Delphini

22

Delphi walked into the main lounge of St Oswald's Home for Old Witches and Wizards and stared at the scene in front of her. It was chaos; wonderful, magical chaos. Flowers floated near the ceiling, tangled in wool, and they seemed to dance together. The mantlepiece was wrapped in a stream wool that just kept coming. A man in a wheelchair came into the room from the other door.
"Delphi," he called. She looked at him, fighting to keep a smile on her face. This was Amos, this was her 'uncle'.
"Hello, Uncle," Delphi replied, walking over slowly. He smiled at her, though he seemed distracted.
"Hello," Amos said, "It's been a while, hasn't it?" Delphi nodded, biting her lip. Amos continued, not noticing, "You're my carer now, aren't you?"
"Yes," she said quietly as the confusion inside her head started to shout.

Delphi did what Rodolphus had told her to do for the next three months, not daring to disobey for fear of her own life. She looked after Amos, manipulating him as she went, hating herself. She had found a way to transfigure her room at will, scrawling a load of rubbish about the prophecy on the hidden wall, hoping someone would find her and stop her. Of course, they didn't. No one else could speak Parseltongue. Or had any suspicions about her. Letters came daily, they informed her of what she was to do next. Soon, it came with news of Harry Potter's son – he was the unseen child of the prophecy. He was the one she would have to find a way to manipulate. The following morning, she came into Amos' room one morning to find him reading the Daily Prophet and making notes on a scrap of parchment.
"The Ministry's seized an illegal Time-Turner," he said as she walked in, not looking up, "And Potter is shutting me out. We're going to his house tonight."
"Ok, Uncle," Delphi had been there long enough to know not to disagree, even with the thought of moving forward with the plan making her stomach drop like a stone. She gave Amos a bowl of porridge and watching as he ate, "Do you want me to come?"
"Yes...I think," Amos said thoughtfully. She could see that the reason was that she was also 'related' to Cedric and therefore more emotional family who needed Cedric back. She didn't mind though. She knew it was what she deserved – to be used like she was using him. Later, they left and Delphi apparated them both to the Potter's house. She knocked on the door and a woman with light red hair opened it. She looked at the pair of them, confused.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm Amos Diggory, this is my niece – Delphi Diggory, and we're here to speak to your husband, Mrs Potter," Amos said, bypassing all small talk.
"Why have you not come through the Ministry?" Mrs Potter asked.
"I have tried," Amos said, gritting his teeth.
"Fine. Come in," she looked fed up as she led them through to the kitchen. Harry stood by the table, sifting through a mountain of paperwork. He looked up as they entered.
"Mr Diggory?" he said, exasperated, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to talk to you about my son," Amos said. Delphi slipped out of the room, feeling the tension that was mounting in the air. No one noticed.
"We've spoken about this," Harry said, "Amos, I understand, I really do – but I'm only just home and–"
"I've tried to make appointments at the Ministry," Amos interrupted, "They say 'Ah, Mr Diggory, we have an appointment for you, let's see, in two months.' I wait. Very patiently."
"–and coming to my house in the middle of the night – when my kids are just getting ready for their new year at school – it's not right," Harry continued. Delphi turned away, not wanting to hear what Amos was going to say.  Minutes passed as she tried to block out the conversation, stood at the bottom of the stairs. Too soon, Amos' grief was difficult to ignore.
"How many people have died for the Boy Who Lived?" he said quietly, "I'm asking you to save one of them." Delphi turned away and found a fourteen-year-old boy staring over her head. He hadn't noticed her, too busy watching Amos and Harry, his face torn between emotions.
"Hello," Delphi said softly. She laughed quietly as he jumped at the sight of her, "Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean to startle," she smiled, "I used to be a big stair-listener myself. Sitting there. Waiting for someone to say something the tiniest bit interesting," she sighed inwardly; at least that had been true. Once. The boy still watched, his brown eyes darting, trying not to appear uneasy.
"Who are you?" he asked, "Because this is sort of my house and–"
"I'm a thief of course. I'm about to steal everything you own. Give me your gold, your wand and your Chocolate Frogs!" she smiled again, "Either that or I'm Delphini Diggory," she walked up towards the boy and held out her hand, "Delphi. I look after him – Amos – well, I try. And you are?" The boy looked at her, grinning ruefully.
"Albus," he said. Delphi recoiled slightly – this boy was the one she would have to manipulate beyond repair. This young boy. She tried to hide her shock and began speaking quickly.
"Of course! Albus Potter! So Harry is your dad? That's a bit of a wow isn't it?" she rambled.
"Not really," he mumbled. Delphi bit her lip.
"Have I just put my foot in it?" she searched for a lie, "It's what they used to say about me at school. Delphini Diggory – there isn't a hole she couldn't dig herself into." Albus looked at her.
"They do all sorts with my name too," he said quietly. She looked at him. She looked at this kind, understanding, innocent boy. This boy who didn't see her for her past or her parents (and she suspected he wouldn't if he knew who they were), but for her, just her. She hated herself for what she was going to do to him. 
"Delphi," Amos called, interrupting her thoughts. She stepped off the stairs, then hesitated. She smiled at Albus, trying to give him some sympathy.
"We don't choose who we're related to," she sighed, thinking of her entire family, "Amos isn't just my patient, he's my uncle, it's part of the reason I took the job at Upper Flagly. But that's made it difficult. It's tough to live with people stuck in the past, isn't it?" she sighed again, trying to drag her thoughts away from Rodolphus.
"Delphi!" Amos called again. She ignored him as Albus spoke again.
"Upper Flagly?" he said.
"St Oswald's Home for Old Witches and Wizards," she explained, "Come and see us sometime. If you like," No, she thought. Don't come, don't give Rodolphus a chance to make me hurt you. Don't ever speak to me again. Please.
"DELPHI!" shouted Amos. She smiled apologetically and turned around to go down the stairs. She tripped and stumbled into the room, half-grinning, but her face hardened as she saw the emotion in both of their faces.
"Yes, Uncle?" she asked. Amos gestured to Harry.
"Meet the once-great Harry Potter, now a stone-cold Ministry man. I will leave you in peace, sir. If peace is the right word for it," he indicated his chair, "Delphi, my chair."
"Yes, Uncle," she pushed him out of the room, glancing over her shoulder to see Albus still sat on the stairs. She bit her lip.