She walked with the boys back to the common room, they held light and amusing conversation. At one point Pyrrhus said something and Elio put him in a headlock. They laughed loudly and Tom shook his head at the sight of them. They were utter children. He eyed Delilah and saw she held a look of amusement and, something else. He didn't know what.

  As Delilah watched them rough house she couldn't help but think of Harry and Ron messing about. Of Blaise and Draco at each other's throats with half hearted petty insults. How Fred and George would somehow slip into an all out prank war. Or when Delilah and her brother Harrison would bicker. She missed them dearly.

  "Well, goodnight." She told them and they all waved as she walked down the hall. Once Tom heard was sure she was up the stairs, he turned to the rest of the boys. He kept his voice down since other students were filing into the common room. "Meeting at midnight." He said and they all nodded obediently. With that he turned and left for the Head Boys dormitory.

  Once Delilah got into her room, she spotted two girls on their respective beds. Her own bed was remade and a fresh uniform was laid on top. She walked over and felt the fabric. It was a grey pleated skirt, a nice white button down, a grey knitted vest with a green accent on the neck line, a green tie, tights, knee socks that had a trim of lace, leather shoes with a slight heel, and her robes.

  She picked up her school robes and examined them with interest. She was used to hers having the Ravenclaw symbol and accent of royal blue.

  "You're the new girl." A voice suddenly said and Delilah spun around, her hand gripping her wand in her pocket. She relaxed as she noted it was one of her roommates. "Yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I am. I'm Delilah, nice to meet you." The girl was pale and had long, raven black hair and dark eyes. She looked Delilah over for a minute before smiling. It was small, but it was there. "I like your shoes." She commented and Delilah looked down at her red converse. Right, she'd have to store those away for now. "I'm Lolita Tremblay." Lolita nodded towards the other girl. Delilah's eyes shifted over to her and found that the brunette was glaring at her. "That's Olive Hornby. She's a tad bitter at the moment, ignore her."

  "She, can hear you." Olive huffed and made her way over. "I don't trust new people, don't take it to heart, dear." Olive eyed her over as well and Delilah shifted a bit on her feet. "Right well, nice to meet you both. I'm just gonna hop in the bathroom." She went to her dresser and was delighted to see they provided her with bedwear as well. Probably thanks to Dumbledore. She noted to thank him next time she saw him.

  After a quick wash, she changed into the clothes and laughed at herself in the mirror. The pants were light and airy and reached her mid calf, and the shirt was of the same material. Delilah knew she'd grow to miss just sleeping in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

  Ten till midnight rolled around the corner and the boys snuck their way out of the common room to the Head Boy's. The Head Girl was doing her rounds so the common room was to themselves. When they entered, Tom was already sat in a large chair off to the side of the fireplace. "Question." He said simply and the boys fell silent. "What do we think of Miss Delilah Pontmercy?" They eyed each other warily before Rosier cleared his throat. "She seems nice, my lord. And based off her classes, smart." Tom hummed and his fingers twirled his wand elegantly.

  "Yes, intelligent." He wondered if she possibly bought her way into N.E.W.T classes, like Malfoy, but her last name wasn't of any reputable wealth. In fact, he's never even heard of it. So she was most likely a halfblood or muggle born. He wasn't going to rush to bringing this to attention, though. Again, there was something off about her. Something wrong. She carried herself too carefully and always seemed to think too much before she spoke.

  "Keep an eye on her." The boys looked at each other but nodded, in unison they spoke, "yes, my lord." Tom eyed them all and he let a sigh pass his lips. "Now, to more pressing matters. This is our last year, and although Dumbledore said he'd consider me for a position, he's clearly lying. He's good at hiding everything except his disdain for me." Just thinking about the man set off a fire inside Tom. Everything would be working much more smoothly if he never admitted to how he enjoyed hurting people to get what he wanted. He was naive and a fool when he first met Dumbledore.

Tom rubbed his eyes as the memory shot its way forward. He'd just turned eleven and a strange man showed up at the orphanage asking to speak with him. He was currently being confined to his room because he'd gotten in trouble for stealing a kids ball. All he wanted to do was borrow it, but the boy wouldn't give it to him, so he got angry and suddenly the boy was thrown back and the ball was in his hand. Tom had started to realize he was different from the other kids. That he was special. But his so called talent always seemed to get him in trouble. Then this man came into his room and smiled at him, and Tom felt that same aura of strangeness surrounding him. Tom immediately took a liking to Dumbledore, funny enough. Although Tom already knew he was something abstract from usual kids, Dumbledore confirmed his theory. He'd told him he could do magic and a genuine, cheerful laugh escaped his lungs.

