aches. 

She shatters further. “How could you leave her!?” She wants to scream, instead she asks again: 

“How did you manage to escape?” Her voice sounds more desperate than commanding, close to a whisper. 

He smiles sadly. 

“She can’t do it..” Delphini waits for him to finish his sentence. It’s short, and certainly not the answer she was looking for. “I’m an animagus.” 

And that’s all she needed to hear. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, not bothering to hide her reaction. That familiar weight settles heavily on her shoulders again, for a moment she feels like she might crumble beneath it. Quickly she turns back to the door, ready to race out of the room and pretend he told her anything else. 

She pauses, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder to glance back at his haunting face. 

“Then why wait all this time? Why not leave that place the second you had the chance?” 

He doesn’t answer. 

He doesn’t need to.

Year 4: 

It was gorgeous, the bright green in stark contrast against the dark night sky. Constellations gleaming in its wake, a harmony in the heavens.

A terrorist attack, they had called it. 

Art, Delphini thought. It was the first time she’d ever seen it. 

Something was coming. Lucius seemed certain of this, even Narcissa had given them an exceptionally careful goodbye before ushering them onto the express.

The Triwizard Tournament turned out to be an even bigger let down than she’d imagined. Beauxbatons was a bore, and the Drumstang boys seemed scared of her, which was no surprise really. 

Karkaroff avoided her like a poor case of mumblemumps. 

His time would come, it was not up to Delphini to designate punishment. Not yet.  

Watching Potter almost die at the edge of each of these challenges did add a nice touch to the year. Though, all that anticipation she’d felt in summer dwindled a bit each time he survived. 

It wasn’t until Moody tracked her down in the corridors after hours that things really got interesting. 

Even Delphini was surprised to find Barty somehow alive. 

He doesn’t tell her much. They don’t have a lot of time as it stands, and really she’s just thrilled to have finally met him. He’s full of promises, of course. Lot’s of ‘soons’ and ‘be ready’. Delphini doesn’t get any of the details but she’s known since the beginning of term that it was finally coming. She’s more than ready, more than enough. Isn’t she?  

"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and He will come for me!"

The scripture scrawled into her very soul. There have been signs everywhere pointing towards His return. Now she knows it to be true. 

“You have her face,” Moody - Barty - interrupts her thoughts, he’s staring at Delphini in near worship, a look so foreign for the professor. “You have His eyes, though.” 

“I know.” 

She meets Him for the first time later that summer and He tells her something similar. It means all the more coming from Him.

Before her father, for the first time, she spins her spells into symphonies, her hexes into homilies, casts her curses to the constellations. Shows Him everything she knows, and all her power with it.

She walks back over to Him when she is well and through, magic still radiating off of her in harsh waves. Her father takes her wand from her hands. 

“I have much to learn.” Delphini offers, and she knows it to be true.

Her father is looking at her wand still. 

Dragon-heartstring, like her mother. Yew, like His own. 

He is smiling when he answers, something proud dancing in those red eyes. “Yes. You do.”

Year 5: 

With the commencing of the Spring Equinox she is finally allowed home. Ostara save her.

Delphini has to brace herself before walking through those large double doors, entirely unsure exactly who she might find on the other side. 

Still, her heart is burning. 

At last. 

Her mother’s embrace is a blessing. A gift Delphini hadn’t known she needed. That sharp look of recognition in her eyes hurts in all its relief. 

She really does wear her face, afterall. They’d all promised her as much, didn’t they?

Father is there, He is watching. Studying them both, studying their interaction.  

Her mother takes her face between her palms like a prayer, eyes shining. She’s full of promises and penitence. Delphini isn't having any of it. Her mother owes her nothing and this, just being here, it's more than enough.

Delphini has never felt so whole in all her life.

She begs to be a part of their plans at the ministry. Anything she can do to further the cause, support her family, put them back into their rightful place - above everyone else.

It's futile. She's far too young, and the logistics of getting her there are far too problematic. There's talk of Azkaban and Bellatrix looks terrified at the prospect of Delphini somehow winding up there.

"Absolutely not. The choice is not yours to make and your Father and I are in perfect agreement that you remain at the school." She turns to her, reaching a hand up to caress Delphi's cheek tenderly.

"We'll celebrate once we return with the prophecy, hm?"

It's the one promise Delphini will accept wholeheartedly.

Year 6: 

Somehow, it’s Draco and Delphini that bear the brunt of the shame brought on from the fiasco at the Ministry. 

Draco is marked, as punishment to Lucius (to Narcissa).

Delphini is not, as punishment to Bellatrix (to herself). 

Her cousin is crumbling under the pressure, Delphini is soaring. It's the same weight she’d felt her whole life, only this time she finally has an opportunity to act on it.   

It takes longer than she would like to mend the vanishing cabinet. Draco was seeing to it personally in the beginning, but with little to no headway Delphini made it her personal mission.

Not that it really mattered anyway. Delphini has other plans entirely. 

Whilst Draco wastes his time casting cursed necklaces and poisoning wine, Delphini is speaking with the stars. 

She will be enough.

When the day of reckoning is finally upon them she can hardly hold back. 

“Expelliarmus.” It’s swift and was fully intended to take him off guard but she’d still expected him to put up some sort of a fight. Immediately, something seems off, its only a matter of sorting out whether or not its something she can take advantage of. 

“Evening, Delphini, Draco. Are you alone?” 

“Who else is here?” She doesn’t bother to entertain his question, though Draco is quick to boast about the Death Eaters holding off the guards down below. Dumbledore assures them he is alone, but the two brooms resting along the ramparts suggest otherwise. 

No matter, Delphini will handle them both. Draco is waxing on, talking about the vanishing cabinet and Rosmerta. Much as she hates to listen to him give them all away she’s taking a moment to study the Headmaster. Something seems off, as he is entirely unbothered to be at the wrong side of their wands.  

“And why have you waited?” The headmaster interrupts after a beat, causing even her cousin to pause. “Those feeble attempts to kill me all year, surely they weren’t you.” He is speaking directly to Delphini now, she knows it.

She smiles. 

Quickly, the other Death Eaters are fast up the stairs making their presence known. 

“It doesn't have to be this way.” The Headmaster continues, eyes only on her despite the others' verbal jabs. “Long ago, I met a boy who made all the wrong choices-"

“My Father, you mean?” She breaks her silence, the other Death Eaters laugh behind her at the revelation. Though Dumbledore is not at all surprised, and why would he be? “There’s no reason to hide behind truth’s any longer, Headmaster. His time has come, and consequently yours is over.” 

And suddenly Severus is there stepping forward to share a look with Dumbledore. A part of her considers testing the potion professors loyalty.. 

..Only, this is her moment.

“Avada Kedavra!” It’s sweet on her tongue, and even sweeter watching him fall. They’re on the move sooner than she’d like for them to be, hardly a chance to savor it.  

On their flight into the forbidden forest she throws a ‘morsmordre’ into the sky like a personal signature. The monogram of her family. 

When she finally greets them, He tells her she’s worthy and stitches as much into the inside of her left forearm.

She is enough.

Year 7: 

It’s beyond refreshing, being who she was always meant to be. 

Watching as Slytherins and now students alike all bow at her feet, that renewed fear keening in their eyes. 

She savors it, relishes in their reactions.

Miss Black, they call her.

It’s nearly perfect. Helping alongside mother and father to secure the ministry this summer, returning to Hogwarts with an honest surname, unforgivables cast at her fingertips without repercussion. 

Of course, there is still the looming prospect of Potter. 

He’s been hiding from them all for far too long, lurking in the shadows despite the growing number of mudbloods father kills. Finally, they manage to locate him at Hogwarts, where boy wonder somehow convince the entire school to fight for him. How cute.

Until eventually, they find a way to lure him out. 

Father calls her to the boathouse through the mark she finally bears. Her mother falls into step with her the moment she departs, Delphini is not sure if she was called but what does it matter? They’re family.

Nagini greets her with enthusiasm, dancing between her legs like a cat. She acknowledges her, of course, but only after she acknowledges Him.

He eyes her mother disapprovingly and Delphini is not at all sure what to make of that. 

“We’ll have him soon, Father. I'm certain of it. He’s far too righteous to let this continue, even if it is good fun. He will come to you. ”

He hums in agreement, long fingers tracing his newfound wand. 

“That he will, Delphini.”

She waits then, she and mother both, giving him the floor to impart his orders.

“You understand, Delphini, that you have proved yourself very valuable to me since my return.” She smiles gently, sharing a warm look with her mother before turning back to Him. “You’ve been right about a number of things, and dedicated beyond my expectations.” He pauses again before resuming his gentle pacing. “One can only hope that that devotion continues with my next request.” 

He falls into step next to her mother, reaching forward to trace along Bellatrix jaw gently. 

“I have concerns, Bella, with how this new wand may cooperate with me when it comes time to put an end to Harry Potter.” Her mother looks confused, leaning forward into his touch.  

“My Lord?” He lingers a moment, appreciating her features before resuming his pacing. 

With it He continues, telling them of wandlore he was able to gather from Ollivander, from Gregorovitch. Delphini’s stomach sinks with every word. 

“You understand, Delphini.” He pauses, stopping directly opposite her on the other side of the small boathouse with an imploring look. “That while you live, the elder wand will never truly be mine?” 

And finally she is crumbling under the weight of it all.

Tears swim in her eyes as she looks at Him without answer, finally broken. She did everything right - exactly as He had asked her to! She did it all for Him - for them! To be everything and more.. To be enough..

Though, it seems she may never be enough. 

“F-father..” Her voice is broken, stubborn tears escaping from her eyes, eyes the same shade as His own. He doesn’t speak, nor does he resume his pacing. 

And then there’s Bellatrix, balancing on the edge of in-between them.

Delphini is too afraid to even look at her, desperation more than evident in her mother's voice: “My Lord. Certainly, there is another way. We can take Potter as prisoner and work the rest out later! How can we trust the word of a two-timing wandmaker? No - there are more, other wandmakers throughout Europe! I will bring them to you and we can find other ways - just like we always do..My Lord.."

His eyes don’t leave Delphini's own.  

“Please.”

[missdelphinilestrange]

If Bellatrix Had Lived, But Voldemort Still Lost (AU) (Part 3)

Here, Delphi goes from the train, to Hogwarts. Then, it’s the next day, and the Triwizard Tournament is discussed. Lots of drama and secrets unfold.

I woke up to a bright light shining on my face. As I sat up, I rubbed my eyes to get rid of any leftover tears. As my eyes adjusted to the bright light, I was able to make out a very huge figure; Hagrid.

“Ya fell asleep, and ya didn’ notice all the kids gettin’ of o’ the train. I wanted ter wake ya up so you didn’ miss yer carriage.”

“Thank you, Hagrid.”

“Well o’ course! I can’t let the ‘ogwarts champion be left on the train, now can I?”

Oh, god. He already knows. I bet all the teachers know, then.

“No, I guess not. Well thank you Hagrid.”

“Well o’ course! Now don’ be late!”

(Flash foreword to the next night, in the Great Hall.)

I had, (once again,) fallen asleep right before I needed to be in the Great Hall. I pushed the huge wooden doors open, and released a breath that I didn’t know I was holding, when I noticed that no one stared at me. I sat down just in time too, because moments after I took my seat, McGonagall stood up and announced the rules of the Triwizard Tournament. Then, she announced that all three schools had decided to hand pick the school champion. People broke out in gasps and angry whispers. They were then all silenced by Headmistress herself. Then, she said the name of the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion.

Delphini Black.

The room went from dead silence, to worried whispers. Whispers like “Who’s that?” and “She sounds evil. Not many from that family are good people.” It stung. It stung hard. It took all I could to not break down right there. Each schools called up their champion. Illvermorny called up Joshua Holland, a scraggly medium-height seventeen year old boy with shaggy dirty blonde hair. All three schools clapped their hands as he walked to the stage. He looked like he was nice, but competitive, so he might be difficult to win against. Beauxbattons called up Grace Evergreen, a short seventeen year old girl with long straight brown hair. All three schools clapped their hands as she walked to the stage. She looked kinda mean, but easy to take down. And then me. Delphini Black. A tall, gothic looking girl with long luscious black curls. Nobody clapped. They just gasped, and whispered among themselves. I stood up and walked up to the stage, making sure to keep my head down.

When I was on the stage, I watched as some Gryffindor kid, (probably a seventh year,) raised his hand with a confused expression. McGonagall pointed at him, indicating his allowance to speak.

“Umm, just a question, for uh... Delphi... why do you look a lot like Bellatrix Lestrange? Are you related to her or something?”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I could tell, without needing a mirror, that my cheeks were bright red.

“I... I don’t really know how to answer that,” I said meekly.

“Yeah, she’s Bellatrix’s daughter,” is what I heard loud and clear from the Hufflepuff table. Teddy. My first cousin once removed. Ugh.

