Running her fingers along the quills edge, the fibers of the worn feather caressed and curved around her digits, it nearly tickled her. Mainly, it was a distraction.
Delilah couldn't stop thinking about that strange Hufflepuff girl, the one with the Sight. Who she was, was still unknown. Delilah had gone around asking as discreetly as possible, but she came up short. How could the girl just not exist? At each meal Delilah searched the tables; nothing.
Currently, she couldn't afford to dwell on the girls message. She couldn't allow herself to, home is what she needed to focus on.
Twirling her necklace, dark blue eyes turned towards the windows. Watching how the soft spring air rattled the distant trees in the forbidden forest, how some creatures ventured closer to the school, and how the skies seemed more clear and blue than ever.
What will she tell everyone when she gets back?
When will she be getting back?
With the time turner, Delilah could could go back to the exact moment she left. However, that would put her in the Ministry, completely vulnerable to Voldemort. If she sprang up alive, she was sure Voldemort wouldn't be pleased. For someone who's so good at killing, he seems to fail at murdering those he wants dead the most.
Like Harry, for example.
And herself.
Perhaps she could go a little bit before she 'died' and wait out in some empty office until her past self is sent to the forties.
Or she can travel a day or two after?
Delilah hadn't the faintest clue what she would do once she was able to see her friends and family again. Currently, she was so accustomed to life in forties Hogwarts. Surrounded by her new friends, going to classes, being somewhat normal yet out of tune all at once.
Being a proper teen again was elating.
Not having to be on the run or constantly looking over her shoulder, nor worrying about when she can eat again, or if the floor is too stiff to sleep on. Not having to ponder if death was only minutes away.
And Merlin, the countless hours she'd stay up listening to the Potterwatch. Her whole body rigid as they began to read the names of the newly deceased, hoping and praying no one she knew was proclaimed dead.
Those hours were always the worst.
Had she been pronounced dead?
Shaking her head, Delilah looked down at her textbook. She'd been looking at the same page for nearly twenty minutes.
Once she got the time turner, she could go back whenever she pleased. With that lovely contraption, she had all of time at her fingertips, waiting to be bent for her needs and obey every command.
Would it be selfish if she stayed a bit longer?
The moment the thought occurred to mind, Delilah pinched her arm so hard blood was drawn.
Yes, it'd be beyond selfish and utterly idiotic.
Besides the obvious gluttony she was eyeing and having her own bed, what other reasons did she have to stay?
A familiar set of coffee colored dark eyes popped into her head and she slapped herself lightly on the cheek, earning a few curious glances from her peers.
An awkward smile tugged at her lips as she raised a heavy hand to flip the page.
No.
He's not a reason to stay, he's every reason she should be leaving.
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Hierarchy of Need [t.r]
FanfictionBOOK ONE In the throes of the second wizarding war, Delilah Meddows is killed by no other than Lord Voldemort. However, instead of dying like she was supposed to, Delilah finds herself at Hogwarts in 1943. She tries to tread carefully, but Tom Riddl...