Tom somehow let two years past him by without doing much of anything. Two years seemed like it should've been enough. It was certainly more than enough time to make a decision about what he really wanted. It might've even been enough time to have become truly immortal, considering Tom's extraordinary skills. Unfortunately, there sat Tom, on a dusty stool at the cashier desk of Borgin and Burkes, completely unchanged two years later. He was casually flipping through The Secret of the Darkest Art, checking to see if there was something he might've missed about Horcruxes. Sometimes he still got unwanted visits from the pieces of his soul and no amount of books he could scavenge about Horcruxes seemed to be able to tell him why. It was not like the information within the pages fascinated him as much as it had those many years ago when Frankie had first discovered the copy at school. Now, it was basically just memorizing the techniques and saving them away for future reference when he eventually got out of Borgin and Burkes. If he ever got out of there.
His main motive for being employed at this shop was to find something rare enough to make a Horcrux, but in the two years he'd been there, he had found nothing that "intrigued" him. While they hosted a variety of different dark oddities, none of the items were anything special compared to Ravenclaw's Diadem or Gaunt's ring. The next Horcrux had to be like them. Historical, one-of-a-kind, significant. Those were the types of items that should've been protecting his soul. Sure, some of the things brought into the shop were extremely rare, but not items anyone would kill to get their hands on. He wanted something to die for.
"Are you reading that damn book again?" a voice asked, unknowingly breaking Tom from his deep mental thoughts. He looked up from the book slowly to find one of his bosses glaring down at him. Mr. Burke was busy getting on his jacket and trying to stop his greasy black hair from getting into his eyes as he struggled to force his other arm into the sleeve, when he'd noticed Tom reading. The dubious shop that Tom had been employed at for the past couple of years was run by Mr. Borgin and Mr. Burke, if the name didn't give one an obvious clue. However, apart from Tom, only ever Burke was around to handle the daily operations in Knockturn Alley. Borgin practically never came back in whenever he went out. Even Tom had only seen him a few times over the time he had worked here. He usually sniggered at Tom's common name and said his face was too pretty for the Dark Arts, which Tom was still deciphering whether or not that was meant to be a true insult.
"Yes, sir." Tom answered, obediently. He'd learned by now that talking back was the wrong idea in a place like this. Mr. Burke was far more dangerous of a man then he could have thought. Over the years, Tom had nothing much to do but observe his only constant semi-human interaction. Burke was not a teacher, but a collector. A man driven by greed. When someone came in with something extremely peculiar that Mr. Burke really wanted, Tom saw it in his eyes. There was this mad look that threatened all who got caught in its beam of selfishness and desire. Tom had only been able to see it because, in the past, he had gotten the exact same look. He knew it well.
"Good—glad you're still educating yourself in the dark ways, might come in handy someday..." he answered. Surprisingly, he didn't shout and swipe the book from Tom's hand this time. He usually hated Tom reading at his desk when he was supposed to be there 'working'. Perhaps, he was just into much of a rush to care, which meant whatever he was going out for must've been something good. He started for the door immediately, stomping away from Tom and swinging open the tinkling doorbell. "Man the shop. I'm going out for a bit."
A few long minutes went by where all that could be heard was the dull ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner, which never seemed to get sold for some odd reason. Then, suddenly, the bell on the door chimed with the first customer of the day. A young woman walked in who was around Tom's age, like most girls who wandered in here. He sighed. How bothersome and typical. He'd been lounging at the Leaky Cauldron one night and heard a rumor had been going around about a certain sales clerk in Knockturn Alley. Apparently, he was so handsome it was worth the possible deadly curse. So, here she was. Very clearly and intentionally 'lost'. She was looking around for a few seconds at the creepy skulls and eyes in bottles before turning her attention to him. "Hello."