“Yeah, thanks for your helpfulness, Teddy,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. He was the only one that knew, and that’s just because Andromeda Tonks told him.

“No problem, cousin.”

I crossed my arms. I looked down, trying to ignore the burning in my eyes. I was not gonna cry. Not here. Not now. Especially not on a stage in front of three schools.

I heard a yell from the Gryffindor table. Three boys, saying, “Death Eater spawn!” and “You’re just as evil as her!”

I saw Victorie Weasley in the front of the Gryffindor table glare at me, and loudly say, “I bet you’ll be just like her. An evil Death Eater. And I bet Molly will kill you off too, just like your precious mother. Your existence is pathetic!”

That was the last straw. I bolted off the stage before McGonagall or the other teachers could stop me. I ran to the door, opened it, whipped around and screamed, “This is why I’m so quiet all the time! Because I knew that if I told anyone my parentage, everyone would turn on me and I’d get bullied! I didn’t chose who my mother is! But I love and respect her anyway! I didn’t chose for me to be picked as Champion of Hogwarts! But I’m trying anyway! Hell, I’ve been having panic attacks and mental breakdowns because of the thought of it for two damn weeks! And I didn’t chose to be attacked by all of you like this, just because Bellatrix is my mother! I just want to go home! If you don’t want me here, I won’t be! I’ll leave if I have to, and you can all chose a Champion that you want! And you know what, Victorie, my mother is alive! She fine and well, thank you! And I will be too, after I stop be reprimanded for merely existing! I’m sorry that I’m ruining your perfect lives, by existing! And keep in mind, it’s fucking hard to not have a perfect family! It’s fucking hard for my father to be in Azkaban, and for my long-deceased step father to be Voldemort! But it’s okay, because no one gives a shit about me anyway! Not until I’m the Hogwarts Champion, and then, suddenly, everyone deserves to know everything about me and point out all of my flaws! Well I’ll tell you what, I may not be perfect, but at least my mother taught me how to show people some damn respect!” I then stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

[heartscfvalor]

Verse Available: The Scorpian King

Where the Dark Lord Reigns, the Augury cries, and the Death Eaters have control, and the Wizarding world is never the same.

When Harry Potter died that fateful night -- for good this time -- Draco Malfoy lost all hope for a peaceful world, and his mind shattered, becoming a shell of the young man he had once been. The abuse he suffered at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters had broken him down, resulting in him obeying every order, and scarcely speaking. He eventually married Astoria Greengrass, not out of love, but obligation, as she was one of the few in the Sacred Twenty Eight he wasn’t closely related to, and at Voldemort’s declaration, conceived the next male heir to the Malfoy bloodline.

Scorpius Malfoy’s world is not kind or warm or wonderful. It’s cold, and dark, and cruel. He rarely ever sees his father, due to Draco being away as often as he can, and his only support system Astoria, who is almost always in frail health. While she adores her child very much, she cannot do much to protect him from the bullying ways of his peers, who mock his somewhat spacey mind and inability to read social cues, and his rather blunt mannerisms. Without the true support of his father, and without his mother being able to intervene, Scorpius’ soft nature is warped into something angry and ugly.

The first time he snaps, he’s eight years old, and he nearly tears one of his peers’ eyes’ out for making fun of him for reading a bloody book that was well beyond their own reading comprehension.

His cousin, Delphini, sees potential in the boy, and she ends up taking him to Voldemort against Astoria’s wishes, where he’s molded into the perfect child soldier. By the time he arrives to Hogwarts at eleven years old, he bears two marks of favoritism; the Dark Mark on his left forearm, and the augury in flight on his right. He’s Sorted into Slytherin, where he quickly gains control over his classmates, ruling over them with an iron fist, striking fear into the hearts of everyone around them the more time goes on. He plays lackey for Umbridge, delights in using Dark magic against his enemies, and by the time he’s thirteen, he’s even come up with curses and torture methods far beyond his age.

The Scorpian King, they call him. You don’t see him until it’s too late, and his poisoned strike against you is as swift and painful as a Manticore. But underneath all that rage and brutality is a child who desperately wishes to have his father look at him with eyes filled with pride and love, not an empty husk that looks to him from time to time without even seeing him.

[ao3feed-scorbus]

Deep Below the Waves

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/tXbQoUV by willdarknessdivide It's 1995, before the Second Wizarding War, Harry receives a visit from Delphini Riddle. Wanting to prevent the deaths her father caused by changing time, Harry and his friends abide, bringing Hogwarts into a state of distress as they learn how to fight, hide, and remain in the shadows. Words: 2698, Chapters: 2/8, Language: English Series: Part 10 of Delphi’s Version Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Delphi (Harry Potter), Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Euphemia Rowle, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Delphi & Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter, Delphi & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Delphi & Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Time Turners (Harry Potter), Morally Grey Delphi (Harry Potter), Canon Rewrite, The Golden Trio, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, but barely, Delphi Needs a Hug (Harry Potter), Heavy Angst, Delphi Goes to Hogwarts, and befriends the golden trio, and Draco Malfoy - Freeform read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52917037

[tarmairons]

re: that last hp ask i got

i know i said i wouldn’t be cross-posting my bellamort/dark au/riddle fam headcanons from twitter but i’ve decided to post a lengthy updated masterpost here after all so ENJOY bon apetit 

1. see the thing is that 90% of my hcs can’t be described with words bc they’re just.. feelings.. aesthetics.. vibes.. vague scenarios that make me feel some sort of way… the dark au has a certain Feel and i just stick a bunch of domestic concepts in there and shake it all up and that’s it shshsh

2. disclaimer: im like 75% sure my self indulgent ramblings won’t make sense so sorry about that

3. i was fully serious that one time i said on twitter that voldemort’s no.1 priority after taking over the wizarding world was doing sth about his snace (snake face) so yeah. first things first he’s not as fugly in the dark au. as mentioned previously he just looks like mr. ralph and probably wears ornate haute couture power suits

4. the public doesn’t actually know who the augurey is for YEARS… they know whoever it is is voldemort’s second in command and sure there’s rumors that he has an heir but nobody knows it’s delphi. this way she doesn’t have to be reclusive and hide away, she just lives her life, studies and trains, masters the art of dark magic, hangs around town etc, and no one suspects anything bc who would think this tiny super friendly innocent looking girl is the dark lord’s kid — her identity isn’t revealed until she’s deemed Ready to publicly take up her position. and when she is revealed it’s a Big Moment bc she’s a drama queen and lives for attention

5. delphi is taller than bellatrix

6. speaking of bellatrix. she’s presumed dead after the battle of hogwarts which turns out to be a cool bonus for the dark side. any leftover resistance? she’ll take care of that and they’ll never see her coming. tbh this seems a lot cooler in my head bc movie bellatrix would not be stealthy enough to stay hidden for years she would probs trip over something and accidentally commit arson within a few days. but yeah sneaky assassin sounds sexy. plus to be super honest i imagine bella is a teensy bit more collected than in the films... no shade at helena y’all know i would die for her but there are in fact things i would change about her bella. so yeah for a while the only people who know she’s alive aside from her immediate family are probs rod and the malfoys

7. hm so. the malfoys…. much to think about. narcissa did lie to voldemort’s face during the battle so logically he should have killed her the moment he realized she knew harry was alive all along. but this is a soft dark au so let’s pretend bellatrix was like hey dude don’t kill my sister maybe and voldemort was like k. i mean no harm done, harry potter is properly dead in this universe after all

8. but seriously tho. the only reason voldemort didn’t yeet narcissa into a wall was for bella’s sake. he’s nice like that, he probably promised her at one point that he wouldn’t violently murder her family. peak romance

9. delphi is surprisingly close with both her parents although with voldemort it’s more of a mentor-student relationship than a parent-child one bc he’s Like That. growing up it was always bella who insisted they treat delphi more like a child and less like a weapon and voldemort wasn’t always happy about that bc he’s emotionally constipated and also never had a childhood. also he’s, like, evil. so yes, reminding voldemort that delphi was her daughter too sometimes got bella in trouble bc we all know of voldemort’s superiority issues. but no bella didn’t stop insisting that delphi deserved an actual childhood and in the end they compromised like functional adults and delphi turned out pretty well for someone raised by 2 of the most terrifying people alive

10. but yeah that’s not to say voldemort and kid delphi never had soft moments. they did. he even picked her up every once in a while. everyone was surprised, bella most of all. she probably cried in the bathroom later bc the softness overwhelmed her. i’m not sure if i mean that in a sarcastic shitpost kind of way or if she was really moved to tears. y’all decide for yourselves

11. delphi looks very very much like bella but she has tom riddley eyes.. so dark they’re nearly black. and soulless. maybe they even flash red when she’s enraged. and she has very aristocratic very controlled tom riddley mannerisms. it’s not until you piss her off and she goes off the rails that the bella side of her personality kicks in

12. delphi gets along really well with the malfoys (except lucius. she thinks he’s pathetic and likes to tease him. in a friendly way but it’s still harsh. she gets that from her mom) esp scorp. scorp thinks this makes him cool at school bc he gets to fist bump the augurey and not get murdered for it

13. speaking of hogwarts. umbridge is scared shitless of delphi and it’s always a school-wide spectacle when the augurey drops by unexpectedly on official business and umbridge starts stuttering and quivering. scorp sometimes makes a point to approach umbridge and delphi when they’re talking and act all chummy-chummy with his cousin just to make himself look powerful and Cool in front of umbridge and the other students

14. i still don’t know whether voldemort would call delphi ‘delphini’ or just ‘delphi’… i imagine he’s a strict stick-up-his-ass kinda father but who knows. he does call bellatrix ‘bella’ but that’s different i guess

15. but THEN AGAIN he does have a gigantic soft spot for delphi too. maybe he slips up every so often and calls her delphi. i’m literally making this shit up as i go along i’m just smashing my mf keyboard and occasionally glancing at my messy hcs notebook. I TOLD YALL i don’t have solid hcs i just have VIBES and AESTHETICS. the only way you’ll get specific hcs out of me is if you ask very specific questions

16. weirdest brotp is delphi and rodolphus. nobody knows where that came from but they get along so well and it confuses everybody

17. we been knew that bella is batshit crazy and criminally insane or whatever but against all odds she is a surprisingly good mother. she’s always been soft for family (narcissa etc) so it makes sense that she would legit die for delphi. they have this super casual bantery relationship YALL GET ME bella is so proud of delphi she’s literally that “my little baby off to destroy people” meme!!! honestly mother-daughter relationships are my goddamn weakness i would die for the two of them

18. delphi has a gf (underdeveloped oc time!) who, for the longest time, doesn’t know who she is dating bc delphi is obviously not allowed to say. she finds out the truth eventually and she is properly freaked out for a very very long time. and since all of these hcs are stupidly soft we’re just gonna keep making them softer: the gf is terrified of delphi’s parents at first (obvs) but they’re both extremely fond of her (well, bella is, voldemort probs doesn’t care all that much about who delphi is dating so long as she’s not of subpar blood status or secretly spying for the opposition ya know. as long as delphi trusts her he does too)

19. no but really voldemort trusts delphi and bella implicitly. with delphi it’s bc he raised her and he trusts her to be loyal bc she knows no other way, she was meant to be an extension of his power etc. but with bella it’s something he learns over time, to trust her judgement bc despite her many many flaws she’s very perceptive and usually right

20. voldemort probably makes more horcruxes. still haven’t decided how this ties in with the fact that he’s now safely immortal again and neither delphi nor bella are. who knows maybe they all do the do and split their souls. much to think about. feel free to send ur thots and ideas my way

21. ya know im basic and always on my bellamort bs and therefore: as the years go by voldemort warms up to bella. not that he wasn’t already extremely fond of her before but he kicks it up a notch. i mean, he’s already taken over the world so it’s high time to start experimenting with other wilder things like Feelings. 80/90 years old isn’t too late to experience Love or whatever. might as well wake up one day and realize you’re completely and utterly in love with the woman you’ve spent the last 50+ years with whew. LIKE to be fair bella knows him better than anyone — they understand each other, they’re familiar with each other’s likes, dislikes, mannerisms, nervous tics etc etc. let’s be real it freaked voldemort out at first, being vulnerable to any degree (not that he let it show) but it just became so easy to tell her things that it became a natural thing to do. and obvs he trusts her to keep everything between them and never judge him for anything so that’s sweet

22. y’all keep asking me for domestic hcs but what can i possibly say?? imagine literally any domestic scenario ever and just think bellamort and i’ve probably imagined that same scenario before. except its sexier bc the world is dark and evil and they live in a dark gloomy super fancy manor. so we have these 2 goths right but they’re in love but in that casual familiar way YALL GET ME and sometimes they even drink coffee together in the mornings or like. do that thing where Person A returns from work late at night and its dark and raining and Person B is already home just chilling and they don’t even have to talk they just go about their nighttime routine but it’s soft and familiar and COMFORTABLE. i clearly dont have enough softness in my life i just. love domestic scenarios bye

