Changes
Monday, October 3rd, 1994
Delfina found little solace in her existence. As she absentmindedly twisted her lengthy, lustrous, silver-blonde locks beneath her covers, engrossed in a tedious tome whose storyline had long eluded her, she couldn't recall a time when she harbored aspirations or goals. She lacked direction, purpose, a sense of self. Even her wand had lost its spark, failing to ignite the familiar lumos charm correctly, a frustration she couldn't pinpoint the duration of. LUMOS—the mere thought of it exasperated her. Delfina Malfoy was adrift. Yet, she found a measure of comfort in the simple act of toying with her hair.
Despite her efforts to distract herself, her mind continued to dwell on her tumultuous interactions with Potter and his companions, casualties of her father's political machinations. The memories weighed heavily on her conscience. The way Potter withdrew at her mere glance during lessons gnawed at her. Should she offer an apology? After three years of torment? She scoffed inwardly at the notion, convinced of Potter's unforgiving nature, as evidenced by Weasley's disdainful glares.
Turning the page with a sense of resignation and murmuring a subdued "Lumos", Delfina attempted to immerse herself in the narrative once more. But the intrigue of secret societies and romantic entanglements failed to captivate her. With a decisive “Nox”, she closed the book, weary from the mental exertion. Despite the protestations of her heart, fatigue consumed her. The sensation of her fingertips tracing her delicate features offered a fleeting sense of tranquility, momentarily quieting her tumultuous thoughts.
Even if the elixir's effects lingered until morning, the simple act of caressing her skin brought her a semblance of comfort. Its softness, its silkiness—a stark contrast to the turmoil within. It was enough to lull her into a fitful slumber.
Delfina Malfoy was a study in disarray. Yet, she resolved to endure another day without succumbing to despair.
-/-/-
She longed to fiddle with her hair during the history lecture.
Surveying the classroom, most of her classmates resembled the professor himself—lifeless. Hermione and Pansy remained alert, diligently jotting down notes or, surprisingly in Hermione's case, casting occasional distant glances at Delfina. When their eyes met, Hermione quickly redirected her gaze to her notes and the professor. Delfina scrutinized her surroundings, jotting down marginalia, anything not covered in the textbook.
Fortunately, Pansy was engrossed in her own note-taking for once. Though Delfina didn't mind sharing notes with the petite girl, she worried her own handwriting might prove illegible. Despite Parkinson's denial, Delfina saw through her facade. The two of them... she was grateful Pansy stood by her, even as she distanced herself from Crabbe, Goyle, Daphnee, and most of the other Slytherins.
They dined together in silence or, occasionally, engaged in light conversation. "How was your day?" "Potions was dreadful, as usual!" "How do you think you did on the Transfiguration essay?". It was satisfactory. Pleasant, even, to have... were they friends? acquaintances? She never broached the subject... well, no time like the present, even in one of the dullest classes.
Passing a note to Pansy, Delfina fixed her gaze on the professor, refusing to glance elsewhere. Not at Pansy, who likely perused the response, nor Hermione, whose stare seemed to sear through her robes, nor even the windows through which autumn breezes whispered. At this moment, the professor held her undivided attention. Was he still human? Delfina saw no reason why not. He retained memories and intelligence from his living days. Granted, he wasn't alive, but physi-
Pansy tapped her arm, once, then twice. Delfina shifted her focus to Pansy, noting a tremor in her lip. Her eyes flicked to the original note. Beneath it, Delfina read, "I'd like to think we're friends? Are you alright, Draco?" Delfina's shoulders relaxed—had they been tense?—with relief as she scribbled a response about being fine or something, even though she was anything but.
Delfina Malfoy was a mess. But at least she had a friend who could help her navigate through another day without crumbling.
