Chapter Text
Thick fog swallowed the narrow cobblestone path snaking between close-set and crooked buildings, here and there a lantern illuminated the air, making it seem like ghost lights floating over the heads of the very few witches and wizards lurking underneath them, it was almost freezing so you pulled the shawl over your head closer, avoiding making eye contact with anyone around. It wasn't as if you were a stranger to Knockturn Alley but you still preferred to not make acquaintances with any nasty sorts, your reason for visiting was strictly business.
The dark sign with the golden lettering over the front door of Borgin and Burkes was the first indication of the shop peeling itself out of the fog, followed by the big, illuminated windows. You hurried inside, the shop seemed entirely empty so you followed the sound of a feather scraping over parchment, amplified by the silence that threatened to suffocate the rest of the shop.
Behind the counter sat a young man, his dark locks covering half his face as he looked down onto the parchment. When you stepped up to him he looked up, his face was stone cold and his dark eyes seemed to be able to pierce your mind but by Merlin was he handsome, just breathtakingly beautiful.
Out of the corner of your eyes you saw him quickly slipping something into his pocket before carefully placing the parchment and feather onto the counter.
"Do you need help with something?," he asked with a voice smooth like silk and finally a smile played on his lips.
"What did you have there? It looked interesting." You originally came in to look for magical artifacts, planning on adding to your little collection at home, but you couldn't resist trying to chat up the young man.
He protectively laid a hand on his pocket. "Nothing for sell I'm afraid. But there are plenty of other artifacts that might also spark your interest. Cursed jewelry, ancient masks, torture devices. Is there something specific you are looking for?"
Despite the somewhat frozen-in-place looking smile, his eyes revealed no emotion and to your own displeasure you were intrigued.
"I believe you are in possession of an ancient figurine that came from a Romanian village, am I correct?," you asked.
"You did your research. Yes, we are indeed, follow me," the man replied and led you between dusty bookshelves and various items strewn over tables, some covered with more, some with less dust.
He stopped in front of a display cabinet filled with small figurines, the wooden faces painted in a way that made them look like demons, you eyed them curiously and when you turned to ask for the price you noticed the young man eyeing you curiously, heat crept up into your face.
"You must have kept track of it to know you'd find it here," he said matter of factly, letting the statement hang in the air but you took the bait.
"Indeed, I have a certain interest in these ancient artifacts and sometimes you have to dig a bit deeper to find them," you replied.
"And that means you have quite some experience in finding these, no doubt." He contemplated you for a second and then stretched out his hand towards you. "Tom Riddle, nice to meet you."
You took his hand and gave him your name.
"What a lovely name," Tom said, flashing a grin. "Have you had any other interesting finds lately?"
You were delighted to see that you had a shared interest, the usual experience with people working in shops like these - especially in a shady corner like Knockturn Alley - had been rather unpleasant, they rarely knew much about the artifacts and were only interested in taking as many Galleons as possible from you but Tom seemed different in that regard.
"I did stumble upon a time-turner that is supposedly able to take you a few years into the past," you answered. "To be honest, I'm uncertain if that is true and I didn't dare to test it."
"Interesting indeed but also dangerous, I have heard of their existence but I fear we only have one that shouldn't be used for more than a few hours into the past. Erasing minor mistakes," Tom said with a wink. "But most of our inventory consists of trinkets like these and quite the assortment of potions ingredients."
"What are all those skulls lined up on the upper shelves?"
He looked up and pointed at one with a huge, black horn on either side.
"That is a Hodag, I myself secured it from a rather wealthy wizard with a taste for killing wild creatures. It wasn't easy to convince him to part with it but with the bone dust you can create some very potent potions," Tom explained and then pointed to a row of bird-like skeletons perched on the top shelf. "These are Augureys, nothing really special about them but their call is supposed to be a death omen so they sell well to witches and wizards who are into those sort of things."
Your gaze followed his slender fingers, looking at all the things he showed and described to you, Tom's voice was low and soothing and so you listened with great interest, eyes flickering over to him every once in a while to marvel at his beauty but every time he had his eyes locked on you, making you feel caught. If it made him uncomfortable however he didn't show it in the slightest.
"There are many more," he said. "But you said your interest are artifacts so please excuse me if I bored you with all these explanations."
"You didn't bore me at all, I was the one who asked about them. Although I have to confess that I don't intend on buying any of them."
