Later that night there was a knock on her door. Brows furrowing, her head rolled to the side to take a look at the clock. It was nearly four in morning.

  Kicking the heavy blanket off her legs, she nearly tripped as she tried to untwist herself. Another knock, more impatient, and she huffed as she finally grabbed hold of the doorknob.

  "What-"

  Tom stood there with a bemused expression on his features and she found herself blushing.

  A multitude of questions bounced around in her mind as he stepped forward into the room and shut the door behind him with a soft click. "How are you... how'd you slip away?"

  "That Granger girl can be helpful when she wants to be," he said lightly.

  Delilah didn't bother asking him what he meant, not that she had the chance to seeing as his hand slipped into her hair and he pulled her mouth to his. Warmth and familiarity engulfed her as Tom's other arm wrapped around her middle, hot breath invading her mouth.

  It felt strange to think she had missed him, but she had. She missed being near him and being free to act on her wants and needs. Now she felt restricted in even looking in his general direction - scared of judgement.

  Again, Delilah didn't blame them. But that didn't make it any less hard.

  Tom pulled away, lips pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead and hand massaging the back of her neck. "You're thinking too much."

  "Aren't I always?"

  He hummed, looking down at her and her flushed features and he never thought he'd genuinely crave someone before but there he was - relapsing back into her. Who knew a person could cause symptoms of withdrawal.

  "Are you ready for tomorrow?" She asked, stepping away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. He bit his cheek, eyes dancing over the room and the cluttered mess of it. Walking over, he stood before her and messed with the collar of the sweater she was wearing.

  "Am I ready to walk into a war zone?" Tom's tone was light and easy going and he offered her a slated smile. "Of course I am."

  "I don't think they'll let you have your wand-"

  "Not a problem."

  Her brow raised, "what do you mean?"

  "Please, your lack of faith in my abilities is disheartening." Following his statement Tom lifted up one wrist and easily took the bracelet off, eyes glinting as he watched her own widen.

  "Have they been like that the entire time?"

  Tom shook his head and slipped the device back on, "just last night I managed to crack them." He didn't think it the best idea to bring up his little episode and the fact he spoke to her recently passed ex.

  "How?" She grabbed hold of his hands and lightly ran her fingers over the cool metal. He took hold of her chin, bringing her gaze to his.

  "It's complicated."

  Delilah grinned, "uncomplicate it."

  He didn't answer her, he just kissed her again. And again, and again. Tom kissed her till her mind went numb and she took notice of nothing but his weighty presence.

  I missed you, nearly dripping off her tongue and he eased her onto her back on the mattress. His hands ghosting under the jumper and making her melt between his fingers.

  His touch rested against her rib cage for a moment, taking in the blush of her cheeks and shimmering eyes. "You have to be quiet," his voice a lull, swarming around her and making her feel dizzy.

  "Why not just cast a silencing charm?" She went to go reach for her wand, but within a second both wrists were pinned above her head and his nose brushed hers. A daring gleam to his starless eyes.

  "And take away the fun?"

  Her jaw went slack at his suggestion. "But what if-"

  Tom took hold of her chin again and she shuddered, his brows raising. "Will you be quiet for me?"

  Delilah's eyes were doting and she nodded. Though her own cheeky smile deepened her cheeks. "Yes, sir," she joked.

However when his grip tightened and his jaw strained at the term, the excitement, longing, and a bit of fear running through her felt overwhelming. She wasn't thinking straight. This was a terrible idea, but it was hard to say no to him. Especially when he was on top of her.

  Tom knew he was being reckless, but he didn't care. She was there, beneath him, and that voice in the back of his head whispered about how he had missed her touch - missed her.

  He shook his head slightly and tugged the jumper off her body. She wasn't wearing a bra, seeing as she had been planning to sleep but was ultimately greeted by her dear companion insomnia again.

  It was clear Tom was wasting no time as he too shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and undid his belt. He movements didn't seem rushed, but tonight was different. For both of them.

  They wanted another dose of each other and quickly.

  His fingers hooked on the hem of her shorts and underwear and swiftly dragged them down her legs. Mouth latching onto hers again as he bent over, hot and open mouthed and his tongue traced the inside of her cheek.

Swallowing the light moan she let out as two of his fingers dragged down her folds before sinking in, thumb running circles persistently against her clit. Delilah thrusted against his hand, her own fingers twining and burying themselves in his unruly head of dark hair.

