Northern Crown [t.r]

Chapter Thirteen

  Tom stood behind them, a clearly forced pleasant smile on his lips. The expression taught on his handsome features. His eyes gleamed something dangerous as he looked at Blaise, sharp like a blade and it stung. Making the man lean back.

  She spared him a glance before turning back to Blaise. Not being phased in the slightest by Tom's intimidating demeanor, "really?"

  Blaise shrugged and stepped away, "I've always had a thing for blondes."

  Tom's jaw tightened.

  "Does that include Draco?" She teased.

  "Again, shut up."

  Delilah smiled at him knowingly as he finally walked away and Tom stepped around her.

  "What was that about?"

  "Nothing, he just finally plucked up the courage to do something." Her hands found familiar purchase around the nape of his neck as they began to dance aimlessly. Merely swaying with the beat of Christmas music from a more modern era that Tom wasn't sure he liked.

  He found he didn't like a lot of factors about the nineties. Even though the world itself wasn't at war, it somehow felt duller to him than his time. There was a lack of elegance, he felt like his steps were now misplaced. All those years he had worked on himself to become better than those around him suddenly felt fruitless and he was now three steps behind again. His world upended.

  Tom wondered if that's how Delilah felt when she arrived in the forties.

  He shook his head, people just didn't care and he couldn't get himself to agree with that.

  "I don't like it here," he admitted. Looking over Delilah's head easily and noticing how some people tried to be inconspicuous with their lingering glances. Their eyes flashing like lighthouses, flickering in and out of sight but always rounding back onto them again.

  Good. Let them watch.

  He had accepted their hatred even before arriving in this time. That didn't necessarily mean he wanted to put up with it. There was always a good balance back at Hogwarts, yes people loathed him, but adoration tipped the scale into something manageable and malleable for him to play with. A God peering down at Man, knowing he can influence their actions despite not all being happy about it.

  "Well we're going back soon enough, so if you could try harder to hide your pouting."

  His narrowed eyes looked down at her, "I am not pouting."

  She cut him a half bemused smile before resting her head against his chest. His heartbeat spiked for a moment before calming again, the sound a lullaby. "Harry is still trying to convince the higher Order members to let him come with us."

  "That would be pointless, surely he knows they'd never let him leave. Especially since the war is on the fringes." Tom spotted the green eyed boy across the room, looking some semblance of happy for once as Ginny wiped whipped cream from a pastry off of his nose before kissing him. The boy smiling like a fool.

  "That's what everyone keeps telling him, he needs to stay and fight." Her sentence ended with a hiccup and a grin nearly made itself present on his lips.

  "Wouldn't want a repeat of last time, now would we? You might even get bold and start dancing on the table proclaiming your absolute adoration for me."

  She smacked his arm, "I might have been shit-faced that time but I know for a fact such nonsense did not leave my mouth."

  An uncharacteristic and rather devious smile grew on his face, "are you so sure about that?"