"I didn't think you would, it just doesn't happen every day that a young woman with a shared interest for such artifacts enters the shop," he said, coyly looking at his shoes and then stepping closer, leaning towards you so that his mouth was mere inches away from your ear. "We do have some items in the back that are, let's say, not quite Ministry approved."
You turned to face him, cocking an eyebrow. "Is that so, Mr. Riddle?"
He didn't reply, instead he clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at you.
"I am happy with the wooden figure. For now. But I would not mind returning very soon and have a look, see if anything is worth my time."
"Someone with your expertise can no doubt figure out which special items we have?," he asked.
"I might but why waste time with endless research if you so freely admitted to being in possession of such?"
"I will see you again then?" Tom's smile widened, he was still so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"It seems like you will, maybe I can find a valuable addition to my collection. But for now," you began, gesturing towards the figurine.
"Yes, of course, of course," Tom said. "I won't keep you much longer."
He took the figure out of the cabinet, weighing it in his hands and then made his way back to the counter, beckoning you to follow him. You let your eyes drift through the shop once more while the handsome man wrote a few numbers on the parchment in front of him, your gaze got stuck on a shelf with vials of various sizes, the liquids inside were bright and colorful, a big jar glowing pink, another jar containing a dark blue liquid, a small vial with bright green swirls inside, and many more.
"Poisons, I'm surprised Borgin puts them on display like that," he said when he saw what you were looking at. "But it is his shop so he will get in trouble if the Ministry finds out, not me."
You cocked an eyebrow. "Do Ministry workers never check in here?"
"Rarely, usually only the kind that somehow benefits from the shop. I fear not everyone who works for the Ministry plays by the Ministry's rules."
He pushes the parchment over the counter towards you, it stated the cost for the figurine but also a few dates and hours.
"What are those dates?," you asked while pulling a few coins out of your bag.
"My work hours the next weeks, just in case you'd rather come by while I'm here," Tom replied with the most charming smile. "Of course it is your decision and must fit in with your own schedule but you should know that neither Mr. Borgin nor Mr. Burke have much interest in the artifacts themselves, only in the money that can be gained with them."
You had already suspected that Tom Riddle might be the best option when it came to the artifacts themselves, most shop owners you got to know on your treasure hunts were merely interested in the money and seldom knew what treasures they possessed, they knew only their worth and then doubled the price.
“Do you live in London?,” he asked.
“No, but I have a room in the Leaky Cauldron paid off for two weeks for now."
"Ah," he said. "Treasure hunters usually don't stay in one place for too long but I suppose there is much to be done in London."
"And everyone deserves a break every once in a while," you replied with a smile while putting both the figurine and the parchment with Tom's working hours into your bag. "Now, please excuse me, but if I want to make it back for dinner I should be on my way now."
"Of course, it was a pleasure to meet you," Tom said with a slight bow that amused you.
"Likewise, I’m sure we will meet again. I know when I can catch you," you said, gesturing towards you bag.
Somehow you found it hard to peel your gaze away from him but once Tom bid you goodbye you turned and left, through the shop window you could see that he was still watching you and a pleasant warmth spread through your body.
On your way back you paid the lurking witches and wizards no more mind than you did on your way to Borgin and Burkes, you left Knockturn Alley behind and turned into Diagon Alley. It was like entering a completely different world. Most of the shops here were already closed, just like in Knockturn Alley, but there were far more lanterns around, the handful of people walking up and down the road at this time did not linger to ogle any passersby and instead either ignored everyone else or flashed a smile. Instead of vials with poison, skeletons or dark grimoires, the windows displayed schoolbooks, clothes, wands, Quidditch gear and herbs and they generally seemed much cleaner.
You finally reached the wall separating Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron and the muggle part of London, with a few taps on the bricks an archway appeared and you walked up to the heavy dark door to the inn.
The warm air inside engulfed you, it smelled like stew and ale and you could hear the bubbling coming from the kitchen mixed in with the chatter from the people in the parlor. You headed up the stairs to your little room to drop off your belongings and wash up. When you were done you let yourself drop onto the bed for a quiet break before heading back down, reaching into your bag you felt around until your fingers grazed the parchment and you pulled it out, Tom Riddle's handwriting was elegant and neat. It seemed like he was educated and yet worked in a shady shop selling things. You decided you'd go back in two days, right now he seemed more intriguing than those artifacts he wanted to show you.
But first you needed dinner and some rest.