Hierarchy of Need [REWRITTEN]

Chapter Ten

  Do not comment spoilers or rr, they will be deleted.

 
  A week had passed, and Madame Fontaine refused to let Delilah leave the infirmary, except for the bathroom.

  "Save your strength."

  If she heard that one more time, Delilah considered throwing herself out the window. She felt fine, just tired. She always was, her mind apparently didn't like the taste of sound sleep.

  Lolita came to visit often, usually after lunch to complain about how insufferable Olive was being. And of course her tales of some secret lover. The meetings were nice, Lolita had even painted Delilah's nails a nice shade of red and would brush her hair while singing lightly. She had a beautiful voice that made Delilah envious, every time she tried to sing it sounded like she just suffered from a coughing fit.

"Why aren't you in frog choir?" She'd ask, only resorting in Lolita snorting.

"And hold those nasty things? Never."

  Elio came by every afternoon, bringing her snacks from the kitchen, homework to work on, books she wanted from the library, and pepper imps with sugar quills.

"Elio you're a gem." She sighed as she nibbled on her treats. He smiled brightly, a slight fluster in his cheeks that seemed to be permanent.

  When he first found out Delilah had fallen ill, he nearly broke his nose as he ran out of the common room, due to tripping over the leg Cain stuck out. He remembered Tom walking in, composed as ever. His cool gaze fell on Elio, who was nervous he'd done something to anger Tom.

"Your girlfriend is in the infirmary." He said flatly, walking off before Elio could ask questions.

  Delilah smiled at the memory of him stumbling through the infirmary doors, disheveled hair and panting. "Merlin, you alright love?" He asked her, stalking over to her bed despite the healer's protests.

"I'm doing beautifully, can't you tell?" Delilah had just woken up from a restless nap. Not really ever sleeping, it always felt like her psyche was barely just sinking into slumber but then deciding not to.

  Madame Fontaine persisted she stay for longer. Saying something didn't feel right.

  Her favorite visits however were when the boys would come by all together. They'd crowd around her bed, sprawled out on chairs or even nearby beds. They'd rant about a number of things, Quidditch, Slughorn's favoritism, and classes. Delilah even got Abraxas to finally try a pepper imp. He made a disgusted face, but she didn't miss him sneak another candy into his robes before he left.

Then the eventful morning came, Madame Fontaine was leaned over her bed holding her robes. She didn't have to speak a word before Delilah was up on her feet and leaving to go change. Throwing a thank you over her shoulder as she went.

  "Fuck, finally." Delilah sighed as she left the infirmary, dressed in clean robes that smelled of lavender.

The halls were empty, most people were in the Great Hall for lunch. Resisting the urge to skip in glee, Delilah settled for a self indulging spin, and as she turned a corner, she ran right into someone. "Shit."

  As she stumbled back, her elbow hit the wall and she hissed.

  "Language, Pontmercy."

  She sighed, her eyes flickering to the form in front of her. He seemed even more daunting that day. Looking down at her like a god would upon a disappointing disciple.

  She feigned indifference to his judgment and crossed her arms. "Must you be everywhere I am when I get clumsy? It's growing to be embarrassing."

  Tom looked her over, a week's worth of rest seemed to do very little in returning her health. Though her skin was more flush with warm pink, and her eyes were back to their alertness. Exhaustion clung to Delilah like a macabre expression of elegance.