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She walked with the boys back to the common room, they held light and amusing conversation. At one point Pyrrhus said something and Elio put him in a headlock. They laughed loudly and Tom shook his head at the sight of them. They were utter children.

He eyed Delilah and saw she held a look of amusement and, and something else. He didn't know what.

As Delilah watched them rough house, she didn't know why but a wave of sadness hit her as well as familiarity.

"Well, goodnight." She told them and they all waved as she walked down the hall.

Once Tom heard her door close he turned to the rest of them. He kept his voice down since other students were filing into the common room. "Meeting at midnight." He said simply and they all nodded obediently. With that he turned and left for the Head Boys dormitory.

Delilah got into her room and she spotted two girls on their respective beds. Her own bed was remade and a fresh uniform was laid on top. She walked over and felt the fabric. It was a grey pleated skirt, a nice white button down, a grey knitted vest with a green accent on the neck line, a green tie, tights, knee socks that had a trim of lace, leather shoes with a slight heel, and her robes.

She picked up her school robes and examined them with interest. It seemed rather prudish, perhaps she was just used to skirts being above the knee.

Would she get in trouble for rolling up the hem?

"You're the new girl." A voice suddenly said and Delilah spun around, her hand gripping her wand in her pocket. She relaxed as she noted it was one of her roommates.

"Yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I am. I'm Delilah, nice to meet you."

The girl was pale and had long, raven black hair and dark eyes. She looked Delilah over for a minute before smiling. It was small, but it was there. "I like your shoes." She commented and Delilah looked down at her red converse.

Right, she'd have to store those away for now.

"I'm Lolita Tremblay." Lolita nodded towards the other girl. Delilah's eyes shifted over to her and found that the brunette was glaring at her. "That's Olive Hornby. She's a bit bitter at the moment, ignore her."

"She can hear you." Olive huffed and made her way over. "I don't trust new people, don't take it to heart, dear." Olive eyed her over as well and Delilah shifted a bit on her feet.

"Right well, nice to meet you both. I'm just gonna hop in the bathroom." She went to her dresser and was delighted to see they provided her with bedwear as well.

After a quick wash, she changed into the clothes and laughed slightly at herself in the mirror. The pants were light and airy and reached her mid calf, and the shirt was of the same material. There was no way in hell she was sleeping in this, it was too much fabric.

Ten till midnight rolled around the corner and the boys snuck their way out of the common room to the Head Boys. The Head Girl was doing her rounds so the common room was to themselves. When they entered, Tom was already sitting in a large chair off to the side of the fireplace.

"Question." He said simply and the boys fell silent. "What do we think of Miss Delilah Pontmercy?"

They eyed each other warily before Rosier cleared his throat. "She seems nice. And based on her classes, smart." Tom hummed and his fingers twirled his wand elegantly.

"Yes, intelligent." He wondered if she possibly bought her way into N.E.W.T classes, like Malfoy, but her last name wasn't of any reputable wealth. In fact, he's never even heard of it. So she was most likely a halfblood or mudblood. He wasn't going to rush to bring this to attention, though. Again, there was something off about her. Something wrong. She carried herself too carefully and always seemed to think too much before she spoke.

Then again, it could just be anxiety.

"Keep an eye on her."

They looked at each other but nodded.

"Now, to more pressing matters. This is our last year, and although Dumbledore said he'd consider me for a position, he's clearly lying. He's good at hiding everything except his disdain for me." Just thinking about the man set off a fire inside Tom. Everything would be working much more smoothly if he never admitted to how he enjoyed hurting people to get what he wanted.

He was naive and a fool when he first met Dumbledore.

Tom rubbed his eyes as the memory shot its way forward. He'd just turned eleven and a strange man showed up at the orphanage asking to speak with him.

He was being confined to his room because he'd gotten in trouble for stealing a kids ball. He wanted to borrow it, but the boy wouldn't give it to him, so he got angry and suddenly the boy was thrown back and the ball was in his hand.

Tom had started to realize he was different from the other kids. That he was special. But his so-called talent always seemed to get him in trouble.

Then this man came into his room and smiled at him, and Tom felt that same aura of strangeness surrounding him. Tom immediately took a liking to Dumbledore, funny enough.