23. i forgot everything else i wanted to write bc i got distracted by domesticity. im also thinking about how voldemort absolutely despises the thought of any pda but he’ll take bella by the wrist in public every so often when he wants to get her attention, or like. put his hand on her back. small things but oh so soft

24. hhhh okay i have a LOT to say about the power fam’s fashion choices but it’s hard to explain without pictures. i have a wholeass ppt presentation but i’m not about to upload 20+ slides to tumblr. but i seriously was not kidding when i said voldemort wears fancy suits and yes i have references. meanwhile delphi is a fan of feathers but mostly goes with lowkey military-style outfits.. she’s practical yet ostentatious. bella sticks to a conservative yet undeniably sexy selection of evil looking dresses.. i should make all of these into pinterest boards hmm

25. controversial opinion but i think delphi knows she and voldemort are half bloods. so does bella but that’s a whole other story, she been knew. anyhow yeah delphi was told the truth bc it was better for her to find out from the source rather than hear rumors from the opposition and begin to distrust the foundations of voldemort’s whole empire and voldemort himself

26. i used to absolutely hate fics where bella would eventually call voldemort by his name but now im like FUCK THAT we don’t do guilty pleasures anymore we just stan ridiculous things and that’s that. one day voldemort had a Thought (shocking, i know) and was like. Hm so we have a wholeass child and we’re basically married maybe bella shouldn’t have to call me My Lord for the rest of her life. BUT ONLY IN PRIVATE. THATS BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM it’s nobody’s business. It Is Nobody’s Business

27. speaking of marriage. bella and rod got divorced a few years after the battle. it was just a formality tho let’s be real. they remained very close friends tho!!!!!!!! i think that’s an unpopular opinion among bellamort stans but i genuinely believe bella and rod were always close the way best friends or family are ya know. rod really loves bella but as long as she’s happy he’s happy even if it means her fucking the dark lord on the reg or whatever

28. going back to #6 — when the public finally finds out that bella’s alive they obviously start to wonder about her and voldemort and connect the dots re: delphi etc but nobody ever gets any concrete answers bc there’s never any public pda.. any sort of affection is limited to when it’s just the two of them. and obviously it’s not like voldemort gossips about his private life in tabloid interviews or whatnot. ALSO the whole Bella Is Alive reveal isn’t nearly as dramatic as delphi’s big moment.. it’s more discreet and insidious in that way it implies that she was there hiding in plain sight all along. and if the ministry can keep sth this big a secret, what else are they hiding.. ah classic intimidation tactics of an authoritarian regime

29. i dont think this is ever stated in the CC but in terms of politics and bureaucracy i imagine voldemort has a fancy office in the ministry and spends 99% of his time there and rarely spends any time out and about. he’s almost never seen by anyone, rarely attends events etc. delphi’s the one who handles the day to day shit in the wizarding world. she’s like.. the public relations manager.. between the public and voldemort

30. bella is of similar status within the ministry but that’s just bc people are scared shitless of her. she doesn’t actually hold any political power and she most certainly does not want to, that is not her area of expertise at all

31. delphi is dangerously powerful and i think that’s really sexy of her

32. re: #21 it’s like. as voldemort warms up to bella, she in turn chillaxes a bit with the whole blind devotion thing and becomes bolder with him like. she’ll outright question his decisions or tell him what he should do, make judgement calls etc. and it becomes a regular thing.. turns into this casual companionship ya feel.. i won’t say they become equals bc that’s just unrealistic but he certainly stops treating her like his inferior. he recognizes her value and i daresay her authority and stops treating her like shit all the time Wow Romance Is Alive!! (this sounds like some sort of “douche fuckboi changes for his poor mistreated love interest” schtick but it’s really not that bc they’re both monstrous people who do not deserve any pity so jot that down. they’re horrible and they deserve each other and they eventually do make it work and i am so so happy for them)

33. it is never outright stated that voldemort can’t love. jkr has said that he doesn’t understand love and that it’s just symbolism!!! that he’s the child of a loveless union and grew up without knowing love!!! BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE PHYSICALLY CANNOT LOVE thanks for coming 2 my ted talk. i wasn’t aware of this until a few months ago and i was thrilled to find out my soft hcs are not entirely ooc after all

34. THE POINT IS. THEY ARE A SEMI-FUNCTIONAL FAMILY and i just really love soft domestic scenarios so sorry jkr but the dark au is the only canon now and it belongs to me. everybody has feelings and everything is soft. i’d like to pitch an idea for a kuwtk style reality show but it’s these 3 sociopaths under one roof navigating family life and wizarding world politics

35. to finish i’d like to apologize for downplaying the fact that all 3 of the people i woobified in this post are psychotic murderers and tyrants etc

—— i’ll be updating this if/when i remember anything i forgot AND ALSO send me ur thoughts and comments and constructive criticism etc pls pls pls 

—— follow me on twitter and also curiouscat bc i get a scary amount of q’s about voldemort’s sex life thank you and goodbye

edits:

36. in this household we stan dark haired delphi. no i will not be taking any criticism regarding this particular fact

37. bella and voldemort never get married. obviously, because that’s a disgustingly romantic and pointless thing to do. it’s sentimental and unnecessary (well, voldemort thinks so, bella might just disagree but she’s not about to force his hand) BUT that’s not to say they’re not basically an old married couple anyway. AND as much as voldemort thinks love is weakness or whatever he knows this, that they’re about as close as two people can get. SO if he just so happens to gift her a ring.. well it’s a purely symbolic gesture but the implication is definitely there

38. it’s the horcrux ring. he trusts her that much. m y  h e a r t

[asktheheirofslytherin]

(Dated four months since the last letter)

We have moved into Bagshot Park and the kids are settling in nicely. My uncles children have moved in with us, so we’re officially a family of ten. The land has been quite useful, we’ve established a vegetable garden, a butterfly garden, and designated play space. But, most importantly, we also have an outdoor teaching area for the ancient magic that’s been passed down through our family.

James, my uncles oldest who is 14, has a natural affinity for pyrotechnics and still has bouts of incidental magic when emotional. It’s been helpful to be able to send him outside to let the fire out during his grieving process. He attends Durmstrong, he was not expelled, but Hogwarts suggested he seek schooling elsewhere and it really has been for the best for him. Jeremiah, his brother, will be attending Hogwarts in the coming school year and their sister Jenny, who is seven now, will eventually be attending Beauxbatons per her mother’s wishes.

I’ve also been slowly making acquaintances. I met a lovely woman named Narcissa Malfoy while I was furniture shopping with the children, involving them in designing their rooms has helped them settle in better. Narcissa has been assisting me in planning a garden party for Leo’s second birthday in two months. I have included an invitation in this envelope and would be honored if you attended, however I recognize you are a very busy man.

I am interested in taking the mark for multiple reasons, though one is the security, I also have always had work outside of the home. I’m a bit of a busy body and always need something to occupy myself, and what task is more important than working in the government to ensure a good future for the children to live in? My family has always had even our youngest children in at least part time schooling outside of the home to help them with their social development. Also, my dear cousin Aofie has decided after a recent visit to join our household and assist with the care of the children, so there will be more time available outside of the home.

Thank you again my lord, I hope to make your acquaintance soon,

Iona McKinley

(Photo included and the back is labeled from left to right Maisie, Nathaniel, James, Iona, Leo, Aofie, Jeremiah, Luca, Luna, Maeve, Jenny, and Cerby)

Ah, I am pleased to hear that your family has been settling in nicely. It is also good to hear you have assistance with the children - though a good number of them will be back off at school before too long. I cannot imagine having that number of children under my roof - Delphini was a handful enough, and always bringing around those two friends of hers - Nyx, the Potion Master’s daughter, and Natalie, of the Rosier Family (a very good family, you should indeed meet them). The three of them were more than enough. 

Ah, the Malfoys. If you have struck the attention of Narcissa, you need not worry about making friends. The Malfoys are the socialites of the area, annoying as they are. Narcissa’s husband, Lucius, is a worse gossip than she is so do not allow him to get wind of anything you do not wish the whole Death Eater Council to know. But they are a prominent family - Lucius’s father was one of the first Death Eaters, and Luicus and his son, Draco both have the Mark as well. I expect Draco’s son Scorpius will get along well with your own children - he is due to start Hogwarts in the fall, a very long line of Slytherins, the Malfoys...

But yes, I suppose I should attend the garden party, or else Narcissa will make a fuss. And if she makes a fuss, she inevitably goes to her sister Bella, who is Delphini’s mother and therefore much harder to ignore. So yes, expect Myself, Bellatrix, and Delphini to attend this party of yours. I do not plan on staying long - I do hate parties. 

I look forward to you joining our ranks - and may I be so bold to ask if you have a husband, and if so, his whereabouts?

Regards, 

Lord Voldemort

[torestoreamends]

Mine to Make: Chapter 8

During a visit to Diagon Alley, Albus is reunited with his brother, apologises to Scorpius, and then tries to out himself to the world. He and Scorpius then go and do some investigation at a slightly creepy abandoned house.

Beta’d by @abradystrix.

N.B. This fic is complete on AO3, so binge read away if you want! Here on tumblr I’ll be posting a chapter every day until it’s all done.

Read it on AO3

*

VIII Fire

Scorpius sits at the kitchen table, hunched over the day’s newspaper, trying to keep himself calm. His hands are shaking, and the corner of the paper is crumpled in his grip. His chest has gone all tight and he’s finding it difficult to breathe.

How many times has his dad told him to stop reading the paper? But he hasn’t yet. He can’t. He needs it for work. And even if he didn’t need it, he still wants to know what everyone is saying about him. If he’s going to be subject to the court of public opinion he needs to know what the evidence against him is. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

He takes a deep breath and turns over from the front page – which features a large copy of his Hogwarts seventh year school photo – and starts reading the story inside.

Following months of speculation, Daily Prophet reporters have uncovered evidence of a Ministry investigation into Scorpius Malfoy, in connection with the disappearance of Albus Severus Potter.

Malfoy, a recent Hogwarts graduate who last month secured a job at the Ministry, has long been a prime suspect in the case, but only now does it seem that the Ministry has begun to take the matter seriously.

New documentation, leaked yesterday from inside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, shows that Malfoy has been questioned about his knowledge of Potter’s latest movements since commencing his new job. It also shows that the Ministry is now searching areas around Hogwarts, as well as parts of the Wiltshire countryside close to where Malfoy still lives with his father, Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy Sr, a former Death Eater, and his wife Astoria, now deceased, have been the subject of intense speculation since the birth of their son in 2005, with many believing that Scorpius is actually the child of Lord Voldemort. Although Malfoy Sr has denied these rumours, the recent disappearance and subsequent investigation have done nothing to dispel them.

When asked about the investigation, Malfoy Sr made no comment.

At the Ministry of Magic, Harry Potter, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and father to Albus Potter, also made no comment, although a spokesperson gave a statement on his behalf.

“We strongly deny speculation that our new recruit, Scorpius Malfoy, is under investigation for any criminal activity, including in respect to the disappearance of Albus Potter. We are pleased to have Mr Malfoy working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and would like to remind all recent Hogwarts graduates that the Ministry is an excellent place to develop a career.”

Despite this statement, the general public still believe that Malfoy is somehow connected to Potter’s disappearance.

“I think he should be suspended immediately,” said Doris Blexley, 52, of Abbotsbury Hill. “The Ministry shouldn’t be hiring dangerous wizards, especially not ones with such close ties to the Dark Lord. He should be locked up until he tells us where he’s hidden the body.”

‘The story continues on page 35.

He closes his eyes and buries his face in his hands, but not before a tear drips off his chin and splatters on the middle of the news print, blurring the words.

He should be over this by now. It shouldn’t hurt him anymore. He’s heard all this over and over again for more than a year now. It’s just what people say, what people believe. Nothing new. Nothing that’s even true. It shouldn’t feel like this.

But still, the fact that people believe it’s his fault Albus is gone, the fact that people believe the rumours, it aches. People out there, so many people, think the worst of him. It’s almost enough to make him think the worst of himself.

He rests his forehead on the table, not caring if the newsprint stains his skin. He wants to shut the world out and pretend none of this is happening. He wants to pretend that no one knows his name, no one despises his existence. He wants to pretend that he’s just another kid who graduated from Hogwarts earlier in the summer, with his whole hopeful future ahead of him.

If only that were true.

 Scorpius always tries to avoid Diagon Alley, especially on a Saturday, but sometimes it’s impossible. This morning he has no choice but to go through it en route to Gringotts, and it’s utter hell.

