Delilah woke up twenty minutes later and her head felt heavier than lead. She groaned as her head rolled to the side, soft velvet was underneath her and she let her body weight fall into it, only for a moment, before she shot up again. Her wand was drawn and her eyes darted frantically around the room, they were on high alert, ready for any threat. Then her blue eyes landed on Dumbledore and her hand trembled.

  So it wasn't just some fucked up dream?

  The need, no the want to cry was so strong but nothing happened. Because deep in her subconscious she knew how much she despised crying. Most considered crying a friend, a way to vent, but she'd always felt gross and dull afterwards. She took a deep breath as he made his way over slowly. He held a cup that had steam billowing out from the rim and the smell of tea danced its way towards her.

  "Thank you." Her voice was quiet as she took the cup from him and he smiled in reassurance. After two sips, she settled into the couch he'd conjured and attempted to let her muscles relax. "When," she paused. "When am I?" He leaned back in his chair and observed her quietly. The silence was deafening and Delilah shifted in her seat, her eyes darting anywhere but his own. 

  Every time Dumbledore looked at someone, it felt as if he had peeled back every layer they've worked so hard to put up. He could see through anyone and it was disconcerting.

  Her eyes shifted to something in the back corner of his office and her breath hitched. Dumbledore followed her gaze and a warm smile breached his lips. "So I take it you know of Fawkes?" The Phoenix perked it's head up at the sound of his name and tilted his head as he observed Delilah. Her eyes felt heavy as she remembered Dumbledore's funeral, how the cry of the Phoenix rang like a melody from the heavens until it ceased to ever be heard again. A weight dropped in her heart as she looked at that beautiful bird. That bird who helped save Harry his second year from the basilisk, the bird who helped Dumbledore escape from the corrupted clutches of the Ministry. That bird was the symbol for the Order of the Phoenix.

  That bird was hope.

  "You could say that." Delilah said calmly, despite the raging surge of everything happening inside her. She took notice on how he hadn't answered her yet. Perhaps he was prolonging, in worry she'd lash out. "I won't faint on you again, I promise." Humor was her best defense and she hoped to god it was working. Lord knows it was the only thing to help her in this current predicament. "Today is the third of September, 1943." He said slowly, knowing she probably wouldn't believe what she was hearing.

  Her muscles tensed and her grip was so severe on the cup she thought it'd break in her hand. "1943?" Her voice was quiet and she blinked at Dumbledore, pure confusion etched itself onto her face. "How-" She began but Dumbledore shook his head. "I know nothing of how you got here, please enlighten me? Recall whatever you can." He leaned back in his chair and pulled lightly at the tufts of hair on his short beard.

  "Well I-" she set down the cup on the table next to her. Delilah's hands were trembling and she was in no mood to drop scolding tea on herself. "I was at the Ministry, and then- well I- I was-" she stopped and looked at Dumbledore. He mused silently to himself as he saw conflict raging behind her eyes.

  This was Dumbledore. The man who helped Harry through so much, no matter how complicated and infuriating that process was, he was still kind and generous. He was just about the only man Delilah knew who could help. She cleared her throat, "Well, I was killed. And then I woke up on the edge of the Great Lake, and now I'm here." Dumbledore felt his lips tug downwards slightly. She'd been killed?

  "What year was this?" He asked softly, not wanting to break what trust she seemed to already have deeply embedded to him. It appeared she already knew who he was. "1998, towards the end of it." Dumbledore tapped his chin and seemed to sink further into his chair. "So, you've somehow jumped back fifty five years..." he hummed to himself and Delilah felt the urge to yell at him, which she scolded herself mentally for. She wanted him to have the answers, he always seemed to have them, but that was unfair of her to expect. "How old are you?" Dumbledore wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer, she looked so young yet she'd suffered a terrible fate.

  "Seventeen." Delilah eyed him curiously, not entirely sure how his question was relevant. "And you're positive you had no time-turner on your person?" Delilah shook her head and her vision swam. She was having trouble comprehending on how any of this was real. She shouldn't be there. This was wrong, she should be dead and cold and gone.

  One would question why she's not jumping off the walls in enthusiasm. She'd been given a second shot at life, had she not? This wasn't her life. None of her friends or family were there with her. This wasn't her Hogwarts, this wasn't even her Dumbledore.

  Dumbledore's mind rang with theories but none of them were concrete, he needed time. He stood up abruptly and Delilah blinked up at him. "Well, if I'm to figure this out, I need time to dwell and get you on your merry way back. We've only one option for now." She slowly stood up and eyed him warily before looking at Fawkes, which seemed to calm her exponentially. "And that is?" He beamed at her and Delilah shifted on her feet. "We need you enrolled at Hogwarts. That way you don't stray too far off, your environment is limited so disturbance to the space time continuum isn't likely, and we can have frequent meetings to discuss this issue. I also strongly stress that you tell no one of your situation, not any knowledge of the future. Including me."