Although Tom already knew he was something abstract from usual kids, Dumbledore confirmed his theory. He'd told him he could do magic and a genuine cheerful laugh escaped his lungs. But then it went downhill from there. Tom showed Dumbledore how he could light his dresser on fire, how he could take things if he wanted them, and how he could make people hurt.

And that glimmer left Dumbledore's eyes as concern shielded them. As Dumbledore was leaving, Tom panicked, thinking he wouldn't let him attend this lovely school he'd called Hogwarts.

He told Dumbledore he could talk to snakes.

That then sealed his fate, Dumbledore would never grow to trust Tom.

He sneered and pushed the flashback away. He couldn't believe he could be so stupid. But he supposed it had to happen. There was no going back to change it. If he would have never told Dumbledore of his little talent, he might have never been allowed to come to Hogwarts. He'd never tell anyone, but this castle was his home. And he was indebted to it, in a sense.

"About this summer," he began and watched as the boys tensed. "Malfoy, Rosier, are you still able to go to France?"

They both nodded.

"My parents have left me the summer house, as a graduation gift of sorts. If we need to regroup, it's available." Rosier said and Tom appraised him silently.

"Good, if I am correct, that's where Grindelwald will be passing time. Lestrange and Avery, you will be stationed back in London for the time being. Grindelwald still does not trust you, Lestrange, thanks to your lovely aunt."

Lestrange shivered slightly and clenched his jaw. His aunt Leta had gone against Grindelwald and was killed in the Lestrange Mausoleum. His parents always told him about it, how she'd been a blood traitor.

Despite anyone else's knowledge, he had a news clipping back from 1927, the year she died. She was between two men of the Scamander line and she was to be married to Newt. Though, he supposed she died before they ever could. He also had a copy of Newt Scamander's book he'd kept meaning to get signed. He wanted to meet Newt and ask about Leta. But his family would disown him and he could never work up the courage.

"Do you think it's true, then?" Malfoy asked and Tom lazily rolled his head to the side to look at him.

"Do I think what is true?"

Malfoy shifted his weight and tried his best to look Tom in the eyes. It might've only been five seconds, but to Malfoy an enternity passed. He seemed to shrink under Tom's heavy, scrutinizing gaze. His dark eyes were usually passive when they were in public, but in the privacy of their meetings something darker, something more dangerous, teased its way to the surface.

Malfoy looked away and Tom felt his lips tug upwards in a smirk. "That Grindelwald has the Elder Wand." Malfoy finished.

Tom sighed and looked away from him and into the fire. "Yes, if my research is correct. And it always is. Apparently, Grindelwald took it from Gregorovitch, who murdered Antioch Peverell. And at the age of around nineteen, maybe early twenties." Tom ran his fingers over his own wand delicately. If he were to obtain the ownership of the Elder Wand, which he was going to do, he didn't think he could so easily give up his own. He'd still keep it with him no doubt.

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. And 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.

Avery cleared his throat and Tom blinked, realizing he hadn't spoken for nearly five awhile. "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 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. Her body didn't appear to be used to a school time table anymore.

As she zipped up her skirt she debated with herself for a minute in front of the mirror. Eventually making the decision to indeed roll her skirt up an inch or two.

Maybe three.

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- and she made her way out of the Dungeons.

As she trailed down the halls she realized she probably should've asked where the library was. At this point she was hoping her mind would lead her there subconsciously.

Just when she was about to lose hope, the library was in her sights. Peaking open the door, Delilah let out a sigh at the smell of books. 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 some semblance of finally fitting in.

Biting at her lip as she walked down aisles, Delilah hoped her oculemency skills were up to par. Although she hoped no one would get too curious or bold enough to trespass into her thoughts, it was still a worry. Even though she couldn't remember much, just the fact that she was from the future would be disastrous.

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 not only getting her memories back but simply just getting back to her time. If she didn't, she'd be stuck in place she didn't belong.

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. 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 are you here?" The question left her mouth before she gave it much thought, her tone slightly 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're 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? 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'd 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 and there was something else. "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.

Or perhaps it was just the bare minimum, if she were being honest.

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