Chapter 1: Angst, Thy Name is Lillith
The Seven Deadly Sues
Lillith Persephone Delavan was never a popular girl at her school. In fact, she didn't even have any friends, the poor thing—everyone always made fun of her because she seemed to constantly drench herself in sorrow. But they didn't know her secret…she had a horrible childhood. Actually, she didn't have a childhood; it had been ripped away by the claws of…her family.
It just so happened that Mrs. Delavan was an alcoholic and a bible-thumper, incidentally. Her "father" got a sex-change when she was nine, and she could never talk to her older sister because all she cared about was her grades, her friends, world peace, and humanity, that bitch. And to top it all off, her family was resident in a city that loved and worshipped God with all their hearts and went to church because they just had to be happy and have fulfillment in their lives. Can you believe that? How could someone detach themselves so far from self-indulgence?
Lillith was thrilled the day she got her letter from Hogwarts--in fact she even flipped off the entire city before she left on the train. Then she realized that she had to come back every summer. So for five years, on it went. As where our story begins…
Lillith was always easy to differentiate from everyone else at Hogwarts. It could be her beautiful, long, flowing clarinet-colored hair that reached her waist and complimented her bed sheet skin and chlorine pool eyes. Perhaps it was the brown stains on her bed sheet skin referred to as "freckles". Or it could've been the scars shaped like Lucky Charms all over her left forearm. But it just might be the fact that she was having sporks constantly thrown at her from the moment she got on the train that day starting sixth year.
She woefully trudged her way up through the corridor of the Hogwarts Express looking for a compartment all to herself. Regardless of being shoved this way and that, she kept on. She was used to this treatment by her peers at this point in time. She continued scanning for an open area. No, there's that Cho girl… She thought to herself, The Patil twins and Lavender. Oh, they were so horrible to me all these years… She passed a series of compartments with members from only a certain house: Hufflepuffs for the first few booths, Ravenclaws in the next few, and so on and so forth. The Slythershitter bitch with her pimp, Malfoy… Hufflepuffers huddling together lacking talent… Ravenfucks reading, no doubt…and here we are—my Gryffindor housemates that carelessly abuse me. God, the Sorting Hat should've put me in Slytherin…They're dark just like me. And so, the quest continued for an empty box for Lillith to mope in and listen to Evanescence and Linkin Park, even though it's 1996 and no one, especially in the UK, knows who they are. But ho! None were found. The very last one was with the school's Nerd Society Representative, that dirt-poor redhead, and last and certainly least in Lillith's book, Harry Asshole—
"Potter!" a voice called that interrupted our tragic heroine's thoughts.
None other than Draco Malfoy. He slid open the glass door, his intentions evident. Lillith didn't care who won in the coming verbal or physical spat; she hated Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy equally with all her heart.
Draco got closer to Harry and whispered something in his ear. Harry's eyes began to widen and shift over to Lillith standing in the doorway.
"Got it?" Draco asked. Harry slowly nodded his head in response and repeated what Draco had just told him to his two friends, Ron and Hermione, the two turning their heads to look at Lillith occasionally. She pretended like she couldn't hear, but she did catch a few words. However, she became confused beyond all belief when she heard the words "wangst", "uber-speshul!!11!" and "Sueniverse". Ron and Hermione sat down in their seats and Draco slowly backed away, casting a look of horror in Lillith's direction, and then running for his life.
Lillith looked over to the three friends, "What was he--?" She was, though, cut short of breath when Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and heaved her into the compartment.
"What are you doing?!" Lillith yelled at him.
"Shh," Harry brought his index finger up to his lips and peered over her shoulder through the window behind her. "There's a wild Flobberworm on the loose…Lookout! Rhaw!" Harry looked a fool contorting his face and forming hand-claws on each side of his head. Lillith looked behind her. The train had not yet left the station and all she saw was Mrs. Weasley frantically waving to her son. She raised an eyebrow at Harry and asked him what they really wanted with her. "I thought you didn't like me. No one likes me…"
And thus, the angst meter climbed to a mind-boggling fifty-five out of ten.
Hermione nudged Ron and he stopped twiddling his thumbs, "What? Oh—no, no, we've always thought you were a nice person, Lillith! No need to get all teary. There, there," said Ron in a mechanical voice with Hermione and Harry glaring at him, "We want you to be friends with us. Best friends, even."
"Really?" Lillith looked up.
"No. I mean yes," Ron sputtered before suspiciously rubbing his shin.
