#delphini

He does control the Dementors by then, but perhaps he was traumatised by losing his second-best Death Eater, who had been kissed by a Dementor only a year earlier. What if the Aurors ordered a Dementor to give Bellatrix the Kiss without a trial, just as they did to Barty?

A year later, he doesn’t send Bellatrix to infiltrate Hogwarts. Instead, he sends only lowly Death Eaters such as the Carrows, Rowle, Greyback, and Gibbon, who ends up being killed because of Rowle’s stupidity.

Why? Because Voldemort doesn’t think for a second that Draco Malfoy will actually manage to kill Dumbledore. He expects failure. He expects losses.

He sends his least valuable Death Eaters to Hogwarts. If they get arrested, he already knows he’ll free them a few weeks later along with the others captured at the Ministry. And if a Dementor kisses one of them in the meantime, he doesn’t care in the slightest. If one of them dies, like Gibbon, that’s no great loss either.

So, of course, he doesn’t send Bellatrix on such a risky and ultimately farcical mission.

Now, after coming face to face with Bellatrix’s mortality (he’s immortal, yes, but she isn’t), and knowing she’s his last and best lieutenant, it’s actually natural that he’d want a child with her to replace her (it’s a very utilitarian vision of Bellatrix, but this is how things make sense in his brain to keep control on his emotions).

A child he’d raise with Bellatrix to ensure her loyalty.

And why should the child be his rather than Rodolphus’s? Because there’s probably a great deal of delusion involved too. Delphini becomes a new obsession, a new project, one that allows him to avoid thinking about Bellatrix’s eventual death. Delphini is a new kind of Horcrux, now that he’s completed his oldest, most important task and ambition. He’s finally immortal… now what?

Delphini is his way of coping with his abandonment issues. He won’t lose Bellatrix through betrayal, but he will lose her to death. And as we know, losing her will unravel him to the point that his magic explodes with the force of a bomb. That uncontrolled surge of magic only shows that both his fear of her death and his attachment to her are completely repressed and largely unconscious.

JKR: No, never. If he had, he couldn’t possibly be what he is.

The fact that people bring up these quotes as some sort of gotcha only shows how dumb they are.

Yes, she said this, and yet, the way she wrote Voldemort behaving towards Bellatrix can only be explained by attachment, as Christopher E. Bell notes in his essay 'Riddle Me This: The Moral Disengagement of Lord Voldemort'.

Usefulness cannot logically explain it, especially when you consider Bellatrix was more of a liability than useful, in the end, and when you compare his behaviour towards her to his behaviour towards other useful Death Eaters and Nagini. It's certainly not a good explanation considering his behaviour towards her was irrational and the primary source for the reading that Voldemort felt nothing for anyone is Dumbledore, a character Rowling demonstrates is explicitly and repeatedly wrong about Voldemort's inner life.

Clearly, this quote and what JKR wrote exist at the same time, so this isn't a contradiction, but it's easy for certain people to use it to dismiss evidence. A dualistic, simplistic, and superficial reading might take her words at face value but that won't account for all the evidence within the text itself that shows a clear attachment, so instead of subscribing to the simplistic reading, ask yourself what she means by this deliberate contradiction.

When Rowling says 'he never loved,' she's not saying 'he has no attachments, no one matters to him, and he's equally indifferent to everyone.' She's saying he can't love in the way we understand healthy, selfless, sacrificial love. He can't love like Lily loved Harry, but the TEXT shows he clearly has something with Bellatrix that he doesn't have with anyone else, which it shows through his extreme emotional reactions towards her that he has for nobody else, ever. She is clearly the person who's most emotionally important to him, the one human he feels most intensely towards.

