
Chapter Eighteen
Hatred of Dumbledore so deeply embedded in him struck like a chord, making his bones appear to vibrate. Of all people, she had to ask for Dumbledore. Tom supposed, though unwillingly, that the old man was their best opportunity to get sufficient care. Nonetheless, his teeth gritted at the thought of having that man in his presence.
Delilah started convulsing, her back arching before slamming into the table again. Quite effectively snapping Tom out of his brooding.
"You," his voice was severe and the elf he was pointing at, Gilroy, flinched. "Yes, sir Riddle?" The elf said, voice quivering and his eyes bulged at the sight of blood everywhere. "Send for Dumbledore immediately, and tell him to bring Madame Fontaine."
With a nod and a crack, Gilroy was gone.
Tom turned back to Delilah, who lay limp and pale on the copper table. There were crimson streaks of blood leaving red tears from her eyes. In some cynical way, Tom supposed this was the first time he saw her cry. And hopefully the last. The picture didn't sit right in his mind. Delilah wasn't one to succumb to such weakness, and a small part of himself thought that was quite admirable. Though he'd never tell her that, she'd be too smug for her own good.
The clock on the wall ticked incessantly, the small sound felt deafening however. Taunting him, making his nerves feel scrambled and his head feel heavy. The irrational part of his mind made Delilah appear to get worse with every tick, and finally his body acted on impulse. Tom whirled around and fired a reducto at the offending clock, elves screeching as wood splinters flew everywhere. "Where the bloody hell is he." Tom bit, glaring at the fireplace.
Her teeth chattered and were stained a deep red, she tried speaking, but found her vocal chords to be too weak. She kept trying and nearly started to cough again. There was a twitch to Tom's cheek as she had to roll over again to spit out blood. "Is he- Dumbl-" she stuttered, trying to sit up, but Tom gently pushed her down.
"Hush now, don't be an idiot." He muttered, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief. Bringing out his wand, he wet it with cold water and took to wiping off the blood the best he could. The bleeding seemed to stop, and over all, she looked hauntingly debilitated. He left her eyes be, though he thought leaving the blood wasn't the best idea. He didn't know how to properly go about cleaning them.
Delilah was twitching every now and then, and felt like she was on fire yet cold all at once. She felt drained. Her senses started to leave her and she looked around with a new urgency, trying to recollect how she ended up in such a state. But her memory was slipping by the second.
"Hey, calm down." She started to hyperventilate, her breaths constricted by the tightness of her dress. Tom clenched his jaw, telling himself to just leave it, but lately he's found himself ignoring the more sound part of his mind. He took to the front laces which mended up her dress tightly and felt Delilah shiver as she felt the strings being tugged, but didn't protest.
Hooking his fingers on the last few ties, he loosened her outer dress. Really, why women wore such dreaded and constrictive clothing baffled him. How at all was this type of wear convenient? When it was finally undone, he grabbed her hands and pulled her up into a sitting position and took to standing between her legs. Her undergarments were on show but he ignored the sight, keeping his eyes trained on her face. "Open your mouth," he directed curtly. He wasn't sure she heard him, but a few seconds later she dropped her mouth ajar.
He poured some water in her mouth and told her to rinse and spit into a bowl he grabbed. Blood tinted water came from her mouth and she was still breathing shallowly. Her skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and he was sure her carbon dioxide levels in her body were dangerously high, he needed to slow her breathing rate.
"Purse your lips," Tom mimicked what he wanted her to do with his own, his face but mere inches from hers. Delilah eyed his mouth before doing as told. He then raised his hands to cup the front of his mouth, "now do this and breath through your lips." Her hands shook as she raised them, the sight causing her even more stress. "No Delilah, slowly. Breath into your stomach rather than your chest." He placed a warm hand to where her diaphragm was, the skin to skin contact making a sudden calm wash over her.
"Hold your breath ten seconds between each, I'll count, okay?" He was walking her through the breathing exercise slowly, adding slight pressure to her stomach with each pause. Their eyes were locked onto one another as she took in a shuddering breath, and holding it as he counted to ten. They repeated this cycle until her breathing calmed and he lied her back down.
Tom looked her over, wondering what the hell happened. Did he do this? He couldn't see how, a reaction to legilimency like hers has never been heard of. This was something else entirely. How long had she been ill? He noticed she'd been coughing the past week, and for as long as he's known her, she's always been cold to the touch.
Almost like a statue.
Leaning over the table, he placed his hands on both her cheeks, mentally reciting a blood replenishing charm over and over again. It was the most he could offer at the moment. Tom nearly flinched when he felt her cool hands cover his own, gripping onto them the best she could, though her muscles felt incredibly weak.
