Dahlia's Story by Draco

**Trigger Warning**: The following content may contain material that could be distressing or triggering for some individuals. It may include references to topics such as violence, abuse, harassment, mental illness, self-harm, substance use, etc. Please proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, consider stepping away or seeking support from a trusted source.

From the point of view of Draco Lucius Malfoy 

I wake up in cold sweat once again. I had that dam dream again—the dream of my past mistakes and that regretful promise. When will I be released of this curse that has been engraved on my skin? 

My wife Astoria is still asleep. I would have felt bad if I had woken her up because of my worries. I kiss her forehead gently; her beautiful face is as innocent as an angel's in this dark world of mine. I leave my room and walk through my quiet and vast manor. As I do, the memories of all the most beautiful and most horrible experiences of my life flash before my eyes as vividly as if I were reliving them. 

I remember my childhood—those days I looked up to my father with pride and respect, not resentment as I do now. I miss those days, but it doesn't matter now. I have lost allot, but I still have a family who loves me—my loving wife and my only son, Scorpious. I look in the direction of his room with a smile; he must be sleeping peacefully right now, just as I once did. I hope that never changes.

I walk out of my manner through the garden and into the old corner of the garden by the forest as I am lost in thought. The vivid images of all those Muggles and anti-Dark Lord supporters dead bodies that my aunt made me kill and bury flash before my eyes. I can hear their screams that still echo in my ears. I hate this place, but I can't leave it either; it is my punishment and my burden to carry the Malfoy name.

At last I reach that place, the grave with a simple, mossy tombstone with just a name written on it. The grave that still haunts me is where I buried my cousin. The only woman who came closest to becoming the person I would consider my sister Dahlia Black.

She was the illegitimate daughter of my aunt Bellatrix. From what I have heard from my mother, her father was Bellatrix's secret lover. She had given birth to Dahlia when she was young. I was never told who the father was but only that he had left her when he found out she was with a child.

Impossible as it seems It broke her heart, but what made it worse was finding out that her daughter was a squib.

She completely lost her mind with anger and hate and became the cold, evil woman that I knew her to be. As for Dahlia, she was sent to live with Muggles. I was surprised when I found out Bellatrix didn't kill her because the Bellatrix I knew would never hesitate to kill a baby wizard or Muggle. 

I didn't know about her and had never met her until that fateful day. The day when the Dark Lord called all his most trusted followers after the downfall of the Ministry of Magic.

He gathered us in this very manor. His horrible snake-like face lit with joy, he asked in his venomous, cold voice, "Dear friends, it is a good day, as I am sure you all are eager to celebrate our victory. But before that, I have an urgent matter—a task I am going to assign to all of you, for it will be time-consuming, and I want it to be done as soon as possible." He took a pause, and the room was filled by a silence thick with anticipation. All the death eaters were hungry for praise and wanted to be the ones to complete the task. 

"I must explain myself first, as most of you will find it hard to understand why this task is so important for me. As you have seen with your own eyes, death is no longer a worry for me, and we have also gotten rid of both that crooked nose idiot Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic. Soon we shall have Potter in our hands, and the little malfunction of our wands will be resolved soon.

Now that time is ripe, I want to start working on my biggest plan, my biggest achievement in the dark arts. As you all know, being reborn with Potter's blood has made me more powerful than before, but that is not enough, as I was still matched in power by that rotting idiot Dumbledore.

As much as I hate to admit it, it is the truth that out there in the world there might be someone who is equally powerful. I want to make sure that never happens again if I plan to purge the entire world of Mudbloods.

I want to not only increase my power but also to make sure that there is no other wizard in existence or in the future that could rival my power, and for that I have prepared a ritual. It took me years to gather all the ingredients, but it is worth it.

All that remains now is to find one missing ingredient. And whoever will fetch me this ingredient will be priced above all among my followers."

"I want you to find me a Squib born of pure blood parents and who will be young and healthy enough to bear my child."

"Master, I believe we heard wrong; did you say, My child?" Asked Macnair, voicing the question we were all afraid to ask.

"No, Macnair, you heard exactly right. I want her to bear my child," the dark lord declared.

There was an awkward silence where all of us death eaters looked at our master with open mouths and disbelieving expressions. Then we looked at each other to see if we were indeed awake. The mudblood-hating Lord Voldemort, who had killed and tortured thousands of mudbloods in the most excruciating way, who had never shown love for any human, who thought the feeling of love to be weak, useless, and an insult, was talking about having a child and with a squib no less. It was as if the sun had raised from the west.

