Sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, Delilah was playing a rather tedious game of trying to understand how chess worked. She'd sat there dumbfounded as Septimus tried to explain it to her, but she gave up and thought she ought to just watch.

So currently she was observing Aleksander and Septimus play, both focused and extremely well versed in the game. Part of her knew Weasley would win, he was related to Ron after all.

And Merlin was that boy ridiculously good at chess.

As expected, Septimus won. He wore a subtlety cocky grin as he stood up and stretched. "Well this has been fun, but I'm afraid I have some studying to get to."

Delilah snorted, trying to picture Ron studying by choice. Septimus raised a brow at her but she waved a hand, "sorry, you just reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

Her eyes danced along the freckles that scattered his cheeks, his fiery red hair, and his crooked smile, "an old friend."

After he left, she turned to Aleksander, a million questions running through her head. He was sitting on the floor, leaned against the couch and he gestured to the spot next to him. He barely missed a beat, the moment she sat down next to him, his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Go on and spit it out," he grinned at her, making Delilah's cheeks heat up slightly, they were oddly close. "Spit what out?" Her brow was raised and she pretended to reach for a book, a weak attempt at getting some space between them.

"You've got questions, I can see it in your eyes. You're not as good at hiding things as you think you are."

That statement rested on her shoulders uneasily, but she simply cleared her throat as she craned her neck towards him. He was strangely attractive, but his looks seemed made up, in a sense. Like that of a model.

Tom's beauty was more natural.

Delilah grimaced at her thoughts, shaking her head and focusing as much as she could on the boy in front of her. "Aleksander-"

"Alek, please." His lips always seemed to be pulled into a small grin, something that was rather charming but gave off the aura of concealed mischief. "Alek," Delilah said slowly, trying the name out on her tongue.

"Tell me about your brother, has he responded to your owl yet?"

"What owl?"

She stared at him pointedly, not amused in the slightest and he let out a dry laugh. "No he has yet to respond, it's only been three days, he's usually slow with these sorts of things. I'd expect a response in a day or two, don't worry." He plucked a chess piece off the board, rolling it between his fingers as his eyes became unfocused for a moment.

"He's a down right arse though, so him willing to help us is a fifty-fifty shot, I don't want you getting your hopes up," Alek nudged her lightly in the side, his grin slowly slipping from his lips. Delilah knew that look all too well, "family trouble?"

"Do you have an older sibling?"

After her nod, he sighed slightly through his nose, his dark eyes focused on the chess piece in hand; the King. "Well, being eldest comes with a certain narcissism, apparently. And being the youngest means you always get compared. Then eventually it gets to a certain point where you purposely want to screw up, sort of as a "fuck you" to mum and dad." He set the piece down on the board, watching the way the figure moved.

"That's sort of where I am right now, my reckless phase. I'm tired of living in his shadow." With a flick of his finger, the King fell over and he looked at her, a genuine smile tilting at his lips. "I want to do something myself, something for myself, something monumental."

Humming in understanding, Delilah twirled her necklace between her fingers. "Well when you put it like that, I've apparently been in my reckless phase for eighteen years now," they shared a glance before breaking into a small fit of laughter. She didn't know Alek too well, but from the time she spent with him, she's enjoyed herself.

"You're going to have to teach me French before summer gets here," he mused, watching how the sunlight through the large windows caught in her golden hair. "Sure, but how'd you know I spoke French?" Alek shrugged slightly and he tugged on one of her stray curls playfully.

"One of the girls told me, Olive's her name, I think?" There was a slight flush to his cheeks then and he scratched the back of his neck. "Anyway,"

"Wait a minute," she held up a hand, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at him. "Alek do you... do you fancy Olive?"

His brows furrowed and he shook his head, a little too quickly in her opinion. "What? No. Where'd you get that idea?" He was obviously flustered so she didn't push the subject further, but Delilah sat back with a knowing smile on her lips.

____________________________________

It took Delilah nearly ten minutes to work up the courage to go and talk to him. The only reason why she was currently speed walking through the library to get to him is because he started to pack his things.

Taking a breath once she reached him, his back turned to her as he shoved his scrolls inside his satchel, Delilah tapped his shoulder, "Elio?"

If anyone could tell her the truth, it would be him.

