Delyth Snape

The Dinner

Freds POV

---

"What are you looking at?" George asked, elbowing me sharply in the ribs.

I didn't answer, still staring across the Great Hall. My eyes were fixed on the Hufflepuff table, where everyone seemed to be clustered around Delyth. She was laughing, her head tilted back, the sound carrying over the low hum of conversation and clattering plates. It wasn't just her friends who were hanging on her every word. There were others,  all leaning in as if they didn't want to miss a single thing she said.

I watched the way she seemed to draw people in so effortlessly. They laughed at her jokes, sought out her attention, even from across the hall. She was always at the center, always the one everyone wanted to hear. It struck me, as it always did, how different she was from her father. How could someone so popular, so...bright, be Snape's daughter?

"Fred?" George nudged me again, and I snapped out of it, tearing my gaze away from Delyth.

"Nothing," I muttered, picking at my food. But George wasn't buying it.

"Oh, nothing, is it?" he grinned, following my line of sight. "That nothing wouldn't happen to be Delyth Snape, would it?"

I shot him a look. "Drop it."

George raised his hands in mock surrender, but he was still smirking. "Whatever you say, mate."

I wasn't about to get into it—not with George, and definitely not now. But that didn't stop my mind from drifting back. Delyth and I had been close, once. Best friends, even. We'd spent so many summers running around the Burrow, playing tricks on Percy, sneaking into Dad's shed to mess with Muggle junk. Until everything changed.

Her father hadn't liked me. No, hated me, actually. I was too reckless, too unpredictable—nothing like the kind of people he wanted Delyth around. And just like that, we were pulled apart. She stopped visiting, and even at Hogwarts, she kept her distance. I wasn't sure if that was her choice or Snape's influence, but it stung either way.

The laughter from the Hufflepuff table reached my ears again, and I clenched my fork, shaking the thoughts away. How could someone like her come from someone like him? Snape was all shadows and venom, cold and sharp like a blade. Delyth, though—she was warmth. Like spring after a long winter, or fresh-baked pastries filling the house with a sweet, welcoming smell. She made people feel comfortable, while he seemed to drain the air from any room he entered.

"Bit tense there, aren't you, Fred?" George said, his grin never faltering. "Maybe it's the Dementors."

I grunted in response, but at that moment, the conversation shifted back to the topic everyone had been talking about since the train ride.

"Can you believe they just let those Dementors on the train like that?" Lee Jordan said from across the table, shaking his head. "Who thought that was a good idea?"

"No one," George replied, his voice dropping slightly. "Saw Harry afterward. Poor kid looked like he'd just taken a Bludger to the head."

"They were searching for Sirius Black," I said, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. "That's why."

"Doesn't mean they should've let them near us, though," Ron chimed in, sliding into the seat beside George. "It was terrifying." His face was pale, and Hermione sat beside him, looking just as rattled.

"Harry fainted," Hermione added quietly. "We didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. One minute we're talking, and the next, the whole compartment felt like ice."

"Yeah, heard about that," George said, trying to sound casual, but I could tell it bothered him. "Lupin took care of it, though, didn't he?"

Harry, who had just joined us, nodded. "Yeah, he did. He cast a Patronus and got rid of the Dementor."

"A Patronus?" Lee's eyes widened. "Blimey, that's advanced magic."

I frowned. "Lupin? That must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, right? He was on the train with you lot?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Seemed alright, but a bit scruffy."

"I wonder what Snape thinks of him," Hermione mused. 

"I bet Snape's fuming," George said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying the thought. "Someone else gets the Defense job, and it's not him? Bet he's already hexed Lupin behind his back."

Hermione shot him a disapproving look. "That's not funny, George. Professor Snape is—"

"Dangerous?" George interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "We all know that, Hermione."

The conversation shifted again, but my attention had drifted back to Delyth. I hadn't spoken to her properly in years. There was always this invisible line between us, one I couldn't seem to cross anymore. But seeing her now, laughing with her friends ...I wondered if she ever thought about those summers at the Burrow. Or if she'd left it all behind, the same way we had to leave each other behind.

"Fred?"

I blinked, realizing everyone at the table was staring at me. "Huh?"

"I said," George repeated, "you reckon Sirius Black's really out to get Harry?"

"Yeah, probably," I muttered, not entirely focused. But honestly, it wasn't Black I was thinking about.---