Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Nineteen

"Will you come to visit?" Rosie asked, hugging Delilah tightly around the waist. She smiled lightly and brushed away the girls hair, it hurt to lie to her. "Of course, little one."

"And read me more stories?" Her wide eyes stared up at Delilah and she felt an uncomfortable tug in her stomach. "Yes, lots and lots of stories." Rosie gave her another tight squeeze before letting her go.

Delilah stepped into the large fireplace next to Tom, who looked rather impatient. She grabbed a handful of floo powder and turned to face forward.

"Promise me?" Rosie spoke with a stern look in her eye. The hope of a child is a powerful thing one shouldn't meddle with. Delilah felt a tight smile pull at her lips. "I promise."

Tom rolled his eyes and grabbed Delilah's hand, throwing the floo powder down with the motion.

"The Leaky Caldron." He said clearly, ignoring the glare she was shooting at him.

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As Delilah opened the door to her room at the Leaky Cauldron, she dusted off the soot from the fireplace. The room was small and held a decent sized bed, the old wooden floors covered in a thin layer of dust. She wrinkled her nose and made a mental note to clean it later.

The group would be staying at the inn the last few days of the holiday, each person staying in their cramped rooms next to each other. Delilah snickered a bit at the thought. After staying at a manor for the past week, she was sure the rest of them were used to higher standards of living. Hell, even the dorms at Hogwarts were nicer.

But as she sat on the rickety bed, dust coming up in clouds, a sense of fondness washed over her. Delilah observed her room.

Wallpaper was peeling, revealing the cracked surface underneath. The ceiling hung low and was slightly caved. There was a single window looking out over the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, people bustling to do after Christmas shopping.

Everything was the same.

Delilah could almost pretend she was back in her own time, enjoying a holiday with friends. But as her eyes peered closer out the window, she didn't recognize the environment. Not really.

Absentmindedly messing with the necklace around her neck, Delilah got up and paced the room. Watching with a strange fascination the way her shoes made a track on the dusty floorboards. She felt odd, empty perhaps, or just blank.

She didn't feel like her. Like a person. She simply felt like a body with no immediate purpose.

There was a rap on her door and it took nearly ten seconds to process the sound. Shaking her head, Delilah plastered on a smile and opened the uneven door; one side was longer than the other.

Lolita stood in the hall with two cups of tea, the steam billowing out of the rim. She raised an eyebrow, asking silently if she could come in.

Delilah moved to the side. She didn't know why her brain was moving so slowly. Maybe she was just tired.

Lolita's pretty features scrunched as she observed the room. "Dear, why haven't you cleaned yet?" Her dark eyes found the memory of floor tracks, she raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. Waving her wand, the floor was suddenly spotless, a floral scent also now lingered in the air.

Delilah sat on the bed while Lolita grabbed the desk chair, then offered her the cup. "Drink, you look awful."

She chuckled at her friends blunt statement, Lolita always said what she was thinking. She didn't have a filter, but she was never rude. Delilah liked that about her.