"I know the name," Tom said carefully, watching as she downed yet another glass of alcohol. Delilah reached for the bottle and filled the cup, raising a brow at him to continue. Rolling his eyes, his sipped his whiskey more leisurely, "but I don't know who they are."

"Really?" She hummed, resting her elbows on her knees as she observed him critically, trying to read him. Though why she even tried was questionable, Tom Riddle was never easy to read. "I don't believe you."

Sighing slightly through his parted lips, he downed his own glass before nipping the bottle from her fingers to refill it. "Well that's a shame, would you like to look inside my head to see if I'm lying?" He nearly laughed when she perked up at the suggestion.

"That was a joke, Pontmercy."

"You don't joke," Delilah said flatly, a warmness was spreading through her chest, shooting up into her head and down into her stomach. "Would it make you feel better if I said I was a part of this little society or what not?" His eyes seemed to latch onto her blue ones, making the rest of the room spin, but Tom alone remaining in focus.

Shaking her head, Delilah took another drink as she pondered over his question. "No, no it wouldn't make me feel better." Grabbing her wand, she made a couple of ice cubes fall into her glass before pouring some more whiskey. She wasn't thinking straight, the heat of the fire and the boy next to her were making everything feel fuzzy.

"In fact," she waved the bottle at him lazily, the liquid sloshing inside with her movement. "I'd probably kill you in a very creative way if it turns out you were involved."

"Oh, you would?" He lounged back on the couch, draping one arm over the back, his eyes trailed along her pale legs.

Delilah didn't seem to notice as she continued to ramble, "yes I would. Though I wouldn't be happy about it, I like you, though only sometimes. Killing people takes a certain preparation," her words weren't slurred, but her accent was bending a bit.

Tom bit at his cheek and tilted his head, "what would you know about killing someone?" Flashbacks of the night he killed his father rang in his mind, but he shook his head and trained his focus on the blonde in front of him. Delilah shrugged halfheartedly, her own mind going back to the faceless Death Eaters she's killed in order to save her own skin.

"I know you have to mean it."

He leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee while his free hand ran through his hair. Delilah shrunk into the chair at the look he was giving her, he was holding nothing back from his gaze like he always did.

He seemed shocked.

And he was. Tom was suddenly seeing her in an entirely new light. "Delilah have you used the killing curse?" He watched as she rubbed at her nose before downing her drink, he should probably take the bottle away from her soon.

"Yeah," she said it so simply and he raised a brow. Rolling her eyes, she snatched the bottle from him and began to pour another glass, an idiotic move on her part. "Why?" He pressed, to hell with tiptoeing around the question.

"We're in a war, it was either my life or theirs." Delilah may be nearing the edge of drunkenness but she wasn't completely out of her wits. She kept her response vague enough, though it was a bit depressing for her to think about how time was repeating itself.

She left one war just to be greeted by another.

"Were Grindelwald's men after you?" Tom said after a moment, finishing his whiskey and setting the glass down in order to control his temptation to pour another one.

"Not me specifically, but I was in their way."

He didn't believe her but didn't want to press, seeing as he successfully diverted the conversation away from the Knights of Walpurgis. He'd have to speak to the boys about being more careful.

Delilah suddenly shot up and ran over to the record player that was partly hidden behind a bookshelf. "Where are your records?" She asked excitedly and he watched from his spot on the couch as she looked around the room in a half frenzy. It wasn't his record player, it was Casey's; the head girl. And she had a dreadful taste in music. So one day all her vinyls 'disappeared', she was rather heartbroken.

"There aren't any, it's merely for decoration."

A pout met her lips and Delilah glared at the record player, "well that blows. Though I wouldn't expect you to have anything by Queen." She smiled when she saw his brows furrow, "who?"

"Only one of the best bands in the entirety of human existence, though their muggle, so you wouldn't give them the time of day." And they didn't exist yet, so there was that. Her alcohol infused brain suddenly came up with an idea. And if she were sober, Delilah would surely smack herself.

"How about I sing you a song!"

A near wince left Tom as he grabbed his glass, fuck ignoring his temptation. "Don't, you sound like a dying cat." She waved off his plea and began to do a version of an air guitar, dancing her way back towards the fireplace.

