The smell of nicotine greeted her as she woke up the next morning. Delilah attempted to get out of the stiff bed, but her leg was incredibly sore. Rubbing at her eyes, her vision blurred for a moment until she saw Tom standing across the room at a desk. A cigarette hung from his lips as he flipped through a book.

Though when he noticed she was up, he snapped the pages shut and walked over to the foot of the bed. "How's the leg?"

"Sore," she yawned. A few moments of stale silence passed, all the while Delilah watched the ash build up on the end of the cigarette. He kept running his hand through his hair, clearly wanting to say something. Rolling her eyes, Delilah sat up straight and threw a small pillow at him lightly. "Spit it out."

"Why did we end up here? You know we can't apparate on Hogwarts grounds."

Closing her eyes, Delilah wasn't in the mood to have this conversation. She couldn't very well tell him the truth, despite how much strain not doing so was causing. "I know that."

"Then why are we here?" He had a few theories, most notably two. The first was she retreated to the one place she knew well enough, and safe at, which was Hogwarts. She had no where else to go at the moment, and the castle was her first option. He wasn't so different, Hogwarts was his home, or at least the closest thing to it. However, why would she go through the trouble to apparate away from him? Why not just leave the room?

His second theory made a fire burn within him; she had left him to see Dumbledore. Tom knew Delilah and the old man were close, but the notion that she was so quick to depart from him to see the man he despised threatened to make him furious.

Tom watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, contemplating how she would answer- or if she would answer at all and he bit the inside of his cheek. Letting out a long breath, Tom walked away to stub out the cigarette and rubbed the back of his neck. "Seeing as I won't get a response out of you concerning this, what about Harry Potter, hm?"

Her head snapped up and she looked at him, disbelief at how he was still latching onto this subject, "really?"

A scoff departed from his mouth as he gestured to her, "just because your leg got mangled doesn't mean I forgot. You have yet to give me a proper answer. What are you not telling me?"

"Tom honestly, drop it."

"Why?"

"Please."

He pulled back quickly from the desk, his hands tugging at his hair by the roots. Delilah frowned as she saw his jaw strain, he appeared to be shaking with anger. Her brows furrowed as she watched him, he was pacing but his movements were jerky and erratic, like he was trying to control himself.

"For Merlin's sake, why does it matter?"

"Fucking hell, Delilah-" his shout was punctuated with sound of his fist slamming into the wall. "Because if he has one of the Deathly Hallows, I can take it!"

Delilah hated that she flinched.

"I can pull the cloak right from under Grindelwald's nose, putting me one step ahead of him and death itself." His voice was a thunderous roar, the shock of it making the windows almost shutter in their frames. Or perhaps that was just her imagination, her head was spinning.

"What do you mean, 'death itself,' Tom... you cant be serious?"

His chest was rising and falling heavily, black eyes boring into hers with a strained expression. In the silence, everything seemed to scream. The draft of air, wailing of floorboards, flicker of a flame, a bird outside, the rustle of fabric, even their own breathing.

Delilah felt like tearing at her own skin would provide a better comfort than the atmosphere she was currently being drowned by. She stood from the bed on shaking legs, taking a cautious step forward, but a pain shot through her as Tom leaned away.

He bowed his head, his fists clenched at his sides as he attempted to calm his breathing. She watched him, wary, feeling as if he might snap at her or punch the wall again.

"You and I," he began after a moment, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. "Your body clock is frozen, you don't- you won't wither with age. And if I possess all the Hallows we can have an infinity with one another. Think of it... we'd be gods."

Delilah simply stared at him, not necessarily in disbelief, just, she didn't know. She couldn't comprehend the weight of what he was suggesting.

"Will you help me?" he said.

Blinking away the haziness she felt, Delilah swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth. She didn't trust her words however. Tom raised his head from its bowed position, his expression was that of young and perplexed pain.

He repeated himself, "will you help me?"

Walking back, Delilah sat herself down on the end of the bed, her eyes staring at the new scars that littered her thigh. "What you're asking of me- it's," she took a deep breath before looking up at him.

"Going after such ambitious will tear you apart. Physically and mentally. You'd be turning your back on Mother Nature. That's a death sentence. Why are you so quick to deny me a risk of my life while you saunter towards yours?"