It’s a point of pride that he never walks through here in disguise or invisible. If he’s going to be here, he’s going to be seen, no matter what trouble it attracts. But today, even if he wanted to hide himself, he couldn’t. He’s wearing his work robes, and he needs to look like himself so he can deal with the goblins. It’s difficult enough getting them to help with investigations even when he has a valid ID. A disguise could get him banned from the bank forever.

He keeps his head down as he goes through the Leaky Cauldron, and no one bothers him, which is a good start. But it doesn’t last long though. The second he steps out into the sunshine of the main street, people start looking at him, and once they’ve started looking at him they begin to recognise him, and that’s where the trouble really begins.

A woman barges past him, clouting him hard with her bag. It could just be that it’s busy, but Scorpius sees the look of pure disgust that she shoots in his direction. A man with two kids pulls them away from Scorpius, like he’s worried they might catch a disease if they get too close. Yet more people scramble out of his path, and the street seems to clear in front of him, but that just makes him more conspicuous.

Whispers follow him as he walks. A couple of kids run giggling in front of him, throwing glances at him over their shoulder. It must be a game to them, seeing how close they dare get to Albus’s murderer, kidnapper, whatever people think he is.

He bows his head to try and hide a bit more, because he’s tall enough that everyone in the whole street can probably see him right now, especially with the crowd parted around him like it is. It doesn’t help though. Just as he bows his head he feels something splatter through his hair and drip down onto his neck. He exhales slowly, trying not to physically react, even though he wants to shudder, find out what it is, and wipe it away. If he does any of that it’ll just give them the satisfaction.

A couple of people behind him giggle, and he closes his fingers round the handle of his wand. It’s comforting to know that if he wanted to defend himself he could. There are countless things he could do. He could disguise himself, Apparate out of here, turn himself invisible, cast a shield between him and the crowd, even fight them if he had to. He has options. He has the power here, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.

Gringotts is just up the street. He can see it now, over the heads of the crowd. The soaring white columns, and the heavy door that will offer him some respite. He’s nearly there, and once he’s there he’ll be safe. He’d rather contend with the goblins than all these people.

He keeps walking. The people up ahead haven’t realised who’s coming, so there’s no path through them. He joins the crowd and feels both less and more vulnerable all at once.

He hugs himself and hunches up, hoping to protect himself at least a little bit. People jostle around him. Someone treads on his toes. A couple more push past like he’s nothing. One person gives him a proper shove that sends him reeling sideways, almost knocking over a couple of barrels outside the apothecary. He apologises to the people standing there and rushes on, moving as fast as he can towards the bank.

More whispers, more stares, more shoves. Someone spits at his feet. Someone else tries to do the same thing and the spit splatters on his shoes.

It’s a relief to reach Gringotts’ door. He rushes through and leans against one of the inside columns, enjoying the cool, dark, quiet empty space. Only then does he allow himself to reach back and get rid of the substance in his hair. It’s thick and goopy, and it only takes a couple of seconds to realise that it’s frogspawn. Someone has thrown frogspawn at him. That’s a new one.

With a sigh he draws his wand and vanishes it, then he gives a sweeping flick to neaten his hair up, and finally gets rid of the spittle from the toe of his shoe. Once that’s done he feels almost human, almost respectable, and he takes a deep breath and draws himself up to his full height before fishing out his ID and approaching the counter.

The goblin perching on the stool behind the counter doesn’t look up straight away. She’s peering down at some paperwork, and doesn’t seem at all interested in serving Scorpius anytime soon. He clears his throat hopefully, and puts his ID down on the counter, but she gets right to the bottom of the page she’s filling out before finally removing her reading glasses and looking up at him.

“Can I help you?”

Her tone is dripping with irritation, and it couldn’t be clearer that Scorpius is causing her a huge inconvenience by being there. Nevertheless, Scorpius gives her a bright smile.

“Hi! I’m here on Ministry business.” He pushes the ID towards her so she can see it.

She gives him a hard look and doesn’t bother to look down at his badge. “And?”

“And,” he says, fumbling in his pocket for the scrap of parchment with Delphi’s name and account number on, “I’d like to trace an account, please. This one. It’s an account belonging to Delphini Black? I can tell you the number...”

The goblin doesn’t take her eyes off him as she clicks her fingers. Nothing appears in front of her, and only then does she look away from him, a small frown of confusion on her face. She clicks her fingers again but still nothing happens.

“Are you sure that’s the correct name?” She asks.

Scorpius nods. “I’m positive... Can you search by the account number instead? It’s...” he glances at the paper. “It’s 456. That’s the vault.”

There’s another snap and this time a file appears on the table in front of the goblin. She opens it up and reads the first line. “Vault 456 belonging to Cygnus Black...” She looks up at Scorpius. “The name and account number do not match. Why is this?”

Scorpius swallows. “I-I’m not sure. I got them from financial records. They should match. I don’t know why they wouldn’t... Is it possible for someone to use someone else’s account? If they’re a family member or something? Old accounts are passed down, aren’t they?”

“This one was closed in 1979,” the goblin says with a tone of finality, but then she pauses and frowns at the page. “But then reactivated in 2015, And has been in regular use since...”

“Is that strange?” Scorpius asks.

“Accounts cannot usually be reactivated,” the goblin says sharply. “Except in special circumstances. It is not strange, but it is unusual.”

Scorpius leans forward, trying to read the file. “So what might the special circumstances be?”

The goblin shrugs. “There are many. A long lost relative with a claim to use the vault, someone thought deceased who is found alive... The special circumstance is not listed here. That is between the account manager and account owner.”

“Can I talk to the account manager?” Scorpius asks.

The goblin almost looks amused. “No. You may not.”

“But-“

“She is away on business and will return in three weeks.”

“Can I not even send her an Owl?” Scorpius asks, casting around for any solution.

“No,” the goblin says flatly. “You may make an appointment for her return if you wish.”

Three weeks is a long time. It might be too long. And knowing the circumstances isn’t that important. He knows who’s using the account and what they’re using it for, and those are the most crucial bits of information. The special circumstances are just a matter of academic interest. He doesn’t need them.

“No,” he says. “That’s fine. I don’t really need to know. There is one thing though. Is the account registered to an address at all? Are you allowed to tell me that?”

The goblin glances down at Scorpius’s Ministry ID, then up at his face, before tutting and looking back at the file. “I suppose I am. The account is registered to Hangleton Hall, Little Hangleton.”

“Can I borrow your quill?” Scorpius asks, with what he hopes is an endearing smile.

The goblin gives him a very long, hard look before handing her quill over.

“Thanks,” Scorpius says brightly. He takes the quill and scribbles the address on his scrap of parchment. “That’s really helpful.”

“Is there anything else you need?” She asks, snapping the file shut.

Scorpius thinks for a second, then shakes his head. “No. An address is a good starting point. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, in a tone that implies Scorpius is dismissed. She clicks her fingers and the file disappears, leaving her free to go back to her paperwork.

Scorpius hesitates by the desk a moment longer, then turns and heads for the doors out of the bank, trying to remember why the name Little Hangleton sounds so familiar to him.

 Albus is asleep when the owl swoops in through the open window and lands on him. In his dreams he feels claws dig into his back, and he jerks awake with a yell, rolling over and patting his hands against his back to try and work out if there’s still anything touching him. The owl takes flight in a flurry of wings, and ends up perching on the edge of his bedside table, hooting reproachfully.

“It was you,” Albus gasps, staring at it. “Why would you sneak up on me like that? I was asleep.”

The owl gives a very unapologetic hoot and sticks its leg out. There’s a morning edition of the Daily Prophet tied to it. Albus has only taken the subscription out because of the Dementor attack, and because he has so much to catch up on. He has no idea what’s going on in the world, and the best way of finding out is the Prophet. There’s also the hope that he’ll find some of his mum’s writing inside. That would be nice.

He unties the paper from the owl’s leg, drops a sickle into the money pouch, and unscrolls the paper as the owl flies away. The front cover flashes up at him, a chaotic riot of adverts, stories, photos, and screaming headlines.

‘St Mungo’s approves new cure for Spattergroit’

‘Unspeakable scandal at the Department of Mysteries’

‘Outcry over proposed closure of Upper Flagley Potions Library’

‘Werewolf activity on the rise, Harry Potter confirms’

The last one catches Albus’s eye and he starts to skim through the article. It’s not as interesting as it sounds, just a short snippet about the werewolves being more active than normal, with a quote from his dad assuring the public that no one is in danger, that the situation is being monitored, and that the Wolfsbane Potion programme is still as effective as ever. He’s just about to skip away from the article and turn the page when a comment right at the bottom catches his eye.

Despite Potter’s insistence that the situation is under control, recent scrutiny of poor decision making within the DMLE casts this into doubt. The Department continues to defend the employment of Scorpius Malfoy, prime suspect in the disappearance of Albus Severus Potter over seven years ago, despite an ongoing investigation.

Albus stares at the words on the page.

Prime suspect. What does that mean?

‘Prime suspect in the disappearance of Albus Severus Potter.’

Does that mean that people think Scorpius is to blame for him leaving? Do they think Scorpius kidnapped him? Killed him? How long has this been going on for?

There’s an ongoing investigation... The Ministry is defending Scorpius’s employment... Is this why Scorpius is stuck in the job he is? People think he shouldn’t be employed at all?

Albus reads the paragraph again, and again, trying to comprehend, but he can’t. None of this goes along with the Scorpius that he knows. None of it makes sense. How it can make sense to anyone is beyond him. Scorpius isn’t suspicious. Scorpius can’t be under investigation. Scorpius especially can’t be under investigation for this, because it has nothing to do with him. This is all Albus.

But it’s just one article. Maybe it was a mistake or something. Maybe it was misphrased. Maybe... Maybe.

Albus turns the page and reads on, but the more he reads, the more he realises that there’s no mistake. There’s nothing explicit or obvious, but scattered throughout the stories are odd little comments, things that make Albus’s heart sink and his blood boil.

There’s another comment about Ministry incompetency in an article about vampires, that Albus can tell has more to it than meets the eye. In an article about wage rises at the Ministry there’s a mention of suspected criminals being part of the staff. And the worst comes from an article about a mysterious disappearance. ‘Let’s hope the son of Voldemort isn’t involved in this one too, or the Ministry will never bother to solve it.’

Albus drops the paper onto the bed and falls back against the headboard, running his fingers through his hair, stunned. It’s everywhere. This is far more than just a mistake. This is some sort of public vendetta against Scorpius. The Prophet hates him, and judging by Albus’s past experiences, if the Prophet hates him then everyone else does too.

He throws his covers off and stumbles to his feet, seized by the sudden urge to fix this. He’s the only one who can, after all. He’s the one who disappeared. If he shows up whole and healthy then they can’t blame Scorpius anymore. Scorpius’s name will be cleared and they can all stop talking about him. He can get on with his life and get everything he deserves.

Everyone hates Scorpius.

It hits Albus again and he grips the back of the chair nearest to him. This has been Scorpius’s life for seven years. Seven years. And it’s all his fault.

He starts getting dressed. He doesn’t know what clothes he’s putting on, and he doesn’t much care. Whatever he wears now it doesn’t matter as long as he’s decent. Except when he looks in the mirror he realises he’s put on last night’s tank top, and he doesn’t want the whole world seeing his scars, not yet. After everything Scorpius has been through that’s horribly selfish, but... not yet.

He pulls the top off and hurls it across the room, then he picks up a soft green button down shirt and puts that on instead. When he looks in the mirror he doesn’t look that much of a mess, but it does bring out his eyes, and his eyes bring out his hair. He looks more like his dad than he has done in a long time, and he’s not ready for that yet either.

Feeling sick with guilt and anger he goes to the bathroom. He slathers salve on his arms, just in case, then he downs a bottle of his potion and watches in the mirror as his eyes fade from bright green to muddy brown. He feels like a coward, but his chest is also a bit looser and he can breathe. On the way to the front door he grabs the only hat he owns, an old knitted hat in Slytherin green. Even though it’s the height of summer he jams it on his head and Apparates to Diagon Alley before he can have any second thoughts.

He lands by the bins at the back of the Leaky Cauldron and goes storming through the wall onto the street. It’s packed with people, and the second he sees them all he balks and flattens his back against the wall. He buries his face in his shaking hands and gulps in several deep breaths, trying to steady himself and remind himself that it’s okay. He’s in disguise. No one knows who he is.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He feels a hand on his arm and looks up to see an older lady peering at him through her spectacles.

He nods quickly. “Yes. Y-yes. I-I am. Thank you. I’m just... I don’t like crowds much.”

“Where are you off to?” The lady asks. “I can come with you if you like.”

“Oh.” Albus smiles at her. “No. No, that’s okay. I’ll be alright. I don’t want to hold you up. I’ll just take my time, and...”

“Are you sure, dear?”

“Sure,” Albus says. “I promise.”

She pats his arm. “Alright then. Take it slowly. You’ll be okay. It’s quieter up past the bank.”

