Hierarchy of Need [t.r]

Chapter Thirty Nine

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He'd gotten so used to losing people, that didn't mean it hurt less. Harry was just better at not showing it. It'd been three months since the Ministry plan went wrong, when Delilah didn't come back. And there he was, laying in bed during another sleepless night. Whatever it was she was trying to retrieve would've helped them along, somehow. Now no one knew where it was.

The old town house the Order was currently in was still heavy with mourning. Everyone felt guilty because they never realized the impact Delilah quite had. Her fiery spirit mixed with her indifference was an odd combination, but it made her presence known. Now without her there was another hole added. There was always a new void when they lost someone.

Something was off, though. Harry could feel it. Delilah couldn't be dead, she just couldn't. He felt so sure of it, like a nagging in the back of his head wouldn't let him forget.

He shut his eyes as he remembered that blasted day. When she didn't come back. Harry knew something was wrong the second his head seemed to explode, and one thing was running through his mind.

Voldemort was furious and confused, a dangerous combination. The sheer weight of that creatures anger seemed to shatter Harry's mind and whatever tolerance he'd built up over the years. This was a new experience entirely. One more thing completely puzzled Harry however. While he was thrashing on the floor, feeling as if his head was being split open, a single thing was running through Voldemort's mind. Or he should say, a single person.

Delilah.

Rubbing at his eyes, the whole situation confused him. Apparently no one else thought it off, from their point of view it seemed clear she was dead. Seeing as Voldemort's followers cheered about her death in the streets.

A strip of moonlight on the ceiling caught his eye and he followed it to the crack in the curtains, hovering just above Ron's sleeping frame.

That day was also when Blaise broke.

Harry never knew him personally. Blaise was always silent, stoic, at Draco's side. Then now and again Harry would see him in the courtyards or the library with Delilah, his head in her lap as she read a book or they just talked. It was clear they were close, Harry never knew why but he didn't question the girl. Delilah always did her own thing.

It was strange, seeing the rage that shattered the boys calm demeanor.

Blaise blamed Harry for her death, maybe not completely, but nonetheless the intent was there. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place. Harry supposed Blaise was right. If it weren't for him, she would still be here, safe. A lot of people would.

The screech of hinges rang in his ears as the door then burst open. Harry shot up in bed, wand in hand and aimed at the door, ready to fire. Blinking a few times he came to realize who it was and he let out a relieved sigh, "good lord, Hermione don't do that."

She ignored him as she stumbled further into the room and shut the door behind her, a book clutched to her chest and she was panting, her eyes as wild as her hair.

"What is it?" Harry asked worriedly, hearing the mattress creak behind him as Ron stumbled up to his feet.

"Mione? What's wrong, love?" His voice was groggy due to him being half asleep.

"It's Delilah," she gasped out, fumbling for the light switch before setting the book she held down on Harry's bed. Ron came over and sat on the edge with her, looking at the book confused. It was old and slightly worn, the Hogwarts emblem pressed into the leather cover. "What about her?" Harry asked. Curious, he was just thinking about her.

"I can't believe I was so stupid, how did I not recognize sooner? Merlin I'm thick-"

"Hermione."

"Right," she sniffed and flipped open to a page. It was a picture of the graduating class of 1944, all chattering and laughing, not standing still for the photo.

"Yeah, so?" Ron rubbed at his eyes and Hermione muttered something but Harry wasn't paying attention. His eyes focused on one person and the deepest hatred settled in his heart. It burned.

Tom Riddle.

He looked so... normal.

Everyone in the photo seemed happy, turning to their friends and laughing.

There he stood with the rest of his class, clad in his graduation robes. A broad, pleased smile on his features. Though Harry's brows furrowed as he noticed something in Riddle's demeanor shift. His cocky grin softened as his eyes looked off to his left.

Harry felt his heart jump into his throat.

Tom was looking at Delilah.

"What the hell," he grabbed the book and brought it closer to him, trying to see if it was some sort of trick.

Hermione and Ron fell silent at his sudden outburst. Biting at her lip, she observed Harry for a moment,
contemplating if saying anything would make the situation better. "I'm still not positive it's her, I mean, it could be a relative."

Looking below the photograph, names were listed and he scanned for hers. He skimmed over it twice since he was looking for Meddows. Eventually it clicked and he paused.

"Delilah Pontmercy."

"She doesn't have any relatives with that name, does she?" Ron asked and Hermione shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of."

Harry's head began to hurt, but not because of the scar. "But how? How could she be there, in 1944. With him."

Hermione was at loss for words as both of them looked at her, since she usually always had an answer. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I really don't, it doesn't make sense."

Rubbing at his scar, he looked back at the photo. He watched as Delilah glanced over her shoulder, right at Tom Riddle, and he watched her smile.

"Why does she look happy." His tone was accusatory and he didn't know why. "Again, Harry we don't know for certain it's her-"

"We know damn well it's her." He snapped the book shut and stormed out the room. "Bloody hell," Ron managed to breathe out, staring no where in particular as he tried to process the news he'd just been handed. Hermione rubbed small circles on his back before resting her chin on his shoulder, "I know it's a lot to take in, we've all mourned her and now..." she trailed. Nonetheless, she felt a small burst of hope in her chest. There was a chance to get their friend back.

"Everybody up!" Harry's voice yelled, causing the couple to flinch.

A few seconds later Harry was met with the sounds of doors opening, tired groans, and questions. "Are we in danger?" Luna's airy voice asked, she was still dressed in her day clothes and eating an apple. Apparently he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

He was now at the bottom floor and looked up at all the tired faces staring at him, worried and curious. His eyes met Hermione's and she smiled, giving him an encouraging nod.

Gulping, Harry raised the book up halfheartedly, "Delilah's alive."

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