Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Thirty Eight

The streets of London were busier than usual, most likely due to it being summer break for students. Children ran in the streets while teens smoked around hidden corners. She watched them with keen interest, and a tad bit of envy. What she would give to be anyone else right now.

"Come along," Tom chided, curious to what was so interesting about a group of muggles drinking out of a flask. Their laughter rang in his ears but he ignored it, like she should.

Delilah wondered how different her life would be if she was a muggle. The bliss in the ignorance almost seemed intoxicating. Not in the forties of course, but in her own time. Going to a normal school, normal classes, normal everything. However, picturing a life without magic just seemed... empty. Despite all the chaos it also caused.

They turned down a familiar street, Delilah only recognizing it when they came upon the memorial. There were even more names added, more pictures, more letters from loved ones. Tom stole her attention away when he began to peel at the pictures, pulling up a few layers. "Hey, what are you-"

It was a worn picture of a pilot he stopped at. Standing up on her toes to peak over his shoulder, Delilah squinted her eyes to read the name.

Aaron Cloverfield.

"So that's who," Delilah muttered, staring at the young pilot. He was quite handsome, a pity he went so soon. She was going to ask Tom why he mentioned him in his graduation speech, but there was an odd expression on his face so she left the topic alone. He looked conflicted, nearly uncomfortable, as he tore his gaze away.

"This way," Aleksander urged them along, also peering at the picture but saw no immediate importance. Delilah knew exactly where they were going, but it kept it to herself as they neared one of the entrances to the ministry. "It's just around this corner-" he stopped short and threw out his arm, blocking Tom from moving any further and causing Delilah to run into his back.

"Ow," she grumbled, rubbing at the new sore spot on the bridge of her nose. Aleksander shushed her with a finger to his lips and and she felt like smacking him.

There were muffled voices, maybe about five in total. Having casual conversation from the likes of what they could hear. Tom looked down at Aleksander's arm that was still blocking him and lightly slapped it away. The childish act nearly made Delilah laugh but she bit her tongue.

After a few minutes, conversation ceased and Aleksander slowly stepped forward, looking left and right before gesturing for them to follow. The cobblestone beneath her feet was still slick due to the previous nights rain, nearly causing the traction on the bottom of her shoes to give way. Rounding the corner completely, she was met with a red telephone booth.

"This is an entrance?" Tom asked, raising his wand as he ran a series of spells over it. Aleksander nodded, glaring at him half heartedly. Must he always doubt him? "Yes it is, it's muggle protected just in case a straggler finds themself back here."

Delilah took a step towards it and lifted an arm to open the door when Tom reached out his own hand to stop her. "Careful," he warned.

Rolling her eyes, she tugged on the handle and it squealed on it's hinges. "Calm down, it's just a phone booth not a bomb." His jaw ticked at her attitude but nonetheless he pulled back, though the smug smile she gave him wasn't appreciated.

"Ah," her nose scrunched up and she held a hand to her mouth, peaking her head back out to get a breath of fresh air. "It smells like shit and piss in here," Delilah gagged out. Tom bit his cheek to resist a smile and Aleksander merely chuckled.