Tom thought he had seen pure loathing during the period where Delilah hated him. Maybe she still did, it wouldn't be surprising. He surely thought nothing and no one could surpass that sheer level of resentment.

He was quickly proved wrong.

This was different, the air was thick with the mingled breath of fear and abhorrence. Tom gauged their expressions as he sat quietly, bound painfully to a wooden chair in some drafty room. He tried shifting to the best of his ability, but the ropes strained against his skin with a sharp sting.

Tom supposed it was reasonable. After all, his apparent future self was responsible for the hell they were currently living in. Except now he appeared as nothing but a boy, the same age or younger than half of them.

They had been questioning him for what appeared to be hours. A back part of his mind kept drifting to Delilah, wondering if she was awake and okay. He was partly concerned she'd start bleeding out again, not trusting anyone there to help her properly but himself.

Over time he supposed he's taken on a duty of care for her.

A headache was blooming, the questions being relentless. Kingsley was there and was accompanied by a man with red hair, littered in scars. After a few moments assessing the aged wounds he quickly drew the conclusion it'd been from a werewolf attack.

Curious.

The questions were rather dull in his opinion.

Who are you?

He felt that was obvious.

How did you come into contact with Delilah Meddows?

That one was vaguely complicated.

What do you know of the resistance?

From his perspective they looked like they were losing, which was a tad concerning. They seemed ignorant to the fact, blinded by misplaced optimism. Sure they had hope, but that's anyone. Hope doesn't win wars, despite all those silly little stories parents tell their children about at night.

Do you know who Albus Dumbledore is?

Unfortunately.

Et cetera, et cetera.

Dull.

He answered them swiftly, not having to mull it over considering none of their inquiries dug at any of his underlying motives. He'd leave the task of telling them about their mission involving the Deathly Hallows up to Delilah.

The door opened, only then did Tom notice how silent outside seemed to be. Wards were put up, extensively. Walking in it was Harrison, he was tense but determined and his eyes didn't draw away from Tom.

"Anything?"

"This is a rather tedious situation, we're still treading on where to even begin."

"Can we get Meddows down here?" Bill asked. He seemed young but painfully worn down with stress.

Harrison shook his head, "we'll have to wait a bit longer, Granger said she's still out. There's something wrong with her though-,"

"Perhaps I can enlighten you on the matter?" Tom suddenly spoke, causing the three men to whirl around.

They looked immensely placid at the notion of getting insight from him. Their body language was stiff, guarded, he could see their hands itching to grab their wands and hex him. Kill him even, if they were to be so bold.

Tom needed to navigate this clearly. Somehow he needed to not necessarily gain their trust- that he knew would be impossible given their time crunch- but to at least prove his point where his loyalty lied.

Which was with Delilah, and if he were to be so generous, by default it lied with the Order.

There was a fine line between self preservation and just being ignorant. Clearly the other version of himself, Voldemort, failed to recognize that. He recalled something he'd read in a book one late night in the library on muggle philosophy; allegory of the cave. Yes, that was it. He wondered if that's what was happening within this pathetic little resistance. Were they choosing to ignore the obvious facts in front of them so they wouldn't have to deal with the crushing weight of their impending failure?

Or perhaps he was just severely pessimistic on their behalf.

He sighed through his nose, ignorance was a safety net he couldn't afford.

"How could you help us? You're him." Harrison bit out, his jaw clenching so tightly Tom thought it would lock.

"Do I look like him?" He tilted his head to an angle, his hair falling in his eyes and in the dim lighting he really did appear just as an eighteen year old boy. There was a weight behind his eyes Kingsley didn't miss though, Tom was tired. The exhaustion was nearly obvious. But under all that there was just a hint of unease that would even be seen as fear.

For himself? The older man wasn't sure, but in the back of his head it said it was for the girl upstairs.

Delilah awoke with a groan, burying her head deeply into the pillow until she was forced to take a breath. There was a small laugh and she twisted around, blowing hair out of her eyes to see Hermione sat at her desk.

"How long have I been out?"

"Nearly a day."

"Christ," she sighed as she turned to lay on her back, rubbing at her eyes that were still heavy with sleep. When she remembered Tom was downstairs, she forced herself to sit up and tried to best shake off the dizziness she felt.

Clearing her throat, her mouth was painfully dry and she was about to ask for some water before Hermione was already at her side with a glass. She gave her a warm smile and thankfully took the drink, the cool liquid sliding down her throat with a generous gulp.

"He isn't being tortured, is he?"

Hermione sat down, choosing her words carefully. "Unless relentless questions count, then no. They haven't let Harry anywhere near him. In fact they sent him out on some field work to let off some steam."

"Harry doesn't exactly think things through when he's angry," Delilah said and Hermione's eyes met hers sharply. Though it wasn't said, she got the hint. She really wasn't the one to talk. After all she brought Tom Riddle to the future.

"You know you're going to have to explain everything to everyone eventually, it might as well be now."