"Time don't mean a thing when you're by my side, please stay awhile," Delilah was singing with her best impression of Freddie, completely oblivious to the glare Tom was sending her way. "Please do shut up, the head girl is sleeping." He gestured to Casey's door, but Delilah had her eyes closed as she spun in a circle. "You know I never could foresee the future years."

Tom considered making her shut up with a jinx, but the sight of her prancing around like an idiot was admittedly amusing. Merlin knows that if she remembered this tomorrow, she'd be humiliated. That thought alone put a smirk on his face.

Whirling around to face Tom, she blew her hair out of her face and grabbed her glass. "But will we be together forever? What will be my love, can't you see that I just don't know." She stumbled a bit as she spun, but merely laughed as she slumped against the back of the chair, her eyes shining due to being under the influence.

"I can hear the music in the darkness-"

"Merlin you sound dreadful," Tom cut her off and she raised her arms in an over exaggerated shrug. "Personally I think the frog choir would be lucky to have me."

Thankfully however, she slid over the armrest of the couch, her legs dangling off the side. Tom did his best to ignore how her head was laying mere inches from his lap.

Seeing as she's calmed down a bit, though was clearly drunk, Tom saw an opportunity and snatched it by its neck. "What are you going to do when you get back home?"

Resting her glass on her stomach, Delilah stared up at the high ceiling, her eyes trailing along the wooden beams. "I'm gonna tackle my brother in the biggest hug," she then tilted her head back slightly to look up at Tom. "The last time we spoke we had an argument, it was rather dumb but I miss his stupid face."

Tapping his knee with a finger for a moment, he considered asking her any of the numerous questions he had bottled up. With her being loaded on alcohol, could he get some truth out of her for once? Shifting his dark eyes onto her, she didn't shy away.

It was an odd perspective, her laying down and looking up at him.

"Are you sure you don't know any of Malfoy's relatives?" Tom kept thinking about that platinum blonde haired boy he saw in her memory, he looked so much like Abraxas and she even called him Malfoy.

"Yeah, course I do. Draco, an utter ass but he's alright." An alarm went off in her head, telling her she needs to shut the hell up, but it was faint and drowned out by the sound of her heartbeat.

Furrowing his brows, Tom went over all of Malfoy's relatives in his head, but he couldn't recall anyone by the name of Draco. "Who?" She waved him off dismissively, "oh you wouldn't know him, he hasn't been born yet."

Was she pulling his leg? He bit his cheek for a moment, "... what?"

There was a brief pause before Delilah's face contorted into one of amusement, a burst of laughter left her lips. "Look at your face! Never mind, you wouldn't understand."

"Delilah-"

"I like it when you call me that," utter nonsense was spewing out of her mouth without her consent. Alcohol was never her friend, which is usually why she steered away from it. Tom placed his elbow on back of the couch and rested his chin in his palm, looking down at her.

"You like it when I call you by your name?"

She nodded and fumbled with her nightie, "what were you gonna ask?" Delilah could feel her cheeks burning up, she felt like an idiotic schoolgirl.

Peppermint and petrichor swirled around him, mixing with the smell of whisky, making him feel like he was in an odd state of limbo. "Why won't you be able to come back when you go home?"

A long breath passed her lips and she sat up, tucking her legs beneath her. Tom and Delilah were practically pressed next to each other. He felt a weight drop around them, her royal blue eyes growing more dark like a night sky.

"Can I have a cigarette?" Her question slightly took him off guard, but nonetheless he dug into his pocket for a moment before drawing out the silver cigarette box. Delilah smiled slightly at the sight of it, seeing as she gave it to him. She half expected for Tom to just throw it in a cupboard somewhere.

Handing it to her, she placed it between her lips but didn't light it.

"I need to get back."

"Why?"

"They all think I'm dead."

There was a brief pause as Tom trailed his fingers lightly over the engravings on the box, his brain quickly registering what she said. "Why? And why would that mean you never came back?"

Delilah rolled her eyes, "imagine if you thought I was dead?" She then lightly punched him on the shoulder with a broad smile on her lips. "Admit it, your life would be sufferably boring without me."

That may be, but his life would get a hell of a lot easier. Though, did he want an easier life? One without Delilah in it did seem incredibly dull. Tom thought back to her initial question, what would he do if Delilah was killed?