  Delilah's jaw went slack. "Enroll? Here? But..." Hogwarts hadn't really been a school for well over two years. Not since the Ministry took over, followed by the Death Eaters. Despite not getting much out of her classes, Harry had taught her extensive knowledge on Defense Against the Dark Arts during DA meetings. Plus with the constant attacks over the summers and, she shuddered, the battle, her dueling skills were of the highest grade. She'd gotten quite handy at some nasty hexes.

  "Oh yes, yes of course!" Dumbledore exclaimed, hitting himself lightly on the forehead. "I couldn't just walk into Dippets office and say we have a new student. We need to form a new identity for you." His tone was light but Delilah gaped at him. "We'll need to get you sorted of course." He blustered as he made his way to a floor to ceiling bookshelf and began to flick through some ancient looking novels. "First things first, a background." Delilah stood rooted to the spot.

  This was insane.

  Bloody insane.

  "We could say you're German? Though with the current heat of things that's probably not best." He muttered and flicked through a few pages. "Or American? How's your American accent?" He asked and Delilah stumbled as she tried to reply but he shook his head. "No, dreadful. Never mind."

  "I speak French." She muttered and he snapped the book shut, resulting in her flinching. "Excellent! We can say you went to Beauxbatons, your parents sent you here due to the war effort. Oh, let's see...Pontmercy! Yes that will do." Dumbledore started for the door and threw it open. Delilah blinked a few times before stumbling after him.

 "Where are we going?" Some students were in the hall and they eyed her curiously, Delilah eyed them back with just as much wonder. The Hogwarts uniforms of the forties were much more refined than the ones in the nineties. Although, they did allow them to wear whatever they wanted from time to time. She remembered when she showed up to one of her exams in sweatpants and some people just lost it. Notability purebloods, seeing as they've probably never even seen such clothing.

  "To see Dippet, get you enrolled, and sorted." He smiled at few students as they walked past and Delilah did her best to avoid looking at anyone. They reached the Headmasters office and Dumbledore muttered "Ministry", which was slightly off putting. She was used to the passwords being some obscure muggle candy he was obsessed with. After ascending the staircase, Dumbledore knocked once and nerves pooled in the pit of Delilah's stomach. What if Dippet didn't believe her? What if he wouldn't allow her in?

  "Come in!" Said a boisterous voice and Dumbledore shot a smile at Delilah before opening the doors. "Ah, Albus! Hello- oh hello!" Dippets gaze fell on Delilah and he wobbled himself around his desk. Delilah blinked at the old and large man in front of her. She's only ever seen his portrait and even then he was always sleeping. She repressed a laugh as he smiled at her, he resembled a walrus. "Hello," she greeted timidly and shook Dippets hand. "I've come to get her enrolled." Dumbledore told him and the man's eyebrows furrowed. "Enrolled?"

  Dumbledore explained her 'situation' with ease and Delilah marveled at how good of a liar he was. She didn't know whether to appraise him or be put off. "Oh, poor child!" Dippet called and ushered her to quickly sit down. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and caught Dumbledore looking at her amused. "Why yes of course! I'll just have to get the paperwork sorted but-oh yes of course!" He was practically shouting and Delilah raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore. "We have to get you sorted don't we? Let me just get the hat."

  Delilah's eyebrows knitted together, she was a Ravenclaw and wanted to tell him that, but she knew she couldn't. She bit her tongue as Dippet brought out the old and torn hat that had decided where she belonged all those years ago. Or perhaps, this hat hasn't exactly done that yet. Delilah looked at it apprehensively and Dippet misread it for fright. "Oh don't worry! You'll hear a voice in your ear and he'll just decide which house he sees you best fit into." The hat hovered above her head and she spared one last glance at Dumbledore before it fell over her eyes.

  Everything was silent for a few seconds before a gruff voice cleared its throat in her ear.

Hello?

Oh, Miss Meddows? Well isn't this a surprise. Come for a round two?

Wait, you know me? But we don't meet for another half century-

Don't think too hard about it, dear. I don't think your brain can take it, so much is happening inside your head it's giving me, of all things, a headache.

Please, just sort me into Ravenclaw. I want this over with.

Ravenclaw? Are you sure?

What do you mean, "am I sure?" Of course I am. I'm a Ravenclaw. You put me there. I belong there, they share my traits. Witty and creative and they never sleep enough. Though I could do without all the riddles.

Well, yes, that is true. You are deep down, a Ravenclaw at heart. But, do you really believe you belong there now?

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Stop being cryptic.

  The Sorting Hat chuckled and Delilah felt the urge to rip it off her head and set it on fire.

It means, Delilah Meddows, that you belong somewhere else in this time. Your skills are to be of use somewhere else, somewhere to help.

That's still not making any sense...what house?

Why, Slytherin, of course!

You're joking.

I never joke.

But-But I'm not a Slytherin! I'm not ambitious, I'm not that cunning, I don't think. And as I'm sure you know, my self-preservation skills are a bit rubbish.

