Too Burnt Out to Fly

Falling

Delphi

Hogsmeade was quiet, a few people milling around the streets. It was cold and those who were out wore thick cloaks that blew in the wind. Delphi shivered – she was still wearing the dress that she had worn in Azkaban, torn and thin. She had no idea what she was going to do now – she had nowhere to go, no money, and she knew no one. She didn't want to go back to Rodolphus' house if she could avoid it because the memories it would dredge up would destroy her, piece by piece. She sighed and took out her wand, fingering it gently, almost scared of it. This was the wand that had killed, tortured, harmed. And she'd never forgive herself for letting it happen. Despite the insistence that she had just been a pawn. She knew that she should have, could have, fought harder. Yet, she hadn't. And now she was here, hated, afraid, broken. She walked slowly down the street, walking in time with the slow drip from some gutter or other. Rain began to patter down, and she hurried underneath an overhanging roof. She sunk down, cold, curled up in a ball, trying to stay warm. She looked at her wand again, wondering whether she would be able to conjure flames while keeping them under control, knowing full well that she had not attempted magic in five years.
"Incendio," she murmured, trying to make sure the fire didn't jet out of the end of the wand. It glowed for a moment and then returned to its normal shade of brown. Delphi sighed and put her wand back in her pocket. She yawned before realising she had not slept for over a day. Slowly, half-trying to keep herself awake for fear of nightmares, she began to drift to sleep.

There was someone standing in front of her when she woke, somehow still tired. Their wand was out, pointing down at her. She blinked at the bright, cold sunlight that had appeared, and sat up groggily. There was a tall, angry-looking man standing over her.
"Get up," he snapped. Delphi didn't move.
"Why?" she muttered. Some part of her wanted to fight back. After twenty-two years of being ignored, being shaped, being threatened, she wanted to fight back. She wanted to fight the overwhelming fear that coursed through her, "Why should I move?"
"Because you're sleeping in my spot," the man snapped again, "So, move."
"No," Delphi closed her eyes again. She groaned as something hard came flying into her stomach.
"Get up," the man demanded. Delphi curled up, trying to ignore the pain blossoming in her abdomen and draw breath. The man kicked her again, "I recognise you," he sneered, "Who are you?" Delphi didn't reply. He laughed and forced her to stand up. She leant against the wall, taking deep breaths, trying to calm everything rushing through her, "You father was a murderer, wasn't he?" the man whispered, "And you're just like him. You bitch."
"No," Delphi whispered, fear beginning to take over again, "No. I'm...I'm not like...not like them."
"Aren't you?" he smirked, "You murdered," he put his wand against hr throat and Delphi tried to struggle away from him, "Where you off to?" he pulled her back.
"I didn't–"
"Didn't do anything wrong?" the man raised his eyebrows.
"Didn't hurt them," Delphi finished quietly.
"Then where did the dead body come from?" he smirked, raising his fist. Delphi shrunk back.
"HEY!" someone yelled from across the street, "PETER! WHAT IS IT NOW?" Delphi's heart missed a beat – Albus was standing opposite them, somehow defending her. Delphi realised he probably didn't know it was her who stood there, otherwise he would not have stopped it.
"What?" Peter called back.
"Who 'crossed you' this time?" Albus asked, walking over. Delphi tried to shrink away.
"She was sleeping in my spot," Peter said irritably.
"Well," Albus said placentally, "If you took that job I keep offering you, you wouldn't need the spot. Anyway, who is it this time?" Peter stepped out the way, trying to reveal Delphi, but she bolted out, trying to hide her face, and raced down the road, "Wait!" Albus shouted after her. Delphi ignored him, running until she didn't know where she was anymore. She was terrified of it all; the memories, the pain, the scars that were embroidered on her skin, in her mind, after everything. She didn't want Albus to know she had been there, even though he could easily find out, she didn't want to crash into his world again.