At that thought he furrowed his brow and she waved her empty glass at him, but he shook his head, "that's probably not best." Huffing, she grabbed the bottle herself, pouring a bit too much.

She took a long sip before resting her head on his shoulder. Tom stiffened but didn't move. His body became a block of ice, yet he felt on fire all at once.

Handing him back his cigarette, he placed it between his own lips and snapped his fingers, heating her face up for a moment. Turning her head slightly so she could rest her cheek on his shoulder, Delilah watched as smoke poured out of his mouth.

"You're a very curious person." She mumbled, her warm breath fanned his neck.

"You're like a coin," she giggled and he turned his head to look at her, the smoke heating up her face. "Meaning?"

"You're two faced." She then gasped and hit his chest. "You're like Harvey Dent! Oh it's perfect. You're just like him! One side of you is pretty okay, that side of you doesn't bother me that much. But the other half of you is all over the place. Mental. And wants me dead."

"I don't want you dead."

The words left his mouth before he could register them. Damn fire whiskey, usually he was able to handle his liquor better. So why was this time different? He didn't feel intoxicated, just slightly tipsy.

Delilah snorted and took another drink. "Yeah, okay."

He grabbed the glass from her and set it down, "that's enough." She went to reach for it again but he grabbed her arm, tugging her up none too gently. "Off to bed you go."

"I'm not a child." She huffed, shaking out of his grasp but ended up stumbling when she tried to walk.

"You're acting like one."

She glared at him but continued to sway in place, the room was tilting at odd angles.

He looked at the clock, it was fairly late and two drunk students wouldn't be too grand if caught, especially since he's head boy.

Tom looked over at Casey's door, she was probably asleep, he then looked towards his room. He knew it would be the proper thing to do to offer Delilah the bed. But if he did that, he wouldn't be able to sleep in it till he stripped the sheets. He didn't need a repeat of the Leaky Cauldron. His bed ended up smelling so strongly of Delilah he couldn't get any rest.

"You can sleep on the couch."

"Oh what a gentlemen," she slurred but made her way back to the couch, throwing her body on it. He didn't miss the way she eyed the fire whiskey, so before he left the room he strode over and snatched the bottle away.

"I'll fetch you a blanket and pillow, behave." He set her with his usual 'head boy bravado' and Delilah waved a hand at him in annoyance.

"Yeah okay, dad."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he made a quick trip to his room and grabbed the spare blanket on his bed and a pillow from the cabinet.

Walking back into the common room, Delilah already looked passed out and he huffed slightly. Nearing Delilah, he knelt down and cupped the back of her head, lifting it up to slide the pillow underneath, her mess of curls felt soft on his palm.

He laid the blanket over Delilah halfheartedly, so it failed to cover her sufficiently. He was still crouched down as he watched her sleep for a moment, taking in the way her features fell naturally. She looked at peace for once.

"Tom?" She mumbled, her eyes still closed.

"Hm?"

"Xan and Katerina, d-did you do that do them?"

"Do you think I did?"

There was a beat of silence, he nearly thought she passed out, but she shrugged slightly.

"I hope not, because I won't know what to do if you did."

Then with a yawn she fell asleep.

His mind went back to their conversation. Each new fact he learned about her was like a small piece in an extremely complicated jigsaw puzzle that made up Delilah Pontmercy.

"Draco Malfoy?" He muttered, biting at his cheek. He'd have to ask Abraxas about this Draco boy, seeing as he's never mentioned him before.

And why did her family think she's dead? Tom was annoyed at himself for not getting that out of her.

He then thought about her leaving, leaving him, for good. He clenched his hands until his nails made bloody crescents appear in his palms.

She couldn't leave. He still hasn't figured her out yet. He needed more time.

______________________________________________

There was a vastness of what seemed like eternity in front of her, just over the edge of the cliff. The dirt had a rough softness against her feet. The air felt damp and thunder rumbled somewhere in the heavens.

Turning, Delilah saw Hogwarts in the distance, standing tall and daunting, but something was wrong.

"Lilah."

Tom was standing next to her, his eyes trained on the cliffs edge. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" He then looked at her, his face smooth but...

Were his eyes red?