She was staring at him, wide eyed and it felt like she was digging into the very depths of his mind. She wasn't reading him, he knew that, but her gaze was unwavering. He had to admit, it was a bit unsettling. The feeling that was taking hold of his body was similar to the way one felt when a ghost passed through.
It was like someone covered him in a veil of dread.
The door suddenly creaked open, but Tom was too focused on the blue eyes looking at him.
Aleksander walked in, his mind set on a late evening snack when he froze at the sight in front of him. Delilah laid on the table, blood staining her clothing, which were undone, and Tom's clothes were covered as well. She looked on the brink of death. His eyes were wide and panic shot through him.
"What've you done to her!" He shouted, pulling Tom out of his thoughts. He turned just in time to see Aleksander running at him.
Really?
With an annoyed sigh and a lazy wave of his hand, Tom sent the boy flying, his back hitting painfully against the cast iron stove. He watched as Aleksander groaned in pain, but he noticed something else. Something peculiar.
Tom realized the boy looked not only scared, but terrified as indicated by the boys wide eyes and shrunken pupils. Not to mention the sudden heavy breathing. And he hadn't the faintest idea why. No, it wasn't him worrying for Delilah's well being. This was a fear rooted in something else entirely.
He only knew this because he saw that look in his followers' eyes.
The fireplace at the far end of the kitchen went ablaze and out stepped Dumbledore, quickly followed by Madame Fontaine. Whom whimpered a bit at the sight of Delilah. Tom assumed she was probably a bit tired of seeing Delilah fall so ill again. He wanted to hex them, maybe even yell at them if he was to be so brash. What the hell took them so long?
Dumbledore rushed over, his eyes not wavering from the girl on the table, but his words were directed at Tom. "What happened?" Tom felt himself raise an eyebrow at the slight frantic tone in the professor's voice. Of course he'd have concern for one of his students, but the glint in Dumbledore's usually twinkling eyes was dark.
"I don't know, sir." His voice was smooth and a bit quiet, and for maybe the first time, Dumbledore believed him.
Tom's curiosity had been spiked yet again. Now that he allowed himself to think about it, why was Delilah so urgent for Dumbledore? He's never seen the man so interested in a student, well maybe besides himself. But even he didn't have weekly meetings with the man. Yes, Tom knew of those. It was almost laughable to see Delilah thinking she was being discreet. There was an insatiable itch to know what they talked about, because quite a few times has Delilah left his office either; fuming, annoyed, or slightly depressed. But trying to listen in would've been fruitless, Dumbledore had a series of spells to ensure privacy on his office.
The headmaster's eyes watched the two as he stepped back, letting Madame Fontaine begin running diagnostics. Tom knew she wouldn't find much, seeing as he tried the same thing about three times.
Dumbledore followed the sudden movement Delilah made, her hand was reaching out. She clutched Tom's hand, seeking as much warmth as she could. Seeking familiarity. He noticed how Tom didn't pull away.
Whether or not the notion was strictly pretense, Dumbledore supposed sometimes even the darkest of souls are drawn to the light.
He just hoped Tom Riddle was there to stay.
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"What do you think happened?" Aleksander was leaning against the wall opposite of her bed, his eyes trained on the sleeping girl. Elio shifted a bit in his chair, which he conjured and sat next to the bed, lightly running his fingers through her hair. "I don't know."
There was a beat of silence, the clock on the mantle ticking away, making everyone feel nervous. "You don't suppose Riddle did something?" At his words, Elio tensed but shook his head. He didn't want to think of that being a possibility. Besides, Tom wouldn't be so careless. And he knew he was an excellent liar, but Elio didn't miss the way Tom's eyes were set.
For the first time, Elio witnessed Tom Riddle confused.
He was a bit annoyed no one came to get him straight away. By the time he was informed, Delilah was passed out on the table and Dumbledore was talking in hushed whispers to Madame Fontaine. She wanted Delilah to go to St. Mungo's, but by the looks of it, Dumbledore was refusing.
"He couldn't have." He finally said, not being able to take his gaze off Delilah. His eyes trailed along her features, counting each faded freckle on her cheeks. Part of himself was annoyed at her, or he guessed at himself. Delilah never seemed to tell him if she was in trouble, yet Tom always seemed to be at her side when she was.
Why won't she let him in? Why was she holding back?
His memory wandered to the night before, that wonderful and blissful night. In a way she did give herself to him, at least a small part. But she was still closed off considerably. Elio looked at his sleeping girlfriend in immense worry and fascination. Sure, she talked about her friends and family, but she never talked about her life before Hogwarts.
And after last night, he was beyond curious.
