Entry tags:

! log, 1998-january, x-character: daphne greengrass, x-character: delilah selwyn

WHO: Daphne Greengrass and Delilah Selwyn
WHAT: Sneaking off together.
WHEN: January 31, 2015 (backdated)
WHERE: Hogsmeade ; the Shrieking Shack + Wooded area
RATING: P FOR PURIST.
STATUS: COMPLETED (gdoc)

They were clear enough from the Three Broomsticks where she and Goyle had just been so appropriately interrupted by Daphne, that Delilah couldn’t help but burst out into laughter. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Goyle. Of course she did. They had been friends for nearly seven years, and she had even fancied him at one point. But he hadn’t ever noticed, and Delilah had given up because she just didn’t care all that much to try. It was nice not to have to sit through a whole awkward half-date with him, even if they’d hung out as mates before. Letting her guard down a bit, Delilah kept the slight smile on her face, so unusual from her normal expression, and walked closely beside Daphne, nudging her with a shoulder.

“Thanks for that. I don’t want to be a total slag and blow him off but I’m just not interested.” She shrugged. “Calliope wouldn’t let it go, she accused me of being gay.” She rolled her eyes, though only slightly. It was more of a test, even, maybe - because she gave Daphne a furtive glance, quickly turning her eyesight to the ground afterwards. “Anyway, she told me I wasn’t acting normal and dared me on the date.” She shrugged. Calliope would know she went with him. She just needed to make some stuff up about what happened after.

She walked on the path along to the Shrieking Shack. It was always good for a bit of quiet - once you’d seen it the first time you went to Hogsmeade, it sort of lost its appeal. Nothing happened there anymore, despite rumors that it was the most Haunted Place in Britain. When they got all the way there, Delilah found a broken log and sat down on it, pulling her cloak around her a little more tightly. It was snowing, which sort of made the whole thing beautiful, but also made her nose go pink and caught her shivering just slightly.

---

It’d been easy, really. Poor Goyle didn’t know what was happening, or if he did, he was bound to be a little wounded. They’d make it up to him later. Daphne smiled slightly at the thought, shooting a sly glance Delilah’s way. Accused. Wasn’t that the word, she mused? Like there was something wrong with it. As though commitment with men was the only way to further the pureblood lines. Honestly, it hurt more than Daphne cared to admit but she brushed it aside for now and gave a delicate shrug. She told herself that she didn’t care, that it was normal, that she was the one being unreasonable. Rare, considering they’d been dealing with Calliope for the better part of the last few days.

“What is normal anyway?” Daphne mused. “It’s not as though you were consorting with muggles. Honestly, the woman needs to get over her control freak tendencies.” It wasn’t often she gave dirt on Calliope. She considered the woman an asset, and as such, someone to be protected. But Delilah was her best friend. That, more than anything else, mattered most in this, right?

She followed Delilah along the path, taking in the quiet of the forest. She shot a glance around the forest, taking in any threats, and finally sat down next to Delilah. Her whole arm seemed to twitch. She wanted, so badly, to wrap it around Delilah, to hold her close, to make her warm. Instead, she folded her fingers together and stared out towards the snowy path in front of them. “I suspect Goyle already knew about Calliope’s antics.” She added. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him.”

---

Consorting with muggles. Delilah let out a half-hearted laugh at that, more like a snicker. “Yeah, definitely not that anyway.” She said, moving from the subject quickly. In fact, she had consorted with muggles before. She had been born from muggles, even. Not that she would ever tell anyone that, but it was true. She sat closely to Daphne, trying to feel the other girls’ warmth. It was weird - she never felt more comfortable than she did when she was around Daphne. It was like she didn’t have to pretend. Well, she didn’t have to pretend nearly as much as she did with everyone else.

“I’m not worried. Goyle’s a big boy, he can handle it. I don’t think he likes me anyway.” She’d fancied him for years, but now they were just glorious Beaters. They could crush anyone, if they were both on form. Which of course, Delilah always was. She’d even been practicing with him quite a bit more than usual to get them ready for the next match. And if that didn’t give him means and opportunity to express interest, she didn’t know what was. Not that she wanted the interest.

“Anyway, it’s not a big deal. I stopped fancying him in like, third year.” She shrugged her shoulders again, decidedly not looking at Daphne. She didn’t know why, but she felt as if she looked at her… Well, she didn’t know. It just felt weird, to be sitting so close, so alone. Their holiday had been spent sprawling over each other, talking about Hogwarts and muggles-hating and all sorts of things. Why was it so awkward now? To be so close?