His feelings for Bellatrix were introduced even before her own love for him! They share a unique intimacy and she makes him extremely happy. He is strategically completely irrational when it comes to her, as the Ministry rescue shows, which came at an enormous cost. He is jealous of her loyalty to her own family and deliberately isolates her from them, binding her more closely to himself through classic patterns of emotional manipulation, which reveals a very dark aspect of the relationship alongside his own need for her love. He trusts her with his soul through a Horcrux in her vault, which is different from the diary which was intended as a weapon. His reaction to her death is the most intense emotional reaction he ever has and it's not at all strategic. The sexual dimension is, of course, obvious. He is clearly attracted to her and they have a daughter the author not only approved but was planning long before Cursed Child, as shown by the foreshadowing in HBP, the Bellatrix-Tonks subplot, and the hieros gamos symbolism in Deathly Hallows. Rowling calls him her male counterpart, essentially her partner. The relationship is shown through literary techniques such as parallelism with the relationship of Voldemort's narrative mirror, and the allegory of their relationship in Tales of Beedle the Bard. Rowling even uses some classic romance tropes, and the Second Wizarding War is structurally bookended by Voldemort's emotional responses to Bellatrix's peril or loss. The relationship demonstrates Rowling's signature use of ring composition, which literary scholar John Granger has identified as a foundational element of her work. Rowling has, in multiple interviews, compared Bellatrix and Voldemort's relationship to Dumbledore and Grindelwald's, stating they have similar themes and motifs, and Grindeldore is another ship she hinted at in the books but wasn't explicit about because it wasn't relevant to Harry's story.

So the question isn't if this qualifies as capital-L Love but what IS this, and why does it exist only with her?

This is where Rowling's 'he never loved anyone' and 'they're counterparts' and the textual evidence all reconcile. He can't love in a healthy way, but he has the closest thing to attachment/connection that someone with his psychology can manage, and it's with Bellatrix. It's not selfless or sacrificial but consuming and possessive (he isolates her from her family, humiliates her in the meeting, has a great deal of power over her) and based on her meeting needs he won't acknowledge he has. It's whatever warped version of intimacy and dependence someone who's split his soul can experience, but it's there and it's unique to her, and it matters enough to provoke reactions we see nowhere else in the series.

A sophisticated reading would reconcile the apparent contradiction.

Notice how she says he couldn't possibly be what he is if he'd loved anyone? Clearly, that refers to a sort of love that's redemptive, which is how love is defined in the series:

“Powerful infatuations can be induced by the skilful potioneer, but never yet has anyone managed to create the truly unbreakable, eternal, unconditional attachment that alone can be called Love.” - Tales of Beedle the Bard

This quote also supports the interpretation that she views love as redemptive:

MA: Oh, here’s one [from our forums] that I’ve really got to ask you. Has Snape ever been loved by anyone?

JKR: Yes, he has, which in some ways makes him more culpable even than Voldemort, who never has. Okay, one more each!

Here she says Voldemort has never been loved by anyone, even though he was loved by Bellatrix. She hesitated to describe her feelings for Voldemort as 'love' in a subsequent interview, but ultimately chose to call it that. Voldemort was the corrupting force in Bellatrix's life and it was precisely through his feelings for her, his acceptance of her darkness, that she was corrupted, so it could never be love in JKR's eyes based on that alone. Bellatrix, on the other hand, was not a major corrupting force in Voldemort's life.

So yes, he never Loved anyone but he loved Bellatrix and was extremely attached to her. Both statements are true, but they're describing different things. One is about what he's incapable of (Lily's kind of love, the magic that defeated him) and the other is about what he is capable of (attachment, need, whatever connection his fractured psyche allows).

Bellatrix is the closest thing to the bandage, the person who offers what his damaged psyche can actually accept: unconditional acceptance of his darkness, witnessing of his vulnerability, and mirroring of his nature.

Simple minds say 'but Rowling said he can't love!' and when they see the text showing unique reactions to Bellatrix, they conclude there is a contradiction and one must be wrong, but a sophisticated mind would ask what 'love' even means here and What IS he capable of. How do these statements reconcile when we understand the terms properly?

Nobody is claiming Voldemort loves Bellatrix in some Disney fairytale sense and I'm not even claiming it's healthy, but clearly, he has the capacity for attachment that exists within his psychological limitations and that attachment is uniquely directed at her.