"Look," he took hold of Delilah's chin and made her face the cliff. A shiver ran down her spine when his finger trailed along her jaw as he moved to stand directly behind her. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck, "look."

Her royal blue eyes took in the heavy smog laying beyond the edge. How far or how deep it was, was unknown. The fog seemed to be alive, it looked as if it was breathing, calling to her.

"Go to it." Tom's hand trailed from her jaw to rest on her lower back, guiding her forward. Delilah felt her pulse spike when her feet hit the edge, dirt falling down into the abyss. But she didn't feel nervous, or scared.

Reaching out a hand, the fog swirled around her fingers and she smiled. "What is it?" looking at him then, his expression was odd. He almost seemed blurred, but his crimson eyes remained resolutely clear.

They almost looked familiar.

"An illusion," He said simply, turning away from her before she could look closer. Bending down, he picked up a stone and threw it. "It's not real."

Furrowing her brows, she looked back at the fog. How could it not be real?

"But it's of your creation, Lilah. And it's stunning." He took hold of her hand then, running a thumb over her knuckles.

"I created this?" His hand felt natural in her hold, like they were made from the same mold.

"Don't you hear it?"

Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and nodded. It sounded like her heartbeat, "I hear it."

"So go to it," Tom's voice sounded much closer, but she was suddenly afraid to open her eyes.

Brushing a stray piece of golden hair from her face, he walked back behind her and rested his lips against the curve of her neck.

"Jump."

"What-"

There was a sudden shove to her back, sending Delilah over the edge of the cliff and into the fog.

A scream never left her lips, there was no need. She suddenly became enveloped in a sense of familiarity and security. And she wasn't falling, but she wasn't flying either.

The dense fog seemed to be supporting her, slowly turning her in the air as if there was no gravity. Delilah simply floated there.

She turned her head back towards the cliff, but it was gone. Her sense of direction was gone, bleak gray dominated her environment.

Feeling her pulse spike again, she looked up and the sky suddenly erupted. There was a resounding boom and the fog shattered as if it was glass, falling around her and cutting into her skin.

Just as a scream left her lips, Delilah turned her body away from the sky.

She merely blinked before she registered how her feet felt wet. Looking around, she was down by the Great Lake. Her shoes held in one hand as she splashed her feet in the water.

A laugh left her lips at the feeling of the warm summer water. Turning, she found Tom lounging on a rock, his own feet dipped in the lake.

He held a smile and waved at her, his eyes shining crimson against the reflection of the water. "Be careful," he called, gesturing to the slippery rocks along the shore.

"Relax, I'm always careful."

And then she tripped, the world spinning as black suddenly enveloped her.

The last thing she heard was Tom shouting her name, the sound of his voice muffled by the water. It felt warm on her skin, and she felt that sense of calmness wash over her again.

She wanted this to happen, she wanted to fall this time.

But all too soon, the water became like a thousand needles poking into every nerve, turning her body into a block of ice. Delilah went rigid, to the point where she couldn't move.

The weight of this new change caused her to sink further into the depths of the lake, the sunlight dimming with each second.

The moment Delilah hit the floor of the lake she came to, a dull ache shot up her spine before a pounding began in her head. With a slight groan, she pulled the blanket towards her and rolled over, only to end up letting out a yelp as she felt her body fall from the couch.

Delilah shot up, making her vision swim and her headache worsen. Rubbing at her temples, she looked around the room in a brief moment of confusion before she realized where she was.

She couldn't remember much, but somewhere in her brain she recalled dancing and singing like a complete idiot. Wincing in her own embarrassment, she prayed Tom got shit faced enough to forget that.

It was relatively dark outside, so it must've been early morning. Looking to Tom's door, it was shut and she could only assume he was still asleep.

Thank Merlin.

Burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes danced around her, almost like fresh spring air. She looked down at the blanket tangled around her body, his pillow also smelled painfully like him.

But that pain seemed to dull the one in her head.

With a sigh, Delilah carefully got up, her balance only swaying slightly. As she folded the blanket, her eyes kept shooting towards Tom's door, making sure it stayed shut.

What the hell was that dream?

Grabbing her wand off the floor, Delilah's socked feet carried her across the room silently as she left the common room. She made her way back to the dungeons, but as she rubbed at her head, a trip to the infirmary sounded like the smart move.