He whirled around, a surprised look on his face before he settled his expression into something more neutral. "Evening, Del," his tone was polite but something was still off. He just didn't feel the same, being around him didn't feel like it used to, it nearly felt forced.

Clearing her throat, she scratched at the back of her neck, "evening, um." She trailed, not knowing exactly how to start this conversation. In truth, Delilah wanted to find a way to ask him without bringing up Tom, but part of her knew that was impossible.

Raising a brow expectantly, Elio shifted on his feet as he waited for her to say whatever she was trying to piece together in her head. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, Delilah realized there would be no easy way to tiptoe around this.

"Do you know what happened with Xan and Katerina. And were the boys involved?" The look on his face was completely unphased, he simply registered the question before shrugging. "No, they get caught shagging or something," he grinned slightly in amusement, but it fell once he saw the dark glimmer of seriousness in her eyes.

"So you know nothing about..." She trailed and gestured to her back.

Elio suddenly went stiff, he recognized that gesture. That was the same thing Abraxas had done when he told the boys Delilah had found out about... "shit."

Delilah's eyes widened, her heart picking up its pace, "so you do know?"

Grinding his teeth together to the point where his jaw ached, Elio slung his bag over his shoulder, "no, people tend to like to keep me in the dark. Why don't you ask Riddle, since he seems to tell you everything?" He snapped, making Delilah lean back slightly, her brows slightly raised.

"Sorry," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. Pulling his hand away, a flash of of silver caught his eye and he smiled slightly; his necklace was still hanging around her neck.

"I've asked him, three times. And he's somehow managed to avoid ever giving me a proper answer. Merlin I'm an idiot, how does he do that?"

"He's the heir of Slytherin, that's how," Elio muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind, he's just painfully conniving." There was a brief moment of silence before he gestured for them to start walking, Delilah easily falling in step with him. "Wait, so you don't know what happened?" She spoke slowly, watching his profile carefully.

Running a hand through his hair, Elio shook his head and let out a huff. "No, but I'm assuming it's bad if it made Abraxas look that guilty."

Delilah froze then, her muscles going rigid and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Abraxas had lied to her. Right to her face, and he didn't even blink.

Did that mean Pyrrhus and Cain were also involved?

And Merlin, that absolute fucker.

Elio hadn't noticed she'd stopped walking until a few moments later. Looking over his shoulder, his brows furrowed at the expression on her face. "Delilah?"

"I'm going to kill him." Her voice was steel as she stalked forward and took hold of Elio's arm, dragging him into the nearest empty classroom. The lack of sarcasm in her tone was a bit concerning, "kill who?"

"Riddle. God I'm such an idiot! Three times! Three fucking times! Maybe even four, who knows? And he- fucking hell," she slammed the door shut and cast a silencing charm. At the complete cluelessness written over Elio's face, Delilah sighed and her nose twitched slightly.

"They branded them, Elio. Branded."

He paled then and tugged at his tie, loosening it as much as he could. Feeling suffocated all the sudden, but there was a fire building up his spine, setting off his nerves in a sleeping inferno. "What did they write?"

Elio's tone was stiff and Delilah eyed him warily. He looked torn between either passing out or ripping someone's head off.

The disappointment she felt in the boys probably didn't even compare to what he was feeling. Elio's known them for years, they've grown up together, they were brothers. Part of her was scared to tell him, but she knew she had to.

"A multitude of things, Blood traitor, mudblood, and," she took a deep breath, hoping to god what she was about to say next would mean nothing to him. "On Katerina's back, 'Property of the Knights of Walpurgis' was-"

Delilah jumped to the side as Elio suddenly stalked towards the door, throwing it open with a wave of his wand. She merely blinked before following after him, all her questions about where he was going and what the Knights were appeared to be falling on deaf ears.

But once he turned down one hall, Delilah's blood ran cold. She knew exactly where they were heading.

"Wait, Elio we don't even know if it was them! They never told you anything-"

He spun on his heel, making Delilah collide with his chest and stagger back slightly. She's never seen him so furious. "Seriously, Delilah? I know you don't want it to be true but face it, this isn't even the first awful thing they've done."

Her brows furrowed, what did that mean? A thought occurred to her, did that mean Elio was in the Knights of Walpurgis? No. He couldn't be, if he was he'd know about Xan and Kat already. Elio stormed off again, his fists clenched at his sides and she struggled to keep up with him.