That reading is nuanced and accounts for all the evidence without requiring us to dismiss either the authorial statement OR the textual moments.

When we apply Occam's Razor to this relationship, something interesting emerges. The usefulness argument, despite seeming simpler on the surface, actually requires an absurd amount of mental gymnastics to account for all the evidence. It requires dozens of separate ad hoc explanations to explain away each piece of differential treatment as somehow strategic or coincidental and still ends up with holes.

***A dear friend asked on discord if I have some EMD writing left, so here it is.***

----

Harry hadn’t stopped screaming since he entered the kitchen; he’s furious. It’s been a long time since he exploded in such righteous anger.

Cheeks red, jaws set, and those damned eyes of his glinting. Why, it’s almost like before, back in the war. Of course, now at least he can appear somewhat intimidating, what with the size of him. He doesn’t intimidate Voldemort, but it is easy to imagine he could make a random individual cower. Voldemort would like to see Harry going off like this on some pesky journalists or one of his stalker fans. It would be entertaining.

As it is, it’s not entertaining at the moment. It irritates Voldemort to be screamed at.

One flick of his wrist, and he could silence Harry. Another flick and he can send him crashing into the wall. To resist temptation, he drums his fingers on the table, reaches inside to find patience. It’s getting harder and harder to be patient these days. He had to suffer it for a while, but now he’s back in power. A Minister, not a war lord, yet people learned not to trifle with him, not to glare at him, not to talk back.

Even Harry learned, as the years passed by. He minded his business, and he let Voldemort be. Yet it’s not worth the trouble to put him in his place, now. He can already imagine the dramatics that would follow. Harry would break again, and Voldemort will either have to lock him in an attic, never to be allowed in public, or he’d have to put in the effort to build him back up, and he certainly lacks the patience for that. Hermione would be insufferable about it. Delphini would cry.

Harry must be aware of these unpleasant outcomes, too, because while he screams, he doesn’t dare do more than that. He cries, too, tears of pain and frustration and pure despair. That improves Voldemort’s mood a tad. Harry always looks good when he’s crying. “I asked for one thing!” his voice breaks, rough. “One thing! You have everything, and I said nothing- you use me, you use my name, you- I only asked for one thing.”

What a lie. Harry might not verbally ask for much, but those pitiful eyes of his ask plenty, and Voldemort gives it to him. The ungrateful brat.

“And you couldn’t let me have it! You’re a monster!”

Show him, a voice begs, a voice that was dormant for so long, but it’s waking up lately. Show him the monster. Show him how patient you’d been with him all these years. Show him how it could have been.

Voldemort ignores it. His fingers curl around the table, momentarily, because just drumming them isn’t enough anymore, he itches for his wand, but then the crisis is avoided, and he is in control, he won’t snap. He does stand, because it’s safe to do it, his temper is in check, and Harry tired himself out with his tantrum. “You asked for her life,” Voldemort reminds him. “She is alive.” Moly Weasley lives. Thought it seems a misfortune befell her earlier that day. Well earned. Delicious revenge. Harry, sadly, is not the type to enjoy the poetic justice, the mastery in this delivery of punishment.

She lives, like he wanted, she isn’t even in pain, but the score was settled. Fleetingly, he wonders if Bella is happy, if she laughs gleefully in the afterlife. Perhaps not- Bella was never one for poetry, for subtlety. She got her vengeance in blood and screams. Harry stares at him, shaking his head. “I hate you,” he whispers. Voldemort did not want to break him, but he broke, anyway. So fragile, this boy of his, despite his impressive muscles, he shatters like glass. “Nothing new,” Voldemort replies, and walks out of the kitchen.