Because when she took off her blouse, and his hands trailed down her back. She froze, and he felt uneven skin, he felt scar tissue covering her entire back, from the base of her neck down to her tailbone. There wasn't an inch of smooth skin. He met her eyes then, and the look in them told him not to ask. So he didn't, and he kept his hands away from her back. But later that night, when she finally drifted off into sleep next to him, her back was to him and he finally saw. Elio couldn't even imagine the pain those wounds must've caused.
He couldn't help but wonder what happened to her. But he knew she'd tell him in her own time, or maybe never at all.
"But don't you think he's capable?" Aleksander asked, he was biting the inside of his thumb. Elio turned to look at him and analyzed how his foot was tapping. "What's that supposed to mean?" He eyed the boy warily, he didn't know the full extent of his relationship with Tom. But Elio did know the two weren't fond of each other.
Aleksander rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, walking over to lean his hands on the footboard of the bed. "You know well what I mean, he's a diavol. Don't you find it curious he was the only one with her when she started to bleed everywhere? And they weren't in the manor. They were alone, and he doesn't know what happened? And did you see the state of her clothes?" With his anger slightly rising, Aleksander's Romanian accent became thicker as he spoke.
Elio shook his head, annoyance at the boy growing by the second. Tom didn't hurt Delilah, he refused to even consider it. Because if he did, he'd probably do something ridiculously brash and get himself killed by attacking Tom. Elio knew he wasn't a match for him, Tom was exceedingly gifted at magic, not to mention terrifying if he let himself go. He involuntarily shivered at the memory of himself thrashing on the floor, screaming in pain as Tom stood above him, blank faced.
He wasn't in the particular mood to have the cruciatus curse cast on him again. It was a dreadful punishment if Tom felt their loyalty wavering. "Mate, do me a favor and fuck off, yeah?"
"Boys!" Lolita hissed quietly, snapping the two out of it. They'd forgotten she was even in the room. "Either shut up or take this outside, she needs to rest." She glared at the two with a surprising amount of authority behind her eyes, and Aleksander begrudgingly left the room.
With an annoyed sigh, Lolita conjured her own chair and sat herself down next to Elio. She eyed him a moment before clearing her throat, "You don't think Riddle would've done this, do you?"
He shrugged and rubbed at his eyes tiredly, it was well around six in the morning. "Honestly, Lita? I've no idea. But if he did, I'll kill him." And she believed him.
There was a groan from the bed and the two snapped their heads in her direction. "Love, you need anything?" Elio said quietly, not entirely sure if she had a headache or not. He wouldn't doubt it. He brushed her hair back and watched as her eyes flickered open.
"Where?" She said confused, sitting up quickly and looking around the room. "Elio? Lita?" She then quickly looked at her hand, but frowned. How'd she get to her room? The last thing she remembered was Tom giving her that rose. Delilah then looked around the room, and felt annoyed at herself at the disappointment she was feeling that a certain boy wasn't there.
"You okay?" Lolita asked, eyeing her friend in worry. "Yeah, I'm fine, just-" she took a breath and looked at the clock. It was the morning of Christmas Eve, the ball was tonight. "I'm just tired." And she was, she felt exhausted. But she had to admit she was a bit excited for tonight.
"What happened?" Delilah looked at herself in slight confusion, she was wearing pajamas. How'd she get back to the manor without remembering? And more importantly, who changed her?
Elio and Lolita looked at each other with an eyebrow raised, but said nothing. Because they hadn't the faintest idea either. Telling the girl she was bleeding from her eyes and mouth didn't seem like the best idea at the moment.
"Food poisoning." Lolita blurted and Elio gave her an incredulous look. She shrugged, gesturing it was the first thing that came to mind. He nodded and turned to Delilah, "Yeah, it was dreadful. You said you felt sick to your stomach and ended up passing out, dreadful side effects."
"Oh." Delilah scratched her head, trying to recollect what happened the previous evening, but came up blank. She then smiled widely and grabbed Lolita's hands, her friend grinning warily. "Can you do my hair tonight? I actually want to look presentable for once."
Lolita nodded, suppressing a shiver at the girls touch. Was she always this cold? "Are you sure you're well enough for the ball tonight?" Elio asked, which earned him a frown. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"
And again, the two friends shared a glance.
"Well, I've some exciting news!" Lolita said quickly, urging for a change in conversation. She wasn't planning on telling her like this, but better now, she supposed. Delilah raised a brow at the sudden shift.
"Cain and I are to be married this summer!"
She felt her eyes bulge at her friends words, nearly forgetting such things were normal in this time period. "He proposed yesterday." Lolita held out her hand and a wide, giddy smile was on her lips. "It's gorgeous." Delilah said, the ring was also massive. "Congratulations!" She pulled Lolita into a hug and her eyes flickered to Elio for a split second. Were people awaiting them to get married?
Thought made something in her stomach drop uncomfortably.