The moment the head boy and girl's door was in his sights, he threw it open, making a few students in the hall raise their brows. Delilah's own eyes widened, realizing what sort of confrontation was about to be held. Hurrying after Elio, she was just able to shut the door and place a silencing spell when all hell broke loose.

Just after she turned around, she witnessed a fist flying through the air and landing on Abraxas' jaw. The platinum haired boy gaped at his friend, not having the slightest idea as to why he was so pissed. "Elio? What the hell?"

"What is wrong with you?" His voice was raised, but he wasn't yelling. Nonetheless, nobody had ever seen him like this, causing the boys to stare at him cautiously and curiously.

There are three things all wise men fear; the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.

Delilah had pressed her back to the door, trying her best to stay out of it as she watched Elio's chest rise and fall rapidly. But the new weight behind her eyes nearly felt painful as she looked at them all. Her friends, the boys whom she was growing to love. They actually branded someone.

Disappointment.

That's what she was feeling, and it made her heart ache slightly as her eyes landed on Pyrrhus. It was extremely difficult to comprehend how he could do something like this. Nearly two months ago she was having to wipe away his tears as he was drunk in a bathtub, heartbroken over a break up.

And Abraxas, he- what was she expecting? Delilah knew he was one of the first death eaters. She just subconsciously decided to ignore that fact. Or maybe she tried to convince herself otherwise. Making herself focus on the boy she knew now, or thought she knew. The boy who pulled her into the room of requirement and poured his heart out about a girl he loved.

Shifting her eyes to Cain, it was just so unusual to picture him being cruel. He usually kept to himself, but the love that glowed from his eyes when he looked at his fiancé was something incredibly rare. Delilah's only seen that look a handful of times.

Finally, her eyes landed on Tom, and she didn't know what to think.

He was sitting on his chair as if it was a throne, a look of disinterest in his eyes as he watched Abraxas' jaw grow slightly red.

Abraxas' own gaze shifted between Delilah and Elio for a second more his shoulders dropped. "Shit, listen Elio-" He didn't get to finish his sentence, because instead, a hiss of pain left his lips.

Elio had grabbed his tie, yanking him forward and right into his fist. His knuckles colliding with Abraxas' nose with a crack.

Pyrrhus rushed forward, hooking his hands under Elio's arms to tug him away from landing another hit. "What if that was Aurora, hm? Not too far off considering what her house is and blood status."

Abraxas suddenly tensed, about to fire back, but someone cut them off.

"Enough," Tom bit out, his hand absentmindedly twirling his wand. Elio yanked out of Pyrrhus' hold and spun around to face him, his features contorted due to anger. Delilah almost didn't recognize him, was all this under the surface the entire time?

Then something shifted, Elio's face become stone as his eyes rested on Tom. "Since today seems like the day of revealing things not meant to be told," his voice was sharp and it sounded like a stranger. "How about that day Delilah mysteriously fell ill after your little trip to the woods, hm? How 'bout it?"

Delilah furrowed her brows, what was he talking about? "I thought you said I got food poisoning or something."

Elio whirled around, a slight crazed smile on his lips. Everyone in the room came to realize he had finally cracked. "Oh no, definitely not food poisoning, this fucker," he waved a hand at Tom, who had suddenly gone eerily still. His eyes burning, his jaw clenched. "Rosier, enough."

"No," his voice was nearing a shout. "I am sick of you. I'm sick of the mind games. I'm sick of the emotional manipulation. We are not chess pieces you can move around on a board whenever you feel like it!"

Delilah's mind was moving so quickly she could barely register her own thoughts.

"How about we also tell her what really happened fifth year? Oh what a clever trick that was, fooled the whole bloody school! You paraded yourself around like a hero. Even got yourself a shiny award, Tom Riddle, savior of the day. Tell that to Myrtle."

Delilah felt a pounding start at the back of her skull as she tried to remember that day, the last thing she could recall was Tom giving her that rose.

And what about fifth year? Isn't that when he said he got Hagrid expelled? And Myrtle? Did he mean Moaning Myrtle? "What are you talking about? What happened?" But she wasn't heard over Elio.

"The things you make us do, what you make us feel like we have to do."

