Closed Don't Pretend

Delilah Thorne

ollivander's asst. | middlest | '58 grad
 
Messages
866
OOC First Name
Kadi
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Single
Wand
Knotted 13 Inch Unyielding Hazel Wand with Essence of Belladonna Core
Age
01/2040 (21)
Delilah had walked around the library maybe a dozen times as she built up the courage to knock on the counselor's door. She had lost count after eight laps around the stacks off books, but she couldn't seem to stop. Professor Joseph's was the one who suggested she talk to the school's counselor, at the time she had tried her best to talk herself out of it. She tried to insist she was fine but her Head of House wasn't buying it. It took everything she had to stop pacing in front of Ms. Madison's door with her palms a sweaty mess. She considered just leaving but she also knew professors and staff talked and word would get back to Professor Joseph's. It wasn't anything punishment worthy but she didn't want to draw anymore attention. And avoiding this would just make it worse. With a deep breath Delilah finally knocked on the door and waited for a response before opening it a crack to pop her head inside. "Hi, um. I'm Delilah. I think you were expecting me." she said shyly and fought the urge to run away.
 
Maria always enjoyed the couple of weeks after the school holidays. She had spent a bit of time in the office over the break, sorting out the paperwork she had gotten behind on last semester, and now there was going to be a wonderful lull, where she would be ahead on her paperwork for the next couple of weeks. And then, of course, the downward slide. It was nice, though, having the brain space to focus totally on her clients during this time. Preparing for her upcoming appointment, Maria had already boiled the kettle and was making herself a cup of tea when there was a knock on the door. "Of course, come on in, can I offer you a cup of tea?" She asked, stirring her own cup gently as she waited.
 
Delilah hovered in the doorway for a moment longer but finally she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Yes please." she said politely as she sat down in one of the chairs across from Ms. Madison. If she had to be here at least she could get a cup of tea out of it. With her hands now empty, sitting across from the older woman she felt incredibly vulnerable and was starting to regret her decision not to run away. Delilah shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She didn't want to be the one to speak first but the silence was worse. "I'm not really sure what I'm doing here." she admitted as she nervously tucked her hair behind her ears.
 
Maria nodded when Delilah accepted the offer of tea, pouring her a cup and levitating it over, along with the sugar bowl and a little jug of milk for her to finish the cup to her own liking. She crossed to her own seat and settled in, setting up her automatic note-taking quill and parchment while Delilah spoke. "That's quite alright. You might be surprised to hear that most people tell me the exact same thing." Maria said gently, taking a sip of her own tea once the quill was set up. "So before we get started I'll tell you the same thing I start every session with, so that you understand how this works. Everything you say in this room stays between us, you have absolute confidentiality. The only exception, the only reason I could tell anyone else anything you say without your express permission is if I feel there's a real, immediate threat that you're a danger to yourself or someone else. In that case, I'm legally obligated to tell your Head of House so that we can get you the care you need. But beyond that, everything you say stays between us." She paused, taking another sip of her tea. "Now, Professor Josephs is the one who referred you to me. Do you know why she might have done that? I think that's the best place for us to start."
 
Delilah gratefully took the tea and appreciated the way the warm cup soothed her nerves even a little bit. She wondered if the cup was enchanted to enhance that feeling. That would probably be a good idea if it wasn't already. Before she could follow that train of thought out of her current situation Ms. Madison started to talk to her and she looked up. Delilah wasn’t really comforted that most people were confused about being here, but she forced a polite small smile anyways. She took a small sip of tea but realized she liked holding it more than drinking it right now. Ms. Madison continued on but when she mentioned being a threat to herself, Delilah's head snapped up. "I'm not in danger." she scoffed and froze. She had never spoke so flippantly to a professor or anyone of authority before and she felt immediately embarrassed. She sighed and looked apologetic. "Sorry, It's just." she started but stopped, struggling to find the right words. She had never been good at expressing herself so it wasn't to surprising she was struggling now. Why was this so hard? It was a simple question that had a simple answer and she took a deep breath. "My father died." she said bluntly after what felt like an eternity. "He died and I supposed that could really affect some people. But-" she continued and tried to let the words flow but they tripped up again. "But, I'm fine." she forced out. "My grades are fine. I'm keeping up with my prefect duties and clubs." she added, realizing she sounded nearly hysterical. This had been an horrible idea.
 
Maria gave a sympathetic smile when Delilah scoffed then clearly panicked, shaking her head gently in forgiveness. She had been worried that it would be difficult to get Delilah to talk as it so often was with teenagers, and she was relieved that the girl began sharing almost unprompted, heart bleeding with sympathy at the emotion in her voice. "Take a moment." She said softly, floating a box of tissues over to Delilah. "You've done very well, keeping up with things in such difficult circumstances. But it's okay not to be okay." She said softly. "You're allowed to have feelings, and you're allowed to focus on taking care of yourself, even if it means putting aside things that are normally important to you." Maria gave Delilah a sympathetic look. "Would you blame anyone else for focusing on their mental health while going through what you're going through?"
 