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Lolita finished styling her hair, hovering over Delilah's shoulder and their eyes met in the mirror. "You look beautiful." She gave her a smile and reached up to squeeze Lolita's hand. "Thank you."
Olive was standing at another mirror fixing her lipstick and Aurora was fastening her own hair into an updo. Delilah looked at them all and remembered her fourth year when she was getting ready for Yule Ball with Cho and Luna. Her heart ached at the memory.
"I can't wait to see your dress, Pyrrhus wouldn't shut up about how great his skills were." Aurora mused, pulling out her own dress and began to change. It was a lovely neutral beige color with a gold shimmer running along the train, complimenting her dark skin beautifully.
"Yes, but he wouldn't tell us what it looked like." Olive chimed, she seemed to be a in good mood lately. Albeit Delilah hasn't really talked to her much. There was a knock on the door, and before anyone told the person to come in, the door opened. It was Rosie, and she held a bright smile as she sauntered into the room.
She herself was dressed in an adorable gown, the light purple fabric shimmering as she moved. "Hello, little one. Where've you been?" Delilah asked, huffing a bit as the young girl hugged her. "I have a dumb tutor, even though it's the holidays!" Rosie had an aghast look on her features that Delilah couldn't help but smile at. "Where's your dress? You're going to be late, some of the guests are already in the hall."
Rosie took Delilah's hand and began to drag her to the wardrobe where her dress hung. She looked over her shoulder and met the amused glances of her friends. "Rosie don't break the poor girls wrist," Lolita mused, grinning at her soon to be little sister in-law.
Delilah grabbed her dress, which was in a gown bag and went to walk towards the bathroom to change. She was a bit nervous to be honest, the gown was by far the most expensive thing she's probably ever worn. She'd also had it tailored so it covered up her back sufficiently, that did ease some of her stress.
The corset was a bit difficult to manage when trying to tie the back of it with only a mirror for help, but Delilah tightened the laces with her wand and let out a breath. Beauty is pain, she thought bitterly. Still, as she looked at herself she couldn't help but grin. She felt like a princess.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, Delilah was met with a few gasps and she shifted on her feet. "Is it bad?" Aurora shook her head, eyeing the girl head to toe. "Pyrrhus outdid himself."
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Tom was lounged in a chair, lazily flipping through a book while the boys either fussed over their hair or their suits. Pyrrhus was changing his shoes for the third time, not being able to decide which leather would go best with the rest of his outfit.
His eyes glanced up at Elio, who was fidgeting with his tie. He'd been tense ever since last night, which was a bit annoying but he supposed it was reasonable. His girlfriend nearly died and he wasn't there to protect her.
Despite himself, Tom's lips quirked a bit.
He was there, he always was.
It must burn Elio to know he's never her first choice. With the shake of his head, Tom stood and fixed his cuff links, smoothing out his all black suit.
Just then Abraxas walked in, a slight annoyed look to his features. "My mum nearly saw me." He grunted, shutting the door behind him with a kick.
None of the boys were looking forward to seeing their parents.
"Has the Minister arrived?" Cain asked as he tucked his shirt in before absentmindedly fiddling with his new engagement ring. A smile graced his lips at the touch of it. Abraxas laughed dryly and shook his head, "of course not, he'll probably show up an hour late with some grand entrance and have a fascinating tale to tell everyone."
Tom spared a look in the mirror and smoothed his hair back, "well gentlemen, you know what your jobs are tonight." He settled them all with a glance and walked out the door.
"I hope he trips tonight." Elio muttered as soon as he was sure Tom was out of earshot. Pyrrhus chuckled and ruffled his friends hair, "Tom Riddle never trips, he gracefully staggers." Elio smacked Pyrrhus' arm away and gave him a mocking laugh.
"Who is he expecting to know about the Deathly Hallows? If he didn't even know about it, how is some low life Ministry official?" Cain pocketed his wand before he walked out the door, the rest following. Elio shrugged, not really caring about Tom's plans for tonight. Sure he'd ask around, but other than that he was determined to have a decent time tonight. "Just get them drunk enough and see what happens." Pyrrhus patted Cain and Abraxas on the back before trotting off down the stairs.
He was probably the most party going of the group, always up for a dance and a drink.
"Poor bloke is going to get shit-faced." Elio said with a grin on his lips. Drunk Pyrrhus never ceased to be a source of entertainment. "Let's hope all of us do." Cain muttered with a sigh as he saw his mother beckoning him over. As he walked towards her, he grabbed a glass of champagne off a waiter and downed it quickly before putting it back.