"Well, in that case…" Lillith still seemed upset, but then turned happy all of a sudden. Chipper, you might even call it. "You can call me Lil, Lilli (with an 'I'), Lillian, Lillia, Lydia, Persephone, Persie, Sephie, Perphie, Phony, Payphone, Serenity, Moonflower, Nightshade, Dark Goddess, Kitty, Gwendolyn, Gawthiqua, Shaka-maka-laka, or if you didn't catch those, you could just call me Achnak-toughk Lasch Maighlei. Did you hear that right? Like the way Jewish people pronounce Hanukah."
Hermione tried hard to suppress a snide comment about the last thing Lillith said. Ron's eye was twitching, and Harry was chewing on his robes to keep sane. "And just how would that be pronounced again? I mean, because you know all about Hebrew," Hermione asked.
Lillith was oblivious to the sarcasm in Hermione's voice, and answered full-heartedly, "Ak(with that snorty gurgly sound at the back of your throat)-nak-took-LASH-myLAY"
Ron whispered to Harry, "I still don't get it."
"Can I make up nicknames for all of you?" Lillith asked in a high-pitched voice.
No response.
"Okay, Hermione, your nicknames are Herm, 'Mione, Nee-Nee, and Wormy-Hermy."
Hermione whimpered, sobbing into Ron's shoulder, "That's what the children in the playground used to call me!"
"Ron, you are Ronniekins, Ronnie-Buns, Ronald McDonald, and Ginger."
"What?! I don't want to be named after one of the Spice Girls!" Ron glanced at his two best friends to help, however, his efforts were in vain, "Er…no…nevermind…I'm fine with that…"
"So, Harry, I'll call you Hair-Bear, Hairy-Back Mary, Pocky Potter, My Little Potter,
or--"
"Look! Uh…" Harry trailed off.
The next thing Lillith knew, she was, for some unknown reason, sprawled out on a bed in the hospital wing. And the back of her head was soaking with an odd mix of blood and a really cheap imitation of Isopropyl. She heard a quite exasperated shriek (?).
"Finally! You're up! Professor Dumbledore needs to see you immediately!"
Apparently, Madam Pomfrey was very enthusiastic to get Lillith down to Dumbledore's office, seeing as by the time she finished her sentence she was chucking Lillith off the balcony to the fountain below, even though the Headmaster's office was in the other direction. But it was all good, Lillith was special in a way where she had super-k00l x-ray vision so she could find her way around easily. When she finally reached Dumbledore's office, before she could even knock, Dumbledore happily greeted her and didn't ask why there was no gargoyle waiting for Lillith to give the password because Lillith is a "special case", as one would call it.
"Now, Lillith," Dumbledore began, "what I am about to tell you is strictly confidential and you mustn't let anyone know. You are to keep all of this information to yourself, and should you repeat it, there shall be grave consequences." He gave a sweeping gasp, "You are really from a pureblood family; the Delavan's were never related to you. You're real parents are Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy and you were conceived in such a way that no one has yet to figure out because Severus and Lucius don't like discussing the drunken night in question. You are the Heiress to the Drak Throne, though you are in no way related to Lord Voldemort—you possess greater powers than any wizard I've ever known, myself included. Harry Potter is your destined soul mate and the only person you will ever be happy with, although he must die at your hands for obvious reasons," Dumbledore finished, gasping for air.
"Uh, sir, didn't you mean Dark Throne?"
"Heavens, no."
"Oh," she murmured.
For a second, Lillith thought she heard faint explosions and blood-curdling shrieks of death emanating from the Great Hall, so she just had to ask, "Professor, what are those noises coming from the Great Hall?"
Dumbledore pretended to be interested, and casually answered, "O, ye of little brains! Only a figment of your imagination."
"Hmm…Okay. Bye!" and so, Lillith skipped back to the Gryffindor common room to tell everyone everything, of course.
After that night, she had all the Gryffindors' sympathy and respect, and brains, for the most part. Which was odd, Lillith thought, because no one ever paid any mind to her before, so why would they be so interested to hear what she has to say now? Oh, well. That didn't matter now, did it? She had her housemates' souls and Harry's "gift" at her dispense. She didn't need much else. But something else was bothering her…
"Lil, what's that on your arm?" Hermione asked one morning, while the Golden Quartet was studying in the Great Hall.
Lillith quickly pulled her sleeve over her forearm hiding her self-inflicted fresh scar in the shape of a pot of gold. "Nothing," Lillith replied, "It's nothing. I fell."
"Really?" Hermione inquired, leaning in. Lillith flinched when she did, but Hermione just sat up and squeaked "Okay."