-/-/-
DADA was swiftly becoming Delfina's favored class. She relished the intricate wand movements, the precise spells, and the theories surrounding each incantation. Professor Marchbanks, or Griselda as she preferred to be called, effortlessly elucidated complex hand placements and elucidated how a single miscast could disrupt a spell's nature. It all resonated with her, unlike Quirrell's disjointed lectures, Gilderoy's nonsensical rambles, and even Lupin's somewhat biased treatment of Slytherins compared to other houses—though she couldn't help but see it as a bit of karma when Snape did it.
"Can anyone explain why this gesture," Griselda demonstrated a counter-clockwise figure-eight motion with her wand, followed by a forward jab akin to a fencer's lunge, "would fail to produce the effects of 'Veritas Vinculum'?" She paused, then singled out a student with a sharp inhale behind her. "Yes, Malfoy?"
"Um, I believe it's due to the jab?" Malfoy tapped her foot nervously. The professor seemed satisfied with the answer, though she still sought further elucidation. "The motion shouldn't mimic a fencing strike. According to the texts, it's more of a subtle movement, like raising the wand to one's mouth and blowing the tip, or..."
"That's quite adequate, Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin. Well done. Yes, as Malfoy pointed out..."
Delfina nearly succumbed to nerves. With a relieved exhale, she glanced at Pansy, who gave her a reassuring thumbs-up. Behind her, she caught Hermione's gaze lingering on her before returning to the professor's instruction. It was odd—she had expected disapproval from Granger. Yet, from what Delfina gathered, Hermione was merely curious about her change in demeanor and the disappearance of the old Malfoy.
The one who remained silent during questions and, in potions class, responded with a mix of Gryffindor pride and cockiness. The one who didn't fidget with anxiety or, well, she couldn't play with her hair yet—it was still too short. The one who wielded slurs as weapons and blindly followed her father's commands like a soldier.
"...And what does the spell do, Miss Granger?" Delfina reengaged with the discussion.
"Yes, Griselda, the spell compels the user to speak a truth about any subject. It's a potent spell, making me wonder why veritaserum even exists..." Hermione's voice trailed off. Yet, like the treatment of the Malfoy heiress, the professor raised an eyebrow. Delfina squirmed slightly, not escaping the notice of the instructor.
"Yes, Malfoy? Anything to add?" Delfina nervously cleared her throat before nodding.
"Gr—Hermione raises a valid point. But, um—" Delfina turned toward the girl, feeling incapable of injecting intelligence into her words, "the spell's greatest flaw is also its strength. It compels someone to tell the truth, right?" Hermione nodded, prompting Delfina to continue, "But truth is subjective and can be interpreted differently." She turned back to the professor, seeking approval, "May I—"
"Yes, you may provide an example, Malfoy."
"Well, if you asked me my favorite food, I might say... bananas, which feels awkward to me, uh. However, under the spell, since bananas are a type of fruit, I could say something like... fruits or healthy foods like fruits, do you see what I mean?" Hermione shook her head slightly.
"So, if I understand correctly, the spell compels truth, but that truth isn't necessarily absolute? Is that right?" Hermione inquired. Delfina nodded hesitantly, glancing back at the professor, who beamed at them both.
"Exactly, Miss Granger. Five points to each of you. Now..."
The class proceeded smoothly thereafter, offering a brief reprieve from the realities of her life. Despite grappling with a wand that seemed to malfunction, her cheeks aglow like fireflies, Delfina found solace in the lesson's diversion.
"Just a moment, I need to speak with the professor," Hermione announced as the students began to pack away their belongings. Delfina seized the opportunity, eager to address her own concerns.
"Malfoy, commendable work today. Your assistance to a fellow student was commendable. How may I assist you?" The professor's words ignited a blush in Delfina, who averted her gaze, fidgeting with her toes.
"I... require a new wand," she confessed, her eyes fixed on the ground. Admitting defeat proved challenging, particularly when it contradicted her family's teachings. Despite her reservations about their beliefs, they lingered, complicating matters further.