She could see the gears turning behind his eyes, contemplating how he would answer.

Delilah honestly didn't know how this would end, but at the moment there wasn't a hopeful outcome in her sights. She'd watched him grow, so much. Like she said, he was a fighter. Tom had cuts all over him, metaphorically or not, all because he fought too hard.

"You are in over your head, for God's sake don't let your pride and fear blind you." When she was met with no response she let her head fall into her hands. She had watched him go through so much change, the amount equating to a mountain that he was able to move before pounding back into the ground again. And the cycle would repeat.

Delilah had watched him, as well as the rest of the boys... really anyone in her life, fight in the highs of their belief. All to forget their fears and to keep the ones they love safe. However, the obstacle he was willing to challenge was what would lead to his downfall. She couldn't watch that happen, it would break her.

"Will you help me, or not?"

A weight so hefty fell on her then, making her whole body ache. "Tom-"

"Help me or leave."

She gaped at him, "what?"

"Help we retrieve the invisibility cloak, help me with this task, or leave."

A scream of agitation left her then, how desperately she wanted to tell him that Harry hadn't even been born yet, that someone else in their family line probably had the cloak at that moment. But she couldn't. "Why can't you understand that I can't. I can't. I physically can't."

He clicked his tongue, "I don't believe you."

"Are you serious right now?"

He stared at her, the inky blackness of his eyes seeming to melt into an abyss.

"Leave where, hm? Where are you going to head off to? Where do you expect me to go?"

"Home," the word left his mouth before he could think properly. He immediately regretted it, but he wouldn't take it back. Tom kept telling himself it had to be said, this is how things had to be.

She froze. He didn't know what he was saying, he was angry, he didn't mean it. He couldn't mean it. Delilah swallowed, the movement burning her throat, "you're acting like a child."

"Perhaps," Tom rubbed at his cheek for a moment before shoving his hands in his pockets, "but I've had enough of the secrecy. Tell me the truth, tell me everything... or leave."

Delilah had always been told there's a moment she'd reach where she had to decide between doing what's right and what's easy. A statement of such weight shouldn't be so vague. If going home was the right thing to do, she'd be leaving him and the stronger self she's created. She couldn't bare to lose him, the thought made her physically sick. But she'd be seeing her family again, and her friends, helping the wizarding world from a terrible fate. She'd be in the time where she rightfully belonged.

Though, staying with him wasn't the easy route, not in the slightest. And in her gut, staying with him felt right. The wholeness she felt at his side was uncanny. But if she was to stay, she'd be leaving all she knew behind, her brother, her friends and Harry.

Either way, it was betrayal.

An ache so profound settled deep within her, rattling her bones with the sheer force of its great weight. The universe was demanding something from her, her happiness, and all Delilah wanted to do was stand up tall and scream no.

She knew she couldn't, life didn't work that way.

Standing up, every step she took towards him felt like she was severing something, and it hurt. There was less than four inches between them as she rested a hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.

"I can't," her voice barely above a whisper. His eyes had developed a gloss as realization of what she just said hit him, but no tears were to be shed.

As he watched her walk towards the door, Tom desperately wanted to reach out, hold onto her, and make it work. They cared for one another, that was true. Tom cared for her in a way he never thought he was capable of.

It wasn't enough.

To go on, he needed her to give him everything. Perhaps in due time, he'd give her all of him in return. He's already given Delilah more of himself than he was comfortable with, but it was necessary. Yet still, it wasn't enough. Nothing ever would be. If he was anyone else, things would be fine. Life would be easier, and he could live a life with her without ailments.

If only he was someone else, if only he was Elio. He could make her happy, give her a life she could actually enjoy. A life that didn't ask anything from her but love and affection.

Tom couldn't function like that, he needed to know things in order to keep moving forward. He needed to know her yet she retreated, even if it was at the cost of their entire relationship. He offered her the chance to stay, his only request being she told him the truth.

But she walked out the door.

In that moment he hated himself. If reaching his ultimate goal, to overcome death, was won at the price of losing her.

Was it worth it?

Such a question knocked the wind out of him, making him feel dizzy. Alarms went off in his mind as the reality of Delilah actually leaving dawned on him. All his efforts had been to get her to stay, yet Tom had made her go.