Was Madame Fontaine even up? Delilah tried to focus on the large clock at the end of the hallway, but the numbers kept swirling around into incomprehensible squiggles.

Nonetheless she needed some sort of potion to help with her hangover. Lifting a hand, she absentmindedly touched her neck, she could almost feel where Tom's lips had laid in her dream.

She then grimaced, "stupid self conscious."

When she got to the hospital wing, Delilah knocked twice before she heard a muffled voice. A few seconds later the door swung open, revealing Madame Fontaine in her night robes.

"Merlin, what've you done this time?" The woman's eyes ran over her quickly and she waved a hand. "Nothing, I've just got a bloody hangover."

Madame Fontaine huffed but seemed clearly relieved Delilah wasn't on the brink of death for once. "Drinking on school grounds, hm?" She shook her head in disapproval, motioning for Delilah to follow her.

She dug in her cabinet for a moment before grabbing a potion bottle, the lighting was too dim and she couldn't see the label properly. Nonetheless, when the healer gave it to her, Delilah downed it before giving out a spluttering cough.

"That shit's disgusting."

Her profanity earned a glare and she smiled slightly. "Sorry, and thank you." Wiping at her mouth, she began to walk towards the door but Madam Fontaine told her to wait a moment.

Rubbing at her eyes, they felt dry but she couldn't get the image of crimson pools out of her head.

Where had she seen those eyes before? That was going to annoy her to death if she didn't figure that out. They weren't Tom's eyes, yet they looked strangely normal on him. Maybe it was just her drunken mind fucking with her.

That dream in total was just weird.

Madame Fontaine came back out of her office and threw a black robe at Delilah. "Put that on, you can't be walking around the castle in that small thing."

Frowning, Delilah looked down at her nightie. It wasn't too revealing, though she partly forgot the forties were a bit more reserved. A blush filled her cheeks then, she spent the entire night in front of Tom in this 'small thing'.

______________________________________________

Deciding to grab an early breakfast, she headed down to the Great Hall. It was relatively empty, considering it was Saturday morning. Coffee is what she wanted, her appetite hasn't really came back ever since Christmas holiday.

As she walked through the two large oaken doors, her eyes landed instantly on the auburn haired man sitting at the staff table. Her coffee could wait, Delilah made a beeline for Dumbledore and he smiled at her over his goblet.

"Good morning, Miss Pontmercy."

"Morning Professor," she messed with a golden strand of her hair as she looked around. The only other teacher at the table was the Care for Magical Creatures Professor, and he seemed half asleep in his porridge.

"Can I talk to you? Privately if that's alright, or we can wait till later."

He looked at her over his spectacles, a knowing tilt to his lips. "I fear if we postpone a meeting till later you might burst and do something reckless." Taking one last sip from his goblet, he stood up from his chair and Delilah grinned.

"Me? Reckless? Never."

As they walked down the main aisle, he waved a hand to one of the tables, "might as well grab that coffee you wanted." She raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't question how he knew what she initially came there for.

Blowing the steam away from the rim of her mug, Delilah followed Dumbledore to his classroom. She'd offered to help him grade papers, seeing as she had nothing else to do since it was the weekend. Studying for exams wasn't really needed either. One; she knew the material. Two; it didn't matter if she bombed the test, she wasn't staying in this time long enough for her scores to matter.

Dumbledore conjured a comfortable chair for her to sit in front of his desk, a large stack of essays greeting them.

Once he separated them by years, giving Delilah the third years' essays, he popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "What is it you wanted to talk about?" He grabbed a quill and his eyes scanned the first essay, marking what he saw necessary along the way.

Setting her mug down in exchange for grabbing her own quill, she began to scan the essay in front of her. "When will this 'plan' of yours be set in motion? I've been invited to go to France with the boys this summer, but I need to know if I'll even be around."

When she got no response, Delilah looked up from her essay with an eyebrow raised, her hand reaching for her mug for a much needed drink. The smile he was giving her was odd, she didn't like it.

"How splendid! This really is convenient I must say," he chuckled lightly and grabbed the next roll of parchment. "What's convenient?" She asked, lifting the mug to her lips, the heat from the liquid warming her cheeks.

"Take the boys with you."