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you,” then he screws up his courage and sets off up the street.

He weaves his way through the crowds, keeping his head down. The hat is itchy in the heat, and there are already beads of sweat running down his forehead, but he can’t take it off. Whenever someone looks at him for too long he pulls it down lower, trying to make sure that none of his hair is poking out. He feels as though the whole world can see through his disguise. Everyone on this street knows his face, surely someone must have recognised him by now?

In his panic, he walks straight into a woman carrying an empty cage and several bags of shopping, and she drops the cage, which goes clattering onto the cobbles. He goes scrambling after it as it rolls, snatching it up and shoving it back at her.

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“That’s al-“ She stops, staring at him. “Hang on. You look familiar. Are you-“

“I’m no one,” Albus says. “I assure you. I’m no one.”

He makes a run for it.

As he weaves through the crowd he glances back, and he can see the woman talking to another shopper, pointing after him. He feels sick. His breath starts to come in snatches, made even worse by the fact that he’s half running down the street now. His chest is so tight that he can’t get any air in. The world closes in and he knows the message is being passed down the street right now. Albus Severus Potter is here. He’s going to be found and he’s not ready. He’s not ready. He’s not ready.

A familiar bright orange shop looms up ahead. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. In his panicked brain it looks like a safe haven. Even though there are people he knows in there – James will probably be working today – he doesn’t care. Better James see him than the whole world catch him. He’d rather just be with his brother. He’s more ready for that than everyone. Maybe he can hide in there until the storm passes. At least until he can breathe again.

He stumbles up the steps and in through the door, where he leans against the wall for a moment and tries to calm down. It’s almost working but then someone tuts at him for blocking the exit and he apologises and goes reeling further into the shop, looking for somewhere to stand, somewhere quiet, anywhere.

The shop is full of people, and there are tables and stands everywhere. There’s no spare inch of wall where he can stand out of the way, so he weaves further into the shop, leaning on the tables for support.

He knows the Defence Against the Dark Arts section will be quiet, or the staffroom at the back. He’s been through there before, of course he has, he’s family. If he went in there now someone might try to stop him, but he could just tell them who he is. They might recognise him. Scorpius did. His mum did.

There are several people browsing the Dark Arts section when he passes through the curtain. One of them he recognises, and he thinks they might be an Auror. He doesn’t want to hang around anywhere there’s an Auror, so he ducks his head and rushes past, heading for the very back of the shop. He doesn’t pause when he gets there, he pushes aside the second curtain and goes rushing into the back room, where he finds his brother drinking a cup of tea and running through a stock report.

“You can’t come in here. This isn’t a-“ James looks up and freezes, eyes widening. “Fuck,” he breathes.

“James,” Albus gasps, hunching over, clutching his chest.

James sets his tea aside and drops the stock report on the floor. “Are you okay? You can’t come back and die on me.” He rushes across and takes hold of Albus’s arm, guiding him over to the chair.

“Not used... to all these people,” Albus manages.

James rubs his back. “Breathe, Albus. Breathing is good.” He hovers by Albus’s side, seeming very uncertain. “I can make tea. I’ll make tea. You... sit there and breathe.”

It’s such a James way of dealing with the situation that Albus almost bursts into tears on top of everything else. He just about manages to keep it together though, and in the quiet stillness of the back room he gets his breathing under control by the time the kettle has boiled.

“Have a drink,” James advises, pressing the mug into his hands.

“Thanks,” Albus whispers. He takes a sip and pulls a face. “It’s got sugar in.”

“Sugar is good for the soul,” James says, sitting down on the floor and staring up at Albus. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Albus takes a long drink of the tea and sets the mug down next to James’s. “I needed to find Scorpius.” He lifts his head and gets a proper look at his brother for the first time in seven years. There’s a cleanness to him that was never there before. He looks put together. He looks properly grown up, Albus realises. He’s clean shaven, his light brown hair is neatly cut, and his magenta robes are perfectly pressed. But despite it all, he’s still so James that it hurts: that sparkle in his eyes, alongside a new kindness that Albus has never seen before but that he normally associates with their mum.

“What’s Scorpius doing here?” James asks. “Scorpius doesn’t come to Diagon Alley apparently. Not if he can avoid it.”

“He had to go to Gringotts for work. Why doesn’t he come here?”

James looks at him. “How often do you read the papers?”

Albus swallows. “I-I read them this morning. That’s why I wanted to... I need to find him and say sorry. But there are so many people around, and I thought someone might have recognised me, and it all got a bit much...”

“So you came to hide here.” James nods. “Is that how seeing you works? You drop by when it suits you?” There’s a twist of bitterness in his voice that leaves Albus feeling like he’s been hit.

“I didn’t mean to-“ He swallows and stares at James. “I’m sorry.”

James picks up his stock report and gets to his feet. “I’m sure you are. But it’s been seven years, Albus. Sorry might not be enough after all this time.”

Albus stares at him, utterly stunned. “I don’t know what else to-“

“You don’t know what it was like without you,” James says, stopping and looking at him. “You have no idea. Mum was inconsolable for months, Albus. Dad never stopped looking for you. He hasn’t had a day off in years because he doesn’t want to miss a chance to find you. Lily cried herself to sleep every day after you left. Even though the rumours clearly aren’t true, Scorpius’s life is still in tatters. And here I am, trying to hold the whole mess together, and wishing I could re-say every single word I ever said to you, like it might make a difference, like you wouldn’t have been selfish enough to run off no matter what your life had been like.”

Albus opens his mouth to try and speak, but nothing comes out, so he just makes a strangled little noise and buries his face in his hands, not sure what he wants to do. He wants to cry. He wants to turn and run and never come back. He also desperately wants to hug his brother and drink his tea and keep hearing his voice, no matter how much the words feel like they’re wounding him.

James runs a hand through his hair. “It’s been really shit, Albus. Really really shit.”

“I know,” Albus says in a very small voice, not sure if that’s the right thing to say.

“If you weren’t my little brother I’d probably hex you right now,” James says. He slaps the stock report down on a nearby table and turns round in a circle. “But you are my little brother. So I’ll restrain myself until further notice.” He walks back to Albus and crouches down on the floor again. “Do you think they did spot you?”

Albus shakes his head. “I don’t know. I-I don’t... I hoped they might not have recognised me because of the disguise, but...”

James snorts. “What disguise?” He reaches up and tugs Albus’s bobble hat off. “Is that what you’re calling this ridiculous thing? It’s the middle of summer, Albus. How did you manage to hide for seven years?”

“I changed my eyes too,” Albus mutters.

“Oh,” James says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because that makes all the difference.” He rolls his eyes. “If you wanted a real disguise you should have come to us.”

“Why would I have come to you?” Albus asks. “You’d have turned me in.”

James shrugs. “I’m not going to turn you in now. Maybe I wouldn’t have done it then, either. Here.” He gets to hide feet and crosses to one of the shelves, reaching into an open box and digging around inside. Eventually he pulls something out and tosses it across to Albus. “Chameleon Comb. For your hair. So you don’t have to boil to death under that hat. You’re welcome.”

Albus picks up the comb and examines it. “Thank you?”

James bows. “Least I can do for my little brother.”

“Your little brother who you hate,” Albus says softly, turning the comb over in his hands. “You don’t have to-“

“I do not hate you,” James protests, spinning round to look at him. “No. That’s utter slander. I love you. I’m also, I think justifiably, pissed off at you. That’s not the same as hatred.”

“Isn’t it?” Albus asks, picking his tea mug up and taking another sip.

“Not even a little bit,” James says. He leans against the shelf and folds his arms. “You’re a selfish git, but so was I, so I can’t exactly talk. I’m mad at you for how much you’ve hurt everyone, but given that you’re in here terrified because someone outside might have seen you, I suspect that you’re also hurting. There’s far more to all this than meets the eye so there’s no point hating you. If you think I hate you then we’re right back at square one really, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so,” Albus says, a little bit stunned.

“Good, then there we go.” He pushes off the shelf and comes over to Albus. “Does Scorpius know you’re in here?”

Albus shakes his head. “We said we’d meet up but not where.”

James tuts. “You two are useless.”

“I saw the papers,” Albus says. “I saw what they’re saying about him. I need to find him and apologise, or... I don’t know what. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I can. But I couldn’t wait.”

“So you’re still as reckless as you were the day you ran away then,” James says with a grin. He ruffles Albus’s hair. “Will you be alright going outside?”

“No idea,” Albus murmurs. “It’s terrifying. I don’t want everyone to know I’m here yet.”

“But Scorpius knows,” James says. “Mum knows. I know. Aren’t we the hardest people? Surely the world doesn’t matter.”

“They’ll call Dad,” Albus explains. “And that I’m really afraid of.”

“Dad was the reason you ran away in the first place,” James says, but Albus isn’t sure whether there’s a hint of a question in there too. No one knows even now exactly why he ran, no one apart from himself.

“It was mostly Dad,” he admits. “But it was school too. And I didn’t always get on with you, which didn’t help. It was a lot of things. A lot of not fitting in. I didn’t want to disappoint you all anymore.”

“So you ran away and broke our hearts instead,” James says, nodding.

“I thought I was doing you a favour,” Albus mutters, avoiding his gaze.

James snorts. “Has anyone explained to you what a favour is, Albus? It’s a nice thing you do for someone that you don’t ask any repayment for. It’s not disappearing for seven years and frightening the life out of them.”

“I didn’t realise that...” Albus sighs. “I thought you’d all be better off without me. I still think that a little bit.”

James shakes his head. “Albus...” He puts a hand on Albus’s arm and looks right at him. “It was difficult, I get that. You were unhappy, you were struggling. I didn’t see it at the time, but looking back it was glaringly obvious; I was just too oblivious to see it. But you could have talked about it instead. You had options. We’re your family. As hard as it may have been to see, we loved you. We still do. Desperately.”

“Talking is hard though,” Albus says. “Talking to Dad is hardest of all.”

“He never talked to you. He just sort of exploded at you.”

“Right.” Albus fiddles with his hat. “I still don’t know how to... It was easier to disappear than to keep trying and failing, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Nothing like a seven year disappearance to start a conversation,” James says lightly, and Albus smiles.

“It might have been a bit dramatic, but you know how I felt now, don’t you?”

James shrugs and digs his hands in his pockets. “You were desperately unhappy. You were lonely. You were lost. You were scared.”

“Most of it’s still true,” Albus murmurs. “Except now I feel guilty too. Very, very...”

“If it helps at all,” James says softly, squeezing his arm. “I forgive you. And I hope you’ll forgive me too.”

“What am I forgiving you for?” Albus asks, frowning.

“My part in all the bullshit that led to you running away,” James says simply.

“I do. Forgive you. Of course I do. I... I missed you so much.”

James ruffles his hair. “You too, little brother. You too.”

Albus isn’t quite sure who starts it, whether it’s him or James, but next thing he knows he’s hugging his brother tighter than he ever has before and it feels wonderful. It feels like something has fallen into place, and a little of his fear has melted away.

“I love you,” he mumbles into his brother’s shoulder.

“Everyone loves me,” James replies, but then he pushes Albus right to arms length and looks him in the eye. “I love you too. You may be a selfish little prick but you’re my selfish little prick.”

Albus smiles. “Thanks. I think.” He picks up his mug and drinks down the rest of his tea. “I-I think I should go and see if I can find Scorpius.”

“Can you handle it?” James asks. “Will you be okay out there?”

Albus shrugs. “No idea, but I can’t stay in here.” He gets to his feet. “Scorpius has been dealing with this for seven years. I think I can repay him by being terrified for a couple more minutes.”

“If it gets bad come back though,” James says, also getting up.

Albus nods. “Thank you. A-and... If you could avoid mentioning this to George and Ron, and particularly Dad, that would be amazing.”

James picks up the Chameleon Comb and starts attacking Albus’s hair with it. “Your secret is safe with me.”

 Albus leaves the shop with bright pink hair. According to James, you can never tell what colour a Chameleon Comb is going to make it go, but Albus doesn’t believe him. He knows it’s payback, and he knows he deserves it, so he doesn’t argue about it too much, although he does threaten to hex James, who just sing-songs that pink hair is character building.

Albus jams the bobble hat back onto his head and heads up the street towards Gringotts. He’s not sure the disguise is any better now. Surely the pink is like a beacon and everyone’s more likely to notice him. But it seems to do the opposite. Fewer people look in his direction, and he guesses it’s because most members of the general public want nothing to do with a man who goes out on a summer day with pink hair and a bobble hat.

When he gets to the bank doors, Albus pauses on the step, staring up at the inscription there. Even though he’s not disguised because he wants to steal from the bank, the words still make Albus feel uneasy. Surely goblins can see through things like Chameleon Combs and basic colour change potions. Would they turn him in?

He’s still dithering when the door opens and a white blond someone wearing sky blue robes comes rushing out and walks straight into him.