Finally, my aunt, who looked angry for some reason, asked in a polite, loving voice that she used whenever she talked to him, "My Lord, if a child is what you need, I am sure there are more suitable pureblood witches that would be eager to bear you a child. I ------ If you will allow it, I will be most honoured to do this for you." She finished turning slightly red.

At this, some of the death eaters nearly snorted while most of us were trying our best to keep a straight face, and I swear that I saw a corner of Snape's mouth twitch into a smile.

The only person who looked angry was my aunt's husband Rodolphus Lestrange; his eyes were glaring at his wife, and his hands were clinched into tight fists.

Voldemort, on the other hand, gave a wide grin and a small laugh, which echoed in the weird silence. "My dear Bellatrix I am flattered by your words. You are right, there are more suitable pure blood witches for me, but this task requires a Squib; it is the part of the ritual I need to perform, and I want to make myself clear that this has nothing to do with those feelings you humans have of finding love or creating a family. Those ridiculous emotions are beneath me. I only need them as an ingredient. The mere existence of this child and its mother will serve only for one purpose, and that is to be part of this ritual, and once it's done, they will be disposed of, though I doubt there will be much left of them to dispose of."

At the final words, I chill went down my spin. I didn't know who this squib would be, but I felt pity for her. Because the cold, deadly look of joy that the dark lord had in his eyes made it clear he would not show mercy even to his own child.

"If that is the case, I think we are in luck, Bella dear." Said Rodolphus Lestrange joyfully.

"What do you mean?" asked the Bellatrix, perplexed.

"We have a pure blood squib in our family who is of perfect age and health for this task." Declared Rodolphus Lestrange smiling proudly. It was obvious he was doing this partially to spite Bellatrix.

"She will never agree to this," protested Bellatrix angrily.

"Bellatrix I never said the woman had to be willing for this ritual." Said Voldemort in a serious, quiet, and deadly voice.

"Tell me more, who is this woman you speak of?" he inquired, interested. 

"She is Bellatrix's illegitimate daughter. She lives among muggles; as a nun, I think she will be perfect for this task." Told Rodolphus Lestrange with an evil grin.

"Very well, bring the girl to me, and you will be rewarded for this service." Promised Voldemort, and with that, the meeting was over.

After that, the day came when Rodolphus Lestrange brought Dahlia to our house under the influence of Imperius curse. She was a young woman with her mother's long black curly hair and fair complexion, but her eyes were unlike Bellatrix; they were a bright sapphire blue and filled with joy and kindness. At first I didn't care what happened to her; she was under the Imperius curse and would feel nothing, I thought, but when the Dark Lord arrived, he said she needed to be conscious.

The moment the curse was lifted, she started screaming. The sight of Lord Voldemort frightened her, and she begged him not to hurt her, but the dark lord had just found a new thing to play with, so he forced her to drink some sort of potion, which caused her unbearable pain. Then he forced himself on her. 

I thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn't for almost a week he continued to do this. My family was ordered to keep her locked in a room, and we did. She never tried to escape but only wept silently or prayed in a corner. Every time she saw one of us, she begged us to let her go.

Finally, after a week, we found out that she was with a child. I thought it would be fine now; she can just sit in her room quietly, and I don't have to be bothered by her presence anymore. Little did I know it was only the beginning. Every day we had the duty to force feed her that disgusting potion. 

Voldemort had instructed that potion was invaluable; even a drop of it could not be wasted, so he intrusted us to feed it to her. My mother and I fed her that for 7 and a half months. It was painful to watch what it was doing to her body; she was becoming worse day by day. There were dark shadows under her eyes from all the crying. Her lips were dried and blue; her once healthy face and body were now dull and hollow-looking. Her hair was turning grey, and her tired eyes had red lines in them. She looked so thin it was as if she was made of just bones and no flesh.

We never talked to her, even though she begged and pleaded with us to let her go every chance she got, but slowly she began to lose her mind. She would smile, staring at the walls, and laugh and talk to herself or dance around her room, humming. There were moments where she would cry hysterically as if she were a mother mourning a child's death. She would sing a lullaby while cradling her belly and talking to it. 

There were moments where instead of begging or laughing, she would ask about her mother, Bellatrix; she asked if we were relatives. I told her yes. I told her I was her cousin and that my name was Draco. I wish I hadn't because after that she started calling me brother Draco, and she would refer to my mother as Aunt Sissy.