"Rosier, I advise you to stop talking." Tom's voice became that of ice, the kind that burned when touched. Abraxas and the other boys tensed, taking a small step forward if they needed to come to Elio's aid. They've seen that look on Tom before, and it ended very poorly.

"And I advise you to start listening, my lord." Elio stepped towards Tom, his fear forgotten and clouded by well over a year of built up anger.

Tom visibly tensed at the name, his eyes darting to Delilah quickly before shifting them back on the boy he looked like he was about to kill. And he just might, his hand that was twirling his wand froze.

Delilah's head spun, what did he mean 'my lord?' What the fuck is happening? That ache in her head grew a tad bit stronger.

"Cain what are they talking about," Delilah tugged on his arm but he shrugged her off, his attention solely focused on the two. He had no doubt in his mind that a cruciatus curse might go flying around, and if it got to it, possibly even something much more deadly.

There was a flash of red inside her mind, her head began to ache terribly as a memory tried to prod its way to the surface.

Pale green eyes danced between the dark pools of Tom's. "I am tired of you taking whatever you want, whenever you see fit. No matter who it harms in the end. Just because you're the heir doesn't mean you can own whatever catches your eye. Object and person alike. You're not entitled to a damn thing, yet you act like you are."

There was a beat of silence and Tom was just about to flick his wand when Elio sighed and stepped away, rubbing at his face. "I'm exhausted, truly. And I've had enough."

He turned and looked at Delilah, "Go on and ask him, ask him why he dragged you back from the woods unconscious, and had Dumbledore and Madame Fontaine brought to the Manor. You were passed out on a table in the kitchen, you looked like you were about to die."

Delilah paled, her brain scrambling to try to put the pieces together, but she couldn't and a new sense of fear ran up her back as her gaze turned to Tom.

"What happened?"

"Leave, all of you." His words were directed at the boys, but his eyes remained solely focused on Delilah.

When no one moved, his gaze suddenly turned furious as he looked at them all.

"Now!"

It was a rare thing to hear Tom yell, it caused all of them to flinch except for Delilah. No, her confusion clouded her rationality. If she was in her right state of mind, she'd also know to get the hell out of there.

The boys scrambled and made to leave, sparring her abrupt glances of worry. Elio however spared a long look at Tom before shaking his head, taking his time to leave. He stopped when his shoulder met Delilah's and he leaned down slightly, "be careful," he muttered.

A moment later the sound of the door shutting met her ears, and they were alone.

Tom sighed and started towards his room, Delilah following after him without a second missed. The pounding in her head was so loud, and she tugged at her hair, a pressure was building behind her eyes.

"What happened?" She asked again, her annoyance morphing into anger as she saw him roll his shoulders, as if this whole ordeal was nothing but a simple inconvenience.

But something was wrong, he wasn't looking at her, in fact he was actively avoiding doing so.

"What did you do?"

He wasn't speaking and he dug into his pocket, he needed a cigarette. In fact for the first time he nearly felt desperate for one. Tom Riddle and desperation were two things that should never be placed together, but there he was.

As soon as she saw the glint of silver her teeth gritted. He was not getting out of answering her this time. With a wave of her hand, the cigarette box went hurtling across the room and hit the wall so hard the stone cracked.

And he did nothing but pinch the bridge of his nose.

She tried to focus on her memory, so hard, but nothing except for the shadow of what might've been her on the ground was partially clear.

"Answer me!" The scream tore through her throat, shattering the silence around them as if it was fragile glass and he tensed, the muscles in his back straining. "I truly don't think you want to know."

"Bullshit."

What could be so bad that he of all people wouldn't tell her. What the fuck happened to her? And the thought that he had something to do with it? Her mind spun.

"Why was I unconscious when you took me back to the manor? Why did I look half dead? Why was Dumbledore there?" As soon as the last question left her mouth, she went rigid.

Dumbledore knew and never told her?

Tom rubbed at his face before finally turning to look at her. He wouldn't admit it to himself, he wouldn't allow himself to, but he was afraid. That was new. Tom was never afraid. What would she do when he told her? She'd be angry, furious no doubt.

But to what extent?

He expected screaming, probably a physical reaction as well. Tom wouldn't be surprised if she started throwing hexes at him.

But what would be the long term effect of this apparent 'betrayal' and over stepping of boundaries. Would she ever talk to him again? Would she just pack up and leave, never turning her back. What about the Ministry plan? Would that be thrown out the window?

