Hearing the noise, Harry made his way downstairs and nodded in greeting to Blaise. The two weren't anywhere near friends, they never would be. But he recognized they were on the same side.

When his eyes landed on Tom however, his jaw clenched and he turned back around to go into the war room.

Tom sighed, not surprised, but he wondered if there was any way he'd be able to talk to the boy. An apology would never suffice, he knew that it would probably only get himself hexed. He tried to insert himself into Harry's mindset. What would he do if the person responsible for all his pain was suddenly brought forth, but he couldn't enact revenge?

He would go mental, and if he were being honest, he'd act out regardless.

He wasn't able to connect further beyond that. His future self had killed Harry's parents.

Sure, his own were dead, but he was responsible for both of their passings. He killed his mother in childbirth and murdered his father. For years he thought they might be the source of his suffering, or what he thought might be suffering. It was hatred. But after he killed his father he still felt it deeper in his bones, it'd be with him forever. The feeling even stronger since he'd split his soul.

Part of him wondered if just trying to talk to Harry would be a good idea, perhaps try to convince him he was there to aid the Order. He shook his head, Tom knew that wasn't what the boy wanted.

Harry wanted him dead.

Tom's eyes returned back to Delilah and this boy who she apparently knew, it was obvious they were close. Blaise was his name, and his eyes burned a bit when he noticed his hands rested on her hips for a moment. It wasn't a long interaction between the two, but it felt like it.

It was clear she missed him, and that part at the back of Tom's head wondered if they used to be something more. Their body language was apparent.

His jaw clenched at the thought of them being previous lovers. This jealousy felt like a disease in his chest, he'd never been jealous before. Not over someone else. He wanted this sensation gone and tried to reassure himself Delilah was his. He probably knew her better than anyone else, surely he's seen more of her than anyone in this pathetic little resistance of theirs.

They'd shown each other their true colors long ago.

Delilah was still hiding a part of herself from them, that dangerous part that could reign hell on anything beloved.

To them she was just another fighter in the war, collateral damage. Yes, he knew they cared for her. But there was only so much room for keeping personal relationships and grieving during a time like this.

They had thought she died and moved on. To Tom he thought with little difficulty, which he took issue with.

He snapped out of his when he felt her eyes on him.

Blaise was staring at him, "so that's... him."

Delilah nodded, watching her friend closely. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, Blaise was always careful with his words. Back at Hogwarts he never talked much, he was the mysterious one in Malfoy's inner circle. It was a surprise to everyone when it became known they were friends.

No one ever found out about their few escapades of having sex, though.

She'd like to keep it that way.

Finally he looked down at her, "can we talk in private?"

Delilah looked to Tom for a moment, they barely had any time with each other now. But she hadn't seen Blaise in months. "Yeah, c'mon."

Tom's stomach churned a bit as he watched them leave, not a moment later Harrison and Bill yanked him up to his feet by his arms.

"Free time's over."

He was led down the hall, but when they passed the room he'd previously been held in his brow rose. Instead of being intimidated he was rather curious, wondering what they could possibly have in store for him. They turned and Harrison opened a door, looking down it was an old set of stairs and darkness could only be seen below.

He was shoved down the steps harshly, nearly losing his footing but he kept himself up right.

Once they reached the bottom, he was then shoved forward, Tom caught himself only when his shoulder rammed into something hard and cold, the ache shooting up his side and he exhaled a breath through his nose with a grunt.

Seconds later there was the sound of creaking and the echo of metal slamming shut. A light then flickered and his eyes flickered around his surrounding. Annoyance and a bit of anger creeping up the base of his skull when he noted he was placed into a cell. Though it more resembled a cage. The metal rods cemented into the middle of the floor and there was only a singular light above him.

To his left there was a mat, a bucket he could only assume was his bathroom, and an empty desk.

He wasn't alone. Harrison, Cormac, Bill, Kingsley, and that Ron boy were in the room, watching carefully as if he were an animal.

"I suppose my being in here is a comfort?"

As soon as he spoke he stilled, his voice was trapped within the cell, bouncing around him like a ricocheted bullet and only seemed to get louder before eventually dwindling. They couldn't hear him, he was trapped alone with himself.

Kingsley then waved his wand and Tom saw a glimmer ripple over the cage.

"You will be confined here until further notice."

"Did you approve of this?" Tom asked, he wanted to ask if Delilah knew about it but thought best against it. He could only hope she'd never approve of anything like this, he would've been able to tell if she was keeping something from him.

Then again, she was able to keep his own fate away from him.

He couldn't help the doubt chewing at his stomach.

Did she know about this?

"It was voted upon, for the safety of the Order, I'd say this is minor at best seeing as you pose a threat to the resistance."