As soon as he reaches the garden, he feels his anger rising, now that he isn’t focused on not hurting Harry until he explodes into a pile of blood and bones. He gets angrier and angrier with every step. He feels as impotent as Harry must feel. No matter how mad the boy was, how obviously hurting, he did not even think to draw his wand at Voldemort, or punch him, like he once did. He would have- for Molly fucking Weasley, he would have. Harry has few limits, but the Weasleys are one. Harry would crash and burn with them, for them, the world be damned. He didn’t, however, because he must know, deep down, that it wasn’t Voldemort. But he can’t admit it to himself, not consciously. Voldemort is a convenient scapegoat. Voldemort is a monster, rotten and evil, and it’s easier for Harry this way. Easier than the truth.

He Apparates to Lestrange Manor, and he thinks of Bella again. How odd- he hadn’t truly thought of her in years, but now he feels her around; when he walks to Lestrange Manor, is feels like before, like when he’d walk this path and knew he’d find her and Rodolphus inside. He doesn’t, of course. He finds a copy of her, instead. Bella left him copies of herself, echoes that remain to dwell the earth in her absence. Voldemort walks past Andromeda, strolls through the Manor, until he finds Rodolphus’ copy.

Voldemort knows Rabastan is guilty as soon as he lays eyes on him. That stiff posture, the fear in his eyes, even if he keeps his chin up, defiant. “Your wand,” he snarls. Andromeda followed him, she’s frowning, confused, asking what the matter is. The matter is that Voldemort was disobeyed. “Leave,” Rabastan begs her. “Leave,” Voldemort snarls at her. Andromeda is a cheaper copy of Bella, in all senses. Tamer, sadder, broken. But wiser. She leaves.

Rabastan gives up ‘his’ wand. It’s not his, of course, just like Voldemort suspected. He knew, as Harry was screeching, as Voldemort sat there trying not to snap, he was thinking how all this could have been accomplished. Delphini is at Hogwarts, after all. Impossible for her to also be at the Burrow. Unless she Apparated there. But she wouldn’t risk doing all that with her wand. It became quite obvious who would have given her a wand. “It had to be done,” Rabastan dares to speak. “You moved on, but I can’t; not until justice was served. You moved on, but Delphi couldn’t.” Delphini is a far better copy of Bella, compared to Andromeda. But, as Voldemort feared- you do not fear!- as Voldemort suspected, she is no true copy of her mother. Oh, she’s her spitting image, she has some Black traits in her personality, but no- Delphi is his copy. The anger reaches its peak. Voldemort always treasured Rabastan over most others, awarded him more leeway than most others. But Rabastan is no Harry, he’s no Delphini, and Voldemort snaps.

He reminds Rabastan who he serves, whose mark is on his arm. Useless, of course. Rabastan was never one to cow for pain, nor learn from it. Yet his pain serves to soothe some of Voldemort’s anger, lets him take it out on him. Another convenient scapegoat.

(-)

She does walk like Bella, a confident, defiant tilt to her hips. She walks loudly, proudly, as if used to have others look at her in awe, covet her. She brought her heels, even if the path to the Forbidden Forest is not exactly best suited for heels. Whenever she angers him, she knows to make herself look even more like her mother.

Once, when he searched her mind, he saw Rodolphus teaching her this, on the night before he left her at Rowle’s. “It’s best if you look like her,” he told her, advising her to let her hair free, to wear the dresses Bella favoured. “He treasured her above all others, and, in time, I hope he’ll treasure you, too.” She doesn’t stop at a respectable distance, like Bella would have done when she knew she messed up, when she angered him. No. Delphini comes close, closer than anyone dares.

She’s taller than Bella already, and the heels almost bring her up to his chin. She looks up, and those are his eyes, that is his glare, his defiance, his stubbornness. “What potion did you give her?” “My own invention,” Delphini says, and pride flushes stronger on her face. “They won’t detect it.” “And if they do, then what is the problem, no?” Voldemort asks. “Who is going to suspect a perfect school girl? And if they do suspect her, who is going to blame the Minister’s daughter? Who would dare arrest her?” Delphini shrugs.