“Scorpius!” Albus says, taking hold of his arms to steady him. “I was looking for you.”

Scorpius regains his balance and stumbles back a step, staring at Albus. “What are you doing here? Why are you wearing a bobble hat in the middle of summer? That’s really- Dumbledore, do you have pink hair?”

Albus pulls the hat down on his head. “I ran into James and he decided to help me with my disguise.”

Scorpius grins and takes hold of the bobble, plucking the hat off of Albus’s head. He blinks. “Okay, that’s very pink.”

“My dear brother,” Albus sighs, trying to take the bobble hat back, but Scorpius holds it out of reach.

“No, I like the pink. And it’s far too hot for you to wear this.” He puts the hat in the pocket of his robes. “Did you say you saw James?”

Albus nods. “I thought someone recognised me,” He gestures down the street. “So I hid in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and James happened to also be in my hiding place.”

“How is he?” Scorpius asks.

Albus looks down at his feet. “He’s really mad at me, and he called me a little prick, but he also said he loves me, so... I think it’s okay.”

Scorpius smiles. “That sounds good.” He rubs Albus’s arm, and Albus looks up at him, all the guilt flooding back as he takes in the brightness of Scorpius’s eyes, so full of hope and happiness despite everything.

“Scorpius,” Albus murmurs. “I... I read the paper this morning.”

Scorpius’s face falls. “Did you?”

Albus nods and licks his lips. “I... I did.”

“You shouldn’t believe anything you read in there,” Scorpius says, dropping his hands to his sides. “It’s trash. I mean some of the stories are alright, and obviously the Quidditch coverage is good. But they say a lot of things that you shouldn’t pay attention to, and-“

“Have they been saying that stuff about you all along?” Albus asks. “Have they been blaming you for me disappearing?”

Scorpius gives a tiny twitch of a shrug. “It comes and goes. I think it’s fashionable, sometimes, to say-“

“Scorpius.” Albus stares up at him. He’s lit up by the sunlight, face glowing, hair a halo round his head. He looks beautiful but he also looks sad and defeated, like Albus knowing about all this has deflated him a bit.

“It’s okay,” Scorpius murmurs. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out. You’ve got enough problems without...”

“But it’s my fault,” Albus says. “If I hadn’t run away, they wouldn’t have-“

Scorpius sighs. “There have always been rumours, Albus. Always. Ever since I was born people have thought the worst of me. Now they just have proof.”

“But it’s a lie!” Albus shouts. A couple of pigeons flutter up off the steps next to them, and a couple of people in the crowd nearby glance up at them, curious to know what the shouting is about. When they see Scorpius they do a double take, and he waves at them, wiggling his fingers. They shake their heads and hurry away.

“There is no proof,” Albus says, considerably quieter now. “I’m alive. It’s all made up. And you’re not the son of Voldemort or any of that crap. You’re the son of Draco and Astoria Malfoy.”

“Which is bad enough for most people,” Scorpius mutters.

“People are idiots,” Albus says. He reaches out to take Scorpius’s hand but thinks better of it. Scorpius is all hunched up right now, defensive, guarded, like he doesn’t want to be touched.

“What if people are right?” He asks.

“But they’re not,” Albus says. “You’re... you’re Scorpius. You’re good and kind and beautiful, and I don’t just mean physically, I mean your heart too. You shine. You’re the best person I know, and I wouldn’t be a fraction of the person I am without you in my life.”

Scorpius gestures to the street behind Albus. “All these people hate me, Albus. The entire country can’t be wrong.”

Albus looks over his shoulder, then turns all the way round to face the crowd. “They’ve been lied to,” he says. “All of them. They think they’re right because they don’t know the truth.” He glances back at Scorpius. “And the truth is that you’re incredible. You’re smart and talented and absolutely brilliant. Life has thrown as much shit at you as it can and you’re still you. You’re still shining.”

Albus’s heart is pounding in his chest. He’s standing up here on these steps in front of a crowded street. Anyone could see him, anyone could recognise him. There could be photos on the way to the Prophet right now, but he doesn’t care anymore. Faced with Scorpius, Scorpius who’s been tormented his whole life by stupid rumours and vitriol, none of it matters. Scorpius makes Albus feel a hundred times braver than he really is.

“Listen!” He shouts, raising his voice to address the entire street. “Hey, listen to me!”

People nearby look up at him, and Scorpius makes a tiny noise of panic.

“Albus!” He squeaks. “Albus, stop. What are you doing?”

“Clearing your name,” Albus says, grinning. He feels manic, as high on adrenaline as he does during a race. He’s buzzing, and he knows this is the right thing to do, even though it’s ridiculous and stupid. This is what he has to do.

“This is Scorpius Malfoy,” he yells, pointing at Scorpius. “Yes, that Scorpius. And he’s not the person you think he is. He’s not a murderer, or a kidnapper, or... or anything. He’s the best person I’ve ever met. He’s far too good for me, and far too good for all of you. Whatever you think of him... stop.” He glances back at Scorpius. “My name is Albus Severus Potter, and I’m telling you to stop.”

He faces the street again, looking at all the people now watching him, curious about the commotion. “I’m here. I’m alive. A-and I’m in love with this man. And if any of you had any sense then you’d love him too because he’s… He’s the best.”

“Albus,” Scorpius hisses, face bright pink, hiding behind his hands.

“Scorpius Malfoy is amazing, so leave him the fuck alone!” Albus’s voice rises at the end of the sentence, so it rings down the now silent street. For a moment there’s a stunned stillness, then utter chaos breaks out.

“It’s Albus Potter!”

“No it’s not. He’s some delusional freak.”

“But that is Scorpius Malfoy.”

“The son of Voldemort!”

“Albus Potter!”

“Quick, someone get a picture.”

“Call the Prophet.”

“Call the Aurors!”

“What have you done?” Scorpius asks, rushing down the steps and grabbing Albus’s arm. “What was that?”

Albus shakes his head. “I don’t know! I wanted to- I don’t know, Scorpius.”

A flashbulb goes off, and they both turn to see a camera being waved above the crowd.

“Shit,” Albus mutters.

“We need to get out of here,” Scorpius says, seizing his hand. “Albus, come on.”

“Where are we going?” Albus asks.

“I don’t think it matters!” Scorpius says, squeezing both his hands. “We just need to go. They’re taking photos, they’re going to-“

“Someone grab him!”

A small group break free of the crowd and come storming up the steps towards them.

“I’m going to Apparate,” Scorpius yells, then he twists sideways, pulling Albus with him, and they turn into crushing darkness, then blinding sunshine.

Albus loses his balance when he lands and goes tumbling onto the ground, pulling Scorpius with him. They end up in a heap, lying on the sun-browned grass of a village green, the blue sky above them, and a pair of very surprised ducks waddling away towards their pond, flapping and quacking.

“What did you do?” Scorpius asks, scrambling upright and staring down at Albus. His cheeks are still red, and he looks flustered, his hair a mess and his robes askew. “What were you thinking?”

Albus sits up and shrugs. “I don’t know. I-I wanted to tell everyone... I don’t think I did think?”

“Clearly not!” Scorpius says, running a hand through his hair and turning around on the spot. “Albus everyone knows now. Someone got a photo of us. Of you. You’re going to be all over the paper. You- you’re such an idiot.”

Albus pulls his knees up to his chest and looks up at Scorpius. “Are you mad at me?”

Scorpius spreads his arms and makes a noise that sounds like an explosion of confusion, frustration, and a hundred other things. “Life with you is never going to be boring, is it?”

Albus rests his chin on his knees and shrugs. “I suppose not.”

Scorpius spins around again, then lets out a high-pitched, hysterical giggle. “Did you just tell the whole world that I’m brilliant and that you’re in love with me?”

Albus lifts his head and looks at him. “It’s a bit of a blur, but I think I might have done.”

Scorpius buries his face in his hands and makes a squeaking noise. “Dumbledore, I love it. I love you. I- You’re such an idiot.” Then he drops down onto his knees in front of Albus and kisses him hard.

It’s so unexpected that Albus makes a noise of surprise before managing to grip Scorpius’s shoulders and kiss back. When they part he falls back, catching himself with his hands stretched behind him, spreading his legs out across the straw-like, dried grass.

“Your hair’s still pink,” Scorpius says, sitting down between his legs. “You’re going to be in the paper declaring your love to me with pink hair.”

Something inside Albus bursts. The bubble of fear and anxiety that has been swelling in his heart not just this morning but over the whole week – over the last seven years – pops, and suddenly there’s so much space inside him, so much freedom. Everyone knows now. Everyone has seen him. There’s no hiding anymore. It’s over.

He starts to laugh. A tiny little giggle breaks out of him, but it builds quickly and he can’t stop it. Soon he’s properly laughing, his whole body shaking, and he can’t breathe. He falls back onto the grass and rolls onto his side, curling up into a foetal position and clutching his stomach as he howls.

And then Scorpius is laughing too, lips twitching first into a smile, then into a grin, until he’s doubled over, hands braced on his knees, cackling. Albus looks up to see tears streaming down Scorpius’s face, and that just makes him laugh harder. He crawls across the grass and pats Scorpius on the side, then collapses back onto the ground and covers his face with his hand as he laughs and laughs and laughs.

It takes a while for them to calm down, and when they do they stay there on the grass. They lie side by side in the middle of the village green, staring up at the jewel bright sky, fingers brushing together. There’s undoubtedly turmoil elsewhere, words being written, photos being printed, rumours flying, but here they’re alone with just the ducks for company, in a Muggle village, as far as they could possibly be from the wizarding world and its gossip.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Scorpius murmurs, turning his head to look at Albus.

Albus shakes his head. “Neither can I.”

Scorpius smiles. “You’ve got pink hair and brown eyes. No one’s going to believe you.”

“I don’t think I care,” Albus says, squeezing his hand.

Scorpius reaches across and brushes a finger down Albus’s cheek, then he leans in and kisses him. “I love you, you ridiculous pink-haired idiot with a death wish.”

Albus rests his forehead against Scorpius’s and closes his eyes. “I don’t deserve it, but I’ll never stop being grateful.”

Scorpius brushes his fingers through Albus’s bright pink hair, and they listen to a car rush down the road beside the green, the ducks quack and splash in the distance, and the stir of a breeze through the solitary oak tree.

“Where are we?” Albus asks finally. He sits up and looks around. “I’ve never been here before.”

Scorpius sits up too, brushing bits of dried grass out of his hair and off his robes. “Unless I’ve done an absolutely atrocious Apparition job, we should be in a place called Little Hangleton.”

“Okay,” Albus says. “And why are we in Little Hangleton?”

Scorpius gets to his feet and offers Albus a hand up. “Because this is where Delphi’s Gringotts account is registered. We’re going investigating.”

“This is where Delphi lives?” Albus asks, taking Scorpius’s hand and getting up. He looks around with more curiosity now. “But it’s so... it’s so Muggle. Anyway, why do we need to be in the place where Delphi’s bank account is registered? That makes it sound like we’re investigating her...”

Scorpius looks Albus dead in the eye. “We are.”

Albus frowns. “But Delphi’s not-“

Scorpius raises a hand to stop him. “Albus.”

Albus closes his mouth and looks at Scorpius, waiting.

Scorpius bows his head. “Look, I know she’s your best friend. If you don’t feel comfortable coming with me I understand. But I have to do this, Albus.”

Albus shuffles his feet on the ground and considers. “What exactly are you investigating her for?”

“I’ve been looking at the league’s financial records with my dad,” Scorpius says. “We found some weird names there. Lots of um... lots of names of former Death Eaters. So we looked for connections between them, and we found that they all led back to Delphi’s account. Delphini Black-“

“Black?” Albus asks, eyebrows raising. “I didn’t know that was her surname. I didn’t even know she had a surname.” He digs his hands into his pockets. “And she’s a good person, she’s not a- you know. So why would she have all those accounts linked with her?”

Scorpius spreads his hands. “That’s what I’m here to find out.” He pulls a scrap of parchment from his pocket. “I went to Gringotts earlier to ask about the account. They said it’s not officially in Delphi’s name, it’s under the name Cygnus Black, but this is the address it’s registered to.” He holds the parchment out for Albus to read, and Albus squints at Scorpius’s scrawl.

“Hangleton House, Little Hangleton.” He looks at Scorpius. “So we’re going to find this Hangleton House?”

“And see what we can find out about Delphi, Cygnus, any of this.”

Albus considers for a couple of seconds, trying to decide whether he’s happy to help investigate Delphi. He’s hardly the least biased party, but now he’s here he finds that he’s curious. Delphi has always been very private, but so has he so he’s never questioned it, except he realises now that he’d like to know more about her. Seeing her home would be fascinating. And if he can help find evidence to clear her name of any connection with Death Eaters then he should.

“Alright,” he says, nodding. “I’ll come. Where is it?”