Tom hated this, he hated all of it. But he knew there was no way to change their mind. So instead he gave them a slight smile, just to throw them off, and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Very well."

Kingsley considered him for a moment. Looking at Tom he knew he wasn't the monster they were currently fighting, not yet at least. He was just a boy, the same age as Harry. But he couldn't take any risks, he knew the potential danger Tom possessed if they weren't careful about this. He sighed through his nose as he thought about Meddows, they'd need to question her soon. Something wasn't sitting right.

"You're young, foolish, and dare I say it you have the potential to save us."

Ron looked like he was about to argue but Kingsley held up his hand. He stepped closer to his cage, eyeing Tom with a calm disposition. In some way the man reminded Tom of Dumbledore.

"But heed this young man, all that power you have. The power that we stripped from you-"

Tom's fists clenched at this behind his back.

"It is derived from rage and pain, such a weighty amount no man your age should ever have to carry. But that power is the weakest power a man can have."

A heated silence passed between them before Kingsley bowed his head and stepped back, that glimmer passing over the bars again and Tom was trapped in his own prison of silence.

Kingsley said something to Bill but he wasn't able to discern it, only he caught the smirk Harrison sent his way before they all left.

Please, he begged to no one but himself, please tell me you had nothing to do with this.

What if it was all a lie? What if she had preformed so well she even fooled him. Roping him to the future so he could be detained, controlled, killed. All for the sake of the war.

Please tell me you didn't know.

What if she'd used him? It would be her greatest revenge for all the suffering he would cause her and the world in the future.

Delilah had made him care and - he felt dizzy - perhaps she exploited his new disadvantage.

Tom felt he couldn't put it past her. He knew she was capable of many twisted and great things. She's killed before, how is this any different? How is this any worse?

He couldn't breathe.

Falling against the bars, he sucked in air harshly but it felt like nothing was getting in.

Was he having a panic attack?

"Delilah," he breathed hoarsely, her name swirled around him in the air, trapped around him.

Tom had never been loved, he didn't know what it properly looked like. How was he supposed to know if her love was true? Yes, maybe he has seen her true delf. Maybe he's the only one who has, and that version of her could be capable of this.

He couldn't master his doubt like he always had been able too.

All his rules, all his guidelines that he followed to protect himself... he'd broken all of them for her.

Tom slid to the floor, heaving with this crushing realization he didn't want to be true.

He couldn't block the thoughts out, not without his magic.

Trapped with himself was possibly one of the worst things imaginable to him right now.

I shouldn't have come.

  Blaise and Delilah had been sitting in the small study at the safe house, though it was a bit larger due to a charm to house more books on advanced healing. They'd just been catching up on simple things, such as Blaise's recruitment and Delilah talked about a few things from the past.

"You remind me of Cain," she mused, curled up on one of the chairs as he sat across from in another, his back to the fire making him glow.

"Is he wickedly charming?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." She mused, but her smile fell as she thought back to them all.

"When did you get that necklace?"

At him mentioning it, it seemed to burn into her skin. "Oh this, it was a gift." She forced out, suddenly feeling as if she couldn't breathe. Blaise quirked a brow, "from a boy?" He teased but his playful manner dropped at her crestfallen expression.

"Was he the one who...?"

Delilah nodded mutely.

"I'm sorry."

Sniffing, she shook her head. Trying to get the image of Elio's bloody smile out of her head.

"How's Draco?"

Blaise leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering as he thought back to his best friend.

"I rarely see him."

"Still? How long has it been?"

"Sixth months."

"Is he... do you if he ever got the mark? I know Harry had his suspicions back in sixth year."

He sighed through his nose, looking at her pointedly and her heart sank.

"No."

"He didn't have much choice."

"He couldn't have tried to run?"

"Delilah, they had his mother. You know he'd go to hell and back for her. If he would've delayed or refused they would've used her to get to him. You-Know-Who made sure of it."

At the mention of Voldemort they both stiffened and Blaise's eyes trailed to the door before looking back at her with a heavy gaze.

"How could you bring him back here?"

She could tell he was having a difficult time keeping his voice void of judgement.

"He can help us."

"How do you know that?"

"I trust him."

"He's Tom Riddle," exasperation was creeping into his tone, blinking at her in disbelief.

Her eyes cast down as she messed with the sleeve of one of Hermione's jumpers she let her borrow.

"I trust him."

"That's not an answer, not one I'll accept. What aren't you telling me?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead against them. She was so tired. "Not tonight, Blaise."

He stared at her for a long moment before she sensed him get up, flinching when he rested a hand on her shoulder. He didn't say anything, but she felt as if she could read his thoughts.

Blaise didn't know her anymore, not really.

The only one who did was downstairs.