---

Daphne would never understand the way girls would pine over boys. It wasn’t near what Delilah was doing, but there were just certain aspects of normal relationships that Daphne didn’t understand. The limitations and rules were something she was quite familiar with of course, but she never fully understood the meaning behind them. Still, she could fake it. She was quite good at it, too.

“He’s a good catch,” Daphne said, choosing her words carefully. “He is a pureblood after all, and he comes from a good family.” At least from the purist point of view. The status -- the taboo that comes from being a Death Eater family, that never quite leaves you. Still, with the right people, it can get you pretty far. Even Daphne had to admit that you couldn’t really go wrong. Traditionally, logically, Daphne could understand the logistics behind Delilah’s choice. She couldn’t help but wish things were slightly different, that she could be considered a good match to anyone not fitting into Goyle’s role.

“Not to mention rich.” She smiled a bit at that. There was something about money that always brought her smile to full bloom. Usually, this was in gaining her own riches but somehow that seemed to extend to Delilah as well. What would a girl normally say in this situation? Shouldn’t she focus on something other than wealth? Usually this was the bit she asked Delilah about. He’s not exactly my type. She imagined saying. I’m looking for something a little more…

Her gaze drifted over to Delilah and she took the girl in fully. The snow melting into her robes, the way their house scarf seemed to fit snugly against her neck. She swallowed. Pulled back. Don’t do anything stupid. She thought. Don’t ruin this.

“My father wants me to date him.” She admitted. “Says he’s a good influence.”

---

“Logically I know that.” She replied, nodding. “Pureblood, rich, like you said. Not unattractive, either. I mean I get it.” She said, sighing. But she couldn’t imagine herself with him, not forever. Or maybe she could, if he showed any interest. But these days, she felt her heart going a lot of different ways. It was confusing, she didn’t know what to do with it. Delilah had learned long ago not to trust her emotions, or the people around her, all that much. She’d been shoving all those feelings down and suppressing them for so long it was nearly impossible to understand what she was really feeling anymore.

She was surprised when Daphne mentioned her father wanting her to date Goyle. Not because it didn’t make sense, it really did. He had good influence and all, but somehow she just couldn’t imagine Daphne dating anyone. And for some reason, it caused her to flush. She felt her cheeks go red and it was like someone had slapped her or said something rude. She looked at Daphne, the accusation in her eyes just briefly before she fixed her features into a more placid sort of expression.

“Oh? Well then, I should have let you have that lunch with him.” She teased, nudging Daphne very gently in the ribs. She had to lean closer to do that, though, and when the job was over she didn’t exactly move away all that much. She sort of sat there, awkwardly, the feeling in her stomach placated by the closeness with Daphne, as if her mere proximity could make all that confusion and hurt go away.

---

It didn’t sit right. None of it did. Daphne stared up at the sky, letting her hands fall to the log they were sitting on. It wasn’t the right time. It would never be the right time, not really. But maybe… just maybe… She glanced at Delilah, reading the emotions on the other womans face.
“And steal him from you?” She joked, laughing softly. She looked down at Delilahs face, imaging her hand caressing that cheek, pulling Delilah close. Stop.

Yet, without warning, without thought, her hand reached up, brushing fingers across the skin of Delilah’s chin. Barely lingering. Her heart pounded. This wasn’t right. She was going to ruin everything. She should pull back. She should -- she should… her train of thought trailed away as she stared down at Delilah. Finally, she pulled her hand away, forced a smile.

“Goyle and I are just friends.” She murmured. “Nothing more. The fact that he -- my father -- wants to force it just means that we’ll continue to remain friends. A lot of arranged marriages turn out that way, you know.”

---

“Not possible. There’s nothing to be stolen.” She said, smiling. Up until she saw her hand lift, and felt her fingertips touch her chin. Every inch of her froze solid, she stopped breathing even. She didn’t know what to do but felt her heart pounding in her chest and her brain was certainly turning off. This wasn’t what she expected, not this. And she certainly didn’t expect to feel… good. The soft touch wasn’t repellant like she thought it would be, she wanted more. She couldn’t even speak for a full minute.

“...What? Yeah.” She agreed, not sure what she was immediately agreeing to. Her eyes were wide, half-fearful and she looked away, clearing her throat awkwardly. She didn’t know what to do, she wanted to act, but her brain was screaming at her not to. The touch meant nothing, right? Just like -- the way their hands had caressed during the Holidays, the way they slept in the same bed, sometimes a little too close. None of that meant anything.

“Arranged marriages are all total bollocks. I’m sure that’s what my parents are going to end up doing for me.” She said, shrugging. She tried to laugh with that, it was a joke because her parents weren’t going to do anything with her except disown her when she was old enough, disown her at whatever little thing she did that could give them a publicly acceptable way to disown their daughter without it ever coming to light that she wasn’t really theirs.