"Strange…" Lillith murmured as she found herself leaving the Great Hall.
"Lilli, where are you going?" Ron shouted from the other side of the gi-BUNG-ous hall. "Harry and I have an absolutely FABULOUS mix-and-match theory for the girls' uniforms we wanted to test on you, because you're a winter and all…"
Lillith acted as if she couldn't hear Ron or Harry or Hermione or anyone else's plea for her to stay with them, their demonically precious faces beckoning her.
"Why aren't they leaving me alone?" Lillith was now concerned something was wrong at Hogwarts, that something diabolical was about to take place…Oh well. That'll have to wait because Lillith must get to the bathroom as soon as possible so she can keep living up to her standards as "Troubled Heroine." It was just all too perfect when Hermione walked in on Lillith's little art session the next week.
"Lillian? Lillia? Is that you?" Hermione crept into the girl's lavatory, following the sobbing. Slowly, she reached the stall Lillith was in, and creaked open the door, even though it really should've been locked. "Oh my God! Lydia!" Hermione gasped.
Lillith just sat there, weeping with a bleeding arm, whimpering , "It puts the lotion on its skin and puts it in the basket…it puts he lotion on, 'Mione!" Lillith threw herself in an embrace with Hermione and cried into her shoulder. Hermione patted her head, still in shock, with Lillith now crying out to the high heavens: "IT PUTS THE LOTION OONNN!!!"
After quite some time of bitch-slapping Lillith out of what Hermione was hoping to be a rare situation, Hermione finally got it out of Lillith why she was doing this.
"Well," Lillith began, "to tell the truth, Herm, it's partially because Voldemort is out looking for me…he wants to kill me! Even more than Harry Potter!" she shed A Single Tear™.
"But, Persephone, Dumbledore said that you were the Heiress to the Drak Throne, so why would Voldemort want to kill you?" Hermione asked, stroking Lillith's perfectly course hair.
"Because my powers are becoming stronger by the minute—in fact, too strong. Voldipants wouldn't allow anyone to have greater powers than he does, with Dumbledore as an exception, and even if I'm the Heiress."
"Forgive me for my ignorance, Persie, but this doesn't seem to be making any--"
Suddenly, Lillith's eyes began to flicker with the anger of a thousand angels—or more accurately, spontaneously combust—and she roared, "SILENCE, FILTHY MORTAL! DO NOT QUESTION OUR PLOT-DEVICES!"
"But, Sephie, a plot-device is--"
"YOU FAIL!" Lillith yelled as she brutally whacked Hermione in the face with her black hay-hair.
"I'm sorry I questioned you, Perphie! I swear on my life it will never happen again!" Hermione begged.
And so, Lillith digressed, "You are forgiven, my child. But know this: when the Revolution comes, you'll be the first one I kill."
"Aw!" Hermione huggled Lillith, but soon threw herself off when Lillith growled. "Er," Hermione began, acting as if nothing had happened, "Phony, you said that that was only partially why you did that…What was the other reason?"
Lillith answered in a matter-of-fact tone, "Well, you see, Nee-Nee, The main reason is that I have an exceptional reputation as the the Goth Girl, so I must keep up with it. Tough work, really…"
Hermione, truthfully didn't seem to have a problem with it. She just waltzed right out of the girl's lavatory and back to the Great Hall where she told everyone everything that had happened. The moment Lillith had come back to the Great Hall, however, all eyes were on her. Lillith's pulse began to race and her swimming pool eyes began to produce a salty liquid spewing in a projectile direction, hitting Neville square in the face and sending him flying out the window. At that very moment, someone in the crowd randomly muttered the words "teh family," and Lillith lost it.
"Don't say that word," she whispered.
"Say what word, Lillith?" the students asked her at once, as if one giant entity, "Family?"
"DON'T EVER REPEAT THAT WORD EVER AGAIN!" she bellowed, her voice ringing out through the grounds. She was left panting with her fists in balls, her eyeballs still leaking, though not in a projectile manner. The Hall was silent. No one spoke, but something had to be said when a gargantuan Endless Pit of Doom unexpectedly appeared beneath Lillith in which she fell to what seemed to be her demise.
As soon as it was certain that Lillith had gone, the students all awoke from their canon-raped trances.
"Is it over?" Ron asked Hermione.
"No, Ron. I'm afraid it's not," Hermione spoke in a grave tone.
"Do you know how long this will last?" Harry inquired.
"I don't know, Harry--but this is only the beginning."