After she worked up the courage to leave the study, Delilah headed back downstairs to the kitchen. Tom, that was the only person she wanted to see right now.

Of course she missed Blaise and was elated with seeing him again. But she hadn't realized the toll it would take on her. She hadn't seen him for nearly a year and it almost felt as if they were strangers. Strangers who once knew each other, but not any more. There seemed to be a wall between them she hadn't the energy to break it down.

Stopping in the kitchen doorway, his seat was empty.

"Dean?" she called.

"Hm?" He was currently stocking up the cupboard with potions.

"Have you seen - where did they take him? Back to his room?"

"I would assume so."

"You didn't see them?"

He sighed and turned to look at her, the war had aged him. His eyes were heavier than she remembered and there were a few new scars littering his features.

"I don't exactly want to look at him."

Her heart hurt at what Tom being here was doing to everybody. She knew she wouldn't ever get them to understand that he wasn't like that creature yet. Voldemort robbed all of them from their youths. She didn't blame them.

A moment of silence passed and she gave him a mute smile and nod before turning around. Bill and her brother are typically the ones who move him, so she headed to her Harrison's room.

Delilah would just head to where he had been being held, but no one would tell her which room. She tried searching all of them the night before but came up fruitless, there were probably wards around it to keep people away. Most notably her and Harry.

Annoyance flickered when Harrison's room was empty, as well as panic due to her mother being sat at the desk inside. Quickly and quietly, she shut the door and continued down the hall.

She'd been successful in avoiding them for the most part and she preferred to keep it that way. Delilah had never been fond of her parents, and she knew they didn't particularly like her either. They loved her,yes. But didn't like her.

Eventually she knocked on Hermione's door, who thankfully answered a few seconds later.

"Have you seen Harrison?"

"He's out on a scouting mission, for a new safe house location."

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

Hermione's brows furrowed, "no, why?"

Delilah peaked around her and her friend shook her head, "Ron's in the war room with Harry, it's okay." Stepping aside, she let the girl in the room and Delilah took to sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hermione, please answer me truthfully."

Giving her a concerned look, she sat next to Delilah and rested a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

"Do you know what room they're holding Tom in? Please, I just need to see him for a few minutes and then I'll go. No one will know I was there."

"Delilah you know I can't-"

"So you know where he is then?" The desperation in her voice was nearly painful.

Hermione bit her lip but shook her head, "I don't know what room, I just know Kingsley is in charge of his holding. Where Tom was kept was under strict need to know. I don't blame them for not telling me, Merlin knows Harry would've found some way to get it out of me."

Delilah shoulders slumped, but she nodded. She knew he'd be alright, he could handle himself. Besides, the Order wasn't cruel. Surely they weren't torturing him. The past few times she's seen him he appeared alright.

She needed to get a hold of herself. The clock was ticking and they had a job to do, she couldn't wait around until they decided to let Tom out of his room again.

"I need to speak to Ron and Harry, all three of you. It's important."

  When they entered the war room, Harry only spared Delilah a glance before looking down at the multiple maps spread out across the table.

She immediately regretted this, it was always easier with Tom by her side. The weight of his absence felt crushing now - she felt stupid.

Hermione nudged her forward, though. Shooting her an encouraging glance and Delilah cleared her throat. "Um..." she scratched at the back of her neck. "I need to tell you all something, well- the main reason I'm even here really. And why I brought him."

Ron looked up finally, circles hanging beneath his eyes, stark against his pale skin. His freckles had seemed to fade more and more over the years, looking less like himself. "What do you mean?"

"Well-" she trailed, merlin why was this so difficult? Harry looked up at her through his glasses and her words felt like bile in her throat.

Just spit it out, she could hear Tom telling her.

So she did.

"Do any of you know about the Deathly Hallows?"

The trio stiffened, all eyeing one another, and the silence that draped over the room gave Delilah her answer. She knew they did, but she didn't want to come right out with it. Part of her was relieved, the other half concerned with their expressions - or if they would tell her anything.

"So is that a yes, then?" she urged, looking expectantly at Hermione.

The girl's mouth opened and closed a few times, her arms wrapped around herself as she looked between Ron and Harry. "How did you... what do you want to know?"

"Well that's the thing, that's why we're here, I mean. We need to find them, either here in the future, but if not, we find the locations of where they were and go back-"

"You're going back?" Ron cut in, blinking at her as if she'd just slapped him.

Harry just stared, his jaw looking tight and his eyes glowing - he looked like he wanted to hit her with something. Delilah wouldn't blame him if he did. Biting her lip, she pressed her hands to the table as if to anchor herself down, "listen, I promised Dumbledore. I don't have a choice."

That seemed to run a shockwave through the room, making them all appear to attention. Hermione stood up a bit straighter, "Dumbledore knew about all of this?"

"I think so... I mean, during that speech he gave in sixth year. It felt like a direct warning to me, about Tom. And when I got sent back in time he helped me find a way, but not just as a one way trip and done. He gave me a job to do, and he told me to take Tom with. So it must be important-"

"You never even liked Dumbledore," Harry said, his voice sharp and he'd crossed his arms, staring down at her. "Why trust his judgement?"

Delilah's eyes narrowed, "why do you? Harry I know we've never agreed on everything, but with Dumbledore it's always been concrete, you know that." He knew she was right, but the whole concept made his head hurt and he looked away stubbornly.

Ron sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he leaned against the far wall that had maps scattered all over it. "She's right Harry, Dumbledore wouldn't have sent him back here without a reason. Now what's all this about the Deathly Hallows? Why are you looking for them?"

She bit her cheek, this was going to sound daft.

"To defeat Grindelwald."

Hermione let out a spluttered laugh that sounded more like a cough, "I beg your pardon?"