---

Daphne choked on her smile. She tried, and failed to bring her voice steady. It was hard to read the expression in Delilah’s eyes. Every part of her wanted to comfort Delilah, to make this better somehow. She stared at her hands, memorizing the lingering warmth of Delilah’s skin, her breath.

“Goyle would be nice.” She mused. He was violent, sure, but he’d always been nice to them. They could do a lot worse. “We could do a lot worse. Some of the horror stories... “ She shrugged. “I’m sorry, this was supposed to be fun, wasn’t it?” She turned to her friend and smiled. “And here we are talking about boys.” Or one in particular, really. “What do you say we do some exploring?” They were already out of bounds. How much trouble could they get into if they took a stroll?

---

“I always have fun with you.” She said back, worried that something had changed in that last second, as if Delilah was worried she had done something wrong. Standing up, Delilah motioned for Daphne to walk with her, not getting very far at all. In fact, she was content to stand arm-to-arm with Daphne, not sure where they would even end up going. She didn’t care, really. All the walking did was take them farther from the normal path, away from more people.

“Let’s not talk about boys at all, ever.” She said, laughing a little. “It’s like, I’m graduating from Hogwarts and all I’m supposed to do is get married or something.” She sighed, turning now - she stopped the two of them walking, standing right in front of Daphne. “You don’t really like him, do you?” She asked, frowning. She didn’t care, did she? But she had to know - for some reason, she really had to know if Daphne liked him. “Or, anyone?”

---

Daphne smiled again. She follow Delilah, content to hang back, but pleased to step inline beside her, wrapping their arms together. She leaned in a little, tempted to rest her head against Delilah’s shoulder.

She laughed. It was true. It was what they were born and bred for. School, for pureblood girls, was just away to find a husband.”Isn’t that truth?” She mused, amusement falling to a frown as Delilah stopped them. Had she done something wrong? Had she been to obvious? She fought the urge to shift. “No.” She admitted. “He’s nice, but he’s not --” She paused. Could she do it? “He’s not exactly my type.”

---

Delilah was so glad that Daphne said she didn’t like Goyle. The relief had to come from some competitive nature, right? Because she wanted Goyle? But deep down, Delilah knew that wasn’t true. She’d be jealous, sure, but not because she thought it was a competition. Because she didn’t want Daphne to like him. She wanted Daphne to herself, even if she didn’t want to admit it to anyone. Ever.

“What’s your type, then?” She asked, both genuinely curious and because she had some idle thoughts about finding every boy that even remotely resembled Daphne’s type and hexing them out of existence. She would do it, too. She enjoyed hexing enough, right? She took a slight step closer, standing off-balance on the rough terrain. She wasn’t looking at Daphne yet, though, not this close. She kept her eyes on the ground, waiting for the answer.

---

You. She wouldn’t say it. Not ever. There was too much to risk, not enough to gain. Could it be, though? She paused, the thoughts racing through her mind. No. She couldn’t. But if she did… Internally, she shook her head to try and clear the thoughts. Outwardly, she chewed her lip. “I …” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to be honest with you. You’re my best friend. You have been since we first came to this school. We don’t always get along, but I trust you.” Trust her not to out her, trust Delilah not to use this to hurt her. “I like women.” She said it quietly and it was out of place with her usual confidence. It made her feel small. “I always have.”

---

Daphne seemed to be going through some internal struggle. The biting of the lip gave it away, it was a trait they shared in common. With the nerves Daphne felt right now, it was a surprise she hadn’t gnawed a hole into her lip already. She waited and waited, only daring to look up just a bit when Daphne started to speak. What she heard was not at all what she expected. Her first, pure instinct was revulsion. This was everything she had been taught against - there was no acceptance for something like that, was there?

But there was something else - that revulsion was pushed away and there was this growing feeling of happiness, hope even. “Oh.” She said, because she couldn’t think of anything else. If this was anyone but Daphne, Delilah would have walked away, she would have said something awful and walked away. But this was Daphne. Her best friend. Her everything. She was utterly speechless, she had no knowledge of how to react to this, no clear idea of what she was supposed to do - because there was no protocol for this. She hadn’t been close like this to anyone, it was basically forbidden.

Without thinking, she took a small step back, unsure, she looked like she wanted to say something but she couldn’t find the words. “I - um.” She turned, and then stopped, stepping up closer to Daphne again, the confusion written all over her face. “What about… me?” She asked, almost inaudibly.

