Without any further hesitation, Tom's wand flicked forward with such ferocity he knew he might've strained something. He didn't care. He was seeing red and the spell glimmering around them reflected that.

  Bellatrix let out an excited squeal of delight, but fear was evident in her wild eyes. She knew what he had been capable of, he nearly killed her once. And it was clear this time he was much more angry. Her own arm twisted and a curse shot forth.

  He wanted to laugh, and without realizing it he was. The sound was sinister and foreign, he sounded like a mad man as he hurled another cruciatus curse at her—one after another in a thundering procession.

  Merlin, she looked frightened now. He felt dizzy as he lashed at her, and though she was able to block each curse, it was making her stance and strength crumble. Her feet were skidding and dragging against the dirt, not being able to stand still for more than a second. All she could focus on was blocking the curse.

  The window was open.

  Evertestatum.

  He didn't waste a moment as she was flying through the air and shot the cruciatus curse at her again, slamming right into her chest and she fell to the ground in a pathetic heap of twitching flesh.

  He dropped to one knee at her side and his hand wrapped around her throat and brought her head off the ground, keeping it still as the rest of her body thrashed in agony.

  Her eyes were bulging, but she refused to scream. Her face was red and veins were swollen beneath her pale skin as she let out agonizing but silent yells of frustration behind clenched teeth.

  He forced her to look at him, and just then— yes there it is. Recognition. Tom's face was white as a ghost, but carved from marble as he revealed nothing but pure hatred as he stared at her. There was a dead look to him, while his eyes were like the pits from hell and fathomless. He was an empty carcass of a boy who had been overtaken by a monster.

  If Bellatrix believed in God, she would say the devil was leering over her delivering his judgment.

  But no, she knew who this was.

  "Say it."

  His voice was calm, deep, and horrifying. He was giving nothing away, he offered no solace in her terror.

  She choked out a scream and blood spatter out and over his face.

  Tom didn't know what happened.

  He could've just used the spell. It was a memorized lullaby on his lips, but he didn't use it.

  He could smell blood— he could taste it.

  He needed it.

  An insatiable hunger took over him and he let himself retreat into the dusty crevices of mind. It was like he took a step back inside body as black ink started to creep around the corners of his vision.

  The inky strings wrapped around each of his limbs and made him into a grotesque puppet for the morbid hunger of bloodlust.

  His body snapped to attention when his mind went silent and a newfound strength surged through his veins.

  The creature was loose.

  Tom stood up, Bellatrix's neck still tight in his grip and her feet kicked out in jerks of desperation. His held tilted to the side as he watched her for a moment.

  Pathetic.

  He slammed her up against a tree and a sharp gasp for air broke past her in a wail.

  "Wait—"

  His free arm jerked back and surged forward, his fist driving into her stomach and she felt like she was about to puke. Her nerves were on fire.

  He threw her to the ground and pounced.

  All he could hear was the crack of bones and the squelching sound of flesh and wet sounds of blood.

  Again and again and again.

  His fists found purchase in her skull.

  Only when she stopped twitching and screaming did he fall back. Panting and drenched in warm crimson.

  He hadn't felt this elation in over a year. It was something dangerously addictive and when he got a taste of it he went into a frenzy.

  This was different though.

  Her death was written in the stars.

  He staggered up, but his vision was so hazed he genuinely couldn't tell if she was still breathing. Tom was panting as he half heartedly wiped blood off his face with his arm, but all it did was smear it a bit.

  Looking down at his hands they were dripping and his own blood that leaked from his knuckles was falling in fat droplets to the dirt. Turning the ground into a dark sludge of bloodied mud. Her shattered bones had cut deep into skin as he hit her, but the pain was only an echo.

  Looking around, he spotted his wand laying on the ground and picked it up, the light wood felt slick in his hand as it quickly got stained. He turned back to Bellatrix's body, watching with a burning fury for any movement.

  Just the slightest rise of her chest set him off and the forests around him burned green before she fell completely still.

  Bellatrix couldn't hurt her anymore.

  He had to make sure of it.

 
  She couldn't move.

  He seemed to float towards her in a mass of black shadows and his eyes were piercing.

  Looking at him hurt more than frightened her. That realization was enough to give her a headache. Regardless she found she couldn't speak, she hadn't the faintest idea what to do. She just hoped Tom was somewhere else, and in one piece.

  "Delilah Meddows," his voice was a hiss and she felt herself go cold.

  He was a heartbreaking sight.