"There you are," a voice said gruffly and they whirled around. Olive was making her way down to the foot of the main staircase, holding up her dress so she didn't fall. "Where the hell is Pyrrhus?" Even with her heels on the girl still couldn't see over the crowd. "Most likely at the bar." Abraxas mused, covering up at laugh with a cough due to the annoyed look in her eyes. "Figures." Before Olive could leave, he caught her arm. "Will Aurora be down soon?"
She was about to reply but her eyes landed on something behind Abraxas. "Take a look for yourself," she nodded to the stop of the staircase and the boys turned. Both their jaws went slack as they watched their two girls walk down like the queens they considered them to be.
They looked beautiful.
Aurora had a bashful smile on her lips as she caught sight of the glimmer in her lovers eyes. Meanwhile Delilah was trying her best to not let her heels slip on the marble stairs. Really, they could've at least rolled out a carpet.
Elio was caught in a moment of breathless delight. The noise from the ballroom behind him faded, and the chandelier hanging high above seemed to only exist to cast a golden light on Delilah.
The dress fit snugly at the top in crimson silk with lace designs of lily of the valley crawling over her shoulders and up her neck. And at the waist, an explosion of shimmering red fabric broke from the snug top and cascaded to the floor. Glints of silver sparkled as she moved. The deep red contrasted beautifully with her skin tone and golden hair, her lips were also painted the same shade.
She reached the bottom, a sheepish smile on her face and a blush to her cheeks at the way he was looking at her. "Darling, you're stunning." He took her hand and spun her around. The back was just as beautiful. The dresses back was exposed, but the same intricate lace covered her back like a second skin.
Elio rummaged in his pocket and felt Delilah shiver slightly at he touched her neck lightly. She felt the coolness of metal greet her neck and her eyes widened as she looked down. Elio placed a light kiss to the back of her neck after he clasped the necklace and spun her back around.
Delilah held up the necklace and bit her lip, it was an eagle with its wings spread and three roses lined down its back. "Elio it's gorgeous, you didn't have to." He wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Consider it an early Christmas gift." She smiled up at him and took the arm he offered. "Shall we?"
She sighed and looked at the massive crowd awaiting them. This Yule Ball would definitely be much more different than the one in her fourth year. "Now or never."
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The Regency Dance went well, in her opinion. She kept catching Andonis' judgemental gaze throughout the whole thing, but other than that she didn't trip up. Delilah and Elio were now dancing at a more casual pace, talking about random things.
He let out a sigh and his eyes searched the crowd for probably the fourth time. "What's the matter?" Delilah tried to follow his gaze but he turned to look at her. He looked annoyed. "Riddle wants me to ask around for a research thing he's working on," he wasn't sure how to properly word it. Let alone if he should even be telling her. But this was Delilah, he'd tell her anything and quite frankly he wasn't a big fan of Tom's lately.
Raising a brow, Delilah absentmindedly messed with her new necklace. "Is this about the Deathly Hallows?" Elio looked down at her confused and slightly surprised, his eyes narrowed in question. "He told you?" Why on earth would he tell Delilah? Tom barely even told them anything.
Delilah laughed a bit and shook her head. "I'm the one who told him about it." Her brows furrowed at his sudden shift in aura, he seemed tense. His mouth opened to reply but he was cut off as a young girl walked forward. She must've been one of Cain's cousins. "Would you like to dance?" She asked him with a smile. Elio was about to decline but Delilah pulled away from him. "Don't let me keep you from socializing."
"Del-"
"I see Cain, I'll be just over there if you need me." She have him a small smile and turned her back, the metal on her necklace feeling so cold it nearly burned.
Maneuvering her way through the crowd, she found Cain sitting at one of the tables, a glass of fire whiskey in hand. Before she reached him however, someone gripped her hands and began to spin her around quickly. Delilah laughed at the blurry sight of Pyrrhus in front of her, his own lips in a grin. They stopped spinning, completely oblivious to the looks of annoyance from other guests. Pyrrhus let out a sigh as he looked her up and down, practically u dressing her with his eyes. "My love, you look ravishing."
She raised a brow, giving him the silent question she thought she wasn't his preferred sexual orientation. Pyrrhus have her a wink and leaned over to place a kiss on her cheek. "I dabble." As he pulled back he grabbed a champagne glass and downed it. "I'll see you later." And he was off, probably to flirt with half the attendees.
Delilah neared Cain and he gave her a grin, gesturing for her to sit, which she took gladly to. There was a beat of silence and Delilah felt his eyes on her, causing her to shift in her seat. "What?" She finally said, not liking the silence or the sudden smugness to his features. A waiter walked back and she grabbed a glass, not caring what was in it.
"Your relationship with him is fascinating." Cain said conversationally. "I mean I suppose, Elio-"
He shook his head. "I meant your relationship with Riddle." Delilah nearly choked on the champagne she was indulging on. "There's no 'relationship' between Riddle and I." He shook his head with a light laugh, eyes wandering over the large mass of people. He hated these parties, they were exhausting. He caught sight of Lolita having a chat with an auror and raised a hand, giving her a wink as well.