"Good day, miss." Tom answered, turning on his charms now that there was someone present. He stared into her dark eyes so intensely it looked as though he was trying to peer into her very soul and mind. Naturally, it was all a trick though. He didn't really care and some random girl who foolishly thought she had a shot wouldn't tempt him in the slightest. But, what a small amusement to let her think she could. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Oh—not particularly. I just—" she stammered, not daring to meet his cold gaze again. But suddenly his eyes were not on her. His eyes were fixed on something outside. There was a noise. A muffled noise, made by something in the alley. The sound that was like a hacking cough could be heard as a jet-black creature had flown across the window.
"Great—then get out of the way." Tom muttered, cruelly. He pushed passed her and ran out to the front of the shop. Tom stood in the narrow alley, looking around a little, before he finally spotted what it had been. He sighed as a fat blob of an owl sat on the roof, looking quite reluctant to leave its spot, as it stared towards the horizon over the alley.
"Twilit! Get down here, you dumb bird. You don't want to be attacked by the crows again—do you? Come on!" he demanded. The owl noticed his voice and flapped his wings in preparation to go down. Twilit took one or two flaps before he practically fell off the roof into Tom's arms. He sighed and carried him inside; ignoring the stares he was getting from the woman he had been talking to. "Finally..."
Attached to the bird, of course, was a letter. This one was tied with a pumpkin orange ribbon and had black cats and pumpkins drawn on it that were apparently supposed to be somewhat frightening. Only she would dare to send a letter like this to one of the most horrific shops in Knockturn Alley.
Dear Tom,
Happy Halloween! I hope you're doing well over at the shop. Last year you seemed to be pretty busy this time of year selling allegedly cursed artifacts. Was it similar this year? I suppose I should be happy for your good profits, but I still think you should quit. Do you remember that year we went school shopping, and I accidentally went down Knockturn Ally? You nearly had a heart attack when you found me in Borgin and Burkes, holding a strange-shaped locket. I actually thought it looked pretty, but you thought it had to be cursed sitting in a place like that. Mr. Burke finally came down, shouting at us to leave before he hexed us. We left so fast that we nearly ran over a woman and her house elf. Honestly, that man still scares me. After we returned to the Leaky Cauldron, you made me wash my hands about fifty times before we could go home. It was a dreadful experience and, needless to say, I'm not very motivated to return to the shop any day soon.
I really hope you're not overworking yourself over there. I worry about you a lot. It's not healthy to work so much. You should really take a break and come visit the castle. I'm sure Dumbledore would love to see you again and I know I would too. I haven't seen you in almost two years. I think the last time I saw you was when I was out shopping with Ogg and Hagrid for some of the nastier pest control items in Knockturn Alley and you were working. It was only for a second, do you remember? I'm sure you can't. I don't even think you saw me. They had me pretty well disguised..."
Tom briefly stopped reading, his mind hovering on what was supposed to be a summary of a whole three months, but had ended up being yet another trip down memory lane. He was starting to suspect she might be doing this on purpose to get him to come back. Frankie was still at the castle. It was her own sort of place holder job, until she figured out where she was going in life. But, unlike Tom, she held no ulterior motive for being there. She loved the school and was most likely going to stay there as a teacher someday soon. Kettleburn had to be somewhat close to either retiring or getting arrested. She might be there forever, unless he manned up and collected her before then. Frankie was waiting for a future with him.
Tom continued to read about a life he longed to be a part of and got immersed in her world for a brief blissful second. He was reading the letter so intently that he had not noticed the young woman bitterly leave with an angered huff. Nor did he notice the chime of the bell announce the arrival of someone new. Well, whoever they were, they dared to ask him quizzically about the letter in his hands, "—Is that from Frankie?"
"How in the—"
Then, Tom actually looked up. His mouse-like school friend stood before him almost unrecognizable. He was professional and mature, after only two years' time and held a look of a more accomplished man rather than a boy who got teased almost every day in school. He frankly looked great, which shook Tom into more unease and made him question how long exactly he'd been stuck in the shop wasting time. "What are you doing here, Peter?"
