the unhallowed affair - t.m.r

un visiteur du passé

"Yeah, yeah."

Tom couldn't bother hiding his amusement. The mischief playing in his eyes was undeniable. "I don't blame her, Mrs. Borgin."

"Oh, you can call me Corvina. You guys probably won't be needed all day. I'll let you guys out early. Is that okay?"

"More than," Juliette laughed, heading out into the front of the store.

"I apologise on her behalf," Corvina chuckled, turning to Tom.

"Don't," Tom waved. "She's entertaining to be around."

"It's just her French personality. Ill-mannered, they are."

"She's no trouble," Tom assured.

"I'm in the room guys." Juliette huffed, crossing her arms.

"Stay away from that," Mrs. Borgin pointed to the necklace in front of him. "I don't need you getting injured."

"Juliette said the same thing," he laughed, standing up to leave.

"I'm serious!" Corvina called out behind him, sighing.

Today was another slow day for everyone. As predicted, the rain kept most customers away. There were a few stragglers here and there, but nothing remotely interesting happened until the evening.

Juliette was behind the counter, wandlessly charming a mini cloud above her hand, feeling the mini raindrops hit her palm. Tom was upstairs as usual, no doubt with his head buried in a book again.

The shaking noise of an umbrella drew her from her dazed state.

"Hello love," the voice called. It was smooth like a smoke cloud, slightly raspy.

Juliette looked up to where the voice originated, only to be greeted by a young brunette woman. It was hard to describe her. Her eyes were a smoky grey, matching her voice. Her hair, brown, was wispy and curled, styled so elegantly even from the rain. She had a thin frame, but something about her told Juliette this woman was not petite enough to be helpless.

Perhaps it was the scar. A long, thin silver scar ran along her collarbone. It gave Juliette chills.

"What can I do for you today Ms.-"

"Lestrange." The smoky woman finished. "Anastasia Lestrange. Is there a 'Mr. Riddle' working here currently?"

"I'm right here, Anastasia. What are you doing here?" He answered, coming down the stairs. She didn't even realise that Tom could've heard. His tone was different than Juliette had ever heard it before. It was icy and cold, and if looks could kill, Juliette had no doubt Anastasia would be six feet under.

"I just wanted to see how things were going, we're all dying to know," Her grin was that of the Cheshire Cat's, sinister and laced with ill-intent.

"You know her?" Juliette questioned.

"He hasn't mentioned me? Why, I'm shocked!" she fake gasped. "Being fair, he has never mentioned you either, though I wish he would have earlier," Her eyes were glued to Juliette.

"Anastasia," Tom warned. "Get out. It's not your job to flirt with her. Leave."

"Why don't you answer the pretty blonde's question first?"

Tom sighed. "Yes, Juliette, we are acquainted. Are you happy now, Anastasia?" He glared at her.

"No," she tutted. "Why don't you tell her the full truth?" She bit her lip, her evil smile returning.

"I will do nothing of the sort. Leave."

"Is there a reason why you won't tell her?"

Tom said nothing, only glaring at her in response. He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He didn't need to say anything, his body language spoke for him, at least in Juliette's eyes.