Scorpius points across the green, down the high street, and off towards an ornate set of gates just visible in the distance, set on a bend in the road. “I think it might be through there.”

The gate is padlocked when they reach it, the hinges rusted, curls of ivy clinging to the iron filigree. Scorpius glances around to check the coast is clear before he draws his wand and taps it on the padlock, which springs open. It takes a bit of force to finally get the gate open, but Albus eventually breaks past the rust and clinging leaves, and gestures for Scorpius to lead the way inside.

“It doesn’t look very inhabited,” Scorpius murmurs, as they set off up the overgrown driveway. “Does it?”

Albus shakes his head, looking around at the bright banks of rhododendron that are invading the path. Wild flowers grow in the centre of the dirt track, along with strangling, tangled weeds. The trees bow inwards, casting the drive into shadow.

“I don’t think anyone’s been here for a while,” Albus mutters.

“If they have then they aren’t very keen on gardening,” Scorpius says.

Albus smiles. “Delphi’s been away for a year. Could that explain all this?”

Scorpius shrugs and brushes a hand over the delicate petals of a wild rose bush. “Places like this are expensive to run. If you had enough money to live in a fancy manor, wouldn’t you make sure someone was taking care of the grounds for you while you were away?”

“Even I had a housekeeper,” Albus concedes.

“Exactly.”

They keep going up the drive until they round a corner and the trees to their right disappear, leaving a view down the valley. The high street is just away to the right, below them now. There’s a little church down there, and a tiny graveyard that spreads out beside the river. It’s a beautiful area, leafy and green, surrounded by soaring, forested hills.

“I can see why you’d want to live here though,” Albus says. “Look at that view. This would be an amazing place to go flying.”

Scorpius nudges him. “Is that all you think about these days?” He asks. “Flying?”

Albus nudges him back. “And you. Flying and you.”

Scorpius grins. “I like that answer.”

They turn away from the view and look at the house, which is towering over them now. There’s no word to describe it aside from derelict. It looks deserted. Some of the windows are smashed, the brickwork is crumbling, and there are tiles missing from the roof of one of the towers, which must have been blown down by a storm and never replaced. Climbing roses and ivy and honeysuckle are running rampant over the walls, even clambering in through the broken windows. What must once have been a grand manor house is now in a state of disrepair. It almost looks sad.

“I really hope Delphi doesn’t live here,” Albus says softly. “It doesn’t look safe...”

“This wasn’t what I was expecting,” Scorpius agrees. “It’s abandoned. I doubt we’ll find anything here.”

“We might.” Albus goes over to the front entrance, a big door covered with peeling black paint and a single tarnished golden door knob in the centre. The steps leading up to it are crumbling and weathered, but they don’t feel unsafe as Albus climbs them and tries the front door.

He’s barely touched the knob when the door swings inward.

“Scorpius,” he calls, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s open. Do you think we should go inside?”

Scorpius hesitates, then comes over and peers into the dark house. “I’m not sure... I know spells to make it safe, but... there’s probably nothing in there.”

Albus smirks at him. “Are you scared? It’s just a deserted house, Scorpius. There’s nothing in there that can hurt you. Just rats and ivy.”

Scorpius shakes his head. “Not... not scared. I don’t think. But it feels weird. It feels wrong.”

Albus stands very still, opening up all his senses, trying to work out what Scorpius means, but he gets nothing. It just smells a bit musty and looks a bit dark.

“I think it’s okay,” Albus says, glancing at him.

Scorpius purses his lips and twists his hands together. “I feel like we’re being watched. I don’t like it here.”

Albus smiles. “It’s all those rats.” He puts a hand on Scorpius’s arm. “Come on, we’ll stick together. Have a poke around and then go and get ice cream somewhere. There might be a place in the village.”

Scorpius inhales and pauses for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Okay. I’m probably just being stupid. Let’s go inside.”

They nudge the door further open and step into the cool shade of the entrance hall. Only now they’re inside does Albus understand what Scorpius had meant about the atmosphere. There’s something dark and depressing about this place, and his neck prickles as they move down the hall. He closes his hand round his wand in his pocket and glances over his shoulder to check that the doorway is clear, which it is.

Scorpius has his wand out completely and has lit it. He’s now waving it towards the ceiling, mouthing complicated spells that Albus hopes will shore up the crumbling plasterwork. The wand movements paired with the light make shadows dance back and forth across the ceiling, throwing different patches of the hall into complete blackness as Scorpius casts. It means that Albus can’t quite see what’s going on in all four corners of the hall at once, and that makes him nervous.

He draws his wand and casts Lumos for himself. When he holds his wand steady he can see the whole passage, and there’s nothing there. There’s only a dusty carpet, a painting on the wall of a family of three, and peeling paper on the walls.

Albus goes over to the painting and shines his wand at it. It’s definitely a Muggle painting because no one is moving. Everyone in it looks severe and serious, wearing clothes that he assumes must be from the 1930s. Judging by the amount of jewellery glittering round the necks of the lone woman, and the large watches on the mens’ wrists, they must be rich. It reminds him a little of the portraits he’s seen of Scorpius’s family, the hand of the father on the son’s shoulder while the mother stands nearby and looks suitably impressive and beautiful.

“Do you think they lived here?” Albus asks, gesturing to the painting.

Scorpius stops staring at the ceiling and glances at him. “Undoubtedly. Does it say who they are?”

Albus shakes his head. There’s a gold plaque beneath the painting where the names presumably should be, but it’s blank, like it’s been wiped clean somehow and the engraving erased.

“Strange for a Black family house to have a Muggle painting in it,” Scorpius says, frowning at the picture. “They’ve always been the purest of Purebloods on the whole...”

“Maybe this belonged to one of the ones that was less pure?” Albus suggests.

“Maybe.” Scorpius shrugs and directs his wand to the stairs. “Shall we go up? We can start in the bedrooms and then work down to the drawing room and whatever else is down here.”

Albus nods. “Good plan.”

The stairs creak as they climb. It’s brighter on the upper floor, thanks to a long crack in the roof that’s letting the sunlight stream through. Albus Noxes his wand but doesn’t put it away. Beside him, Scorpius is casting spells again, this time on both floor and ceiling.

Every step is cautious. Even with Scorpius’s spells in place, Albus doesn’t entirely trust the floor. He keeps a hand on the wall as he makes his way to the first room on the corridor and nudges the door open. The second he does, something starts flapping around inside, and Albus jumps back and closes it again, heart racing.

“Scorpius, there’s something in there.”

Scorpius lowers his wand and comes over to stand behind Albus. “What is it?”

“Well how am I supposed to know?” Albus whispers, high-pitched with the fear that’s been building ever since he got in here. “I heard noises.”

“Animal noises?” Scorpius asks.

”Flapping,” Albus says. “It’s probably a bird, but what if it’s not?”

Scorpius grips his wand tighter, looks Albus in the eye, then flings the door open.

Instantly a big black bird takes flight and starts flapping around the room, wings beating on the walls and ceiling. There’s a hole in the roof, but the bird doesn’t seem to be able to find its way through. It takes a minute for it to settle on the bed and glare at Albus and Scorpius with a beady black eye.

“It’s a crow,” Scorpius says, but Albus shakes his head.

“No. It’s an Augurey.” He steps into the room and moves slowly towards the bird. “Delphi thinks they’re fascinating,” he says. “I think they’re her favourite animal.” He crouches down at eye level with the Augurey, which blinks at him and then opens its beak. It emits a sharp, mournful cry that pierces Albus like a physical pain and brings tears to his eyes. Behind him he hears Scorpius gasp.

“What was that?” Scorpius asks, and Albus looks round to see him clutching his heart. “It hurt.”

“They cry,” Albus says. “People used to believe it was when they could sense death, but...”

Scorpius swallows. “But?”

“But it’s just rain. They know when it’s going to rain.” Albus reaches out a hand towards the Augurey, which blinks at him again, then takes flight, fluttering straight up and disappearing through the hole in the roof, leaving the two of them alone.

Scorpius exhales in a shaky stream. “I don’t think I like Augureys.”

“They’re interesting,” Albus says, staring upwards at the hole. “I think they’re misunderstood, a bit like us really... I’ve never actually met one in person before.”

“Well I’m glad you’ve had an educational experience,” Scorpius says. “Can we please go now? There’s nothing in here, Albus.”

Albus looks around the room and realises he’s right. Aside from the bed and an empty wardrobe with one door hanging off it’s hinges the room is completely bare. If they’re going to find anything interesting in this house, it won’t be in here.

“Okay,” he says. “Why don’t we split up? You check the rooms on this side of the corridor; I’ll do the other side. That way we’ll be done quicker and we can leave.”

Scorpius hesitates. He looks torn between the desire to stay together and the desire to leave sooner. But after a moment of indecision, he nods. “Alright. Maybe we can check in after every room? Just in case. And call me if you find anything.”

Albus nods. “I promise.”

They go back into the corridor and face their respective doors, side by side. Albus’s heart is racing, all his senses are on edge. Every creak of the floorboards makes him jump, and every few seconds he glances at the stairs, just to double check that no one is standing there watching them.

“Ready?” Albus whispers, trying to inject a confidence he doesn’t feel into his voice.

“No,” Scorpius replies.

Albus gives him a shaky smile and squeezes his hand. “Good luck. See you in a minute.”

He releases Scorpius and strides forward, throwing the door open in one go because he knows that if he doesn’t he’ll never get it open. He holds his wand ahead of him as he storms into the room, but there’s no one and nothing in there. It’s a bathroom, with a porcelain, gold-footed tub, a toilet, and a sink. The mirror on the wall is cracked, and when Albus looks in it he sees a kaleidoscope of his own pink-haired, brown-eyed self staring back at him. He also notices a door in the wall behind him, which presumably leads through to the next room, so he turns and shoves it open before he has the chance to lose heart.

The next room is another bedroom, much bigger than the one with the Augurey in it, but covered with ivy, which has grown in through a broken window. There’s a four poster bed with tendrils growing up three of the posts, and a blanket of leaves for a bedspread. It must have been untouched for years, and as Albus picks his way across the overgrown floor, a pair of mice run skittering to their hole and disappear.

“Nothing yet,” Albus calls, as he steps back onto the landing.

“I’ve got some papers,” Scorpius replies. “I’ll be a minute, you keep going.”

“Delphi’s papers?” Albus asks, stepping towards the door Scorpius is behind.

“Not sure. They’ve got really weird writing on them – runes but not ones I’ve seen before. I’m making some copies.”

“Alright,” Albus says. “I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”

He goes through the next door with considerably less fear. They’ve found nothing besides a bird and some mice so far. There’s nothing to fear in this mundane, Muggle house. It may be ruined but there’s nothing lurking in the shadows, and the next room just proves it.

It’s yet another bedroom, grand and still intact. There’s no ivy in here, and the wallpaper is surprisingly well preserved, especially given the state of the other rooms so far. There’s a photo on the dresser of a handsome young man wearing gear for some sort of Muggle sport that Albus doesn’t recognise. He’s all in white, leaning on a chunky wooden bat and grinning. This must be who the room once belonged to.

There are papers on the floor by the dresser, and Albus goes over and scoops them up, then perches on the end of the bed to read them, sending up a cloud of dust as he sits down. Most of them are letters, all addressed to ‘Tom’. Some are love letters, and Albus skips those after a couple of lines, pulling a face at the flowery attempt at poetry. There’s one thank you letter for a birthday present, a couple from someone who seems to be a friend of Tom’s, discussing everything from politics to girls, and there’s another very brief invitation to a dinner party. None of it seems to relate to Delphi at all, so Albus puts them on top of the dresser next to the photo and is about to start going through the drawers when something in a corner of the room catches his eye.

He looks up and sees a large snakeskin coiled there, pale, glittering in the dappled light filtering through the overgrown window. Frowning, he goes over to it and crouches down to take a closer look. It must be old because it’s fragmented, whole sections of it decayed into dust, but some strips of scales remain, and he reaches out to touch them. They’re so smooth, and so fragile. Parts of the skin break up even under the lightest brush of fingers, so he withdraws his hand and sits on his heels.

Why would there be a snakeskin here? Especially such a large one. There are wild snakes in Britain, but not ones this big, not native ones. It makes no sense.

He coughs as dust creeps into his lungs, and gets to his feet. There’s no point getting distracted by a snakeskin. The creature is probably long dead anyway. If the skin is decomposing like that it must have been there for years, and there are still mice alive in this house. If Albus were a mouse and there was a snake that big around, he wouldn’t be living here.

He crosses back to the dresser, ready to search it, but this time he stops when he sees a strange flickering light coming from under the door. Bright orange. Dancing. The same light that’s cast across a pitch when they race.