"But-"

"Delilah if you wait it'll only be worse, or they'll force you to talk. They won't want to be patient either. You owe everyone answers."

Biting her cheek, she wanted to roll her eyes but refrained. "Why are you always right?"

Her friend smiled, "I'm not always right."

"Well you're honest, they usually go hand in hand."

"My honesty has gotten me into a lot of trouble lately."

Delilah's brows furrowed, "what do you mean?"

Licking her lip, she lifted her legs onto the bed and hugged them to her chest. "Well there's been a lot of arguments on how we were to move forward these past few months, since the ministry mission fell through. I had some ideas that might be a bit too progressive for everyone right now. Honesty isn't always the most diplomatic approach."

"What did you suggest?"

There was a heated pause as Hermione picked at the hem of her jumper, "that we stop taking prisoners."

She got the hint that wasn't all, "and?"

"Don't think of me as terrible."

"'Mione I'm the last person who would ever think that."

"Well, I mean to put it bluntly, during battles or if any sympathizers with the Dark Lord fell into our presence... I suggest the order to forcefully stripinformation or kill on sight."

That took Delilah by surprise, causing her to stare at Hermione blankly for a few seconds. Hermione covered her face, "I know it sounds terrible but-"

"No it's not that," she cut in, finally getting her wits about her. "We're desperate. The world is. But I think you're right, it's too much of a step forward for them to consider I think. Even if they need to, I don't know how everyone would be convinced. More than half of The Order is set in their ways and I don't think they'd be willing to stray away from their morals."

"Exactly! Merlin, that's so refreshing to hear," Hermione fell backwards and her hair fluffed out around her. "I can't even tell you the amount of screaming matches Ron and I had at each other over this, it was awful. He made me feel so disgusted with myself for even suggesting it. But think how many lives we'd save."

Right, how many lives they could save. With Tom now on their side, or at least she prayed to the fates that he truly was, they could save thousands.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"How does this change things? With Tom, I mean. Him being here?"

Turning to perch herself up on her side, Hermione's brows furrowed as she thought it over.

  Everyone gathered in the downstairs kitchen, some sitting and some standing, staring at Delilah expectantly.

Who of which was wringing her hands nervously behind her back, partially rocking back and forth on her feet. Hermione stood at her side, her gaze heated as she looked at Harry as a silent 'behave'.

Looking off to her left, Tom stood leaning against the wall. He looked annoyed as far as she could tell but he kept his expressions at bay. They'd put some sort of magic dampener around his left wrist, the silver material looked as if it was melted into his skill. It essentially limited his abilities to only basic magic, and they had taken away his wand.

Personally, he didn't think it was necessary. But he understood. If it helped them sleep a little easier he didn't blame them.

Clearing her throat, she looked at everyone again before starting on her long, and surely confusing story of what happened to her.

Throughout her explanation, there were many furrowed brows, sounds of exasperation and shock, disgust, some small laughs, and she didn't even know how many questions were thrown at her. Hermione tried to help, but no one would even look in Tom's general direction.

Despite himself he wasn't used to being so acutely ignored. He was typically always the center of attention, or close to it.

Everyone appeared to be actively trying to ignore his existence.

Harry wasn't giving much away of what he thought, however at every mention of Dumbledore there was a slight stirring of some harbored emotion in his green eyes.

Finally, Cormac asked that question that was weighing in everyone's hearts.

"How can the future not be changed?"

Hermione stepped forward, beginning on her long explanation of her theory about how she believed time was a forward progression. "This had to have already happened," she finished with.

There was a long pause as everyone tried to comprehend this when Tom shook his head, "it can't have."

Everyone flinched, turning to watch him careful and some had even grabbed their wands. One of them being Harry, a spell to render him unconscious surely on his tongue.

Tom ignored them all, his eyes trailing to Delilah for a moment before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to them all. He spotted one girl with white hair and the oddest of earrings, they looked like radishes.

She didn't look at him with anger or fear, he couldn't explain it. She had a sort of passive, dreamy state about her. It was mildly unsettling.

"I don't believe anything is set in stone, time isn't a strict line. We know that because time travel is possible and we're able to move back and forth. Although Miss Granger's theory could make sense on a series of different levels, there's also a high probability of contradiction. No choices can be predicted."

Tom took a pause, gauging their reaction to see if everyone was following along. For the most part they were, but there were still a few confused looks. Most also seemed reluctant to even be listening to him. Nonetheless he continued.

"What if we've split the timeline? Coexisting, but now separate? What the final result is, is still up for debate now that there's new factors to take into account. Perhaps in the original where Delilah didn't get sent back in time, the 'original' history took its course. But now..." he gestured to himself. "You have a new card to play."

"Brilliant." Hermione blurted before she thought better of it, catching a glare from Ron.

"In reality though, we have to recognize we won't truly know. We can't know if this was always meant to happen or not. The events are already taking place now, we can't back track them, not in our reality." Tom's eyes trailed to his clever little witch again, his lips quirking up to the side though no one noticed but her.

"Anything can happen."