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In his dream Albus was in Azkaban. It was cold and damp, but not from the Dementors' aura. In fact, there doesn't seem to be a Dementor in sight. He walked down the halls, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor. Finally he stopped before the prisoner he was looking for. Her hair, once a bright silver and blue, was now a dull grey, her face frightfully thin and gaunt. But he still knew her. Will always know her.
"Delphi." Albus said quietly. The witch's head snapped up. She noticed him, and her lips curled in a sneer.
"Albus Severus Potter. Have you come here to gloat? To mock?"
Albus pursed his lips. "I liked you, you know? I really thought I found a friend aside from Scorpius."
Delphi laughed. "Children. So gullible. So easy to manipulate."
"Why?" Albus demanded. "Why trick everyone? Why raise your father?"
Delphi lunged for the cell bars, sending Albus stumbling back.
"Because," she hissed, "he is the rightful ruler. Half-bloods and Mudbloods have no place in this world. We were supposed to rule! I was supposed to sit beside him! The Augurey to The Dark Lord. He's the one wizardkind should respect, not your father! HIM!"
Albus looked at her, face unreadable. "If only you weren't who you were."
With that he walked away.
"What-what are you doing? Get back here! I'm talking to you, Albus Severus Potter!" Delphi shrieked, pulling at the bars. "I'm talking to you!"
But Albus just continued walking away.
"I never meant to kill him, you know." Delphi then said, and Albus froze.
"What did you say?" He growled, stalking back to Delphi's cell. Delphi grinned.
"You know who. I never meant to kill him. He just got in the way-!" Delphi yelped as Albus grabbed her, yanking her against the cell bars.
"If I've had my way," Albus snarled, "You wouldn't even be here. You would've been stuck in 1981, your rotting corpse stuffed into some small, cramped space in Godic's Hollow."
Delphi smirked. "There it is. That Slytherin side of you. We're not so different, you and I.
Albus shook his head. "I'm nothing like you. Your father, however...you are so like him. A terror and a threat to wizardkind, but a failure. Ultimately a failure. The only difference is that your father had the easy way out, so to speak. You? You'll rot here, slowly losing your mind like your mother."
Delphi's eyes flashed, and she yanked at the bars again.
"I'm not a failure!" She screamed. "I'm not! I'm the Augurey! I was destined for greatness! To rule! BOW BEFORE ME!"
Her screams turned to laughter, repeating "bow before me" over and over until she collapsed on the floor, sobbing. Albus pursed his lips.
"Goodbye, Delphi."
Albus's eyes snapped open, breathing heavily. He's been dreaming of her as of late. Too frequently. He went to get a parchment and a quill, going to the living room.
"Lumos." He murmured, and rested his wand against the stand on his table. the light coming from the tip providing some illumination. Taking a deep breath, Albus began.
Dear Delphi,
You’ll never read this.
I suppose that’s the only reason I can write it.
I don’t even know why I’m doing this — maybe I need to empty my head, or maybe I’m just tired of pretending none of it mattered. Maybe, somewhere deep down, a part of me still believes there was someone else beneath all that madness. Someone who could have been something different, something better.
I used to think I saw that person.
In the way you listened.
In the way you looked like you understood me in ways no one else did.
But then I saw who you really were.
And still… part of me wonders.
What if you hadn’t been born into that legacy?
What if your life had been different?
What if we’d stayed friends — really friends — and not... whatever that twisted thing between us was?
I’m not naïve anymore. I know wishing doesn’t change the past. I know people aren’t made better by what-ifs. You proved that.
And yet, I pity you.
I hate that I do. But I do.
Because in the end, you wanted something that no one could give you: a future shaped by someone else’s past.
And you were never going to win. Not really.
You had so much power — and you used it to become a shadow.
You could’ve been more.
You could’ve been.
But you chose to disappear behind a name that wasn’t yours, a prophecy that didn’t matter, and a man who never loved anyone — not even you.
I just hope — if hope means anything anymore — that in the silence, in the cold and the dark, some part of you remembers that there was once someone who almost believed in you.
Albus
Albus read the letter. Then read it again. Finally he scoffed, shaking his head. Crumpling the letter, he threw it to the fireplace, the parchment burning along with the last of his memories of her.