  The steady and slow dragging of his fingers in and out of her may her feel on fire, as if the bed beneath her would turn to ashes. Tom's mouth left hers and trailed down to her jaw, dusting over neck and to her chest. Sucking and biting and leaving whatever marks he pleased on her breasts seeing as they'd be the easiest to hide.

  "Tom," her voice was a breathy, heated whisper. He could feel her start to pulse around his fingers, just nearly there, when he stopped.

  Her chest was heaving and he marveled at the sight, ignoring her glare as he undid his trousers and slipped down his boxers. A second not wasted as he entered her.

  His arms held himself up as he thrusted forward, pushing her further into the mattress and her mouth gaped open at the force of it. Tom ground back then forth, the pacing almost brutal and it hurt and it was delicious all at once.

  "Always so wet..." he trailed heavily into her ear, nipping at it gently and goosebumps erupted on her flesh. "And tight for me."

Her knees were bent, toes curled and head thrown back as he fucked her with next to no gentleness.

She loved it. A moan nearly tore out of her but Tom snatched it away as he hand closed around the beating skin of her neck, as if to tether himself to her. He could feel her pulse thrumming violently which only spurred him on further.

  Harder and faster, sweat beading her skin like dew and her eyes rolled into back of her head.

  Choking.

  She couldn't breathe. It hurt but then when he'd drag out his cock would hit that special spot and she felt electricity shock ever nerve in her spine.

  Hitting her orgasm with a muffled and choked by cry, her legs trembled but he kept going. His grip on her throat bruising and hot tears slipped from her eyes, burning her cheeks and he drank up the sight.

  "Fuck-" he rasped out, chasing and grinding and it was all to much for her as she shook and her vision swam. Tom finally let go as he watched her nearly slip unconscious and she sucked in a harsh breath of air but it turned into another moan as his pelvis slid against her clit.

  Reaching his hand out, his fingers slipped between her swollen lips and into her mouth easily. Her tongue swirling around the digits without a thought and she could taste herself on him.

  "Fuck, Delilah."

  Tom's fingers pushed down on her tongue as his thrusts became more erratic, the muscles in his stomach clenching and she tightened around him move more.

  Marveling at the sight as he came, head thrown back and throat bent with veins pulsing. His chest heaving as his hips stilled against her, that warm feeling of his release filling and coating her and more profanities left his mouth in hushed whispers.

  Tom pulled out, watching with a twisting satisfaction as his cum mixed with her pooled and leaked out of her swollen folds.

  Delilah was still shaking but he rubbed soothing circles into her thighs as he bent over to kiss her gently.

  "You did wonderfully for me, darling."

 
The next morning Delilah walked into the kitchen, incredibly sore but she walked it off to the best of her ability. Not missing how Tom's eyes flickered to her neck, the subtle hint of disappointment in his gaze at the notion she got rid of his marks.

She absolutely refused to meet Hermione's gaze.

Belkin arrived a moment later, appearing with a sharp pop and his eyes glowed violet as he smiled at them all. "Ready?" The elf shuffled on his feet, strangely excited given the fact he was about to be put directly in the line of fire.

The group looked at each other, Hermione looking angry, but they all nodded.

"Ready, and remember Belkin. You pop in only enough to catch a few guards' attentions and then you leave." Kingsley clarified. The elf nodded, smiling, and with the snap of his fingers he was gone.

Not a moment later Kingsley took hold of Tom's arm, the rest linking hand and they apparated to the Hogs Head Inn.

  The world bent and twisted around them, tugging and pulling apart before they landed with a thump in the middle of the old wooden tavern.

  "Here I was expecting you to be late," Aberforth grumbled, downing a tankard even though it was eight in the morning.

  They could dainty hear the screeching alarms going off and Hermione wrung her hands. Ron have her shoulder a light squeeze. "He'll be fine," he whispered.

  "I'm never late," Kingsley chimed. The Dumbledore was about to reply, but when Kingsley moved out the way and saw Tom and Delilah his hand holding his drink stilled.

  "I'm not going to ask."

  Tom smiled charmingly, "pleasure to see you, sir." Delilah resisted the urge to laugh at the sight of the others' confused faces.

  "I suspect my brother had something to do with his," he gestured to the pair of them. Harry's eyes glanced towards Tom, "you could say that."

  "This little reunion is lovely, really. But we ought to get going, yeah?" Ron chimed, his first own nerves were itching at his spine but he tried his best to appear calm. Mostly for Hermione and Harry's sake. Both were always so strained and tense and he felt if he were to let himself fall to his worries they might crumble along with him.

  Aberforth grunted and started down the hall, "this way."