---

Daphne had already begun to steel herself away, to preapre for the loss of the one constant safety since she arrived in Hogwarts. She watched Delilah’s lips, the way they twisted and wrinkled with every inch of movement. She focused on that as she waited for the inevitable. She could never take this back. This secret. Not even Astoria knew it, not her parents, nobody. She knew what beacme of witches who aligned like that. They were sent away, to reform schools, taught the ways of being a pureblood so intently, that they never came out the same.

She waited for Delilah to run. Hoped and prayed she wouldn’t, prayed to merlin, prayed to the muggle god, anyone who would listen. She inhaled, and never quite exhaled until the moment the words seemed to tumble out of Delilah.

She looked up, the surprise clear on her face. “I…” She struggled for words. She was so warm, out here in the snow. Everything was so heated, so honed down to this moment. It was like her entire life had been waiting for this. “I like you a lot.” She said, and there should be a but somewhere in there. “I don’t want to ruin anything between us. I just, it felt right for you to know.”

---

It was so unlike Delilah to let go of her Purism beliefs, to forget about all she had been brought up to think and feel and just go with her heart. She desperately needed to know how Daphne felt, because for the last seven years she had been hiding her own feelings. She had always been attracted to her, always, but it had taken her a long time to realize that’s what it was. Because that wasn’t normal, was it? Not to her family, not to anyone she looked up to. It couldn’t be right, but it’s what she felt.

And it was such a relief to hear that, to hear that Daphne did like her. A lot. Delilah wasn’t very good with words, and she tried to say it back, tried to tell Daphne that she felt the same way, because she did. Even if she tried so hard not to, she did. But the words never left her mouth. She stared at Daphne, hard, like she was trying to figure her out. Figure this whole thing out like it would be easy.

Without really thinking, without knowing what else to do, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Daphne’s, in by far the sweetest and best kiss she had ever had, not that she had many. She kept her lips their, briefly, savoring the moment until her senses came back to her and she took a large step back, slapping her hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh.” Was all she could say.

---

It wasn’t easy. It never would be. There was a constant change, a constant mask that was traded up whenever things didn’t work out. She flushed, the long silence stretching between them. She didn’t want to run, but she’d expected Delilah too, and she didn’t know what to do now that Delilah wasn’t running. She waited for the words, waited for the hate to come pouring out of Delilah.

And yet. Delilah took her by surpise.
Delilah closed her eyes for a moment, basking in the kiss. In the closeness. She sank into it and let it warm her down to her toes. And when Delilah broke the kiss, her heart sank. Her eyes blinked open. She stared at her friend. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. The grin that showed teeth. It was almost feral in its excitement.

“That was --” She began breathlessly. “That was better than anything I expected, that’s for sure.”

---

This had to be a dream, didn’t it? Oh, how she had dreamed of this. Not exactly this, but so many dreams like it. She’d slept next to Daphne during the holiday and fell asleep into the most wonderful dreams. But she never thought they would be real, never let herself think for even a second anything in those dreams could become reality. Her breath was shallow and she was shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold.

“That - I mean.” She blushed furiously, covering her face with her hands. “Felt really good.” She admitted, not looking at her friend, her best friend. She stood there, both satisfied and moritifed at the same time before she took another step back. “But it was wrong, right?” She asked, as if she needed that sort of confirmation that what they had did was wrong. Because what just happened went against her whole belief system.

“It was wrong, no. I’m - I can’t - I mean. Fuck.” She said, turning around, looking away from Daphne. “This is wrong. I can’t like girls. I can’t like you like I do.”

---

Daphne wanted, more than anything to walk with Delilah again. To hold her hand, to lean back into that kiss. She watched her breath come to into the cold from the corner of her eyes. Anything was better than watching Delilah torment herself, the way Daphne had so many years ago. She’d had so much time to adjust to the notion.

Her cheeks flushed red and she stared at Delilah, tilting her head. “I know.” She said softly. There was no denying it. There was a reason girls like her were sent away. There was a reason that sort of thing didn’t happen out in the open.

“If you need time, I get it.” She began, forcing the words out. “It was hard for me to accept to. But maybe our parents weren’t right about everything. You don’t want to get married, right? Is that because you’ll be forced to be with someone you don’t love, or because you can’t marry a woman?”

---

Daphne was agreeing. She didn’t know if that helped or hurt the situation. She couldn’t even look at her. She didn’t even want to look at herself. She was disgusted, because she had enjoyed it so much. Because it was the best kiss she had ever had. Turning back to Daphne, she wanted to thank her, for giving her time, but she couldn’t. She didn’t need time, she needed to stop this.