  But then it went downhill from there. Tom showed Dumbledore how he could light his dresser on fire, how he could take things if he wanted them, how he could make people hurt. And that glimmer left Dumbledore's eyes as concern shielded them. As Dumbledore was leaving, Tom panicked, thinking he wouldn't let him attend this lovely school he'd called Hogwarts. He told Dumbledore he could talk to snakes. That then sealed his fate, Dumbledore would never grow to trust Tom.

  He sneered and pushed the flashback away. He couldn't believe he could be so stupid. But he supposed it had to happen. There was no going back to change it. If he would have never told Dumbledore of his little talent, he might have never been allowed to come to Hogwarts. He'd never tell anyone, but this castle was his home. And he was indebted to it.

  "About this summer," he began and watched as the boys tensed. "Malfoy, Rosier, are you still able to go to France?" They both nodded. "My parents have left me the summer house, as a graduation gift of sorts. If we need to regroup, it's available." Elio said and Tom appraised him silently. "Good, if I am correct, that's where Grindelwald will be passing time. Lestrange and Avery, you will be stationed back in London for the time being. Grindelwald still does not trust you Lestrange, thanks to your lovely aunt." Pyrrhus shivered and clenched his jaw.

  His aunt Leta had gone against Grindelwald and was killed in the Lestrange Mausoleum. His parents always told him about it, how she'd been a blood traitor.

  Despite anyone else's knowledge, he had a news clipping back from 1927, the year she died. She was between two men of the Scamander line and she was to be married to Newt. Though, he supposed she died before they ever could. He also had a copy of Newt Scamander's book he'd kept meaning to get signed. He wanted to meet Newt and ask about Leta. But his family would disown him and he could never work up the courage.

  "Do you think it's true, then?" Abraxas asked and Tom lazily rolled his head to the side to look at him. "Do I think what is true?"

  Abraxas shifted his weight and tried his best to look Tom in the eyes. It might've only been five seconds, but to Abraxas an enternity passed. He seemed to shrink under Tom's heavy, scrutinizing gaze. His dark eyes were usually passive when they were in public, but in the privacy of their meetings something darker, something more dangerous, teased its way to the surface.

  Abraxas looked away and Tom felt his lips tug upwards in a smirk. "That Grindelwald has the Elder Wand." Abraxas finished. Tom sighed and looked away from him and into the fire. "Yes, if my research is correct. And it always is. Apparently, Grindelwald took it from Gregorovitch, who murdered Antioch Peverell. And at the age of around nineteen, maybe early twenties." Tom ran his fingers over his own wand delicately. If he were to obtain the ownership of the Elder Wand, which he was going to do, he didn't think he could so easily give up his own. He'd still keep it with him no doubt.

  The thought seemed foolish, but he had a connection to it. Well, no, it wasn't foolish. Ollivander had told him the wand chooses the wizard. Tom remembered the joy and pride he felt when Ollivander told him he was the first person to ever have a Phoenix feather core. Furthermore proving that he was special, that he was different.

  Cain cleared his throat and Tom blinked, realizing he hadn't spoken for nearly five minutes. "Dismissed." He waved his hand and they bowed their heads before leaving. He nestled further into the chair as he stared at the fire, digging into his jacket pocket he pulled out a packet of muggle cigarettes. He'd gotten addicted to the nasty things over the summer at the orphanage, but as long as no one knew he didn't see a problem.

  Standing up, he rolled his shoulders and made his way to his room. The Head Boy had his own quarters. It was a large room, much bigger than that of the regular dorms. His was about the size of two put together, he had a large bed with black silk sheets and emerald green velvet curtains. The floor was a dark wood and he had his own fireplace. In front of it was a couch and chair, both a black leather, for simple lounging. To the left was a desk and a small bookshelf. On the right was his dresser.

  He walked over to his large window and propped it open, resting his elbows in the edge, he snapped his fingers and they caught fire. A clever use of wandless magic he picked up at Malfoy Manor one Christmas, and he lit the cigarette. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled smoke through his nose as his eyes danced around the quiet grounds of Hogwarts.

  The next morning, Delilah stumbled out of bed at the break of dawn. She wasn't used to a school time table anymore. Seeing as she's been a bit too busy trying not to die. She failed at that, she supposed. As she zipped up her skirt she frowned in the mirror. What she would give to get her sweatpants back. It was still dark outside and she blindly stumbled into the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. Olive didn't really seem to like her that much, so Delilah didn't want to provide a reason for the girl to hex her in her sleep.

  Rubbing at her eyes till black dots appeared, Delilah yawned and quickly brushed her teeth. The library was first on her list, she wanted to do some research on time travel. And if it came down to it, she'd even poke around the restricted section. Delilah wasn't too worried about that, Dumbledore would surely give her permission.

  She grabbed her shoes and tip toed out of the room, figuring she'd just put them on in the common room so she wouldn't make noise on the wood. She sat down on one of the couches and found herself sinking into the plush comforter. After lacing the shoes up, they had about a two inch heel, which she found ridiculous, she made her way out of the Dungeons.