He led them down a hall, narrow and slanted and they came into a room with dust coating everything like snow. On the far wall was the portrait of Ariana and she smiled at them all lightly before it swung forward, the canvas revealing a large hole in the wall.

The group went through, crouched and cold. The smell of damp rocks and soil tickling their noses. It felt like ages until they reached another end.

Harry pushed the portrait forward to reveal the Room of Requirement, remnants of old beds and clothes strewn around everywhere. Echos from the days leading up to the Battle.

What horrid hours those had been. Relentless fighting and so many deaths only for it to hit a stalemate.

  "Harry?" Hermione's voice broke him from his trance and he shook his head. "Sorry," hopping down, his feet landed with a soft thud.

The rest followed and Ron pulled out the Marauder's Map, the ink filling its pages and Tom leaned over slightly in curiosity.

It was an impressive bit of magic.

"This place is practically deserted," he said, eyes tracing over every hall. "Minus the front gates and outer rim, but they're mostly there just for guarding."

"Then we better make it quick," Kingsley gestured for them to follow as he walked.

Weaving through the halls, or what was left, most tended to avoid looking too long. Wanting to repress the memories as much as they could.

Tom couldn't help as his eyes traced over every crack, lump of rumble, and blood stained stone.

All his fault.

Nearing the Headmaster's office, the large phoenix bird was knocked askew, making the group have to climb over it. Delilah's foot slipped on the smooth bronze but Tom's hands easily found their way to her sides, holding her steady.

"Sorry."

"I'm sure," he mused, shortly after hauling himself up and on top of the statue.

  The doors were unlocked, barely hanging on their hinges. The group didn't have much time to dote when someone cleared their throat.

  They all flinch, wands raise, but ease at the sight of Phineas in his portrait. The rest all empty.

  "Took the lot of you long enough-"

  "Where do we need to look?" Kingsley cut him off.

  The Black glared but then gestured to one of the side wall lines with artefacts. "There's false book's with documents hidden."

  "Which ones?" Hermione asked.

  "I don't know muggle born," disgust underlined his tone but she ignored with the a mere roll of the eyes. "I'm sure we can figure it out ourselves."

Barely five minutes later Hermione had already found the first one.

"Either she's clever or that was a very pathetic hiding attempt." Tom mused to himself but turned when Delilah nudged him in the side. "What?"

She pointed, eyes wide.

He turned and then went still as twinkling eyes met his.

"Hello, Tom." Dumbledore's portrait spoke, much older. He must've just appeared. The old wizard smiled kindly and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Hello, sir."

Dumbledore waved his hand, "no need for such politeness. I'm glad to see you and Miss Meddows made the trip safely."

"I think I found all of them! Oh-" Hermione stood from her spot on the floor, clutching papers to her chest as gaped at the sight of Dumbledores portrait. Everyone else already gawking. They hadn't seen him in ages.

"Professor Dumbledore I'm sorry I hadn't realized," Hermione blew the hair out of her face, down right embarrassed.

The old man laughed gently, "always a pleasure, Miss Granger. Good to see you're just as sharp as I remember."

She smiled the best she could, not being able to get the image of him laying dead in the courtyard out of her mind.

They couldn't dwell, despite how much they all wanted to stay and talk. But even he began to urge them on their way.

"But sir," Harry started, having a hard time meeting his eye. "This plan of yours-"

He held up his hand, "let time run its course, Harry. It always will."

He clenched his jaw. Though he missed the professor dearly his lack of transparency, especially in such a trying time, was infuriating. Nonetheless he nodded, "it's good to see you."

"And you as well, my boy."

They began to file out of the room, despite their more rational thoughts the trio felt a bit more ease at the notion of Tom being at their side. Neither trusted him, but there was assurance building.

"Miss Meddows?"

She swallowed dryly and stopped at the door, "sir?"

"There should be a note in the bottom drawer of my desk."

Hesitantly, she walked over and tried the bottom latch. It would have been locked, but she had the inkling Dumbledore had something to do with the lack of security on these objects.

It slid open and there laid an envelope with her name printed in ink.

"What is it?" she asked, about to rip it open but he shook his head. "Not yet."

"When should I?"

"You'll know."

She didn't bother to hide her glare. Looking to the door, they must've been down in the hall but she lowered her voice nonetheless.

"About the object, what was it?"

"In all due time."

God she wished she would've punched him when he was still alive. "Does the letter explain it?"

He just stared at her, knowing and haunting and he tapped the side of his nose. "Amor Vinicit Omina," and with a wink he was gone.

Her frustration quickly melted away into confusion and shock as realization dawned on her.

"Oh my fucking god."