"I know it's mad-"

"Yeah, it's completely mental. Do you really expect me to believe that?" Harry bit.

Her brows furrowed, "why would I lie?"

"Oh I don't know, why would you bring in the young version of the man who killed my parents-"

"Harry-" Hermione tried to reason but Deliah shook her head. "No it's fine, I get it."

Looking back at him, her eyes settled and it felt as if someone dropped hot coals down her throat but she forced herself to keep going. "Harry, I don't expect you to forgive me, okay? I don't expect any of you to, and that's fine as well. Right now that doesn't matter, this is so much bigger. I need you to understand that. Not just this war will be affected, but the last. Time is a fucking mess right now and on my life I know it's my fault. But I made a promise to Dumbledore, I need to get the Deathly Hallows- or at least find out where they were in the forties. I need to, many lives depend on it. As well as yours. I need to do this for all of you and everyone else, past and present. I don't care about me, that's not what's important. Grindelwald if after all three of them now, he already has the elder wand. This is a new factor that wasn't in play before."

Harry ducked his head down, his hand reaching up to absentmindedly rub at his scar. He hated her right now, but something was telling him she was right- whatever this was, this war... he already knew it wasn't just about him. But this only seemed to multiply it by ten.

Sighing, he turned to look at her, Ron, then Hermione, and back again. He trusted Dumbledore, no matter how infuriating it was at times, no matter how confusing. He had to, Harry didn't feel he had much choice.

"What exactly do you need?"

Delilah gnawed at her lip, "I know you have the cloak... after a bit of digging I realized you're related to the Peverell line."

He tensed and she shook her head, "I'm not asking to take it, not unless it's absolutely necessary. If we can find out where your grandfather was in the year that I left I can get it then and then return it afterwards." Well, she could only hope.

The trio looked at each other again, trying to swallow this new weight that had been added to their hell.

After a moment Harry nodded once, the movement quick and sharp, "I understand."

  He had calmed himself down from his panic attack by trying to do that breathing technique he had taught Delilah. It felt pathetic- he felt pathetic. Tom hadn't spiraled like that since he was a child, back at the orphanage.

Nights in that decrepit building were always the worst, especially in his youth. The walls seemed to breathe down his neck, the floors creaking just to set off his nerves.

Tom Riddle was a very lonely boy.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of Wool's, turning his ring over in his hands a few times, pure boredom creeping in but he felt exhausted. Sweat still glistened at his brow but all he could do was stare at the cracked ceiling.

"You look dreadful."

He turned to stone at the voice- no.

His eyes slid to the side, slowly, a breath barely passing his lips as he looked at where the voice had come from. He felt cold.

"Have I finally gone mad?" he muttered to himself.

"I think you went mad a long time ago, Riddle." Elio mused.

Tom blinked, his eyes felt heavy at the movement, as if everything had gone in slow-motion. This wasn't actually Elio, it couldn't be. The longer he looked at him, though the lighting was dim and poor, he could see the bars partly through Elio. The boy taking on a grey-silver hue.

"Are- how? What?"

Tom Riddle was lost for words.

Elio smiled, leaning against the bars and he looked around the cell, amusement pulling at his brows. "They certainly did a number on you," he mumbled. Tom was still staring at him, the late Rosier found it rather comical, if he were to be honest.

"How are you here?" Tom finally managed, sitting up. His throat felt like gravel, "am I having a psychotic break?"

Elio laughed, short and sharp. Something Tom hadn't felt in a while nudged at his ribs- guilt.

"I don't think so, but how would I know?" He then held up his own hand, watching in curiosity how he could see Tom's face through his palm. "I don't know how or why I'm here, this is your doing."

Tom felt like throwing up, but he managed to just clear his throat. Biting his cheek he forced himself to look at Elio.

"I'm... I'm sorry-"

Elio shook his head, "don't"

"I am, truly."

He didn't answer, instead he merely looked around again. "So this is the future?"

"For the most part," Tom leaned his back against the bars from his place on the floor.

Elio tsk-d, "it's pretty shit."

A small laugh broke from Tom, "I suppose it is."

"And Delilah?"

Tom sighed through his nose, "I don't know where she is."

"Is she okay?"

There was a pause, "I hope."

"Well, I can only assume she told you then?"

Tom quirked a brow, "you knew?"

"I did... don't be mad at her. She was scared."

"I'm not mad."

Elio's head tilted to the side, "I know, it's quite odd. You look different."

"How? It hasn't been that long since you- well, yeah."

Another beat of silence and Elio looked down, "yeah." Walking over, he sat down on the mat next to Tom, though there was no indent, seeing as he actually wasn't there. Tom wasn't sure if he were a ghost or merely a figment of his imagination. He supposed it didn't matter either way.

For a long while, or perhaps it was only minutes, they just stared forward. Watching how the dust in the air circled.

Tom wondered if this was some sort of trick his mind was playing on him. Just dealing him one hell after another. Part of him feared if this would be a chain, what if all the people he felt responsible for, or at least their deaths, started appearing to him? Would Rosie be next? Then Myrtle, his father, his mother...

"Take care of her, will you?"

Tom turned to look at Elio, he'd gotten more hazy, the bitter cold fading into a dull chill. The boy returned his gaze, his eyes no longer a pale green, they were just.. empty. A mere sheen of what once existed.

"Promise me, Riddle. Take care of her."

His jaw clenched, his throat feeling tight.

"I will."

And he was gone.

Glancing down, the magical restraints had been broken off his wrists. The grin that grew on his features was sharp as it cut into his lips, he could feel the magic thrumming around him again. Could feel it sinking into his skin, making his bones vibrate in a low hum.

Elio never did cease to surprise him, even in death.