“No. I don’t - that’s not it.” She said, flustered and frustrated. Daphne very rarely lost her cool. She was a violent sort of person, mean and a bully. But she stayed calm, detached through almost everything. This was more emotion than she thought she could even ever feel. Still shaking, she shook her head.

“No, I can’t - I don’t know the answer to that, Daph.” She said, raking her hands through her hair and looking everywhere but at Daphne. “I don’t even know if I like girls, okay? That’s - I can’t. I can’t like girls. We’re not like that. I mean, if you are that’s fine but…” She had too much already at stake, too many issues already. How could she be a purist, after this? Muggle born and into girls? Delilah felt vaguely like she was going to be sick.

“I promise, Daph, I won’t let this change our friendship. But we can’t do this.” She meant that to come out strong, firmly. But it wasn’t even remotely believable.

---

Daphne stumbled back a couple steps, as if the words physically hurt her. It was her turn to stare at the forest floor, to lace her fingers together. She bit at the spot on her lower lip, looking every bit like the teenager she was. She should never have let the secret out. She’d promised not to let it ruin her, let it run her life. And here, she’d ruined the best thing she had in this entire bloody school. There was no coming back from this. She knew better than that.

“Okay.” For the first time since she could remember, Daphne’s voice was small. Almost childlike. She got it. Honest to Merlin she did. They had a lot riding on their status and a large part of that took into account who you married, who you loved. There was a reason Daphne kept everything locked away so. “I just -- it’s been so long. I wanted you to know, that’s all. I don’t expect …” She swallowed the words. “I know what you must think of me. But Dali,” She implored the nickname they hadn’t used in years, “Please don’t tell anyone. You know what they do to people like me.”

---

She felt bad, awful. She had never felt such guilt about her beliefs before. Not like this, anyway. Sure, guilty because she was lying about them. But not because they had hurt someone before, like she had just hurt Daphne. She had just cast a series of very painful hexes on Kevin the other night, a Muggleborn in Slytherin just like her and had felt less guilty about that then the look on Daphne’s face that Delilah’s words had given her.

Delilah couldn’t let it be that way. Rushing forward, she took Daphne’s hands into hers, holding them there for a moment. It was safer, not a kiss, girls held hands all the time, right? She held her hands and nodded her head. “I promise, Daph, I won’t tell anyone.” She said, her voice quiet, comforting. Delilah wasn’t very good at this, comforting and caring. She had tried so hard to shut everyone out, and Daphne came around and totally ruined it. Not that Delilah minded all that much, because she had wanted it so bad. She wanted Daphne.

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.” She gave Daphne’s hands a little squeeze before she let go and took a step back, forcing a smile. “Let’s just forget this even happened, okay? We’re best friends, Daphne, this is… normal best friend stuff.” She was trying to make that true for herself, letting out a small sigh and turning away, heading back towards the trail they had come from. “Let’s go get warm, because I’m bloody dying of frostbite out here, and just - forget it, okay? Please?”

---

It was odd. Usually, it was the other way around. Daphne was the protector, the one who held hands. When she looked at Delilah, her eyes were shining. Not tears, she told herself, just wet. Delilah could do a lot of damage with this knowledge, and any other Slytherin might’ve taken the chance. That was what she feared would happen here.

She smiled at Delilah’s words and it was watery. She didn’t want to forget, didn’t want to go back. Telling Delilah about this… it’d been liberating. Going quiet again, forgetting about the nightmare that was coming out felt like walking quietly into a cage. Still, she’d do it. If it prevented her from losing anything she’d do it.

“Okay,” She said, voice becoming stronger, the emotions filing away. She’d always been good at that. She followed Delilah, tentative at first but slowly gaining confidence. She reached out, touching the back of Delilah’s wrist gently. “Delilah?” She began. “Thank you.”

---

It killed Delilah to see Daphne that way. She’d never want to hurt her, and she did. It was frustrating, this was all frustrating. She wished she had never grown up here, never even became a Witch sometimes. It was stupid, because she couldn’t change it, but it would alleviate so many of her problems.

She knew, from her own demons, how difficult this must have been for Daphne. To tell her. She shouldn’t have pushed so hard, shouldn’t have wanted to know so badly - but she did. There was still part of her that knew she liked Daphne, too, but she didn’t know if she could ever go there. If she could ever be what Daphne wanted or needed, because it felt so… wrong. In her head, at least.

As her wrist was taken hold of, so gently, she felt her stomach twist back up into knots. She looked at Daphne, pain mirrored in her own eyes, and smiled back at her. “No problem.” She replied, brushing off the gratitude. She wanted, at least, for Daphne to know she would never tell her secret.

---