  "I don't doubt you're curious," he began, his movements were so different now. He more... not human. She knew that from the sight of him, but seeing it in his mannerisms and body language was something else entirely. It was a mockery to how he used to be.

  "You're so happy with him now... why would I kill you? It's truly an exciting tale." He came to a stop in front of her, the crimson almost looked like it would start leaking blood.

  "You left him."

  Her brows furrowed. That can't be right.

  "When?"

  Her voice shocked her and appeared to take him a bit off guard, though it was incredibly hard to tell. She didn't know this person. She never would. He was separate, Voldemort even phrases it himself.

  He tortured her, killed her.

  Tom would never.

  They're two different entities.

  He looked at her for a moment, thinking. Some actions were so basic he'd never be able to shed them. Little crumbs of who he used to be dropping at his feet in a thin layer of dust.

  "The ministry." He finally said, his voice sounded like it was sitting on the edge of a blade. He wasn't sure.

  Was... Tom had been right.

  The laugh that left her made her eyes go wide immediately after and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

  His hand shot out and took hold of her face, his claw like nails pin pricking her skin and she stared at him wide eyed.

"Tell me," he hissed. "Tell me what changed or I'll force it out of you."

"Go to hell." She bit through her teeth.

  The moment Tom caught sight of him he froze. His body feeling out of place as the adrenaline from the kill was fighting with the astonishment and disbelief at who was in front of him. It was one thing to see him in a vision, but to have his demise physically there... it was all too tangible then.

  Delilah's scream snapped him out of it and he surged forward, taking some of the nearby Death Eaters by surprise but he easily made them fly back with a silent curse.

  He only faltered slightly when Voldemort turned around and they made eye contact. It was horrid.

  He couldn't hesitate and threw the first thing to come to mind.

  Green flashes in front of him and only then did that seem to make Voldemort snap out of his shock and dodge the spell.

  As much as Tom would love to kill him, they had to get out of there. He didn't want to risk anything, especially since they were so close. Not to mention he knew Voldemort wouldn't spare either of them. He may hold them for questioning, but besides that there was no need.

  "Delilah run!" He shouted as spells began to fire over their heads from multiple Death Eaters surrounding them. Tom could barely see a thing with all the glimmering lights.

  They need to run. That's all that mattered.

  Delilah only then realized she was free to move when Tom shouted. His presence caused Voldemort to lose focus and the spell set her free.

  She wouldn't leave him.

  Without a thought she began fighting. A swath of dark cloaks descended on her second by second but she couldn't stop. A sudden burst of adrenaline felt like it was tearing her nerves apart as spells left her wand in a thundering procession.

  "How are you here!" Voldemort's voice was a boom that made chills ravish her skin despite how overheated she felt. After searching hastily she saw them, Tom's blood drenched form reflecting the same deep crimson alight in Voldemort's eyes.

  Both looking absolutely furious and horrified, if even possible.

  The odd thing though, Voldemort wasn't fighting back. All he was doing was defending himself against curses, never taking a shot at Tom.

  It only took a second for her to realize it was because he was frightened. Of course he was. His whole life's purpose was self preservation— he wouldn't dare risk the life of his past self.

  Voldemort didn't know one thing however.

  The timelines were different.

  Tom appeared to notice this too, after all he'd slowly been backing Voldemort into a corner. Curse after curse slamming into Voldemort's defenses it sounded like a shock wave was resounding in the air each time.

  There was almost a rabid look in Tom's eyes, the dark in them a black hole of loathing and desperation as he looked at the creature in front of him. At his failure.

  He didn't realize it but he was screaming, he sounded like a mad man and he knew he looked like one too.

  At the exact window of opportunity Tom shot forward and dragged Voldemort closer by his robes, driving him right into his already maimed fist and pain shot yo his arm but he couldn't stop.

  Delilah dodged another spell and nearly fell when she reached them, her foot tripping over wood. She cursed at herself mentally for her lack of balance before she realized how vulnerable Voldemort was.

  Just feet away.

  Her eyes flicked down.

  Now or never.

  Shooting forward, her hand swiped out and grabbed hold of the Elderwand in Voldemort's hand. The creature was too distracted and screaming to notice.

  "Now!"

  Tom practically flew towards her and grabbed her arm, and the world warped around them in a crushing inception of smoke and magic.

  They landed in a matter of seconds only yards away, both of them shaking but Tom managed to loop the time-turned around both their necks. He only hoped the right time was on it as he spun it.

  As the battle around them began to change, Voldemort's screams were all that could be heard, but he grabbed hold of her face with his bloodied hands. "Fuck, I love you."

