Tom feigned being asleep, laying on the pathetic mat on the floor with his head propped up on the lumpy pillow, arms crossed behind him.

He kept rerunning the event of seeing Elio the night before. How he was just a shadow, but not quite a ghost, He didn't know what it was, could apparitions travel across space time? Was it just a figment of his imagination? Then how would that explain him breaking free of the bracelets on his wrists? Maybe even then that was just his own magic projecting.

The train of thought was interrupted as the sound of the door creaking open met his ears. Shortly followed by a sharp tap on the bars. "Mornin' sunshine," Harrison mused, looking down at him with some small bitter enjoyment. Tom cracked one eye open, looking at the boy. Him and Delilah looked pretty similar, though his hair was a darker shade of blonde and his eyes were more on the hazel side.

"Good morning," he greeted calmly, the bracelets were still on his wrists, though bound there by his own magic now. He could've easily slipped away last night, breaking through the defenses of his cage even without a wand. But he had to think carefully about this, he needed their trust. Or at least some scrap of it. And Merlin knows how difficult it would've been to drag Delilah along with him discretely. The girl always found a way to make noise.

He smiled slightly despite himself at the memory of them in Ravenclaw tower. Tom wasn't a virgin before that escapade but Delilah certainly made him feel reborn.

"Someone has requested your presence, hopefully he doesn't end up bashing your head in." Harrison tsk-d, "though to be fair it'd be quite amusing if he did." As he made work to undo the lock Tom sat up, humming to himself. He was sure he was talking about Harry. Wondering what the boy could possibly want.

Maybe Delilah talked to him, convinced him. If she did he'd be a bit surprised, not to cut her short of credit but she wasn't the most well versed person in making such deals.

Harrison led him upstairs, the position a bit awkward due to Tom having the advantage of height on him. They went up another flight of stairs, Tom observing rooms as they went wondering which could possibly hold Delilah. Besides trying to convince the Order of his innocence, or at least prove he was helpful, he wondered what she'd been up to. Reconnecting with her friends, family. His mind trailed to Blaise, but shook his head. He felt secure in the fact that Delilah only wanted him. Though part of him worried, for a small moment, what if she no longer wanted to leave?

His quite frankly embarrassing panic attack came to mind, how his mind spiraled. Fearing she'd just leave him in there to rot. In a small cube of cement and thin cloth. Far too similar to how he felt as a boy at Wool's. Before he knew the true fate of his mother, he genuinely believed she'd left him in that orphanage to wither away.

  In a way she had.

Tom kept having to remind himself Delilah wanted him just as much as he did her. It was the only thing keeping his mind at bay.

Harrison opened a door and led Tom in, the lighting dim due to blinds being drawn and candles floated in the air. Harry was leaned against a far table, alone. Tom raised a brow at Harrison, but the boy said nothing and shut the door, leaving the two to themselves.

Part of him wondered if this was some scheme to kill him off. It was he had to give them light appraisal, he didn't think they were capable. Lately people have been surprising him.

Harry stayed at a distance, his arms crossed against his chest and holding his wand tightly. His eyes were startlingly green, staring at him behind his glasses with such strong ferocity.

Keeping his hands behind his back, Tom cleared his throat and kept his face neutral. Giving the silence another moment before starting, "I know it's not my place, or perhaps it is. I take full responsibility for any of the harm that's come not just your way but everyone else. I'm sorry." Even to his ears it sounded like bullshit, he just hoped Harry would see it differently.

Though based on the way the boy's jaw clenched he wasn't so sure.

Harry's mind was reeling, still trying to comprehend who was in front of him. That darker part of himself whispered how easy it would be to just kill him then and there. Watching him drop to the floor like a sack of damp flour with no life in his eyes.

  How easy. But if what Delilah said was true... if Dumbledore really had a plan he had to trust it. What other option did they have? The Order was hanging off a frayed rope at this point.

He regarded Tom for a few more moments. It was strange, usually Harry felt such a searing pain in his scar when Voldemort was near but with him... there was nothing. Not even an ache. Though it was small, he couldn't deny the shimmer of hope that ignited in his chest. Maybe, just maybe they could do it.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his messy hair. "I didn't call you in hear to hear an apology, let alone accept one."