"It's not your fault you're attracted to him. Everyone is, in some way. He's alluring. But you're different." Delilah shook her head, the action was barely perceptible. "I'm really not." She muttered into the thin glass. "No, but you are. You actually stopped and looked. You asked 'why?' when everyone else is afraid to. And that is what caught his attention. You have enraptured Riddle, and neither of you have noticed. Nietzsche once said, when you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you."
Delilah raised a brow, Cain was being rather philosophical tonight. She was also surprised he even knew who Nietzsche was. "Meaning?" She asked and he rolled his eyes. "Meaning," he began. "Riddle is the abyss. You took interest in him, genuine interest. And he latched onto you in return. He finds you an enigma in the form of a five foot two blonde who wears a skirt that's just little bit too short."
Delilah snorted and lightly smacked Cain's chest. There was no way in hell Tom ever paid the remotest attention to what she wore. He was too busy scheming world domination or something of the sort.
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Cain sighed and downed the rest of his drink. Delilah turned and saw Tom approaching, and despite her efforts a blush rose to her cheeks and she eyed him over appreciatively. His suit fit him wonderfully.
He stopped right in front of her, smelling of burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes. She found herself breathing in more intentionally. He gave a curt nod to Cain, who returned it with a slight raise of his empty glass. Tom turned his gaze back to Delilah, slightly surprised she wasn't glaring daggers at him.
"Do you want to dance?" A waltz was about to be played and she bit her lip, trying her best to ignore the hidden smile on Cain's lips. "If I'm asked properly."
He didn't ask, Tom simply held out an arm with a brow raised. Delilah sighed and downed her drink before taking his arm. Really, her lack of will power was a bit pathetic.
They barley danced for a minute before Delilah pinched his arm a bit harshly. He narrowed his eyes at her, "do you have a problem you wish to yell at me for," Tom said flatly, guiding her around the other couples. She was doing her best to ignore the feel of his hand on her back through the lace. Delilah set her jaw and looked up at him, "you could've at least come by to see if I was okay."
He looked at her curiously then and noticed the necklace on her neck. Tom bit at his cheek at the three roses, a symbol he was familiar with. Those three roses belonged on the Rosier family crest. That pettier part of himself wanted to hit Elio. It was the boys subtle way of marking her as his.
"I wasn't expecting you'd want me to visit." He said slowly, trying to gauge her expression. Was she messing with him? Delilah pinched his arm again and he took to slapping her hand away half heartedly. "Of course I would." Her cheeks felt on fire and she turned her gaze away from him pointedly. That was a stupid thing to admit. She supposed she should probably keep away from anymore alcohol or else much more stupid and dangerous things could be tumbling from her mouth.
Deciding it was time to change the topic of discussion, Delilah cleared her throat and tried to calm her beating heart. They were so close. "Christmas am I right?" She inwardly cringed, no that definitely made everything worse. The amusement in his eyes wasn't helping either. "I remember when I was little I was baffled by how Father Christmas could've possibly delivered all those presents in one night."
Tom shrugged, "quite simple, magic obviously. Though why parents continue to let an old man into their home late at night is a bit questionable." Delilah snickered, "You talk about him as if he's real." Her smile grew as she watched the question in his eyes. "You're joking." She bit her lip as she looked at him. Tom Riddle believed in Santa. He had to be joking.
Not being able to help it, Delilah broke into a laugh. A genuine, deep in your stomach where it hurts laugh. It felt nice, she hadn't laughed like that in awhile. She threw a hand over her mouth and leaned her forehead on his shoulder.
He looked down at her, dark eyes glimmering.
From across the room, searching eyes fall on the two. Elio felt a sudden weight drop in his stomach. Delilah never looked at him like that.
Pyrrhus walked up beside his friend, staggering a bit and his brows furrowed at the sudden look of poorly veiled pain. He followed Elio's gaze and sighed. Pyrrhus patted him on the shoulder, offering him a drink that he just grabbed off a platter.
"I know how that feels, mate."
Elio shrugged off his arm and took the drink, letting the liquid burn down his throat. He told himself it was nothing. "Did you find anything?" He asked, not expecting a 'yes' seeing as Pyrrhus was swaying. But he nodded, a pleased smile on his lips. "Aleksander said I should talk to this one bloke and he actually had some interesting pointers. I think you should meet him."
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An hour or two goes by, if she's being honest she lost track. Currently they were walking through the stone garden again, the music from the ball dancing through the windows. The snow took on a blue tint due to the moonlight and the crunch from their footsteps carried about the air.