"I just came for a small visit on my lunch break. You must get bored sitting here all the time." he shrugged. Tom scowled slightly. Frankie was different, but his 'friends' could come see him anytime. The Ministry wasn't that far. So, why was Peter the only one to have done so after all this time?
"How could you guess? Not only does Burke not let me go out to get some of these damned things, he hardly allows me to be out of this stool for more than five minutes." Tom answered, bitterly. "I can barely take a piss!"
"Well, you're the one who wanted this job in the first place and technically retrieving artifacts is not part of your job. You're just the store clerk." Peter said, in the same matter-of-fact tone Tom always used. However, he had never heard Peter use it before. "I'm sure once he feels he can trust you with dangerous artifacts, he'll let you retrieve them."
"It's been over two years! Why doesn't he trust me already?" Tom argued.
"He probably thinks you look like you're going to walk off with something valuable." Peter sighed, unable to do anything more for his friend's bruised ego. "—So, what did Frankie write? Haven't seen her in ages, but she still writes me and Ellyn all the time."
"That's a lie. You and Ellyn work in the Department of Magical Education. You can visit her whenever the hell you want!" Tom snapped back, knowing by ages Peter meant like months, not even a year.
"We're not supposed to actually go down there, unless there's some kind of emergency, and it's not like the Heir of Slytherin is running around attacking Mudbloods nowadays. Apparently, he can barely take a piss." Younger Peter would've never said that. He would've most likely agreed and offer to take Tom down there with them the next time they went to visit the school. That was one of the things about working at the Ministry that Tom might've liked if he had chosen to work there. Witches and wizards who worked at the Ministry had a certain look to them and held themselves with an exclusive brand of confidence. All the Slytherin boys had that now, while Tom, felt his confidence slipping away every second he worked in this dusty old shop. "So, what's going on?"
"It's the same old, same old, down at the school. Dumbledore is keeping her 'busy' supposedly—Honestly, how should I know? I'm stuck here and she's trapped there." he answered back, grudgingly. Tom knew that Peter already knew what was going on at school. He didn't need him to tell him.
"God, it's not like she's being held there against her will," Peter argued back. "If you miss her so much, take a few days off and go visit her."
"I'm not leaving. Not till Burke trusts me." Tom replied. It was an excuse of course. He couldn't even begin to tell Peter about the Horcruxes. No one could know. If he started telling anyone, eventually it'd get to her, and she was the last person he wanted hearing this news before it was time. To her, and probably most other people who actually knew what Horcruxes were, they were these dark repulsive creations and he had three of them. It was always a back-and-forth debate with himself whether to tell her about them or not. Tom concluded to wait until he had seven and had actually achieved infallible immortality before telling her anything. That way if she were to turn away from this side of him, Tom would still have part of the future he'd always wanted.
"Just give it a little more time." Peter sighed, once more, probably growing tired of telling Tom the exact same things over and over. "You are going to go back for her someday, aren't you?"
"Who knows what I'll do. Even I haven't a clue most of the time." Tom replied. He sometimes wondered if he should just stop trying to hold onto her and just let her go. Deep down, Tom knew that Frankie would be repulsed if she knew all his secrets and he was too deep in the dark to just simply let them go.
The door slammed close as Mr. Burke returned to the shop. He looked even more aggravated than before he had left and had a few new crumbs on his jacket. He immediately took notice of Peter and Tom and walked over.
"Stop loitering around, you. Get out of here!" he sneered at Peter, towering over him like a giant despite Peter's growth spurt. "—And Tom, get back to work!"
"Ack!—I'll see you some other time then, Tom." he squeaked, making a break for the exit. Suddenly, Tom could see the small mousy boy returning to his old self once more.
"Bye Peter." Tom said, sounding bored and listless, but also had somewhat of a smile on his face, as he stared back down at his book. His friend had not changed completely after all. It'd been nice to see someone, even if it wasn't her. Suddenly, he looked back up, before Peter had managed to make his escape. "How about the Leaky Cauldron?—Can you bring Ellyn after work tomorrow?"