"After three weeks, you've finally accepted my offer? Excellent. Another student, Mister Ronald Weasley, also requires a replacement. We were scheduled for this weekend, if you'd care to join us."
Delfina struggled to conceal her disappointment, though the professor seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil.
"Very well," she murmured. "Thank you. Apologies..."
"Two apologies in four words? Absurd, Malfoy. I'm pleased to see you moving forward. Is there anything else? I wouldn't want you to be late for your next class. We'll focus on reinforcing the truth spell on Wednesday."
As Delfina made her way to the exit, she couldn't ignore the warmth flooding her cheeks as Hermione avoided eye contact once more. What was Hermione's sudden interest in her?
Nonetheless, potions promised to be challenging, for Delfina Malfoy was in disarray.
-/-/-
Delfina's mind snapped back to reality as Snape relentlessly scrutinized Pansy and her potion, though it was more Pansy's creation than hers. She merely handled the ingredients and recited the instructions; even a squirrel could manage as much. Despite Snape's disdainful gaze, she couldn't fathom what she had done to incur it. She wasn't a Gryffindor, so why was he eyeing her as if she were Weasley?
As Snape perused the contents, he gave his customary approval but discreetly passed a small note to Malfoy. "Read this," he instructed before resuming his potion assessments. Delfina found solace in the lack of attention directed her way, except for Pansy's persistent gaze.
"What does it say?" Pansy inquired eagerly. Delfina's heart sank as she scanned the note.
'Meet me after class, unless you wish your parents to learn of your performance in my class. Professor Snape.'
The prospect of her parents chastising her was the last thing she needed. With a resigned sigh, she showed the note to Pansy, who frowned in concern.
"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling, Draco? I could have guided you through it step by step. Are you sure you're alright? You're usually at the top of the class, aren't you?" Pansy pressed, as Snape moved on to inspect the next cauldron, likely disappointed to find it belonged to Longbottom. Or perhaps he was secretly pleased.
"I'm fine. Just adjusting. Last year was..."
"Alright, I understand. But remember, you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you, always," Pansy emphasized, desperate to penetrate 'Draco's' thoughts. Delfina sighed and nodded, while Snape continued his verbal assaults. She didn't want to let Pansy down, but she couldn't help feeling overwhelmed.
And for Merlin's sake, would Hermione please stop staring at her!
-/-/-
"You transitioned from an E to a T. Your performance, Draco, is nothing short of dreadful," He sneered as the door closed behind him.
"I understand, I'm-"
"Stop the pretense. If you were genuinely remorseful, you would have rectified your mistakes at least once out of the nine occasions," Snape shook his head disapprovingly, "Miss Parkinson has exhibited exceptional performance this semester, surpassing you. You'd let a girl overshadow you? Have you completely lost your senses?"
"W-what?"
"I mentioned that Miss Parkinson should take over your responsibilities. Did my words escape you? Is that the problem? You're not paying attention to me?" Snape drawled, causing Delfina to squirm under his gaze.
"No, I'm alright. I'll manage."
"Indeed. You'll manage. Until you prove capable on your own, you will collaborate with Granger on your assignments until I deem it appropriate for you to work with Miss Parkinson."
Delfina was stunned.
"Her? Are you-"
"Granger, despite my... reservations about her performance, she is among the... Consider this as an incentive to excel if you wish to avoid working with her. Now, I assume you need to prepare for our next lesson, so I'll leave you to it."
Delfina began to walk away before Snape halted her with a call.
"If you persist on this path, your parents will learn of your lackluster efforts as swiftly as it takes to brew a Calming Draught. Do you understand its duration? You don't? Then I suggest you hasten." Snape waved the door open with his wand. Guided out, Delfina watched as the door closed with a resounding creak. Alone in the desolate corridors, she felt isolated, weary, shattered.
It didn't take long for Delfina's tears to cascade onto the floor in a tumultuous display of emotion.