Delilah felt horribly embarrassed by all of this and it wasn’t helped by the box of tissues that floated over to her. But she did as she was told and took a deep breath before setting down her cup of tea and held the box of tissues instead even though she didn’t feel like she was about to cry. She stared at the box instead of looking up as Ms. Madison complimented her even though it didn’t really feel like a compliment. She understood what the counselor was but she wasn’t sure how it applied to her. “Well what am I supposed to do?” Delilah asked with more sincerity than she meant to. It was more true than she’d like to admit. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. “Am I supposed to cry about it?” she asked more sarcastically this time. The flicker of anger that had been in her when she had talked with Simon after the funeral started to ignite again. “But we’re not talking about someone else.” she insisted. “He would want me to keep going, with my grades and everything.” she added and wanted them to be true. In reality she wasn’t sure what her father would have wanted from her. She had tried so hard for him to see her and he never did.
 
Maria gave a reassuring smile when Delilah asked about crying. "If you like." She said softly, letting the girl's sarcasm glide off her. "Crying is part of the healing process, it's normal to cry." She listened as Delilah went on, nodding gently. "So carrying on feels like a good way to honour him?" She asked gently, the soft scratch of the quill lingering as she spoke. "Were you close with your father?"
 
Delilah didn’t react when Ms. Madison said she could cry. She knew that. That's probably what most people did when they came in here. She still held on to the tissue box and was grateful for something to do with her hands. She was starting to regret her wording and was starting to realize that maybe this angle wasn’t going to help her like she thought. She considered the question carefully, knowing she’d have to pick her next words wisely. Was she close with her father? Was that a joke? How could she be close to someone who barely looked up from his work, or could never stop focusing on Simon’s shortcomings long enough to see that she was doing everything right. “No.” she finally admitted. “We weren’t close.” Delilah felt like she needed to defend her statement. But instead she felt deflated but there was some relief there. Like she had finally gotten a rock that had been stuck in her shoe for weeks. She wasn’t close to her father despite everything she tried. “I always hoped that if I did everything right, he would get it. That he would see me. But he’s gone and I don’t know what to do anymore.” she said, the words seem to fall out of her mouth. She wanted to be embarrassed but she wasn’t. This was what it was all about right. Her father was gone and she could never be what he wanted her to be, and he couldn’t be what she needed either.
 
Maria nodded sympathetically as Delilah explained, her picture of the girl's situation slowly filling in as she spoke. "That's a very difficult kind of mourning." She said softly. "Unfinished business along with the loss. Sometimes the loss of potential can be just as painful as the loss of a person. It sounds like it was hard for him to look past status to see who you are, as a person." She considered what Delilah had said, trying to find the core of what the girl needed. "I suppose the next thing to do is to consider your own values." She said softly. "It was important to your father that your grades were high, that you have status, but are those the things that make you happy?"
 
Delilah didn’t like the obvious being stated back to her. It made everything too real. It made her seem so sad and she couldn’t pretend that things were fine. Things were always fine. She needed them to be fine. She needed to be the level headed one. She needed to be the unproblematic one. The one to smooth things over. How could she take up space when the room was already filled by her brothers? Delilah took a shaky breath as Ms. Madison continued to talk and she pinched the bridge of her nose. Her heart was beating fast and her stomach felt sick. How was she supposed to consider her own values? Did school make her happy? Did that really matter? “I guess so.” Delilah finally said, her voice uncertain. “I feel accomplished when I do. I work hard for them.” she added, thinking about how hard she was trying to scrap by in her Charms lessons. “I don’t think I’ve ever considered any other option. If I don't get the grades where will that leave me? Working at Olivander's forever?" Her words came out in a rush towards the end and she wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt.
 
Maria was relieved to see Delilah actually considering the question, rather than giving an answer she thought she was supposed to. She nodded thoughtfully at the girl's response, though she couldn't help a small smile at the last part. "You know, I barely graduated." She said gently. "I was... a very angry teenager. I felt like the world was out to get me, and that didn't leave a lot of space or energy for studying. When you're in Hogwarts it feels like your whole future depends on these few years, but in the grand scheme of things seven years is such a small slice of your life. If you aren't happy studying as hard as you do, there will be other opportunities down the line. And if you do enjoy your studies, but find it more difficult with everything else going on, we can organise some support for you." She smiled sympathetically. "Do you know what you want to do after graduation?"
 
“It doesn’t feel small.” Delilah choked out, frustrated. It felt huge and inescapable, and like it would last forever. Obviously she knew that wasn’t the case but the future outside these walls was a murky void that she couldn’t see no matter how hard she tried. She knew what was expected of her. She was supposed to work for a while before being married off to some respectable boy to have his children. That was the future she had been raised to expect. Thinking about it now made her stomach clench. “No, not really.” she answered after a moment. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. The only thing she had ever really liked was music but she wasn’t good enough to play professionally or anything. “And I don’t dislike Ollivanders.” she added not wanting the counselor to get the wrong idea. She knew her father would never stand for her to work at a shop forever and would insist she get some kind of ministry job. But it wasn’t his choice. None of it was anymore.
 
Maria gave Delilah a sympathetic look. "I know." She said softly. "And I'm not saying this time shouldn't matter, or that your feelings about it are wrong. I just want to remind you that this isn't everything. There are other opportunities to learn and find your path." She nodded when Delilah discussed her prospects. "I'm glad you don't dislike it, but it doesn't sound like it's what you want to do forever?" She asked gently. "Are there particular skills you like using? Things that you would want to look for in your future?"
 

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