He ran out the door.

His feet pounded down the old, decaying wooden steps, towards the end he skipped the last few and landed with a thud before taking off through the pub. There were some early morning customers, but none paid him any mind. Tom caught a spare glance at Aberforth, the old man winked at him with one twinkling eye before downing a tankard. He didn't have time to dwell on the action as he shot through the door.

Skidding to a halt, Tom turned in a circle, hoping she hadn't decided to apparate away. Turning to the left, some relief filled him at the sight of Delilah, she was half way down the street.

"Delilah!"

Whirling around, her eyes widened slightly as she realized he was running towards her. She was still cautious, she couldn't see his face clearly so whether or not he was angry was lost on her. However as he grew closer, his features looked slightly crestfallen. Tom came to a stop in front of her, panting slightly and Delilah cautiously stepped closer.

He squeezed his eyes shut. If he wanted this, and he did, he'd have to break the heavy chain that kept him tied to his pride.

"At the very least, and I beg you, tell me why you can't tell me."

Biting at her bottom lip, she looked at the clouds above them before looking at him. He'd come after her, that had to amount to something.

She recalled the night they shared on that bridge. The absolute splendor of it. The feeling of belongingness that transpired between them. She recalled the realization she had had only a day prior- of how she truly felt about him, her soon to be fallen angel lest he went on this dark path he so desperately craved to journey down.

"Close your eyes," he looked at her in question, and Delilah mustered up a soft smile, one he was thankful to see. "Please." Slowly, he did as told.

Stepping closer, she rested a finger under his chin and tilted his head up, "do you feel that? The light of the sun on your eyelids?" His brows furrowed, but after a moment he nodded.

"The sun has been here longer than any of us, long before the earth even existed, and it will be there long after everything is gone, it defies time itself, at least the construct of it. It's been witness to so much. Everything that ever happened to us. People we love, people we lost. People we found against all the odds." Dropping her hand, Tom opened his eyes and looked down at her. Entranced. The gleam of the sun appeared to make her hair golden, more so than it already was. Her cheeks were still flushed, he from the warmness of air or their argument that had just transpired.

"This fear you have," Delilah placed a hand on his chest, directly above his heart, letting the beat of it sink into her. "I don't know how else I can say this, but you shouldn't fear death. For it is natural and defines us. You, your body, all the elements were forged over a millennia ago, in the heart of a far away star that exploded and died-"

"Why are you telling me this?" Lifting his hand to rest on top of hers, Tom felt the coolness of her skin but didn't bother to move it.

Biting her cheek, she too turned to look up at the sun, the blinding light now temporarily blocked by a dark gray cloud. It was going to rain. "That explosion scattered those elements across the desolations of space, all over the infinite vastness of it. After so many millions of years, these elements came together to form new stars, new planets. And onwards it went, again and again. The elements came together and burst apart, forming clothes and ships and books, and roses and kingdoms. Until eventually, they came together to make you."

Stepping closer, Delilah had to fully tilt her head up to look at him. They seemed to become true in that moment, realization that they were falling through space together grasping at their hearts.

"You, Tom Riddle, are unique in the universe." Lifting her other hand, she cupped the back of his head, rubbing her fingers lightly through his hair. "Don't defy the very divinity that created you, or else nature will turn her back on you, just as well everyone else. That's a sacrifice you shouldn't make."

He looked down at her for a long moment, his senses were currently going off in a frenzy at the feel of her touch. Part of him understood what she was saying, but he had lived his entire life wanting to overcome death. He had devoted everything to the cause, he couldn't just toss that away so quickly. "What if it's needed?"

"If you achieve this, immortality, everyone around you will turn to ash. And eventually it will bare to be too much. Even for you. That isn't a sacrifice. That's a waste."

The conflicting expression that twisted his features was painful, was he really willing to give up everything? It sounded selfish to her own mind but, was he really willing to give up her? Sighing through her nose, Delilah let her head fall forward and rest against his chest. "You're not running from death, Tom. You're running from life."

Finally, after such a long time from preventing this, she was ready to give him somewhat of an answer. "I know things," she sniffed slightly, merely just to have her body be doing something. Tom stiffened, nearly unsure if he was ready.

In all honestly, he didn't know what to expect.

