Hierarchy of Need [REWRITTEN]

Chapter Twelve

"Yeah." She breathed. "I'm alright."

Tom sighed at the lie.

"And no."

He was observing his wand, the only indication that he heard her was the quirk of one brow.

"I can't go to Avery's manor."

Tom turned to her, the sheets strained with the movement.

"Tell him I said thank you for the offer, though." Delilah wanted to move away from Tom, but when she tried, she hit the headboard.

He didn't miss the notion and his lips pulled up. She was afraid of him and he hadn't the faintest clue why. He was intimidating, he knew that, and he had the ability to hurt her, Tom proved that when they dueled.

Yet she proved she had the capability of not only wounding him, but nearly killing him.

Admittedly, he did let his control slip that one time when he pushed her into a classroom and pinned her to a wall. But that was the least of what he could do.

Delilah would make it so much easier on herself if she didn't analyze everything he did, if she let her curiosity drop, and just stay away from him.

Could he do the same for her?

No. He couldn't. How quickly he answered the question, and with ease, was unnerving, but Tom dismissed it. She was fascinating. Every time he talked to her, something more interesting and strange got added to the mystery that was Delilah Pontmercy. Tom indebted himself to putting each fragment together himself, piece by piece. Part of himself wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

As soon as he figured out who she was, he could move on and Delilah would no longer be a distraction.

The other half wanted to drag this out, take his time, and savor it. He hadn't met someone so enticing in ages and he found himself almost not wanting to let go of such a challenge.

Tom nodded and stood up.

Delilah nearly frowned, the bed felt like a sheet of ice all the sudden.

"I will notify Avery as soon as I see him, then."

As Delilah dragged herself to Dumbledore's office, Slughorn's yelling was still ringing in her ears. He was a furious blubber of a man when he'd burst through the infirmary doors. Tom and Delilah had gotten a week's worth of detention, which wasn't that bad considering how seriously they harmed each other. They also wouldn't be serving the detentions till after break, and Delilah hoped he'd forget about the incident until then.

Raising a fist, Delilah knocked once before the door swung open. "Are you alright Miss Pontmercy? I heard about your little predicament." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes were soft as he stared down at her, it warmed Delilah to the core and she felt like hugging him.

She settled for a smile. "I'm alright, you wanted to see me?" Delilah was in no mood to talk about Tom any longer. Or anything concerning the past twenty four hours.

"Ah," he clicked his tongue. "Yes, I've had a revelation."

Her eyes widened.

Had he figured it out? Was she going home? Merlin, she felt like she was going to faint. A smile reached her lips, but it left as quickly as it came.

"A pensieve!" He cheered and revealed a large, thin bowl on his desk with a swirling liquid inside.

She wasn't going home.

Delilah scolded herself for being such a pessimist.

She wasn't going home. Yet.

As Dumbledore explained what the pensieve was, she stepped closer and observed finely carved runic text marking the sides. She knew what a pensieve did, but the man seemed excited so she let him ramble.