  She used one of the shortcuts she knew to get to the library without anyone seeing her. Delilah was too tired to bump into one of the boys and explain how she knew how to get to the library. Peaking open the door, Delilah let out a sigh at the familiar smell of books. The Library was identical to the one in her time. Save for there was no Madam Pince breathing down the necks of students. The sun was rising so warm orange-pink light filtered through the high windows. The tables were empty and Delilah felt alone all the sudden. But she was at peace with the feeling.

  It felt like she was the only one in the world and this was her safe haven. The books sat on the shelves longing for her to pick them up as her fingers ran over the spines lightly. For the first time since she's been in the past, she felt at home again. Hogwarts was her home. But this one was just so vastly different. The people were different. The uniforms were different. Dumbledore was different. She was different. Delilah had to become someone else here. She still had her first name and her thoughts. But everything else changed. How she had to act, how she had to hold herself, her background, her house, even how she ate.

  And oh yes, she had to be incredibly careful. She mentally thanked Hermione for forcing her to take Occlumens seriously. Who knows? Someone could get too curious about her and try to read her mind. Then they'd see her memories. They'd see the inferno that the future becomes. They'd get scared. And when people get scared they lash out. Which could lead to a few different endings. They could pity her, which Delilah did not want. They could try to help her get back to the future, though she didn't think they would, seeing as the future is a literal hell. But no, they shouldn't help, because that could change the future and so many lives would be at risk. They could kill her in an act of fear. They could use her for information. They could hurt her.

  A headache pricked at her mind. It was all too much and too early to be wondering about all the 'what if's'. She didn't want to stress about it, but that was inevitable. She had to worry about getting back to her time. If she didn't, she'd be stuck in place she didn't belong. And again, she could drastically, monumentally, destroy the space time continuum. Not that the current future isn't messed up as is, but it could get a lot worse

  She had a stack of about eight books and the weight was straining on her arms, causing her hands to cramp and she sat on the floor in one of the isles. It was only about six in the morning, so nobody else should be up for another two hours. She lit a torch that was on the wall near her and began to read. There were many different theories but none of them so far were conclusive. She huffed and slammed the third book shut. "Fucking ridiculous, I swear. Do none of these idiots have a single unique thought?" She muttered to herself and nearly screamed when someone chuckled.

  Delilah looked up and saw Tom leaning against the bookshelf about ten feet away. His hands were tucked into his pockets and one leg was crossed over the other at the ankle. He looked down at her through his long lashes and curiosity and amusement flickered in his eyes. Delilah silently appreciated the uniforms of the forties at Hogwarts. They were nice, dark grey suits, that fit Tom's toned form quite nicely. "Why're you here?" The question left her mouth before she gave it much thought, her tone accusatory. "And good morning." Delilah quickly added and tucked some hair behind her ear.

  Tom watched as she looked up at him through her own long lashes. He'd only just noticed how richly dark blue her eyes were. He mused silently at her blunt question and watched as she instantly regretted it. Interesting that she seemed to panic. "Good morning." He laughed lightly and tilted his head. "And I'm here because I had an essay to work on. May I ask why you are here?" Delilah watched as his curls swayed with the movement of his head.

  "Just some light reading."

  He raised a brow and indicated towards her large stack of books, the height nearly went up to her shoulders. "Light reading?" She flushed and picked up another book, as she did so she grabbed her wand and lightly flicked it, so as to disguise the titles. She inwardly cringed once she saw they all changed to sappy romance novels. Note, she didn't mind reading those from time to time, but the amused and- disappointed? The look he was giving her made Delilah blush even more. He hid the disappointment quickly but she was an observant girl. "I was bored." She shrugged and with the wave of her wand the books went back to their original places.

  "What time is it?" She asked and he looked at his pocket watch that was attached to his, again, well fitted vest. "Around seven thirty. Shall I walk you to breakfast?" Delilah stared for a moment at the hand he held out, his skin was pale and his fingers long. As she placed her hand in his, she felt the roughened skin on his thumb and index finger. Her hand was considerably smaller than his as it fully clasped around it. Tom tugged her gently upward and ignored just how cold she was. Perhaps it was bad circulation? He let go of her but his eyes flickered to her hands again. They weren't just cold, they felt as if they've been dumped into a bucket of ice.

  His eyes dragged up to her face and Delilah fought down a chill that ravished up her back. His face was calculating and dark. "Shall we?" He held out his arm and Delilah eyed it confused before it dawned on her. Right, men were chivalrous back then. "Oh, yes. Of course." She cleared her throat and picked up her bag, only to have it nicked from her hands. "Allow me." He smiled at her and she blinked at him in astonishment.

  Men were really chivalrous back then.

  She looped her arm through his and he led the way to the Great Hall, carrying her bag as they went.