He coughs again, and it suddenly occurs to him that it’s not dust filtering into his lungs, it’s smoke. Bitter, acrid smoke. He can smell burning, and he fans himself as he realises how hot it is in here. And then he hears it, the crackle of flames, and the gentle, familiar, menacing hiss that suggests not just fire, but Fiendfyre.

Albus reels away from the door, raising his wand as he rushes to the window. It’s fine. No need to panic. He can jump. He’ll cast a Cushioning Charm and jump. He’s safe.

He gulps in a breath as the hissing fills his ears from beyond the door and fear grips him. He knows it’s his imagination, but he can almost feel the heat prickling on his arms, awakening the burns. He needs to get out. He can get out. He’s okay.

“Bombarda,” he says, pointing his wand at the window.

He expects the window to shatter, but his hand shakes as he casts the spell and the whole wall comes tumbling down, the roof sagging above it, creaking and cracking. If he doesn’t get out now the ceiling will collapse, and that’s the last thing he needs, to be trapped next door to raging Fiendfyre.

He rushes to the window and braces himself to jump, but then he remembers. In his panic he’d forgotten that he didn’t come here alone. Scorpius is somewhere on the other side of the house, and Albus can’t leave him. He has to know that Scorpius is safe.

Everything in him screams at him to jump, but he doesn’t. He turns back towards the door, and the orange, dancing light.

In his whole life he’s never done anything this stupid, but he has to get to Scorpius. He has to make sure Scorpius knows about the fire and that he’s getting out. If he Apparates across the hall he can avoid the fire he knows is there at least. He might also be Apparating into a furnace, but it’s better than running out in the blaze that he can feel is right outside the door.

He closes his eyes, turns on the spot, and falls sideways onto the bed as he loses balance. When he opens his eyes he sees that he’s in the same room with the snake skin in the corner and the photo on the dresser, so he scrambles to his feet and tries again. Nothing happens. One final attempt gets him nowhere, and although it might just be his shoddy magic, he can tell that there’s no Apparating out of this. It must be blocked here. Which makes perfect sense because Fiendfyre doesn’t just happen. It’s never an accident. It’s powerful dark magic, so someone has set the fire and made sure they can’t Apparate. Someone must want to kill them.

“Scorpius!” Albus shouts as a last alternative. “Scorpius, can you hear me?”

Nothing but crackling and hissing beyond the door.

“SCORPIUS!” He screams at the top of his lungs.

Still nothing.

There’s no other option. Albus has to go to him.

Throwing all his caution and self-preservation out of the window, Albus crouches down low to the floor, draws in a deep breath, and flings the bedroom door open.

[howevertheories]

The Lestrange Family Tree

In Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, the subject of the Lestrange Family Tree is somewhat explained. The Lestrange family tree starts with a man named Radolphus Lestrange. Radolphus was minister for magic from 1835 until 1845 when he stepped down due to health reasons. It is unknown if Corvus Lestrange I was Radolphus’s son, but Corvus married a woman named Heloise Beaufort. The couple then had a son, Corvus Ⅱ. Corvus II married Minette Rosier and they had three children, someone with the first initial M(their full name is not yet known), Josette, and Corvus III. Corvus the third married his cousin, Eglantine Lestrange and they had a son. Can you guess his name? It was Corvus Ⅳ.

This is where The Crimes of Grindelwald comes in. Leta Lestrange father was Corvus Ⅳ. Corvus Ⅳ gave birth to Leta and Corvus Ⅴ. However, since both of them are dead, that branch on the family tree died with them. So how does Bellatrix Lestrange exist? Many people believe that Leta’s supposed brother Yusuf could have been a direct relative of Bellatrix, but he was born before Corvus Ⅳ imperiused Laurena and had Leta and Corvus Ⅴ. Therefore, Yusuf’s father was not Corvus Lestrange IV, it was Mustafa Kama, making him a Kama, not a Lestrange.

However, there is still a way for Bellatrix Lestrange to be a member of the Black family. If you remember, far back in the beginning, it is unsure whether or not Radolphus Lestrange is Corvus I’s father or how many children he had, so it’s likely that he had more than one child and one of his children began a branch on the tree that led to a man that went to Hogwarts at the same time as Tom Riddle. His first name is unknown, but he’s referred to as Lestrange and he was one of Voldemort’s first death eaters. It is thought that this Lestrange is the father of Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange. Rodolphus goes on to marry Bellatrix Black and they never had any children together. However, and spoiler alert for the cursed child ahead, in The Cursed Child, it is revealed that the main antagonist, Delphini is the child of Bellatrix and Lord Voldemort. And Since Delphini dies in The Cursed Child, unless Rodolphus remarried after he got out of Azkaban, that branch of the Lestrange family tree is dead.

[daughterofyourdarklord]

👫 - asktheheirofslytherin

1.) Since Delphini was small, everyone always told her that she looked exactly like her mother. Her Father seemed to encouraged this narrative, and she could tell from the way he acted that he was, in part, grateful that she bore such a strong resemblance to Bella and not himself. She loves looking like her mother, but her eyes are her favorite feature - it was the one part of her face that was distinctively and undeniable from Him.

2.) Delphini was equal parts thrilled and terrified to go to Hogwarts. Like any young child, she harassed each of her parents for any and every story they could share about the castle. Her Father was surprisingly very willing to talk about his time spent in school, she could tell there was an innate fondness attached to each of his memories. He spent the whole night before she left sharing details with her about the castle, the common room, his own experiences. She fell asleep against his shoulder on the chesterfield dreaming about a snake filed chamber. Delphi woke up in her own room in His manor early that morning, too excited to wonder how she had gotten there.

3.) Mum was always so willing to share memories about her family, engraining in Delphini what it meant to be a Black from a very young age. Father could hardly even tell her his own last name (her own last name?). It was a very delicate balance, begging him for stories while also minding his temper. Eventually, he tells her about Merope, about Wools. She listens to everything he has to say, not once interrupting, eyes widening with every word. When she is alone later, she sobs. Heart breaking for him even if he seemed so disinterested with his own past. For a moment she is so grateful - she can't imagine ever growing up without her parents.

4.) She never calls him Dad. It's always Father, my Lord, even sir. She mirrored her mother in that behavior, and relished in the fact that she was the only one in the world able to refer to him as Father. Occasionally, when her guard is down, she'll accidentally call him dad. It happened once, when she had thought she was on death's door, and a handful of times when she was small. One day, when they are sparring and she is taunting him, it slips out. He smiles, and for the first time she wonders if he would actually prefer it.

5.) They are the only two confirmed living parselmouth's in the world. She loves that the language of snakes is something that only they share, and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, he likes it too.

6.) When she learns about Tom Riddle Sr, about how he deserted her Father, about how her Father killed him for it, she feels sick. She hates the grandfather that she never knew, hates him for what he did to her Father, how he just left Him. For the second time, Delphini begins to understand why her Father struggles so much to let people in.

7.) Sometimes she wonders who told him that they loved him when he was a child. She goes through a phase of trying to tell him this herself, so her hears it, so he knows. Delphini stops saying when she realizes how uncomfortable it can make him. She still reminds him though, every once in a while.

8.) Most of Delphini's favorite memories as a child are from the trips Father used to take her and Mother on. She loved when it was just the three of them, when they were far away from meetings and ministries and people who wanted to see them dead. Sometimes, he'd let her sit on his shoulders when they walked the beaches while he held mama's hand.

@asktheheirofslytherin

[hsvh-hp]

10 Lines Tag Game

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway

I hadn't really realized just how many fics I've written in the past few years until I went 'ten?!' and then looked at my library. 😂 Thanks yletylyf for the tag!

10. The first time Delphini noticed the girl, they were being led up to Hogwarts from the boathouse. In the light of Hagrid’s lantern, Delphini spotted a head of pink hair at the front of all the first-years. Pink hair was bold. Delphini was too nervous to want to stand out like that. She’d been pretending ever since Mummy and Daddy took her to King’s Cross that her hair was long, black, and curly. Delphini just wanted the Sorting Hat to tell her to go to Slytherin, then to eat dinner and go to bed. 

My current WIP! I have a lot of feelings about this one, all of them related to excitement. It's a fest fic and therefore not yet published, so I'm not sure that its current title is 100% set in stone. More importantly though, it's the first femslash I've written in nearly seven years. It's the first incest ever. 🌝 So we'll see how that goes over. But it's been a blast to write so far and I cannot wait to publish it!!

9. Although the closet Narcissa and Lucius shared was large, their clothing dampened all sound. It felt like the world ended at the walls, and like every little noise inside was that much louder. 

Another fest fic that I just finished, which should be out (anonymously, at least) in the next month or two! Between this and the current WIP, it's been such fun to write from female perspective again. I've clearly been in A Mood lately and focused on the Black family. Anyway, getting into Narcissa's head was such a joy, especially writing her as a dominant, headstrong figure when she tends to be a favourite for the delicate flower trope.

8. “Leon, no.”

Yet again, Draco set down the clothing he held in order to hoist Leon out of his suitcase. Leon went dead weight. If it wasn’t so cute, Draco would have unceremoniously tossed Leon out of his chamber and shut the door behind him. 

This is technically a WIP as well, since I took a break from it to write the two fest fics above. Spoilers for Draco's fourth year in my Canon in Draconis Major series, since these are the opening lines. I haven't published the chapters from third year yet where he sort-of-accidentally acquires a pet.

7. As soon as Peter heard Sirius’ motorcycle, he knew something was wrong. 

Like I said above about being in A Mood as far as tracking common themes during a period of my writing, this dark!Peter fic Terror By Night came during a period of letting certain Marauders off the leash and reaching for their full potential as villains! Peter's so easy in that regard - so self-serving, ruthless, and clever, if given the chance.

6. The Gryffindor common room was abuzz in its usual fashion as Peter crossed it. Sitting alone in a corner, looking pathetic in his dejection, was Sirius. He looked up from the piece of parchment he idly stabbed with the tip of his quill.  

Oh, poor pathetic and lonely Sirius in Life in the Rift. 🥺 Another Peter POV fic, although not as dark as the previous. I let Peter explore his potential here for friendship and forgiveness, and how that could be corrupted in time.

5. Bellatrix and Rodolphus’ wedding thus far reminded Sirius of every single pureblood one he’d attended in past. It was held at the same venue, with the same people in attendance—as far as the Black family went, anyway. 

This comes from None So Vile, my Dark!Sirius fic. Now he was a fun one to let off the leash. I catch myself daydreaming all the time about its two sequel fics. I won't be free of this little 'verse until they're eventually written.

4. Although the early morning humidity had departed from the manor land, Draco wiped his damp forehead. Standing in shade helped to cool him down, but the thick trousers and wellies he wore worked to the contrary.

It sort of floors me that the longfic I'm in the process of posting is so far down the list! I finished writing it in October, and I guess I've been a busy little bee in the meantime. This is the opening line of Draco Malfoy and the Will to Power, my canon compliant interpretation of Prisoner of Azkaban from Draco's POV.

3. The day started like any other for Draco. He woke up, had tea and toast, and then dressed for work. He threw some Floo powder into his home’s fireplace, which turned the temporary flames a cerulean blue. Draco stepped through into his office in the Department of Mysteries. 

Across the Multiverse, the most popular fic I've ever written. I hope another day comes where I get to write Draco as an Unspeakable! He was so fun, especially since that career track didn't hold him to any sort of morality. I have...feelings...about redemption arcs, so it was fun to write Draco as unconcerned about that personal path post-war. Why should he try to redeem himself when, had he done so, Ron Weasley would be dead? That was something Harry had to answer in this fic.

2. Sunday night family dinner at Malfoy Manor went about how it usually did. Cutlery clinked up and down the formal dining room table, the odd chuckle punctuating murmured conversation. Although Bellatrix sat as closely to Aunt Lucretia to her right as Rodolphus to her left, it felt like a chasm separated her and Rod from the rest of tonight’s company. 

Bella, my beloved, in Almost Human. Writing from her perspective was a joyful exploration of villain protagonists. She gets what she wants more than anything at cost of destroying Andromeda's life, which for her was a happy ending, and...yeah. Love that crazy bitch. lol

1.The Lower City smelled like absolutely nothing Draco had ever experienced before. The streets themselves were dingy with grime. He pitied the state of the bottom of his boots. They might never be clean again. 

This is my 'least popular' Drarry fic (does such a thing honestly exist?) Flesh of the Serpent, but it has a special place in my heart! Well, every fic I write does. This was the first HP fest fic I ever wrote, and I learned early on in that venture that I don't bother signing up for fests unless I'm either completely gripped by an idea or I already had a fic in the idea pile that a fest would give me an excuse to write. This one belonged to the former category.

Which, funnily enough, brings us back full circle to the two fest fics that aren't yet published - both of which the ideas utterly gripped me for and I had to write them right now at all cost of my current projects and social life.

...I can't believe that all of these fics, spare I think about half of Across the Multiverse, were written within the last year. Maybe I need to get a life.

Nah. 😂