Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Twenty Four

But she did seem to wake something so deeply buried inside him, that it was unrecognizable as himself. But it was, Tom had just hidden it so many years ago he forgot it even existed.

"How did you piece this together?"

"You. You told me. In my sixth year. Gave me such a clear warning, even his bloody name, and I still didn't piece it together until now."

"What did I say?"

Her brows furrowed, thinking he wouldn't want her to tell him considering the whole spew of undoing the natural line of history. Nonetheless, she recalled the speech he gave back at the beginning of term feast her sixth year. She felt a jab to her heart at remembering that was the last one he'd ever give, considering it was the year he was murdered.

Removing his glasses, Dumbledore rubbed at the corners of his eyes with two fingers, "yes it all makes sense now."

"What does?" She hated when he did that, he never gave a straight answer, carrying himself cryptically. Although he may do it absentmindedly. "Delilah, this may be hard to hear, however I feel it's vital that you do anyway. No matter if you don't understand."

Her teeth gritted and she sat back in the chair, twirling Elio's necklace, the pull of the chain around her neck oddly comforting. She wanted to yell at him to spit it out, but his gaze became wary as he looked at her.

"Mr. Riddle needs to go to the Ministry with you."

Stiffening for only a moment, she then shot out of her chair, making it fall back and hit the floor. "Are you mental? Did you not just hear me say he fired the fucking killing curse at me?"

"Sit down," his voice was crisp as he looked at her, his twinkling eyes burning into hers. He waved his hand and the chair was upright again. She wanted to argue, but that would get her nowhere, so begrudgingly she sat.

"Delilah listen to me. He is not... what was it you called him that one time? Ah yes, Voldemort. He is not that monster. Not yet. That creature you saw at the Ministry isn't the person you know. Voldemort is irrational, brash, and kills without a whim of remorse. That isn't Tom. You know that. He is just an eighteen year old boy who's very lost at the moment."

Biting at her cheek, Delilah shook her head and turned to look out the window. How could she believe what Dumbledore was saying is true? After all she's seen, after what she's been through. What he himself has put her through.

Now, and in the future.

"So you're suggesting we change the entire course of history?"

"No," he corrected, his eyes sharp. Though there was that underlying glint that he knew something else, something that he wouldn't tell her. He sighed then, his age suddenly catching up to him in that moment, the late afternoon sun catching in the grays of his auburn hair.

"Mr. Riddle can get you into the Ministry, Delilah. And then you will be well on your way home, the course of time will continue as it was originally laid out." He tapped his nose and gave her a smile.

"Things will work out better than you might expect, don't fret."

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When she left Dumbledore's office silently fuming, she made a beeline for Ravenclaw tower. She couldn't bring herself to walk to the dungeons in fear of who'd she'd run into, whether it be the boys or Tom.

After answering the riddle, Delilah frantically looked around the common room before her eyes settled on a familiar face.

"Alek, hey." She smiled at him the best she could, holding her chin up and her shoulders back, she didn't need people asking questions.