  And he kissed her as everything faded.

When they finally stopped, when they were finally back in time... all she could do was stare at him.

  God she had really lost it hadn't she?

  Delilah felt too frightened to even bring it up in case she imagined it and ripped herself away from him as soon as they got their footing.

  "So we should go find Dumbledore—"

  "What? No, Delilah—"

  "That would be best, actually we should go right now. Or I could just go, I know how much you hate him—"

  "Delilah—"

  "You can just head back to the house—"

  "'Lilah please, look at me." His hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her into him, forcing her eyes to meet his.

  He searched her features for what felt like ages, waiting for the panic to leave but it never did. He didn't necessarily want to talk about it and it appeared she didn't either. Nor was it really the time.

  His brain was screaming at him for even saying such a thing. Where the hell did that even come from? Had he detached himself from his rationality that much during the fight?

  Shaking his head, he sighed lightly, bidding his thoughts to shut up for once. "We need to find the others first." He paused for a moment and brushed her hair back, relaxing a bit as some tension left her. "Something doesn't feel quite right."

  Delilah took a deep breath before nodding, "okay."

  As they walked through the tall grass, sand even really began to crunch beneath their shoes and the safe house became noticeable over the dune. When they got closer however, Tom stopped her as his eyes narrowed.

  "We're here too soon."

  Her brows furrowed and she looked closer at the house and the figures moving inside of it. Specifically two very similar looking figures.

  They were a day too early.

  "Are we just supposed to sit out here?"

  "It seems that way, yes."

  "Great," she slumped down on the sand and pulled her knees up to her chest. She hoped to see the others soon to take her mind off... things. A welcomed distraction.

  Tom sighed and sat down next to her, not enjoying the distance he suddenly felt but was allowing it. It was probably for the best.

  To pass the time he observed his ring, watching the laces of magic intertwine with each other but they were strained. The pulse of his horcrux thrumming violently, as if trying to break free and latch onto him again.

  Was his soul a part of the Hallows? Would that mean anything? Would it change how it worked?

  He bit at his cheek and turned to her, "may I see the wand?"

  Delilah blinked at him, not even realizing she had been holding onto it with such a vice-like grip that when she let go her knuckles began to cramp.

  The second it met his skin he felt a shockwave of power shoot through him and his eyes went wide and jaw went slightly slack.

  Her brow raised as she looked at him, "you okay?"

  He seemed as equally as confused but it was mingled with awe, "you didn't feel it?"

  "Feel what?"

  Interesting.

  He shook his head, "never mind." As Tom looked at it closer and flipped it around in his hand he could tell how old the wood was. About how many different wizards and witches had held it and wielded its power.

  There they were, side by side. The power to bring back life and the power to end it.

  Just one more to go.

  "What are you thinking?"

  Tom thought for a moment. He was thinking a million things. He just said the first one that came to mind.

  "I've had a theory I believe is true about Potter."

  "Oh? Which is what?"

  He finally looked at her, he had no idea how she would respond to this. "I believe he's a horcrux."

  A short laugh left her, "don't be ridiculous."

  Tom narrowed his eyes, "I'm not. It's plain as day to see the signs."

  "Yeah, well you would know, wouldn't you?" She snapped and then turned away from him.

  Delilah knew she was being unfair, but so much was going on inside her head she couldn't keep up. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. "How?"

  "Well when he told me the story of how he got the scar, that alone seemed a bit obvious. But I wasn't sure till he mentioned his... side effects? He feels what Voldemort feels, he can hear his thoughts, he can see what he sees. And it gets worse with rage."

  Turning to look at him, her brows were furrowed and her eyes filled with anguish. "Is there any way to get it out of him?"

  "Not one you'd like."

  Delilah squeezed her eyes shut and let out a breath.

  She just wanted to sleep.

  Feeling movement beside her, she opened her eyes and saw him looking at her. "Get some rest."

  "What about you?"

  "I'll be fine."

  "You always say that."

  "And you never believe me."

  After a while Delilah eventually dozed off, her exhaustion dragging her into a deep slumber and she finally looked at rest for once.

  That's all he did. All he could do, really.

  He was trying not to think about earlier but it felt like his mind had been infected with the thought.

  Did he regret it? Did he mean it?

  There were so many questions he didn't know how to answer.

  It just... spilled out of his mouth. The venomous honey dripped off his lips before he could process it.

  No matter how sweet they tasted, his mind and body fought against the poison it would bring. Of the downfall they would ensue.

  Love killed people, and Tom Riddle wanted her safe.