Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Four

  The thought seemed foolish, but he had a connection to it. Well, no, it wasn't foolish. Ollivander had told him the wand chooses the wizard. Tom remembered the joy and pride he felt when Ollivander told him he was the first person to ever have a Phoenix feather core. Furthermore proving that he was special, that he was different.

  Cain cleared his throat and Tom blinked, realizing he hadn't spoken for nearly five minutes. "Dismissed." He waved his hand and they bowed their heads before leaving. He nestled further into the chair as he stared at the fire, digging into his jacket pocket he pulled out a packet of muggle cigarettes. He'd gotten addicted to the nasty things over the summer at the orphanage, but as long as no one knew he didn't see a problem.

  Standing up, he rolled his shoulders and made his way to his room. The Head Boy had his own quarters. It was a large room, much bigger than that of the regular dorms. His was about the size of two put together, he had a large bed with black silk sheets and emerald green velvet curtains. The floor was a dark wood and he had his own fireplace. In front of it was a couch and chair, both a black leather, for simple lounging. To the left was a desk and a small bookshelf. On the right was his dresser.

  He walked over to his large window and propped it open, resting his elbows in the edge, he snapped his fingers and they caught fire. A clever use of wandless magic he picked up at Malfoy Manor one Christmas, and he lit the cigarette. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled smoke through his nose as his eyes danced around the quiet grounds of Hogwarts.

  The next morning, Delilah stumbled out of bed at the break of dawn. She wasn't used to a school time table anymore. Seeing as she's been a bit too busy trying not to die. She failed at that, she supposed. As she zipped up her skirt she frowned in the mirror. What she would give to get her sweatpants back. It was still dark outside and she blindly stumbled into the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. Olive didn't really seem to like her that much, so Delilah didn't want to provide a reason for the girl to hex her in her sleep.

  Rubbing at her eyes till black dots appeared, Delilah yawned and quickly brushed her teeth. The library was first on her list, she wanted to do some research on time travel. And if it came down to it, she'd even poke around the restricted section. Delilah wasn't too worried about that, Dumbledore would surely give her permission.

  She grabbed her shoes and tip toed out of the room, figuring she'd just put them on in the common room so she wouldn't make noise on the wood. She sat down on one of the couches and found herself sinking into the plush comforter. After lacing the shoes up, they had about a two inch heel, which she found ridiculous, she made her way out of the Dungeons.

  She used one of the shortcuts she knew to get to the library without anyone seeing her. Delilah was too tired to bump into one of the boys and explain how she knew how to get to the library. Peaking open the door, Delilah let out a sigh at the familiar smell of books. The Library was identical to the one in her time. Save for there was no Madam Pince breathing down the necks of students. The sun was rising so warm orange-pink light filtered through the high windows. The tables were empty and Delilah felt alone all the sudden. But she was at peace with the feeling.

  It felt like she was the only one in the world and this was her safe haven. The books sat on the shelves longing for her to pick them up as her fingers ran over the spines lightly. For the first time since she's been in the past, she felt at home again. Hogwarts was her home. But this one was just so vastly different. The people were different. The uniforms were different. Dumbledore was different. She was different. Delilah had to become someone else here. She still had her first name and her thoughts. But everything else changed. How she had to act, how she had to hold herself, her background, her house, even how she ate.

  And oh yes, she had to be incredibly careful. She mentally thanked Hermione for forcing her to take Occlumens seriously. Who knows? Someone could get too curious about her and try to read her mind. Then they'd see her memories. They'd see the inferno that the future becomes. They'd get scared. And when people get scared they lash out. Which could lead to a few different endings. They could pity her, which Delilah did not want. They could try to help her get back to the future, though she didn't think they would, seeing as the future is a literal hell. But no, they shouldn't help, because that could change the future and so many lives would be at risk. They could kill her in an act of fear. They could use her for information. They could hurt her.

  A headache pricked at her mind. It was all too much and too early to be wondering about all the 'what if's'. She didn't want to stress about it, but that was inevitable. She had to worry about getting back to her time. If she didn't, she'd be stuck in place she didn't belong. And again, she could drastically, monumentally, destroy the space time continuum. Not that the current future isn't messed up as is, but it could get a lot worse

  She had a stack of about eight books and the weight was straining on her arms, causing her hands to cramp and she sat on the floor in one of the isles. It was only about six in the morning, so nobody else should be up for another two hours. She lit a torch that was on the wall near her and began to read. There were many different theories but none of them so far were conclusive. She huffed and slammed the third book shut. "Fucking ridiculous, I swear. Do none of these idiots have a single unique thought?" She muttered to herself and nearly screamed when someone chuckled.

  Delilah looked up and saw Tom leaning against the bookshelf about ten feet away. His hands were tucked into his pockets and one leg was crossed over the other at the ankle. He looked down at her through his long lashes and curiosity and amusement flickered in his eyes. Delilah silently appreciated the uniforms of the forties at Hogwarts. They were nice, dark grey suits, that fit Tom's toned form quite nicely. "Why're you here?" The question left her mouth before she gave it much thought, her tone accusatory. "And good morning." Delilah quickly added and tucked some hair behind her ear.

  Tom watched as she looked up at him through her own long lashes. He'd only just noticed how richly dark blue her eyes were. He mused silently at her blunt question and watched as she instantly regretted it. Interesting that she seemed to panic. "Good morning." He laughed lightly and tilted his head. "And I'm here because I had an essay to work on. May I ask why you are here?" Delilah watched as his curls swayed with the movement of his head.

  "Just some light reading."

  He raised a brow and indicated towards her large stack of books, the height nearly went up to her shoulders. "Light reading?" She flushed and picked up another book, as she did so she grabbed her wand and lightly flicked it, so as to disguise the titles. She inwardly cringed once she saw they all changed to sappy romance novels. Note, she didn't mind reading those from time to time, but the amused and- disappointed? The look he was giving her made Delilah blush even more. He hid the disappointment quickly but she was an observant girl. "I was bored." She shrugged and with the wave of her wand the books went back to their original places.

  "What time is it?" She asked and he looked at his pocket watch that was attached to his, again, well fitted vest. "Around seven thirty. Shall I walk you to breakfast?" Delilah stared for a moment at the hand he held out, his skin was pale and his fingers long. As she placed her hand in his, she felt the roughened skin on his thumb and index finger. Her hand was considerably smaller than his as it fully clasped around it. Tom tugged her gently upward and ignored just how cold she was. Perhaps it was bad circulation? He let go of her but his eyes flickered to her hands again. They weren't just cold, they felt as if they've been dumped into a bucket of ice.

  His eyes dragged up to her face and Delilah fought down a chill that ravished up her back. His face was calculating and dark. "Shall we?" He held out his arm and Delilah eyed it confused before it dawned on her. Right, men were chivalrous back then. "Oh, yes. Of course." She cleared her throat and picked up her bag, only to have it nicked from her hands. "Allow me." He smiled at her and she blinked at him in astonishment.

  Men were really chivalrous back then.

  She looped her arm through his and he led the way to the Great Hall, carrying her bag as they went.