Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Forty One

  Her gaze traveled towards the pile of dirt that lay a few yards away, her forehead pressed to the cool glass of the window. Had it really only been two days? It felt as if an eternity had passed. Delilah could vividly remember her falling to her knees when Dumbledore had arrived outside their wards with Elio's body. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned the body of blood and fixed him with new robes. Ready for burial.

  Shaking her head, Delilah's blank stare swept over the room. It was a mess, she didn't care. Tom didn't bother to clean up either, allowing her time to cope in a way she saw fit. Now that she thought of him, she hadn't seen Tom since the funeral. They still needed to talk, about so much. Imagining how the conversation would go felt exhausting. Everything felt exhausting. She hadn't eaten anything but a muffin and she slept most of the time. Not dreaming, not having nightmares, just.. sleep. Her mind was void and she was thankful for it.

  There was a light tap on the door and she called for them to come in, her voice quiet. The door creaked open, and in walked Dumbledore. Oh right, she thought, she forgot he was still at the house. He sighed through his nose at the state of her, but didn't comment. Instead he gestured towards the couch that resided next to the fireplace and she mutely nodded.

  Sinking into the fabric, he conjured himself a chair and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, after running a hand through his graying hair, he spoke. "How are you?" She gestured to the room, "how do you think?" He leaned back, taking in the dark circles that hung under her eyes.

  "It was painless, I want you to know that. When it happened, the nerves in his spinal chord shut down the transmission of pain to his brain. The most he felt was tired."

  Delilah inhaled deeply, slowly exhaling through her nose as she stared at the floor. She didn't know if that was supposed to make her feel better. "It's not fair," she eventually said, wringing her hands as she recalled Elio pushing her out of the way. "I know, and I am sorry." Dumbledore spoke softly. She was thankful for his patience with her. 

  "You know," he began, pulling a lemon drop from his robes and offering her one, she shook her head. "He left a mark on you. I wasn't sure, but from what the other's described, when magic exploded from you, that was because of him."

  She bit at her lip as she pulled her knees up to her chest, "what do you mean?"

  He looked at her for a moment, his eyes twinkling in the afternoon light that filtered into the room. "It's called sacrificial protection. It's an ancient, powerful, and long lasting counter charm. It is endowed when one person ultimately sacrifices their own life willingly and out of deep, pure love to save the life of someone.

  "Elio died to save you, and I know you will forever carry that weight. The love he had for you was powerful enough to leave a mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who had loved us is gone, will give some protection forever." He watched as tears welled in her eyes, her hand gripping her necklace with white knuckles. 

  She closed her eyes, hot tears streaking down her cheeks. She loved him, she truly did, but now he was gone and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. If she had never had come to the past, Elio would still be alive.

  "I don't know if this is the most appropriate time but," Dumbledore cleared his throat and pulled at the tufts of his beard. "I can offer you another time turner."