"Back home, people live in terror of a man, of his judgement and of his wrath." She took Tom's hands in hers and walked over to a bakery that still had its chairs and tables set up outside. Once they got seated, Tom didn't bother to let go of her hold.

"Some, like the woman you saw, Bellatrix, devoted themselves to him. Gave up everything, including their humanity. And with this following he believes himself to be a god."

Her mouth went dry slightly as his thumb ran over her knuckles.

"But he isn't. He's a parasite eaten by envy, fear, and longing for life eternal. Feeling as if he eradicates them, he's lived one moment longer than someone else. He feeds off this dogma. Off the memory every one of his victims hold; love, loss, birth, death, happiness and sorrow."

She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted but she had to keep going. He had to understand why she was saying all this.

"I thought I had walked away from the war when I came here, but I didn't. I was just thrown into a different battle, one played by completely different rules. I've seen the birth of fear in a new generation that was once filled with hope and youth, yet it was torn away so quickly. Forcing myself and those around me to grow up. I've seen governments topple, and I've marked a list of those I once knew who are dead. All because of him."

All because of you, the voice in her head sounded so weak and pathetic that she wanted to slap herself. Her inner judgement was wrong, not because of him, but the creature he will become.

However, if she wanted this done right, she had to accept the truth. Delilah turned her gaze to him, forcing herself to solely focus on his face, the one she's so grown to admire. Yet she had to remember, there were no beautiful surfaces without terrible depth.

"I know such terrible things, things that would make you go mad and that would topple your world. I have secrets that I can never divulge. Tom, I have lost so much, to an extent I don't think you're capable of understanding. And the knowledge bestowed on me, even how unwilling I want to have it, it's engraved in my head. Knowledge that would make a man such as the one who tore my life apart burn."

Delilah squeezed his hand, "And the worst part is, I see him in you sometimes and it terrifies me, but mostly it breaks my heart."

He wanted to reassure her, but even he could admit the similarities she had laid out. That man who everyone feared had everything Tom wanted. A following, a terror imbedded into everyone, a submission. Yet, the way Delilah was looking at him caused a chord to strike deep in his chest, vibrating at such an intensity that his ears rung. Tom didn't want to be that for her, "I'm not him." His voice was a rasp and he cleared his throat.

"I know, but if you choose to go down this road of corruption, you will be. And this is the alternative, whether you like it or not; I'll turn to dust at your feet one day, whether this body clock loop is removed or not, and you'll wondering where the time went."

Or perhaps he'd be so far gone in his own madness that he'd laugh as he stood over her grave. The likeliness is that happening was too high for comfort. Anger gripped at her then, burning and unwarranted, "is your hatred for the world so goddamn important that it blinds you to everything else?"

He blinked at her, suddenly exhausted, "you don't understand-"

"What? What don't I understand? Is immortality so important, that you'd leave everything and anyone who even remotely cares about you?"

She stood up, she needed to be moving or else she'd explode. Delilah paced, her shoes scuffing along the cobblestone with more force than necessary. However she never noticed Tom get up, and when she felt his hand on her shoulder she pushed him away. He did nothing to defend himself.

"Immortality isn't living forever, Tom. You lose a part of yourself over time. You lose things, people over time. You'll be the only thing standing when the rest of the world fades. And then what?" She shoved him back again, this time with both arms and he slammed into the wall of the bakery, the old wood groaning in protest at the force. "What will happen when everyone else is dead? You'll have no more people to rule over, to torture, no one to inflict your pain on. What will you do then? Stand over my grave and laugh at the girl who was foolish enough to care so deeply for you?" She continued to hit him in the chest, though her force was weakening and he tried a few times to catch her fist before he was able to stop her. He'd no doubt have a bruise or two, but that was the least of his worries.

Delilah took a deep breath as she looked up at him, she'd lost her temper. Though her frustration was still high so she didn't think it would do well to dwell on the fact. "I have loved you through everything. Even after I found out who you truly are. And you're willing to throw it away?"

Tom went catatonic instantly, his eyes glazed over as he looked at her, though he didn't seem to register her presence. His breathing went still, his chest barely moving. Delilah was confused with this sudden shift of behavior, only realizing why until after a moment it dawned on her.