"Sure thing! We'll see you there." Peter grinned. He left with a speedy haste but the smile upon his face stuck. Few people could say they left the alley smiling. Tom scratched Twilit's head as he began to read again, completely ignoring his angry boss's glare.
"I don't pay you to sit around chatting and planning your social calendar, you useless desk clerk!" Burke shouted. Tom had forgotten he was even there and looked back up to meet the sour glare of his boss.
"I'm sorry, sir. He just came in for a minute." Tom claimed, innocently. Even though he really wanted to retort on how he doesn't pay him much at all, he restrained himself.
"Well, don't let it happen again..."
"How was Ms. Smith?" Tom asked, analyzing the crumbs on his jacket and his attitude. He could tell he had gone to the house of Ms. Hepzibah Smith, a wealthy witch who was a frequent shopper at Borgin and Burkes. Every time he went to her house he came back empty handed, covered in cake crumbs, and releasing the anger he had not shown in her presence.
"Stingy broad is keeping all the good treasures to herself. She won't even let me have a look," Burke muttered back, darkly. "—And after I sold some of them to her, the bitch. What nerve..."
"What is it this time, sir?" Tom asked, curiously.
"She's got some goblin-made armor that would go for quite the galleons." he answered. He leaned against the counter, resting his tempers for a moment. Tom could tell he was trying to think of a way to get what he wanted, without resorting to murder. There was only so many times you could get away with it. Burke suddenly lifted his head, struck suddenly with a brilliant idea. "You should go try Tom—fancies you, she does..."
"But, sir, I'm just a 'useless desk clerk'. I'm not sure I even have room for Ms. Smith in my brimming social calendar." Tom replied in excuse, faking an innocent sort of mocking tone of voice.
"You may be a worthless piece of nothing, but your pretty face does have its benefits when it comes to selling with the ladies." Burke added, not seeming to notice Tom's wittily sarcastic phrase. What Mr. Burke said even sounded like praise, not a very good thing to be praised for, but praise none the less. "I've seen you work before. You can get a woman to buy or sell anything."
"It's not really my doing. Women are just stupid when it comes to men." Tom said, thinking about one in particular. His sweet, little Marjorie. Out of all the girls he had ever swindled into a fake love, she had definitely been the most foolish. He took a brief moment to question what she might be doing now, but quickly disregarded her again.
"Look, do you want to do this or not? You'll get commission." Burke shouted, obviously taking notice of the wit and sarcasm now.
"Fine then. I'll do it..."
Tom was dismissed from work early and confined to his room on the second floor of the store. He was ordered to send Twilit to Hepzibah, not back to Frankie, requesting to be invited for tea. Burke wanted him to make himself presentable and practice in the meantime. Practice, what exactly though? If he meant swindling women of valuable keepsakes, Tom did not need practice. He had once convinced a young lady to buy a rather beautiful opal necklace for twice its worth, without mentioning it was cursed. As she was walking down Knockturn Alley she decided to put it on. It was brought back almost immediately by Mr. Burke, laughing sinisterly at the 'poor luck' the girl had died mere feet from the store. They took what was left of her money and god knows where Burke had taken the body. Even though it was supposed to be a gruesome experience, it was one of the only times he had ever praised Tom for something, and he forced himself to be proud of it.
After sending Twilit off and bandaging some particularly aggressive but loving nips at his fingertips, Tom sat alone at his desk reading Frankie's letter over and over. He remembered the time she almost touched that locket. They were going into their second year of school and Frankie had wandered into Knockturn Alley, not knowing any better. Tom found her alone in Borgin and Burkes staring at a locket in her hands that wasn't her own. It looked as though it had bewitched her, and Frankie said nothing to him as he approached. The locket was gold, oddly shaped and gave him an extremely bad feeling the second his eyes had locked onto it. His stomach dropped when he grabbed it from her hand and quickly slammed it back down on the counter. Burke came yelling at them a few moments later, questioning how they removed the locket from its glass case and threatening to hex them if they didn't leave immediately. They crashed into a woman going into the shop, in their desperate haste to leave, and practically trampled right over her to get back to Diagon Alley in one piece.