If he was in her shoes, he'd probably kill him. Anyone who would dare meddle with not only his memories, but his mind overall was a dead man walking.

Which he realized was a bit hypocritical considering how many minds he's fucked with, including the blonde standing in front of him.

"The day we went out to look at the statues, we started to walk into the woods. We talked about the Yule Ball and you told me about some muggle case of two American students," he began, his mind scrambling for a decent way to put this together.

Even if he worded it as vaguely as possible, she'd still be livid. "Then you yelled at me," he forced dry amusement into his tone, hoping this would somehow lessen the blow that was about to be fired.

He bit his cheek then as he recalled the events of that day, "then I gave you a rose, a white one. I had picked up a twig to mess with, I was just twirling it absentmindedly, and when I looked down it was a white rose. I had transfigured it without realizing. The thorns had cut you and I cleaned them, then you said you knew something else about the Deathly Hallows."

Something happened to her then that hadn't happened in a long time, she cracked, the memory rushing forward almost painfully.

She remembered how his grip on her arm was so tight it hurt. How she yanked her arm out of his hold, only resulting in her falling to the ground. She recalled scrambling away from him as he stalked towards her slowly, like an animal going in for the kill. Delilah remembered screaming and then- she paled.

He had used legilimency on her.

Relief at Tom not finding anything of particular use was clouded by her fury. Then she remembered the pain, and the blood. Blood was everywhere, filling her lungs and clouding her vision in a mess of crimson tears.

"How dare you."

She spoke slowly, her voice shaking only slightly.

Tom knew this would happen at some point, but it didn't mean he was ready. He's never seen her this... he didn't even know. Was emotional the right word? She looked like she was going to rain fire on whatever she set her eyes on. All just to kill him

And she just might try, considering she's used the killing curse before.

She then crossed the room in what seemed like no time at all, placing two hands on his chest and shoving him harshly, making him stagger back and hit the bookshelf.

Books toppled to the floor as the shelf rattled, the wood dug painfully into the spot between his shoulder blades as she shoved him again when he tried to step forward.

"How dare you! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Delilah-"

She went to step away, turning her back on him. The very thing he was scared of her doing. On blind impulse, Tom reached out and took hold of her wrist.

"Get off me."

"Please just listen,"

"Don't touch me." He tried to grab her again, which made Delilah twist her arm and yank it out of his grip, causing her skin to burn and flush red.

"If I would've known something as bad as you nearly bleeding out to death was going to happen I would've never even done it in the first place."

Her eyes widened in not only disbelief, but frustration, and Delilah shoved him harshly into the bookshelf again.

"That's not the bloody point! You had no right, even if I didn't start choking on my own blood, you had absolutely no jurisdiction to look inside my head. My thoughts are mine and I am entitled to them, not you, not Dumbledore, not anyone."

Delilah couldn't breathe, so much was happening, she was realizing so much. Even Dumbledore made himself appear to have a right to look at her memories.

Her ears began to ring and her skin felt hot, she couldn't even look at him. With a slight scoff, Delilah turned to leave, but with a wave of Tom's hand the door slammed shut, making the wood rattle on its hinges.

"Riddle let me out now."

"Listen to me," he began again, his voice raising in agitation, which only pissed her off further. "Why should I? Let me the fuck out," she tried to unlock the door with numerous spells, but nothing was working. So in a fit of desperation, she started to hit and throw kicks at the door, oblivious to the pain shooting up her limbs with each blow.

"Delilah," he needed to fix this, and quickly.

Just the other day she wished, hoped even, he'd start calling her by her name. But now the mere sound of it coming from his mouth set a fire off raging her veins.

Delilah whirled around, firing the first spell to come to mind. His body was thrown back due to an invisible blow to his chest, his back hitting the post on his bed before he fell to his knees. A sharp pain shot through his side, but he ignored it with a clench of his jaw and stood up slowly.

"Are you done?" That was the wrong thing to say, which he came to quickly realize as her wrist flicked, sending a scorching wave of blue tinted fire towards him. Throwing up a defense, it wasn't as strong as it should've been and the wooden post of his bed caught fire. Quickly putting it out, he was just barely able to block her next spell.

Biting her cheek, Delilah caught sight of the books on the floor to her left in her peripheral vision and the fireplace on her right.

