36: The wizarding world fair.

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After Shiv had bought the whole group breakfast (she had to because of the language barrier, but Slughorn didn't really make an attempt to pay her back the money), they all started walking towards the well hidden location of the fair.
It was a nice morning, a little cold, but with a clear blue sky and bright sun.

Shiv slowed down a bit until she was walking next to Tom at the end of the group.
'What happened last night? I can't imagine it was you who was making Brax laugh like a hyena, and Rome doesn't look too well,' she inquired as she took a bite of her pain au chocolat, looking up at him sideways.

Tom was wearing the long black coat he had worn so many times before, with a matching black scarf. The early morning air was still quite chilly, and Shiv saw his breath linger in the air when he spoke.

'Brax is very fond of giggle water. As for Rome.. we got into a little argument. He was mad about the whole room situation,' Tom explains. His breakfast seemed to only include a cigarette. He put it between his lips and covered it whilst trying to light it.

Shiv knew there wasn't really such a thing as 'having an argument with Tom'. If you disagreed with him, he became angry, and when he was angry, he turned violent.
'So? Anything changed about the rooms?' She eventually asked.

'Of course not,' Tom chuckled. He took the first drag of his cigarette and tilted his head backward a little to blow out the smoke. He looked down again and found her eyes. 'Did you eventually sleep well?'

'Not really, but I fell asleep as soon as we got here, so I'm alright,' she responded honestly.
They turned into a quieter part of the city and continued walking at the back of the group.

'Okay, good. We have important things to do today, I need you by my side at all times,' he said, and his tone became more stern again.

Shiv raised her brows. 'Tom, I have things I want to look at and do myself today.'

'Well, you better hope some of your plans overlap with mine then. You're staying with me,' he said dryly. He threw away the remainder of his cigarette as the group entered a small back alley and stopped in front of a large steel door. It seemed to be the entrance to an abandoned warehouse, no sound to be heard from inside its walls.

Slughorn tapped his wand to the door and spoke loudly: 'Professor Horace Slughorn, accompanied by 5 Hogwarts students. Here on the invitation of Philippe Pamplemousse.'

The door slowly dissolved completely, leaving a thin white cloth that moved in the wind slightly. You could now hear soft muffled noises come from the other side. Slughorn smiled excitedly and gestured for his students to follow him in.

The space behind the curtain was enormous. Shiv could vaguely make out rows upon rows of stands and stages, all of which had something bizarre happening at them. Hundreds of witches and wizards buzzed around the huge open space, looking at everything the fair had to offer. Shiv could barely make out Slughorns voice, calling for all of them to follow him.

They made their way over to a stand somewhere in the middle of the row. They were greeted by a fairly young but disheveled looking wizard. His black hair had some gray strands in it, and his beard was braided down to his chest. He had piercing, light blue eyes that reminded Shiv of her own. This had to be Philippe.

'Horace! How lovely,' the wizard exclaimed, and he almost knocked over a cauldron on his table as he walked around it, over to the group. Philippe and Slughorn embraced for a few long seconds. 'And how amazing of you to bring your students,' Philippe added with a thick French accent. Shiv smiled, thinking of her grandfather on her mom's side.

'Phil, this is Tom Riddle. I've told you plenty about him,' Slughorn beamed.

Tom stepped forward and reached out a hand to Philippe. 'Nice to meet you, thank you for your invitation. It's very kind of you, sir,' he said with his usual charming smile. The two shook hands, and Tom stepped back again with a polite smile. The way he moved himself around authority figures and people with influence was almost unnaturally perfect.

Sacred Silence | A Tom Riddle Story Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu