Floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she made her way down the hall, warm lights flickering beneath doors as she went. Not many in the Order were sleeping.

  Everyone's anxiety had been building over the last week, their departure date running towards them at full speed. Part of her couldn't believe they were actually leaving tomorrow morning. The mere thought felt like a dream she couldn't quite get a grasp on.

  To think, she'd spent all those months in the past trying desperately to get back. To see everyone again. Yet she'd spent her entire time here wanting to go return.

  She knew they needed to. Both journeys were necessary. However, Delilah kept trying not to let herself wander down the path of curiosity.

  Wondering what she'll do once this was all over. Wondering where she'll go. If she would even make it that far. She had evaded death enough times already, one could only hope her luck hadn't run out.

  Reaching her destination, she gnawed at her lip and considered. Not wanting to do this, yet knowing she'd hate herself if she didn't.

  With labored breath, she raised a hand and knocked once. The sound of feet shuffling along the floor meeting her ears before there was a click and the door opened.

  "Delilah?"

  She smiled up at Blaise, "can we talk?"

  He opened his mouth, barely a breath passing, before he pressed his lips together and nodded. Stepping aside to let her walk in.

  His room was neat, as she expected. He had always been a rather meticulous person when it came to his living space. Wanting the finest decor and everything had to be in the right place, not an inch off or he'd spend a whole afternoon correcting it.

  She could only imagine he wasn't the happiest at the fact he had to stay in a small, old room that had aged and mixed matched design. Unlike the rest of the house that smelt of dust, his room smelt of expensive cologne. Delilah couldn't help but smile however as she spotted a few of Luna's things hanging up inside his wardrobe.

  "So, what brings you here?" He asked, shutting the door and leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. His dark eyes watched her carefully as she looked around the room for a moment.

  Biting at her cheek, she willed herself to look at him. Memories of their school years flashing in her head like some joyfully morbid picture show.

  "We're leaving tomorrow morning."

  His jaw tightened, his face unreadable and she longed to know what he was thinking. All he did was nod his head once, "I know."

  "If we could stay longer I would but—"

  Blaise rubbed at his eyes, lifting a hand to pause whatever she was going to say. "It's alright, you don't owe me an explanation. You're doing what has to be done."

  Her lips pressed into a smile that felt too painful to wear, "I'm going to miss you." She had only just gotten him back, albeit their moments at the house were few and far between. Their friendship wasn't the same as it once was, and she knew it never would be again. But she couldn't help the slow cracks of heartbreak that began to show themselves on her heart.

  He offered her a smile in return, though it was dejected. "We'll see each other again, one day."

  Delilah nodded, her eyes beginning to feel pressure that made her lightheaded. She wouldn't cry, the thought of it almost seemed selfish.

  "Yeah, one day."

  Because that was the truth of it. Although they could work out as many formulas as they like, there was no guarantee she could get back at an accurate date. Time moves differently, one can never tell.

  A year had gone by for her while it was mere months for them. Perhaps if she did come back it would be the other way around.

  She wanted to hug him, but her feet stayed put. The notion of sentiment felt off bounds, now. They weren't the people they once knew.

  Delilah had spent the whole night tossing and turning. Not feeling bad about keeping Tom up because he spent a good majority of the night at the desk.

  Flipping through pages of notes, a sort of feral hunger in his eyes as he took in information. His nerves itching at the prospect of a fight, of their journey ahead.

  As dawn reared its head, she sat up eventually and watched him. He had showered a little while ago and his hair was damp, making it look black and curls fell over his eyes.

  The beauty of him was dangerous.

  As if sensing her stare, he licked his lips, eyes still glued to the pages. "Morning."

  She stifled a yawn, "Happy birthday."

  At that he turned, the lamp light casting shadows across his face in a harsh composition of chiaroscuro. The image was haunting and breathtaking, especially with the look of disapproval on his features.

  "It's not my birthday."

  "Technically it is," she countered, simply to annoy him. She yawned again, eyes watering. "Truth be told I don't even know how old I am anymore."

  He hummed, his eyes sinking in thought for a moment as something passed over his face. "That must be liberating."

  "I suppose, but it's also a bit frightening."

  "Don't they go hand in hand?" He stood up then, walking to the wardrobe and pulled out his clothes. More specifically the outfit he had been wearing when they first arrived.

  Despite loving how modern clothes looked on him, she did miss the suits he would wear.

  "Get dressed," he said as he buttoned up his shirt before tucking it into his trousers. Tom then looked at her, excitement clearly brewing under the service. "All of time awaits."

  After getting ready she made her way down to the kitchen, main Order members already there. Some hunched over plans while others nursed cups of tea. The room thrummed with anticipation. She held the letter from Dumbledore tight in her hands, the paper crinkled a bit from her grip.

  Tom's eyes found her immediately, looking her up and down slowly with precision. Taking in the dress she wore and how her hair was curled and pinned.

  His gaze then dragged up to meet her eyes, the intensity of it made her feel on fire.

  "Great! You're here." Hermione called out, pulling them both from the trance but Tom was still looking at her. Her cheeks flushed but she cleared her throat and walked in, joining everyone else.

  "Let's begin," Harry said, everyone settling down and watching him carefully.

  Her heart leapt in her throat when Hermione pulled out the time-turner, the golden necklace dangling like a corpse as the sand moved in the hour glass.

  "How will we know if you succeed?" Harry said after a tense moment, tearing his eyes away from the device and looking at her.

  "Only you'll know, we'll be in the dark in the past."

  There was a pause, the air so thick Delilah felt as if her throat was closing up when she tried to breathe in.

  "And can we trust each other?" Harry finally asked, a question in his eyes. A test of sorts, though she wasn't sure what they would gain from this. They would never trust one another.

  Tom wasn't phased by Harry's intensity. He blinked, slow and calm and his voice reverberated around the room.

  "Perhaps not, but we can understand one another."

  A beat of silence, Harry's jaw clenched once before he nodded.

  Hermione let out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding and passed Delilah the time-turner. Her eyes were bright and hopeful. Just maybe they were one step closer to winning. On both ends.

  The cool material biting into her palm as she grabbed it, a thank you being spoken between their glance.

  "We get the remaining two Hallows and we end this, for good." She spoke to Tom, who had just torn his stare away from Harry.

  "We'll leave in a moment," he spoke to her quietly before looking back to the green-eyed boy across from him. "Can I speak to you?"

  "Absolutely not—" Ron began but Harry waved him off.

  "It's fine," he gestured to the hall, not sparing anyone a glance as he did so.

  Tom followed him out, feeling Delilah stare at the back of his head as he did so but he ignored it. His sole focus was the Boy-Who-Lived.

  Harry led them to the war room, his shoulders tensed but not from nerves or fear. It was simply the war weighing on them, pulling his strings taught and directing all his moves. A mere soldier being guided by a puppeteer of fate.

  Tom shut the door behind him, watching Harry with a keen eye, his focus trailing to the scar hidden behind his hair.

  It was a white-pink, some branching parts of the lightning bolt faded with age seamlessly into his skin. It was a remarkable sight, one he was sure had a good story.

  "How'd you get that?" His voice echoed in the room and Harry nearly flinched.

  Nearly.

  His jaw clenched and his hand absentmindedly went up to touch the scar.

  "You."

  "The night your parents died, I presume?"

  Harry's eyes narrowed, "you're not one to shy away from an uncomfortable conversation are you?"

  Tom shook his head, "I'm afraid not."

  He tilted his head, a predator in raw form as he observed. Gears turned behind his dark eyes as he thought back to the story of the Potters deaths. How a baby boy of barely one could defeat a war lord. More strangely, how he overcame the killing curse. It didn't make sense.

  "How'd you survive?"

  Harry sighed, leaning against the desk with his hands supporting his weight. "My mum, she..." he ran a hand through his hair. "It was love—"

  Tom clicked his tongue, "it's blood magic. Not love."

  Harry narrowed his eyes. "Well it worked. The killing curse bounced right off me, into you."

  "But You-Know-Who also still lived?"

  He nodded, not seeing the point of this.

  Tom bit his cheek, that still didn't make sense. The killing curse decimates what it touches, that's the law by nature. He did have a theory, but he needed to know more.

  And if he was right... a storm was approaching on the horizon. One he wasn't sure anyone could be ready for.

  "Your scar," he began, licking his lips after he spoke. "I've heard from the others, it tends to become active when he's around?"

  Harry raised a shoulder, "yes and no. It also becomes affected with strong emotions, sometimes I even see things. I see him. The things he does."

  Something flickered in Tom's eyes that made Harry lean back a bit. Caution coursing through his body.

  "And can he see you? Your thoughts, memories?"

  There was a tense silence as Harry stared at him, but surety set his jaw firm as he shook his head no.

  "I see," is all Tom said for a moment before opening the door, ignoring the question in Harry's eyes. "We best get back to the others, I'm sure you'll be glad to have me gone."

  "Indefinitely," Harry said tightly.

  As Tom walked out he clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, his mind reeling at a thousand miles per hour with this new revelation.

  Ignoring all the Order members he passsd as he went back to the kitchen, he wondered if they'd be able to handle it. What was to come.

  He had been right.

  God help them all.

  Delilah was hugging Luna goodbye when Tom walked back into the kitchen, his spine rigid and his eyes dangerous.

  As he neared she raised a brow at him, "what is it?"

  He sighed, bemused at the notion she was able to decipher him so easily. Leaning in, his lips grazed her ear and she couldn't help the goosebumps that took over her skin.

  His voice was low, "I'll tell you once we leave."

  She huffed, a bit annoyed but she didn't argue further as Harry followed in after. Sparing Tom his own questioning glance.

  Turning to her friends, she did her best to smile. Heart aching a bit at the notion Harrison wasn't there even though she was still furious at him. Blaise wasn't there either, he had to leave to see his mother. And though she was glad she got to talk to him last night, it didn't feel like enough.

  Hermione bit her lip, her eyes tearing up a bit before she sprang forward and crushed Delilah in a hug. "I'm going to miss you so much."

  Tightening her hold on the girl, Delilah shut her eyes and sighed. "I'm going to miss you too 'Mione."

  She pulled back, smoothing down Delilah's hair and her face turned fierce as she looked at her. "You stay safe, okay? You're not allowed to die."

  Delilah laughed lightly, "it seems the universe agrees with you on that one."

  She then looked at Harry, not knowing what to expect. His green eyes shined brightly behind his glasses as he looked at her, seeming to be at a mental debate with himself.

  She bit her cheek, "Harry—"

  He stepped forward and hugged her, his form engulfing her with how tall he was and he sighed with his eyes shut as well.

  "Be careful, Delilah. Please."

  She blinked in a moment of shock before her mind caught up to her and she hugged him back, finally feeling like some semblance of their friendship was back despite her now leaving.

  "I'll try."

  Leaning away he looked down at her, his eyes flicking between hers and his brows creased.

  "I hope you know what you're doing."

  All she could offer him was a smile as he then looked at Tom.

  "Kill the bastard, will you?"

  Tom's lip twitched into a smirk, "you do just the same."

  He stepped closer to Delilah and grabbed her hand, thumb running circles into the back of it and he felt the familiar chill.

  "Ready?" His voice was soft, patient.

  She looked at them all again, her heart heavy but she knew what had to be done. A small, tight smile on her lips as a notion of goodbye.

  Delilah looked back at Tom, his gaze settling her.

  "I'm ready."

  The world fell away around them as they apparated to the Forbidden Forest.