And she choked on her coffee, getting it slightly splattered over a poor thirteen year olds half assed transfigurations essay. "I beg your pardon?" Hitting her chest as she cleared her throat, Delilah stared at him as if he had two heads.

"I assume you'll be staying in London for a few days, go then. And bring either Mr. Malfoy, Rosier, or Leststrange. Their parents are Ministry officials, you can get in."

Had he suddenly gone fucking mental?

Dumbledore must've read her expression easily, folding his hands on the table and his pleased smile dropped slightly. "I feel you're seeing this whole mission as much more complicated than it actually appears to be."

Now she was annoyed, her cheek twitching slightly and she raised a hand to mess with her necklace. "Sir, this is the Ministry we're talking about. If I get caught... and if my friends end up getting punished because of this? Are you really expecting me to drag them into this, when they have no idea why we're even breaking in, in the first place?"

There was a long pause, and a sigh left his crooked nose. She froze then, she knew that look, painfully well.

Shaking her head, Delilah picked up her quill again and began marking the essay. "No. I've lied to them about many things, but not this. They don't deserve that."

"Miss Meddows."

The use of her actual name made her tense up, her grip tightening on her quill. Glancing up, she was greeted by his twinkling eyes.

"I understand the emotionally difficultly of lying to loved ones, trust me, I do." Rubbing at his eyes, Delilah suddenly saw his age fall heavy on his shoulders. "But this very well may be the safest, and best guarantee of getting you home."

"And," he waved a rolled up essay at her, "when's the last time you've heard of a Malfoy being punished for illegal activities?"

Delilah bit at her cheek, he did have a point, which irked her. Money did tend to cover up whatever dirty business a Malfoy was into.

Abraxas could get her into the Ministry easily, she had no doubt about that. But the Department of Mysteries? That was a whole other level of law breaking.

_____________________________________________

Cain twirled his engagement ring around his finger as they walked, absentmindedly humming along with the tune Pyrrhus was whistling. Elio was drumming on his legs lightly, counting the paintings as they went down the hall.

All three of them completely oblivious to the boy trailing behind them, looking as if he was about to throttle someone over the head.

"Will you three shut up?" Abraxas suddenly snapped, causing the boys to whirl around confused. "What's wrong with you, mate?" Elio asked with an eyebrow raised, just now taking in his friends disheveled appearance.

Circles resided under his eyes, the purple looking stark against his pale skin. His usually styled hair was also a mess and his uniform was askew.

"She fucking knows, that's was wrong." Abraxas rubbed at his head, messing his hair up even more. The boys all shared a confused glance, "who knows what?" Cain said slowly, not being able to piece any information together in his head.

"Delilah, she knows about... you know," He gestured to his back. Elio simply furrowed his brows in confusion, but frowned when he noticed Pyrrhus and Cain had paled, looking as if they've been petrified.

A chill suddenly shot through his body, an ache he was all too familiar with and he rubbed at his eyes so hard until spots appeared. "What happened?" He asked with a sigh, looking at his best friends expectantly.

When none of them would meet his gaze, their eyes focused on the stone floor, Elio suddenly felt sick.

"What the fuck did you do?"

It was obviously bad, and the fact that Delilah had found out about it? "Hello?" He waved his hands impatiently in front of their faces, even taking to slapping Abraxas on the cheek.

A thought suddenly sprang into his mind, making him want to punch someone. If whatever they did was this bad, and Delilah had found out, did she think he was involved?

The need to know what they were talking about grew exponentially, but just as he opened his mouth, someone came towards them.

Of course, Elio thought.

Tom scanned them over quickly, nearly rolling his eyes when he realized an argument was about to unfold. He didn't have time for such petty things.

"Meeting. Now."

Elio tensed his jaw as he watched Tom turn on his heel, he found the back of his head extremely appealing as a punchbag at the moment.

Pyrrhus let out a dry cough to break the silence, digging his hand in his blazers pocket and pulling out a flask. After taking a swig, he handed it to Abraxas before following after Tom.

The platinum blonde haired boy also took a drink before passing it to Cain, who drank a generous amount. He went to hand it to Elio but froze midway with the way he was glaring at him.

"Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Letting out a sigh, Cain patted Elio on the back before gesturing for them to start following the others. "Later, I promise."

