♧Bonnie & Clyde || Tom Riddle♧

Chapter 25

The magical market is sprawled with vibrant stalls, each displaying an array of exotic ingredients and enchanted artefacts. Felicity and Abraxas navigated the bustling lanes, their eyes scanning the diverse offerings in search of one of the components for the spell – Kashmir lavender.

Felicity inspected each stall with thorough determination, her keen eyes scouring the displays for a hint of the distinct lavender variety.

Abraxas, tall and regal, followed closely, his sharp gaze surveying the market's eclectic offerings. "Do you see it anywhere?" he inquired, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

Felicity shook her head, frustration etching her features. "It's not here. Kashmir lavender is rare, and this market may not have it. We might need to try a specialized apothecary or explore other magical communities."

Abraxas sighed, a flicker of concern crossing his aristocratic face. "Time is of the essence now. Tom's plans are in motion, and we can't afford delays. Let's inquire with the merchants; perhaps someone has a lead or knows where we can find it."

They approached a seasoned herbologist, her stall adorned with an assortment of magical plants. "Excuse me," Felicity began, her voice carrying a polite haste. "We're looking for Kashmir lavender. Do you have any, or could you guide us to where we might find it?"

The herbologist squinted at them, her weathered face softening with a hint of sympathy. "Kashmir lavender, you say? Rare indeed. I don't have it, but there's a chance you might find it at Eldertree Apothecary, on the other side of town. If anyone has it, it's them."

Abraxas tapped Felicity's shoulder. "We can't afford to waste more time searching. Let's consider an alternative strain; perhaps another variety can serve our purpose."

Felicity turned to the merchant.

"Can you recommend another strain that might work?"

The herbologist considered their request. "If Kashmir lavender eludes you, you might want to consider Moonlit Lavender. It possesses a unique energy that could complement your spell."

Felicity and Abraxas exchanged a glance, the name resonating with potential. "Moonlit Lavender," Felicity repeated. "Do you have it?"

The herbologist pointed to a large vial on her stand.

"Take what you need."

As Felicity carefully gathered the Moonlit Lavender, a sense of relief washed over them. Though not the original Kashmir variety, this alternative held the promise of lending its unique essence to their spell.

Abraxas placed quite a lot of pounds on the stand "Will this suffice?" He questioned.

The woman smiled "Most certainly, the best of luck to you two."

"Thank you," Abraxas expressed, acknowledging the witch's contribution.

As they navigated through the magical market in search of essential ingredients, Felicity turned to Abraxas with a hesitant expression. The bustling atmosphere around them seemed to create a cocoon of privacy for their conversation.

"Felicity, what's on your mind?" Abraxas inquired, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity began, "To break Tom's love curse, we need a strand of his hair."

Abraxas raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and scepticism. "A strand of Tom's hair? This is a dangerous game, Felicity. How are we going to pull it off?"

Felicity hesitated for a moment, contemplating the delicate nature of their task. "I think I can manage it," she finally responded, her tone tinged with determination.

Abraxas studied her, concern etching his features. "Felicity, this is dangerous. Tom is not one to be trifled with. If he finds out what we're trying to do it could have severe consequences."

"I know, Abraxas. But it's a risk we have to take if we want to break his curse and put an end to all this darkness," Felicity asserted, her eyes reflecting a mixture of courage and uncertainty.

Abraxas sighed, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "Very well, but be cautious. If he suspects anything, it could jeopardize everything we're trying to achieve."

Felicity nodded, appreciating the gravity of her task. "I will proceed with caution.". We can't afford any missteps, "she said as they made their way back to Hogwarts.

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Tom, perpetually immersed in his machinations, was alone in the dimly lit room when Felicity approached. She hesitated for a moment, observing the weariness etched on his face, evidence of countless hours spent weaving intricate plots. However, the dark circles below his eyes were not taking away any of his handsome appearance.

Summoning her courage, Felicity spoke, "Tom, pardon my boldness but I think you are due to get your hair trimmed."

He glanced at her, indifferent. "I don't care about my appearance at the moment, Felicity. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"Allow me, please. It's the least I can do for you after betraying your trust," she implored, sensing a vulnerability beneath his composed exterior.

Reluctantly, Tom agreed, gesturing for her to proceed. Felicity retrieved her wand, casting a meticulous spell that transformed his dishevelled hair into a sharp, polished look. Strands of hair floated to the ground and rested on Tom's shoulders.

"Thank you," he acknowledged, oblivious to the hidden agenda that unfolded. Felicity discreetly wiped his shoulders, her deft fingers secretly concealing a strand of his hair within the folds of her sleeve.

As Tom turned to express gratitude, she masked her intentions with a courteous smile.

"I have been here for days, I am famished. Fetch me a plate will you, Doll."

Bound by the unbreakable vow, Felicity headed to the dining hall, her mind racing with the weight of her actions. The clatter of cutlery against plates provided an anxious symphony as she moved the strand of hair from her sleeve to her pocket and gathered a plate, careful not to attract unnecessary attention.

Returning to Tom, she presented the plate, "Here you go. I hope you find it to your liking."

Tom accepted the plate, his focus shifting back to his intricate plans. Felicity, however, grappled with the complex emotions that swirled within her.

Felicity, moved by an unusual curiosity, approached Tom, who was immersed in his dark pursuits. The coldness in her gaze clashed with the reluctance that permeated the atmosphere, and yet, she found herself compelled to ask, "Tom, what are you working on?"

Tom's initial reaction was to dismiss her, to turn her away from the shadows he was navigating. However, a subtle shift occurred within him, a decision guided by motives known only to him. He sighed, acknowledging her presence, and began to unravel the mysteries that occupied his mind.

"I'm figuring out how to free the basilisk," he started, his words hanging in the air like a dark incantation. "And, of course, I'm exploring the ways the philosopher's stone can grant me immortality. My ultimate goal is to become a more powerful wizard, to wield magic in ways others can only dream of."

The room felt stifling as Felicity, restrained by the weight of her loathing and fear, hesitantly engaged in the discussion of dark magic with Tom. Every word she uttered was met with his empty gaze, a gaze that seemed to peer into the depths of her thoughts.

As the conversation unfolded, their shared ambitions to ascend as sorcerers began to become clearer. The walls of resentment, initially rigid and unyielding, started to crumble. Felicity, against her own instincts, found herself reluctantly acknowledging Tom's brilliance, as if a seed of fascination had been planted in the fertile soil of their dark collaboration.

When the conversation came to an end Felicity excused herself and left the room.

Preparing herself to cast the spell.