Barely flicking her wand, she sent the books hurtling at him. While he was distracted with that, she turned her focus to the fireplace, tearing it apart brick by brick.

At the sound of what appeared to be grinding stone, Tom turned and was barely able to register what was happening. The fireplace crumbled as the heavy stone bricks hovered in the air for a moment, before spinning and turning into sharp daggers.

His eyes widened slightly as Delilah gestured forward, and they came shooting towards him. Tom crumbled them with ease, but she sent what appeared to be a more controlled version of sectumsempra.

Hissing at a sudden sting in his leg, Tom looked down to find a deep laceration across his left calf, blood soaking through his pants. The incantation to heal wounds from that spell was slightly tedious, and he didn't exactly have time to even begin it when she sent a gust of wind at him, making his feet slide back across the door, attempting to knock him off his balance.

"Delilah this is ridiculous," he shouted over the whistle of air that was pushing him this way and that. She lowered her wand then, her expression so stiff she almost appeared to look like one of those statues she adored so much.

"Ridiculous?" she said incredulously.

"Yes, we should talk this out like civil people," he stopped short when a bark of dry laughter left her lips. "Civil? Are you joking? Riddle you are the least civil person I know."

Before he could utter a word, she pressed her hands together and muttered something so quietly that only her lips gave any indication she was speaking.

The runic spell she was currently casting was something she had only done once before, because afterwards it left her utterly exhausted. But with her vexation and adrenaline mixing together, she didn't think twice when she started to murmur the incantation.

He stepped back cautiously when the room suddenly became heavy, almost suffocating as energy charged the air around them. A dim purple glow started to weave its way around her, almost like it was alive, dancing between her fingers and in her hair.

His brows furrowed, completely fascinated and distracted by the curious sight in front of him. He's never seen magic like that before. "What are you doing?"

Delilah's head raised and her eyes seemed to be glowing such a bright blue they almost seemed white, she then pushed her hands out, and the magic that was tangled and bonded so tightly around her suddenly exploded.

The shockwave of the miniature explosion sent him hurtling back, his skull slamming into the wall with a loud crack as his body collided with the hard stone. He squeezed his eyes shut and a slight groan left his lips as he fell to the floor painfully, gripping at the back of his head he felt something warm and wet.

Delilah dropped her hands to her sides, the dim purple glow still cracking around her fingers as she slowly walked forward.

"Civility is something beyond your comprehension."

Pulling his hand away from his head, his fingers shone with crimson and he looked up at her, his vision tilting this way and that. He must've gotten a concussion. She watched as he tried to stand up, but his blood covered hand slipped on the floor and his head must've been spinning so much that his balance quickly gave out, sending him back to the floor. He landed on his side and the wind was knocked out of him, he had a cracked rib.

"Nearly hurtling me off a tower to my death?" She ground out as he tried to reach for his wand, but with a simple gesture of her hand, it flew into her grasp.

She wasn't letting him get away this time, she wasn't going to let him defend himself. The odds were in her favor now.

Tom gaped at her slightly, not really being able to believe what was in front of him. For one, he's never seen magic like this before. And new things always did fascinate him. And two, Delilah had warped into a completely different person. Someone much more powerful, much more deadly, and much less forgiving.

"Cutting into people's skin and marking them as property?"

As he went to sit up, Delilah raised her free hand and dragged him up against the wall. Tom choked out slightly due to the invisible grip around his throat that was slowly starting to tighten.

"Intruding into my mind, which is private, and mine alone? Even after you saw me visibly crawling to get away from you?"

Pressure increased on his throat and his hands flew up, clawing at nothing but his own flesh. Delilah watched apathetically as his watering eyes bulged and he began to choke. She was about to fire another wave when something caught her attention.

There was a cut above his right eye, the blood from the wound had dripped dangerously close, nearly getting into his waterline. Her dream from the other night suddenly shot forward.

Shaking her furiously, she sent another wave at him since her grip had loosened, pushing him painfully into the stone. His ears were ringing and his focus kept going in and out, he wasn't full on suffocating either but his chest was heaving due to hyperventilation.

The light from the curling magic reflected in his dark eyes, making them practically shine red due to the reflection of his own blood. Delilah suddenly went stiff as the dream finally shoved its way forward again.

