Chapter Twenty Three

60K 2.4K 20.5K
                                    

Sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, Delilah was playing a rather tedious game of trying to understand how chess worked. She'd sat there dumbfounded as Septimus tried to explain it to her, but she gave up and thought she ought to just watch.

So currently she was observing Aleksander and Septimus play, both focused and extremely well versed in the game. Part of her knew Weasley would win, he was related to Ron after all.

And Merlin was that boy ridiculously good at chess.

As expected, Septimus won. He wore a subtlety cocky grin as he stood up and stretched. "Well this has been fun, but I'm afraid I have some studying to get to."

Delilah snorted, trying to picture Ron studying by choice. Septimus raised a brow at her but she waved a hand, "sorry, you just reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

Her eyes danced along the freckles that scattered his cheeks, his fiery red hair, and his crooked smile, "an old friend."

After he left, she turned to Aleksander, a million questions running through her head. He was sitting on the floor, leaned against the couch and he gestured to the spot next to him. He barely missed a beat, the moment she sat down next to him, his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Go on and spit it out," he grinned at her, making Delilah's cheeks heat up slightly, they were oddly close. "Spit what out?" Her brow was raised and she pretended to reach for a book, a weak attempt at getting some space between them.

"You've got questions, I can see it in your eyes. You're not as good at hiding things as you think you are."

That statement rested on her shoulders uneasily, but she simply cleared her throat as she craned her neck towards him. He was strangely attractive, but his looks seemed made up, in a sense. Like that of a model.

Tom's beauty was more natural.

Delilah grimaced at her thoughts, shaking her head and focusing as much as she could on the boy in front of her. "Aleksander-"

"Alek, please." His lips always seemed to be pulled into a small grin, something that was rather charming but gave off the aura of concealed mischief. "Alek," Delilah said slowly, trying the name out on her tongue.

"Tell me about your brother, has he responded to your owl yet?"

"What owl?"

She stared at him pointedly, not amused in the slightest and he let out a dry laugh. "No he has yet to respond, it's only been three days, he's usually slow with these sorts of things. I'd expect a response in a day or two, don't worry." He plucked a chess piece off the board, rolling it between his fingers as his eyes became unfocused for a moment.

"He's a down right arse though, so him willing to help us is a fifty-fifty shot, I don't want you getting your hopes up," Alek nudged her lightly in the side, his grin slowly slipping from his lips. Delilah knew that look all too well, "family trouble?"

"Do you have an older sibling?"

After her nod, he sighed slightly through his nose, his dark eyes focused on the chess piece in hand; the King. "Well, being eldest comes with a certain narcissism, apparently. And being the youngest means you always get compared. Then eventually it gets to a certain point where you purposely want to screw up, sort of as a "fuck you" to mum and dad." He set the piece down on the board, watching the way the figure moved.

"That's sort of where I am right now, my reckless phase. I'm tired of living in his shadow." With a flick of his finger, the King fell over and he looked at her, a genuine smile tilting at his lips. "I want to do something myself, something for myself, something monumental."

Hierarchy of Need [t.r]Where stories live. Discover now