“If you plan on using my influence to stay out of trouble, if you know you can easily fall back on me to protect you, then you should discuss things with me before you do them.” “Why bother,” she spits. “You would have said ‘no’. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He should have tortured Rabastan more, because not all the anger is out of his system. Furry comes back hot, coursing through his veins, going to his head. “Ask for forgiveness, then,” he hisses, and he takes the step that separated them, towers over her. If she wants to play these games, he’ll play them. She will lose. It’s time for her to learn to lose- Harry spoiled her, far too much. He ignored Voldemort’s warnings that Delphini shouldn’t get away with everything she does, that he should push back, whenever she tests them.

As always, Harry’s kind, tolerant heart, explodes spectacularly in his face.

Delphini doesn’t cower, not truly, but he can detect the current of fear that passes through her. Strangely, it does nothing to improve his mood. Terrifying people usually soothes his fury, but now it just taints it with an unknowable feeling. “I thought you loved Harry,” he says, softly.

“I do!” Her fingers curl into fists at her side. Her neck is bent back uncomfortably, trying to keep Voldemort’s gaze. “She’s alive, isn’t she? Like he asked. She loves Harry, didn’t forget him, and she’ll no doubt dote over him, like a mother. In fact, now that she only remembers loving him, she’ll love him even more! I took nothing from Harry! He can have his pretend mummy! I only took away the memories of all her living children! It’s only fair!”

Delphini’s voice gets louder. Defensive. “She stole my mother from me! So it’s only fair she forgets all the beautiful memories she has with her children, memories she didn’t let me form with my mother. It’s only fair she will only remember her dead son, like I have to remember my dead mother, every time I step foot into the Great Hall, where that harpy took her from me. From us! You lost her, too! And now Molly Weasley cannot remember her husband, either! It’s fair, it is!”

It is beautiful, he agrees. It is poetic and it is just. It is perfect. However.

“You knew he’ll blame me for it; you understand he’s devastated; you understand how he’ll avoid me now, how he’ll suffer, how he’ll moan and whine at me for months on end, start drinking again, retreat into his spare bedroom and rot there for who knows how long. You are perfectly aware Hermione will blame me, too. That it could potentially harm my work. You knew this would affect me. And you did it anyway.” He cups Delphini’s face, and she finally flinches, though she doesn’t draw back.

So beautiful, this child. So intelligent. She loves Voldemort, understands him like no other. His perfect girl. If Voldemort would have ever wanted a daughter, if he’d have been given the chance to make her, build her from scratch- this is what he’d have imagined. Only, he still wishes she would have been more like Bella, or Rodolphus, or Harry; it would have been easier. For him, and for her. Alas, she is not like them. She is like him.

“She deserves it,” Delphini insists. “She hurt me!” Ever her tears are perfect, pretty shapes, clear, trailing down her cheeks. “That never works with me, Delphini,” he reminds her, using his thumb to brush one tear away. “I know!” she hisses. “Nothing works with you! That’s why I didn’t ask! Because you give Harry everything he asks, you are so attentive to provide him with what he needs, but you never care about what I want. What I need. I asked you to punish her, you promised me, remember? When I first met Ron. You promised me! But then Harry asked you to spare her, and you did what he wanted. You forgot about me, about my pain-“

let’s talk about an orphan…

Whose parents were killed while they were a baby

Whose parents were killed by their greatest enemy/enemies, who opposed their views of the world greatly

Who had no more living relatives but aunt(s) and a cousin

Who grew up in an abusive household

Who was adopted by someone who really couldn’t care less about their wellbeing

Whose caretaker(s) were forced by outside circumstances to take care of them

Who, for the longest, did not know about their significant parentage

Who had a lot of expectations placed on them for said parentage

Who was told - when they were older - about a significant trait of themselves by strangers

Who was connected to a prophecy

Who was possessed of an ancient magic, a magic associated with the dark (Parseltongue)

Who longed painfully for a parental figure, but did not have the best of luck with those presenting themselves as potential replacement parents

Who formed a meaningful relationship with a winged animal

…dear HP fandom…am I talking about Harry Potter…