"I have a question." He said suddenly, and she looked over a statue of a woman and her child. "Even if I say no, I know you're going to ask anyway, so," she waved her hand for him to continue. "Did you recognize any of Abraxas' family members by chance?" He was trying to ask her about that boy he saw in her memory. She called him Malfoy and they were unmistakably related. But he's spent much time with Abraxas' family and he's never seen him before.
"What do you mean?" Delilah spun the necklace around her fingers. Tom found the necklace offensive and he didn't know why, he felt that familiar itch and lit a cigarette. "Do you know any of his family by chance?"
She shook her head, ignoring the sudden flash of Draco's face in her mind. "Not that I know of, why?" Tom felt his jaw tick, she was lying.
Her eyes landed on her fallen angel and she smiled at Tom, "would you like a proper dance?" He raised a brow, his hands in his pockets and a cigarette hanging from his lips. The orange glow from the tip casted his face in a haunting, yet alluring light.
"Not a waltz or anything," she clarified. She was freezing but part of it made her feel alive, the bite to her skin reminding her she was there, she was alive and real. And so was the boy in front of her. Even though she wouldn't be in this time forever, she could enjoy this moment if she allowed herself to.
He inhaled and let out a cloud of smoke which swirled in the cold air. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and gestured for her to go on. "Just close your eyes and move, lose yourself in it. Listen to the faint music or the wind, they aren't so different." At the blank look Tom was giving her she huffed. "Give up control, just this once."
Her hands were on her hips and she was looking at him expectantly and there was a hint of excitement. With a huff, Delilah threw up her hands. "Fine, I'll close my eyes first. I promise I won't open them." She closed her eyes and stood there for a moment. "Are they closed?"
Reluctantly, he closes his eyes.
"Yes they're closed, now what?" He threw his cigarette to the ground and heard the hiss as the snow put out the light. "Just listen, if not to the music, at least listen to the way the snow crunches beneath your feet or your heart. Let your body be and feel the world around you."
He doesn't move but he can almost feel her in the space between them. Tom opened his eyes after a few seconds to find Delilah swaying about, her arms outstretched, her own eyes shut and a content smile on her lips.
He watched her movements carefully, he watched the way the end of her dress got soaked with snow. She seemed to be floating and with the paleness of her skin she looked like a ghost. Tom bit at his cheek as his eyes fell on her left hand. 'This is Deserved' was barely visible but it seemed to be screaming at him. How could she not be livid at him? How had she even been able to look at him let alone dance with him? Perhaps she didn't fully remember, he wouldn't be surprised. But wouldn't Elio or one of the others have told her? Surely the notion that she was bleeding everywhere would've been concerning.
Tom was also surprised she was even attending the ball. When he saw her walk down the stairs he couldn't pull his eyes off her. Delilah looked well enough, but Madame Fontaine warned she should stay in bed for a day or two, she shouldn't over exert herself. The healer really wanted Delilah at St. Mungo's but Dumbledore was highly against. He recalled how he leaned back as she ran her test, arguing with the professor for nearly twenty minutes.
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"Albus she needs better care than a school nurse. I may be well versed, but I've never seen a condition such as hers." Madame Fontaine said with a frustrated sigh, glaring at Dumbledore with an incredulous sheen. The old man shook his head, staring down his crooked nose at the girl. "She can't go there, I'm sorry, but it's for reasons I'm not permitted to speak of." Of course he was worried for Delilah, and St. Mungo's would undoubtedly be safer. But they couldn't risk it. Delilah didn't have any proper records and if the hospital alerted the ministry, even for the smallest thing, everything could be ruined. There'd be no telling what they'd do to her.
The Ministry and Dumbledore were already on rocky grounds due to Grindelwald. They'd probably accuse him of stealing a time-turner to gain information of the future to become Minister. The thought annoyed him. No matter how many times he assured the Minister of Magic he didn't want his job, they were still suspicious.
"Tom, I'll need you to keep an eye on her and alert me if anything arises." He turned his knowing eyes on the boy and Tom stiffened. He hated when Dumbledore had his gaze solely on him, he nearly felt transparent. A notion he's grown all too familiar with Delilah as of late. He looked at said girl who had passed out on the table, her chest rising and falling in an even pattern. Tom nodded once, "of course, sir."
He looked between them again and tilted his head to the side. "Is there something you wish to tell me?" He asked. Tom was the only one with her, he had to wonder if the boy wasn't letting on as much as he knew. A girl doesn't just start bleeding from her eyes. He ran his own tests and couldn't find any traces of dark magic. But one could never be too careful.