Neither spoke for almost ten minutes, Tom still had a tight grip on her hands, but the feeling of his senses had drained away into a cesspool of numbness. His mouth was dry, and it took all his energy to swallow and lick his lips slightly before speaking.

"You love me?"

His mind was reeling. How was this even possible? How could she? So much wanted to spew from his mouth, pure venom just waiting to drip off his tongue. And it should've, it'd save them both, despite the pain that would insue.

He wanted to say love was an illusion, an ideal people try so desperately to grasp. That Delilah wasn't in love with him, she was in love with the idea of him. That he was someone no one could get close to, he shut himself off, he was clever, cunning, and mysterious as so many people have put it. And of course she would be attracted to that, and she was not at fault. But Delilah was not in love with him. She wanted to be, but she couldn't.

There was nothing to love.

Instead, his voice stumbled out words in a whisper that cracked, "you didn't mean to say that. You can take it back."

Delilah's eyes looked terrified, and brighter than he'd ever seen them. His heart started to beat awfully fast as he shook his head, mostly at himself.

"Please take it back."

Saying it out loud felt like a punch to her gut, yet at the same time relief filled her. Delilah had never felt this way towards anyone before, and never in a million years did she think the term would fall to him. But the universe had a funny, cruel, way of doing things. "Tom-"

"You don't love me."

She placed her hands on the sides of his face and tilted his head down, pressing her forehead to his. Delilah knew he must be confused, hell, she was. However in that moment he looked like he had just been petrified. His eyes searched hers for an answer he wasn't sure he wanted, "why?"

Running her thumb along his cheekbone, she bummed in thought for a moment. "To be quite honest, I don't know. I don't know how or when. But I do know I'm willing to give you more of myself than I probably should. And even if you decide to toss me to the side and pursue this wish of yours... I will love you. Though it will kill me."

He gripped at her hands almost to the point where it was painful, "if that is love, why on earth would you want it?"

"Love and reason keep little company together." She echoed the words Dumbledore had told her all those months ago. Oh how easily she had dismissed them, if only she knew. "However, I have faith in you. Truly, I do. Please, don't go down this path of destruction. And don't do it for me, I know that's not incentive enough, so do it to save yourself."

Tom Riddle was frightened.

She couldn't feel like that about him, she just couldn't. For one, he never believed in the fictitious notion of such an emotion, and he didn't understand it. All it ever did was cause pain and chaos, so why let ones self succumb? Though, he's never heard a story where falling to such a level of admiration was a choice. Nonetheless, he simply couldn't believe Delilah could feel such a way about him, he couldn't. He didn't want her suffering any further by his hand, and that's all this 'loving him' would do.

After all, love was what killed his mother.

"When you leave-"

"Tom-"

"No, listen to me. You're going to be leaving soon, and though I don't want you to, I know you will. Because that's who you are, selfless, and it's insufferable. What I'm getting at is, for the time being while you're here with me, sure, I can handle it. I'll stop this obsession." Taking her hand away from his face, he placed a chaste kiss on the inside of her palm.

"But the Ministry is less than a month away, after you leave I'm afraid my self control will go with you."

She closed her eyes, she needed a moment to think. If she did decide to stay, and he kept true to his word and ended this obsession with cheating death, Voldemort would cease to exist. Millions of lives would be saved... Harry would have his parents back.

Would she be risking too much? Delilah would be rewriting the timeline, the second wizarding war would have never happened. What if another dark lord popped up in Voldemort's place? Not mention all the paradoxes that would ensue.

She would have never been tortured, never would have been on the run, never would have gone to the Ministry, never would have gotten sent back in time, never would have met Tom. Yet it still happened. So if she did decide to stay, would she fade from existing?

She'd be rewriting the history of so many lives. Who was she to hold such a power? Her head spun with the weight of the situation, but she forced herself to smile.

"We'll figure it out, I promise."

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Please VOTE & COMMENT if you enjoyed!!!

I watched "The King" yesterday and I loved it! Timothée's performance was amazing and the ending battle was beautiful (I'll admit the pacing was a little off for me and some of the other fight scenes weren't as violent as I would've liked but that's just my preference) but I highly recommend watching it! It's on Netflix and it's about King Henry V and his ascendance to the throne and the war with France