You're wise beyond your years, my dear.

Exactly! A Ravenclaw trait!

Believe me, you are needed in the house of Salazar Slytherin. Time will tell, it always does.

Now just hang on a bloody minute-

"SLYTHERIN!"

  Delilah's mouth fell open and she ripped the hat off, shooting daggers at the old cloth and set it rather roughly on Dippets desk. "That was infuriating." She muttered but froze when she saw Dippet looking at her confused and Dumbledore wore a slight smile but, though he didn't look happy.

  "What was infuriating?" Dumbledore asked and she shifted a bit in her seat, her fingers playing absentmindedly with her sleeve. "Oh nothing it was just...not what I was expecting." She'd forgotten he wasn't too fond of Slytherin house, even though he took a liking to Snape, for some odd reason, and he was friends with Slughorn. Although that man was anything but harmful, talented yes, but harmless. Then again, every companion Dumbledore took on always seemed to be so he could get something in return.

  "Well isn't this exciting! A new addition to Slytherin! Oh, Horace will be very pleased." Delilah turned quickly to look at Dippet. Slughorn was here too? She felt relief shoot through her, she knew two teachers then. At least she had a loose form of familiarity. "Albus, I believe he has a class at the moment, so would you get her schedule together and show her around the castle?" Dippet asked as he began to file through enrollment papers. "Of course, sir. This way." He led Delilah out into the hallway and as soon as the door shut she whirled around. She attempted not to laugh as Dumbledore leaned back in order not to get hit by her hair.

  "I cannot believe it put me in Slytherin!" She whispered fiercely. He sighed and gestured for her to keep walking. "What house were you in before? Gryffindor perhaps?" He mused and Delilah shook her head with a slight smile. "No, I'm afraid not. I'm a Ravenclaw, but most of my friends were in your house." They walked aimlessly towards the courtyards, seeing as she didn't really need a tour. Delilah was sure she knew this castle better than most, thanks to the Marauders map.

  "It's not that I have anything against Slytherin," she began and kicked at a pebble. "It's just, I don't belong there. Despite what the hat said. It said I'd be useful and I was there to help. Though it wouldn't tell me why. And," she cut herself off as she stared at a fountain they were approaching. She remembered when in fourth year, Ginny tripped and fell in, and afterwards pulled Delilah in with her. They laughed so hard their ribs hurt, then Snape found them and gave them detention.

  "I'm not a pureblood." Delilah said quietly and Dumbledore looked at her for a moment. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the man, "I'm not ashamed. It's just, this is Slytherin in the forties. People in my time still hold a prejudice and I can only assume it's worse here. Especially with Grindelwald looming over everyone's heads." She would never openly admit this, but she's read some of Grindelwald's speeches and other claims and the man did know how to work with words and persuade. She never agreed, of course. His ideology considered her the scum of the earth.

  Delilah wasn't a pureblood, but she wasn't a muggle born either. No, she was a half blood, which to some isn't as 'bad' but it isn't as good either. One of Grindelwald's lines was stuck in her head and she hated how beautiful it was. The context behind it however was a nightmare.

  "Magic blooms only in rare souls."

  He wasn't wrong, the gift of magic was magnificent. She did feel lucky, both her parents were magical but neither were purebloods. Even if they were, being a witch or wizard is never guaranteed. She could've been a squib. That was the problem with the pureblood fanatics. Their chances of being a squib were just as likely as hers. Plus all the inbreeding. Delilah shivered at the thought of having to marry a sibling.

  "Well," Dumbledore began. "Should the occasion arise when you're asked about your ancestry. You can say you're from a distant line in France." Delilah nodded but bit at her lip, a bad habit of hers. "But, isn't there a Lestrange here? And Rosier? They'd know I was lying." He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. Delilah still wasn't used to seeing him in a suit. "We can meet weekly, and should any problems occur please come tell me. If you ever fear for your well-being, please alert me at once. Personally I feel you'll do well, I believe you can handle yourself. But...some of the people in the house have slightly questionable morals, I suppose. Just be careful, Miss Pontmercy." He patted her on the back and she smiled at him. Confused for only a moment as she realized that was her new name.

  She never really got private time with the man. Harry was always the closest to him. Delilah only talked with Dumbledore on occasion, but he was always helpful and always knew what to do. Again, he was a bit infuriating, but she understood Harry now. Dumbledore just had the enigmatic aura about him. "Let's get your schedule together, do you know your O.W.L or N.E.W.T scores?"

  "I was in advanced potions, defense against the dark arts, transfigurations, care of magical creatures, and charms. Then I'm in arithmancy, alchemy, and ancient studies." Dumbledore laughed lightly as he opened the door to his office. "Quite the accomplished witch, aren't you?" Delilah flushed slightly and shook her head. She wanted to tell him about Hermione, but he'd meet her all in due time. Notably forty eight years.