Tom Riddle | Short Stories

You're MINE-Delilah Sparks

Delilah walked over to her map of clues. If you could even call it that. She had developed the habit of making this essential bulletin board of photos, testamonies, suspects, and places after watching a muggle cop film. She couldn't remember what it was even called. Delilah spent a lot of her time trying to find Lord Voldemort.

It was her department in the ministry, but even now as day turned to night and even her partner and best friend, Neil had left, she still stood there pouring over the same old clues.

Delilah was twenty five years old. She was the youngest ever to graduate the Auror academy, and had spent a remarkably small amount of time in uniform. But all the same she felt like a token. A token female after the ministry had gotten backlash over the lack of women in the force.

Delilah was the one that pushed forward in everything, so they chose her. The ministry still treated her terribly. She was determined to prove herself.

Lord Voldemort was not his real name. His name was Tom Riddle, in fact that realization had allowed her to almost close in on him and capture six death eaters in the process.

Delilah scanned an old file, looking over the accounts of murders, picking apart which ones were him and which were his death eaters. For all his faults, Voldemort was a particularly flamboyant killer. Delilah traced a finger over the dark mark in the sky. She snapped the case file shut.

This arrogance was getting old. He would have to slip up sometime, and she would be there when he did.

Delilah began putting everything into her bag and pulled her coat on. She walked out of her office to see her captain stumbling through the dark and desolate hallway.

"Captain Connors, what are you doing here?" She asked as she caught him before he fell over, she allowed him to lean on her shoulder as she set him down on the couch outside of the aurors office. "Are you drunk?"

Captain Henry Connors was going through a rather nasty divorce and took another swig out of his flask.

"No, Del, you are just prettier than usual." He slurred, bopping her nose which immediately wrinkled at his actions.

She sighed, sometimes she really hated her boss. She reached for the flask, and he pulled it away.

"I just want to refill it for you." Said Delilah innocently, at which he gladly tossed the flask into her hands.

"You are so nice to me." Muttered the captain as Delilah filled his flask with water, jinxing it to smell like gin. "Oh, gin!" He exclaimed sniffing the contents of his flask.

"I'm going to ask Marjorie to bring you some coffee, alright?" She asked.

"I am so mean to you." Said Captain Connors, lying across the couch.

"I'll just tear you apart in my memoirs." Said Delilah, she had developped an unnaturally thick skin.

Captain Connors let out a long loud laugh and rolled onto his side.

"You are funny, and pretty, and pretty." He said drunkenly taking another sip of the so called gin.

"And you are drunk," Said Delilah, standing to walk to where the night receptionist sat.

"No, stay, we can get to know each other better." Said Connors, lazily reaching a hand out.

"You are drunk." Said Delilah, walking away "Marjorie will be by with coffee in a moment."

Delilah frowned at the fact that this was the man she had to answer to. A forty year old alcoholic who didn't know how to leave his personal life at home.