Snatching the flask from him, Elio downed the rest and welcomed the burn from whatever foreign alcohol Pyrrhus had put in it.

They were the last to walk into the head boy and girl's common room, Tom already sitting in his make shift throne of an armchair. The longer Elio looked at him, the more he realized something was off.

Tom looked distracted for once.

His eyes kept trailing between the record player and the couch, back and forth, not really focusing on anything else. Elio was about to ask him what the boys were so freaked out over, but Pyrrhus quickly cut him off before a word could be uttered.

"We found out something at the Yule Ball."

Pale green eyes glared at him, but Pyrrhus ignored him pointedly, staring at the ashes in the fireplace.

There was a beat of silence before Tom gestured for him to continue. "There was a man, maybe only a few years older than us, he said there was something in the Ministry that might help us track Grindelwald's movements, as it's happening in real time."

Biting at his cheek, Tom tilted his head slightly as he looked at Pyrrhus through narrowed eyes. "And you're deciding to tell me this now?" It was nearing the last days of January, and he was annoyed they've been idiotic enough to put off telling him what might be useful information.

He simply sighed through his nose, tapping a finger on the armrest as he watched Pyrrhus' jugular move with a gulp. "What's this object called, then?"

"We don't know."

"What does it look like?"

Pyrrhus and Elio shared a glance, "we don't know that either," Elio muttered.

"Lovely, did he at least specify where at in the Ministry?" Tom said dryly, feeling his temper spike.

A nervous laugh passed the boys lips and he scratched at his head, sharing yet another glance with Elio. "The um, Department of Mysteries."

Fantastic, Tom mused. He loved a challenge.

"Well, gentlemen, looks like we're making a detour to the Ministry this summer."

"But how will we get in?" Abraxas asked, he was leaned against the mantle, hands in his pockets, his expression strained.

Tom bit at his cheek, physically getting into the Ministry would be child's play. But he's heard the level of security at the Department of Mysteries was heavy, and Ministry officials had to have a high level of clearance to even have access.

Clearance he knew for a fact Malfoy, Rosier, nor Lestrange's parents had.

"Who was this man?"

"We don't know."

"Do we know if he's reliable?"

"...no."

Merlin's sake, he was about to tear one of their fucking heads off.

____________________________________________

Delilah sat up in bed late that night, her mind reeling at how she could ask the boys to take her to Ministry without them asking too many questions. She also needed to find a safe way, a way for her to break away from them at some point so they wouldn't be tangled in her mess if the plan went south.

How would she even get into the department of mysteries?

She's done it before.

But that was in a completely different scenario, half of the workers were corrupt and too focused on keeping an eye out on Harry.

"What would Riddle do?" Delilah muttered as she laid her head on her pillow. He was conniving enough, surely he'd have some clever scheme with numerous back up plans.

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The next day, Delilah's attempt at building up the courage to ask Tom was shattered by the devil himself.

They were in the library, and just so happened to stumble upon one another whilst browsing titles. Delilah was glancing at the book spines, but not actually reading any.

Currently her eyes were narrowed into a glare as Tom whistled the song 'You and I', a means to mock her for her embarrassing drunken actions.

Deciding she's had enough of his taunting, Delilah flipped him off and waved it around, making his lips nearly tilt in amusement. "Now that you've had your fun," She ground out, ignoring the way he looked as he leaned against the bookshelf with his hands in his pockets.

"I'm actually able to go with you this summer."

Tom raised a brow, what about that whole 'family business' spew she was going on about? And how they thought she was dead. He couldn't very well ask her, he wasn't even sure if she remembered telling him that.

A thought suddenly occurred to him, Delilah could be incredibly useful for the little stunt the boys and him were planning to pull at the Ministry. She was always up to do something reckless. He then hummed, and she didn't miss the pleased expression that flickered across his face.

"This is actually quite convenient."

Delilah tilted her head back to look up at him, "Yeah... it's convenient for me too." They looked at each other for a moment, not daring to give anything away.

"Why is it convenient for you?" She asked. There's a long pause, both of them held blank faces.

He might as well just come out with it, he'd have to tell her at some point. He couldn't just drag her along to the Ministry and expect her to cooperate, Merlin knows she'd throw a fit or something.

