Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Twenty

Still, Tom could never turn down a good challenge. And a Dark Lord was splendid competition.

A thought occurred to him then, and Tom whirled around to look at Delilah with a curious gleam in his eye. She raised a brow, shifting slightly as she put down another trophy. She didn't like the way he was looking at her, "What?"

"How did you know Grindelwald's followers wear the mark?" She never did cease to catch him off guard now and then. She was like a book full of secrets he never knew he wanted to read. Delilah shrugged, "I probably read it somewhere, common knowledge," she waved her hand dismissively but Tom shook his head.

He walked closer to her and she leaned back slightly, only to find her back hitting the trophy case. Tom bent his knees as he knelt down to be at eye level with her, his dark gaze boring into her royal blue ones. "It's not common knowledge, darling. If it was, I would know about it... coming to think of it." She watched as he tilted his head, he was looking at her as if she was some rare artifact he stumbled upon. Panic started to crawl up her back, but she did her best to keep her features neutral.

"How do you know so much about the Deathly Hallows?" Delilah pulled her tongue away from the roof of her mouth and swallowed, her mouth felt painfully dry all the sudden. "I told you, I read about it-"

"Yes, everyone and their mother has read about it. But they think it's a mere fairytale, and they don't know about the mark. Nor do they know Grindelwald's supporters bare it." His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to decipher why she was lying, or why she even felt the need to. He was about to ask her something else, but the door opened and Slughorn bustled in, a smile on his face.

"It's lunch, you've a break for the time being."

His annoyance flared even more when he caught Delilah letting out a sigh of relief.

What was she hiding?

____________________________________

Delilah avoided the great Hall because Tom would undoubtedly be breathing down her neck the whole time, and because of Elio. She knew she needed to talk to him at some point, but he seemed just as keen on avoiding her as well.

So due to this predicament, she found herself sitting on the edge of the Great Lake, her legs dangling off a large rock, throwing random stones in and ignoring the way her stomach was growling and a certain boy who wouldn't stay the fuck out of her head. Of all people, why'd it have to be him to catch her slight fancy? It made her hate him even more.

Hearing the shuffle of rocks a few feet away, Delilah flinched and acted on impulse, drawing her wand and firing the first hex to come to mind. There was a slight gasp from the person and she blinked a few times before she registered who it was.

Olive was glaring at her, wand raised as she casted a protego on herself, and in her other hand she was clutching a small basket. "That's not how you're supposed to thank the person who brought you lunch." Delilah smiled awkwardly and patted the empty spot next to her, which was a lumpy rock but it made due.

Huffing, Olive carefully navigated her way around the rocks and sat herself down, halfheartedly shoving the basket in Delilah's hands. "Thank you," She muttered, the smell of a sandwich hitting her nose and making her stomach growl. Olive hummed and turned her gaze to the lake, trying her best to ignore the January air biting into her skin.

Looking over at Delilah, she was surprised the girl wasn't shivering, seeing as her own teeth started to chatter. "When are you going to talk to Elio, he's a proper mess at the moment. Merlin knows he won't talk to you first." Delilah sighed as she bit into her food, part of her wishing the lake would just swallow her whole and drown her. "I don't know, soon, maybe..."