We tried threatening her first not to call us that, but she would just smile and say, "Why not? We are family after all, and family protects and loves each other." 

Months passed, and finally came the day she gave birth. It was night when the Malfoy Manor was filled with piercing screams. We didn't think she would survive giving birth, but she did, and so did the child. The baby was born. It was a girl with silver and blue hair and those beautiful sapphire blue eyes of her mother. 

The Dark Lord was beyond himself with happiness. Though he held up the child gladly right after her birth, he only examined her to see if she was healthy. Then he left; he didn't even bother to name her. We thought he would kill the mother and take the child with him, but he just said that they had to wait for the time to be right to perform the ritual. The child was a month early; they needed to wait. He said let the mother feed the child her milk so she can be healthy, and that was all.

I thought now finally there would be peace in this house, but once again I was wrong. When Bellatrix found out that Dahlia had survived, she made it her priority to torture her; she would let her feed the child, but after that, she used the Cruciatus Curse on Dahlia whenever my mother or I weren't around. 

One day when I went in her room to give her some chocolate frogs, I just thought she would like them. She once again begged me, but this time not for herself. This time she grabbed my hands and begged me to promise. 

"Promise that you will take care of my Delphini. Promise that you will keep her safe. Please, brother Draco, I am begging you. Please be her guardian, her godfather." She begged, her eyes filled with tears, and her voices hushed but persistent.

"Let go of me, women; I can't be seen here." I said angrily, trying to break free. 

"Just promise, and I will let you go. Please promise me; just say it once, even if you don't mean it." She pleaded again.

"Fine fine I promise I promise to keep her safe." I said just to free myself, and as I did, she let me go, but I felt as if I was bound by something, something stronger than magic.

"Thank you. Thank you, Draco," she said gratefully, smiling and relieved.

At the moment I didn't think much of it, thinking I didn't mean it. But I realize now what a fool I was. I told my mother about this, and she told me not to worry about a thing, but I still felt strange.

My mother noticed that I couldn't bear to see all this anymore. I was sick and wanted to leave, so she sent me to Hogwarts, thinking I would have peace there. A week later I found out in a letter sent by my mother that Dahlia had died.

I knew I pitied her, but I never thought I cared for her until I cried my heart out after reading that letter. I guess I always felt connected to her. We were both trapped in that house, spending every day fighting for our lives doing things we hated just to protect those we loved. The letter didn't say how she died, but I knew it was that bitch Bellatrix who did it. 

One month later, right two days before the ritual was supposed to be performed. Harry Potter arrived at Hogwarts, and the battle began. Voldemort lost, and my family was spared because of my mother. 

After the battle before the Ministry arrested us My mother went back to our manor. She said she had something important to do; little did I know she was getting rid of the child. When the ministry came, they found nothing. I had buried Dahlia here. They thought she was just some old relative who died. 

My mother never said what she did to the child. All I knew was that she had contacted Argos Noir the werewolf a few days later. And if what I have learned about werewolves during the time I worked with them is that they don't mind eating children whole. Still, I kept asking, but she wouldn't tell me; she would only say that the child has been taken care of.

A few years later, my mother developed dementia, and she hardly remembers anything; she doesn't even remember me sometimes. It pains me to see her like this. I guess it was the grief she felt after my father was taken to Azkaban. It doesn't help that I never went to see him. He was the one to drag us into this mess by joining sides with that monster. I know I am not better than him. I am also a coward, but I will never be able to forgive him.

I wish I could turn back the time and fix all my mistakes and bad decisions. I wish I had listened to Dumbledore when he offered to save me, or if I had taken Potter's hand as a friend when we first met, maybe then things would have been different.

I still wonder every day where that child is—if she is even alive or not. I don't know if I want to find her or not, whether I have the courage to take responsibility for her and fulfil my promise. I only know that the vow I made won't let me rest until I find her and make sure she is safe. 

But I shudder to think how this world will treat her if they find out she is the daughter of Lord Voldemort. The world already sees my family as criminals. There are rumours surrounding my son being the cursed child. Do I really want to risk being connected to that child? I don't know what I want, but I do wish that wherever she is, I hope she is safe and happy.

I place a flower on Dahlia's grave and turn back towards the house before saying, "Rest in peace, dear cousin; I will find her." 

I will find the daughter of Dahlia Black and Lord Voldemort, Delphini Riddle the Cursed Child.