Tom nodded, he wasn't expecting him to.

"Delilah proposed an idea, it sounds outlandish," Harry began. Tom refrained from chuckling. "But at the moment we're out of options and she's adamant you're a helpful tool." Now she never worded it that way, but Harry subconsciously had the goal to chip at Tom in any way he could. There was something between them, he didn't know what and he didn't care to entertain the thought.

Walking to the door, careful to keep some distance between them, he opened it and called down the hall.

A few moments later Kingsley, Ron, Hermione, and Delilah came through the door. The moment her eyes landed on him she wanted to jump on him and hug him. It'd only been a day, as needy as that might make her sound but the two had grown rather attached without them noticing. They've always been in each other's company, always knew where the other was. The sudden split felt like a punch to the gut for her.

Instead she spared him the smallest smile she dared.

She started, "now I know you could never give me an answer then but- the object I was sent to retrieve all those months ago, what was it?"

Tom's head ticked to an angle, eyes flickering around the group as he watched their expressions muddle into unease as memories surged forth. Kingsley sighed, "I don't know. None of us did, Dumbledore left strict instructions it be kept confidential."

"Which is why," Hermione began, wringing her hands nervously and Ron rubbed small circles into her back. She swallowed and dared a glance in Tom's direction, to which he only raised a brow. "We're going to infiltrate Hogwarts and get to Dumbledore's office. There's been whispers that valuable information had been left behind."

"Left behind?" Tom's voice was like sharp glass. "This is Albus Dumbledore, he wouldn't just leave something apparently so useful in a drawer at his desk. Where have you been hearing the rumors?"

Harry shifted his weight, hating how he was right.

Hermione seemed undeterred though, glaring at him. "We already have spies within the castle."

"Portraits, I assume?"

She swallowed dryly, "yes. Why?"

"And you trust a painting?"

"More than you," Ron mumbled.

"Regardless," Delilah cut in, shooting Tom a warning glance to tell him to shut up. "Phineas' portrait has always been helpful to us, and he said there had been a storage of documents hidden in Dumbledore's quarters -"

"However if we apparate the alarms will go off, I think we're forgetting that mini obstacle," Ron chimed.

Kingsley shook his head, "we'll be arriving at Aberforth's, he has the last remaining passage into the castle. Now guards will be sent out, and that's where one of the elves will come in."

Hermione bristled, her eyes gleaming with anger. "I hate the idea of using Belkin as bait, it's not right."

"'Mione he volunteered," Harry reminded her.

She picked at the hem of her jumper, "doesn't make it anymore right."

Harry wanted to snap at her that it was war,
to get over it. But he bit his tongue and turned to Kingsley. "Once we get into the castle there's a series of hidden hallways that have still been untouched for the most part, I've been keeping an eye on the map and found which ones tend to be vacant and clear. We'll get into his office and search, Phineas said most if not all of the headmasters' portraits have cleared by now. We'll be in and out and get whatever information we need."

Tom looked to Delilah, she looked tired. Wrapped up in a large and scratchy looking sweater with an 'H' on it and scuffed up jeans. Circles hung like craters under her eyes and wished he could just touch her.

Shaking his head he looked to Harry, "and if not all goes to plan?"

"It will."

"Harry mate, your optimism is always inspiring but... if something does go wrong we need a back up plan." Ron said carefully, not wanting to necessarily agree with Tom so vocally.

"Then we fight. Like we always do. We fight till we can't, and we can't lead them back here. The Order would be finished if they found any of our safe houses." He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, they felt like two dead weights were lugging inside his head.

"And," Kingsley cleared his throat, now looking to Tom. "We need to keep you out of any Death Eaters sight. I highly doubt they'd even recognize you, but never the less. You-Know-Who can see all his followers thoughts and memories, the last thing we need is him knowing that -" he took a slow breath. Debating.

"The last thing we need him knowing is that you're here, on our side."

Tom didn't object the statement, he merely nodded.

"Understood."