Little did Tom know, nearly the exact same thing was running through Delilah's head at the moment.

Then at the same time they spoke, "I need to break into the Ministry."

Delilah's eyes widened as Tom narrowed his, confused with the sudden turn of events.

"Why do you need to break into the Ministry?" Delilah asked, aghast with the luck that just so happened to fall in front of her. If he was already planning on breaking in, lord knows why, this might go a lot smoother than she expected.

"Why do you need to break into the Ministry?" Tom shot back, trying to piece together why on earth she would need to break in. What could be more important to her than returning to her family?

She clenched her jaw, "so you're not gonna tell me?"

"Are you going to tell me why you want to break into a government building?"

She bit at her thumb and huffed. "Touché. When will we be leaving?"

"Right after graduation would be best," he began, taking an absentminded step closer to her. "But we'll be going to France first for a little while to get a decent plan drawn together."

"What? You don't already have something planned out?"

Tom narrowed his eyes slightly at her and pushed away from the shelf, bending his head down slightly to look her in the eye. "Oh I'm sorry my darling, do you have something already prepared to get us in?" He didn't hold back the smirk as he watched her lips press into a thin line.

Little did Tom know he was helping her find a way to get home, when that's the exact opposite of what he wanted.

"Breaking into the Ministry? How exciting." They whirled around only to find Aleksander smiling at them, his grin mischievous.

Tom raised his wand to obliviate him, really it was idiotic on his part for discussing this in the library of all places. Aleksander raised his hands quickly, a pointless shield against a spell, "wait! I can help."

Tom was about to wipe his memory anyway, but Delilah grabbed his hand and lowered his wand, "How?"

"My brother, he works at the Ministry."

Tom and Delilah shared a glance, "where does he work?"

"Department of Mysteries I think, why?"

There's a pause, Delilah scratching at the back of her neck as she restrained a relieved smile. This was falling together way easier than she could've ever hoped for.

Maybe just this once, luck was on her side.

Aleksander's eyes suddenly widened as he looked between the two, "Is that where you need to get in?"

Delilah bit at her cheek but stopped herself, realizing that it's something Tom does. "That's none of your concern."

"Well what do you need to get?"

"You ask a lot of questions." Tom said flatly, he never liked Aleksander, and he probably never would, even if he did prove himself useful for once.

Aleksander looked at Tom incredulously, "do you want my help or not? I'm providing you a way in, but I kind of need a good reason to convince my brother to let a group of teenagers break into the British Ministry of Magic."

"He has a good point," she muttered to Tom and he waved his hand at her passively.

He looked Aleksander over, and at the mere thought of having to spend an entire summer with him made Tom's skin itch slightly. But nonetheless, if he could get them in, he'd have to deal with it.

Besides, he could just obliviate him afterwards.

"Why help us?" He asked, Tom didn't trust Aleksander farther than he could throw him. The boy shrugged, sending a not so discreet wink to Delilah.

"A group of teens fresh out of school planing to do a very illegal heist from the Ministry? Sounds like fun." Tom didn't miss the new flush to Delilah's cheeks.

He really didn't like Aleksander. "Fun?" Tom said slowly, his eyes narrowed.

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged and began to walk away, "fine, if you don't want my help-"

"Wait," Delilah quickly said, throwing a slight glare at Tom. What was up with him? He'd gone rigid, she could see the tension in his neck.

"We'd be incredibly thankful if you helped us, wouldn't we?" She nudged Tom on the shoulder and he dragged his eyes to hers, his face a deadpan bemused expression. "Wouldn't we?" Delilah said through closed teeth, raising both brows at him.

Not really, Tom thought.

He then smiled at her, that charming smile he usually threw at people to get what he wanted, and it completely knocked the wind out of her lungs. He turned his coffee colored eyes on the boy in front of them, who too, looked a bit taken aback by Tom's sudden shift.

"Yes, we'd be irrevocably thankful, Eques."

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Would you look at that? I actually updated within a reasonable span of time?? SHOCKING I know. Hope you enjoyed!!

Also that dream sequence was partly inspired by the song Trampoline by SHAED, I was listening to it on repeat while writing this and got inspired.

Please VOTE & COMMENT if you liked the chapter!!