Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Thirty Five

Rough stone dug into his knees as he landed harshly on the ground. The wind had been knocked out of him and it took a moment to register his surroundings. They had landed in Hogsmeade by the looks of it, seeing as no one could apparate on Hogwarts grounds.

Standing up, Tom swayed on his feet and had to latch onto a post dug into the ground to catch his balance. His anger at Delilah attempting to leave him there didn't have time to simmer in his veins when he heard her scream. Whirling around, she laid on the ground a few feet away, her whole body jerking spasmodically. Running over, the sight of crimson was the first thing to grace his vision.

Delilah had gotten splinched on her left leg, chunks of her skin missing in an odd, swirling pattern. And it itched. She made to grab at her leg, a weak attempt to alleviate the pain somehow but Tom quickly tore her hands away.

He didn't have anything on his to heal the wound properly and he cursed under his breath before scrambling to dig his wand out from his back pocket. Tom quickly began to try to stop the bleeding, but there was so much it was hard to tell if anything was happening.

Delilah let out another sound of affliction when a door was suddenly thrown open behind them. "Oi, keep it down will you?" Tom didn't pay the person any kind, his attention solely on Delilah. However when she looked up, it was an old man with a white wiry beard, and his eyes seemed to twinkle slightly.

She was sweating, but seeing him brought the slightest bit of comfort. She knew exactly who that was. It was Dumbledore, just not the one she was looking for.

The man began to walk away but Delilah blurted out the words before she could think properly, "you're Aberforth Dumbledore."

He paused and took a second before turning around, blinking at her. Tom finally snapped out of it slightly and looked up, he did look awfully similar to Dumbledore. Though he never knew he had a brother. Aberforth tugged at his beard slightly as he observed the mess in front of him before begrudgingly muttering for them to come inside.

Tom placed his wand between his teeth before carefully maneuvering Delilah into a sitting position. For the most part he stopped the bleeding, but her skin was still a ghastly red and her torn flesh practically screamed in agitation. Throwing an arm over his shoulder, Tom slowly stood up and helped her walk inside the Hogs Head Inn.

Aberforth weaves between the empty tables, taking them to a back room just Incase someone decided to walk in. Not that he was expecting any business that day.

Delilah slumped in a wooden chair, her arm slipping off his shoulders too soon and she hissed in pain through her clenched teeth. "Do you have any dittany?" Tom asked as he kneeled down in front of her, the trim of her dress was soaked with blood and he pushed it up her leg to avoid it sticking to the wound.

Aberforth made a sound from the back of his throat and a few seconds later he handed a bottle to Tom. He uncorked the bottle and looked up at her, "this is going to sting." She nodded her head, trying to calm her breathing. "I'll be fine."

"A lot."

"Just pour the fucking potion-" her sentence was cut off as a scream as he poured droplets onto her leg. On instinct she kicked out and Tom grunted as her knee hit him under his ribs, but nonetheless he held her leg down. Greenish smoke billowed upward as the healing herb did its job. Tom watched curiously as the wound started to close, new muscle and skin growing and stretching over the opened flesh.

The wound now looked several days old; though it still burned slightly.

Looking down she frowned at the new scars that took over most of her thigh, ones she knew magic couldn't remove.