Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Nineteen

Tom also looked at them all, his neck craned up slightly to fully take it in. He hasn't kept up to date on the muggle war going on, but he wasn't ignorant like most of the wizarding war. He knew how deadly it was, just from the bombings alone. Not to mention the ever rising death toll. Still, he felt an emptiness. Like he should be feeling something, but he just couldn't.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" Delilah muttered, more to herself. She wasn't expecting a reply.

"People die everyday for a faith rooted in a lost cause. They go in as pigs for slaughter. And the young see it as honorable." Tom said this as he caught sight of a group of young kids playing in the street, all pretending to shoot at one another with hand guns. "Men get torn to shreds, wives weep, kids live on with bitter hearts." His voice was soft, his eyes trained on a picture of a twenty two year old man who was enlisted in the Royal Air Force. He died two weeks ago.

"Muggles are fighting a war full to the brim with blood, I expect the cup to overflow soon"

Delilah felt her throat tighten as she turned to look at him. His expression was the most curious thing. It wasn't blank per say, she didn't know how to explain it. He looked curious. "And you're okay with that?" She said quietly. She knew he wasn't the best person, but more terrible characteristics keep piling up against him.

Her eyes turned back to the faces of young men. Any one of them could've been Tom. If he were a muggle, he would've been enlisted and shipped off to some version of hell this war had created. And whether or not he lived, a part of himself would die on whatever battlefield he fought on. War does that to people. War could do that to Tom.

She felt sick.

Delilah tugged on his sleeve and turned away. Tom eyed the picture of the pilot a moment longer. He looked at the name, some part of his brain told him not to forget it.

Aaron Cloverfield.

They head back to Diagon Alley and stop in an ancient looking bookshop, the shelves much higher than the ceiling should've allowed. An expansion charm no doubt.

Tom was off browsing in another isle, probably to find some information that could help his new study. Delilah realized he hadn't been sleeping much lately, it wasn't necessarily noticeable. Tom looked put together as usual, but there was a heaviness to his eyes. He was spending every hour he could doing research.

She wondered when she should tell him about the symbol.

Delilah let her fingers trail over the worn spines of books, each looking much older than she was. She ended up in the back corner, seeing as the books got more interesting the further she went. A book on the lowest shelf caught her eye, gold lettering glinting against green.

Bending down, she read the title and grabbed it with nimble fingers. It wasn't that old, but the pages were ruffled with use. The book was filled with famous old Ministry reports.

She sat down on the floor, something that was most likely frowned upon, but she didn't care. Flipping open the book, she gazed across the report files with mild interest.

One name stood out though, and she felt her body leaning towards the book in intrigue. It was a report on Grindelwald from 1926, in New York City. The file was transferred from the MACUSA.

Her eyes read over the lines quickly, taking in the events of what happened. Her lips tilted up a bit at the mention of Newt Scamander's name. She always admired that strange man. Towards the bottom of the page there was a quote cited from Grindelwald himself concerning the Statue of Secrecy.

"A law that has us scuttling like rats in the gutter. A law that demands that we conceal our true nature. A law that directs those under its dominion to cower in fear, lest we risk discovery. I ask you, Madam President, I ask all of you — who does this law protect? Us, or them? I refuse to bow down any longer."