Those red eyes that seemed so familiar.

That tingling she's gotten every once in awhile since she arrived in this time grew stronger, though it turned into something more painful. Her vision went white for a moment as that ache suddenly exploded. Causing her focus to drop from Tom and he slid to the floor the second her hold released him.

Blood trailed on the wall from his head and he fell on his side, spluttering out wet coughs and there was something warm and metallic on his tongue.

A memory from sixth year popped into her head, making her tug at her hair since the image wouldn't go away. It was similar to what one may experience when using a pensive.
____________________________________

She sat in the Great Hall next to Luna, her other housemates chatting loudly around her. The voices of students rebounded off the walls as people greeted their friends and asked about their summer.

Dumbledore walked up to the golden owl podium then, effectively making the room quiet almost instantly. Though a few whispers were heard here and there.

"Now as you know, each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival here tonight. And you have the right to know why." He began ominously, his eyes twinkling due to the candle light behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Once there was a young man, who like you, sat in this very hall, walked this very castles corridors, slept under its roofs. He seemed to all the world, a student like any other. His name... Tom Riddle."

Whispers erupted around the hall, everyone turning to a friend with a question on their lips. Delilah looked at Luna, "ever heard of him?" Her dreamy eyed friend shook her head, that always pleasant smile on her lips. "No, I haven't. Though he has a funny name, doesn't he?" Her voice held its typical airiness, being nearly drowned out by the hall of students.

"Today is course," Dumbledore started, gaining everyone's attention yet again, all eyes expecting an answer to their questions. "He's known all over the world by another name. Which is why I stand, looking out upon you all tonight. I'm reminded of a sobering fact. Everyday, every hour, this very minute perhaps, dark forces try to penetrate this castle's walls."

His eyes swept over the students before landing directly on Delilah, who shifted a bit uncomfortably in her seat. Why was he looking at her like that?

"But in the end, their greatest weapon is you... just something to think about."
____________________________________

Delilah froze, Tom's own wand pointing at his heaving chest, she had raised it without realizing.

No.

He can't be. He can't be. He can't be.

But there it was, Dumbledore had flat out told her exactly who he was in her sixth year. Even gave her a fucking warning.

"God please no," she choked out, staggering away from him, accidentally tripping on the rug in the process and landing painfully on the wooden floor.

Tom spluttered out a cough, he could taste blood on his tongue and he held his aching side as he sat up on one elbow. Delilah flinched at the simple action, and a frown tugged at his lips. Why the sudden shift? She was nearly about to kill him. He was trying to find something to say, but his mind was muddled.

How does one even apologize for something like what he's done? Tom never apologized in the first place, but this time, he realized, it seemed vital.

But for Delilah, an apology from him was the very last thing on her mind.

He put all of his effort into focusing on her blurry figure, but once his vision came to, he stiffened. Her eyes were so wide and had gone crystalline, staring directly at him. Her lips slightly parted and she was shaking an awful lot.

"Delilah?"

His voice snapped her out of her shock and she scrambled up and away from him, pressing her back into the wall, trying to put as much distance between them.

She even considered possibly jumping out the window.

Of course, of all people, it had to be him.

She raised her hands to tug at her hair, her head was pounding and everything sounded as if it was underwater. But as she lifted her hand, her eyes froze on the wand she was holding.

"Oh my god." Her voice was nearly a wail and she dropped the wand as if it burned her.

She's seen that wand before. It had been pointed at her numerous times, and not once with good intentions from the owner.

Tom Riddle is, or soon will be, Lord Voldemort.

He was going to murder Harry's parents, he would be the cause of Cedric's death, of Sirius', of Moody's, of Dumbledore's, and so many countless others.

And he was going to kill her one day, too.

He already has.

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Shit just went down, huh?

Please VOTE & COMMENT if you enjoyed!! Let me know what you thought.

And on an unrelated note, I'm seeing Queen in concert tomorrow and I'm pumped!! I'm so excited that I couldn't sleep so I thought "what the hell" and got some much needed energy to write and edit.

ALSO

This beautiful person made this "guide to being Delilah Meddows" and my heart is soaring!! I'm honored and seeing something like this makes me so ridiculously happy. Thank you to everyone who's invested into this story and its characters!!

Again, HUGE thank you to latinspoet_ on Instagram for making this!!