Tom kept his gaze steady but he felt the strain in his neck growing. "No sir, nothing." The two held eye contact for a few more moments before Dumbledore nodded his head, "very well." Madame Fontaine then walked up to him, smiling warmly. "You seem to be her knight in shining armor, always there when she needs help." She blustered, patting him on the cheek. He mustered up a small, charming smile to mask his disdain of her touch. "It's really no fuss."
And right around that time is when Elio came in, pausing to take in the scene before rushing over to Delilah's side. Tom didn't miss the fire in the boys eyes as they landed on him.
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"While I'm alone and blue as can be. Dream a little dream of me." She knew the little shit was looking at her so she decided to grace him with her awful singing. It's the least she could do. "Merlin, do stop." Tom felt his lips twitch and his muscles stretched into something he wasn't familiar with. A genuine smile.
"Birds singin' in the sycamore trees. Dream a little dream of me." She spun in a circle and her heels slipped on a sheet of ice hidden beneath the snow. She let out a small scream and she felt the cold ice sink into her skin through the thin fabric of her lace. "Holy shit." Her teeth chattered and she glared at the look on Tom's face.
But the longer she looked at him, the annoyance seemed to melt away. He seemed lighter all the sudden. He offered her a hand and tugged her up none to gently, not holding on long enough for her to right her balance. Her dress was slightly heavier due to its new dampness. "At least you didn't laugh." She muttered, shivering slightly.
He began walking back to the manor and hummed, "believe me when I say I wanted to." That earned him a slight smack to his arm. They fell into conversation concerning the holidays and what they usually do, taking back passages through the manor to avoid people. "I would typically spend it with my family, but up until I was fourteen I started to spend it either with friends or I'd stay at school."
Tom hummed as they made their way to their hall, not risking saying anything incase she decided to retreat back into her shell. Delilah rarely talked about her time before she came to Hogwarts. And he was in no mood to pry into her memories again. He didn't need a repeat of yesterday.
"What about you?" She said slowly, not sure if she was crossing some invisible boundary. Tom never talked about himself and the more she thought about it, she barely knew anything about him. That didn't annoy her as much as it usually would, she was keeping so much from him as well. Tom spared her a long glance before slightly shrugging. "Not so much different from you, I spent my younger years back at home." The word tasted foul on his tongue. The orphanage was far from being considered a home. More like a specially formed hell. He loathed that place and he swore one day he'd burn it to the ground. "Around third year I started either staying at Hogwarts or with one of the boys."
Delilah wanted to ask him why, and what his home life was like but kept the question to herself, perhaps another day. They stopped then, looking at each other and both of their backs to each their doors. "I do hate the holidays though, there's never enough to keep me busy." He muttered, trying to prolong the conversation as much as possible. He needed her to keep talking, hoping something useful would tumble out. Specifically that supposed Malfoy she knew. She nodded an agreement, as much as she didn't really enjoy loads of homework, it did keep her occupied.
Her eyes wandered around, his eyes set her skin on fire. Delilah looked at the clock and her suddenly widened, it was midnight. She snapped her fingers. "Oh, I almost forgot." She spun on her heel and opened her door. Not waiting for her invite, he walked right in and raised a brow at the mess, clothes were everywhere and her bed a bundle of sheets. He leaned against the wall and watched as she tore her room apart even further, muttering curses as she went.
"Here it is, fucking hell." Her arm pulled out of a bag and she withdrew a small black box. She shuffled on her feet awkwardly before holding out her arm. "Saw it Hogsmeade when Pyrrhus took me to get my dress, thought you'd like it." Tom looked at her for a long moment, a peculiar glint in his coffee brown eyes before he looked at the box in her hand. "You got me a gift?" She nodded and gave him a nervous smile, regret crawling into her stomach. She realized it was a slightly odd gesture considering who the gift was for.
He slowly reached for it and pulled it out of her grasp. Sure, he's gotten loads of gifts forms a handful of girls, but this is Delilah. He narrowed his eyes then and pulled out his wand, triple checking just incase she hexed it. He ignored her offended look as he pulled off the top, one could never be too careful.
It was a cigarette case.
He lightly ran his fingers over the cold and bright silver, only dulled a bit by age. What really caught his eye was the intricate etchings. There was a coiled snake biting into an eagle, and the bird held what appeared to be acacia flowers in its beak. And there was elegant scrawl carved above the image. "Amor Vincit Omnia." He read in a whisper. It was Latin for 'Love Conquers All'.
He took it out of the box and it was surprisingly light, opening it his fingers touched soft black velvet lining. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his cigarettes and put them inside. "Thank you." A few seconds of silence passed between them. His senses felt slightly overwhelmed. Her entire room smelt like her, like peppermint. Delilah shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself and looked up at the ceiling fresco of the horses of the apocalypse, trying to give herself a distraction.
"Merry Christmas, Riddle."
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