He also remembered that minuscule second they saw each other. It was Tom's first summer working, almost a complete year since the wedding, and he was busy making change for a toothless old man buying a shrunken head. However, he'd looked up just in time to see her there. A bag of Flesh-Eating Slug repellent in her arms, she gazed into Borgin and Burkes as she passed with Hagrid, Ogg, and Rodger Day. Her faithful bodyguards. Tom had naturally noticed her hazel shade shining in the summer light before she remembered her cover was more important than the stifling heat and drew her cloak back over her head. There was only one person in such a dark place who would have that particular shade of hair. Once under the cloak, her hair turned like her sister's, and she stole her eyes too. It wasn't any better of a disguise, but he wouldn't get the chance to tell her. Her plan had evidently been to go on the supply run, even though she was not necessary, so she could get the chance to see him. However, she wasn't able to sneak away and had only managed to give Tom a friendly wave, hoping he would at least return it. He didn't wave back. Of course, Tom would've flat out run out of the shop for that chance to talk to her for even a minute or two. But it was a shining moment that he let walk past. She wasn't allowed to enter the shop, and he wasn't allowed to leave.
*~*~*
Tom arrived at the Smith manor at four the following day, where the old woman lived with her house elf. He knew it rather well by now for it was actually not the first time he had ventured to Ms. Hepzibah Smith's for tea. He had met her in the shop his very first morning on the job and she took interest in him right away. Ever since then Ms. Smith kept insisting, he come over to her house. Mr. Burke, always thinking he might bring back something good from her collection, let her take him. Tom sighed and straightened the tie of his suit, making sure that even though he felt like hell he would look as presentable as he could. He ran the doorbell once and could instantly here a hurry of steps and crashing of items to get it, most likely Hokey, the house elf.
"Good evening. Is Ms. Hepzibah Smith in at the moment?" he greeted the small elf, as she opened the door.
"Of course, she's been expecting you. This way, sir." Hokey answered, in her high squeaky voice. She gave him a low bow, trying her best not to make eye contact and allowed him into the house. Hokey led him through the slightly cluttered room, tripping over even more items then she had getting to the door. They soon saw Ms. Hepzibah Smith sitting in her chair as usual. She was a witch on the heavier side, but it was to be expected of someone who rarely left her house. Today she was draped in robes of pure pink and her head was donned with an elaborate ginger wig.
"I brought you flowers." Tom smiled, quietly, producing a giant bundle of roses from midair. He stared at them for a brief moment before handing them over. Roses. The symbol of love and beauty. Girls swooned for this old magic trick, yet every time he performed it he always thought of Frankie burying her face into a bouquet of carnations, inhaling their Sugar Quill-like scent on the very last day of school. Tom always had to try his best to block the memory from his mind or he would end up with the same pink bouquet of flowers in his hand. Roses were fine to hand out willy-nilly, but he wouldn't give just any girl carnations.
"You naughty boy, you shouldn't have!" she squealed, excitedly, grabbing the bouquet of roses from his hand and setting them into the empty vase on the table besides her. She was expecting them. "You do spoil this old lady, Tom—Sit down, sit down....Where's Hokey?—Ah!"
"Help yourself, Tom," Hepzibah remarked, practically shoving a plate filled with pastries in his face the second he sat down in the opposing armchair. "I know how you love my cakes. Now, how are you? You look pale. They overwork you at that shop. I've said it a hundred times...."
He forced a crooked mechanical smile, his mind still hovering on the girl in his memories, and Hepzibah simpered. She seemed to know now that Tom had ulterior motives for coming to see her just by the vacant look on his face.
"Well, what's your excuse for visiting this time?" she asked.
"Mr. Burke would like to make an improved offer on the goblin-made armor," Tom added. "Five hundred Galleons, he feels it is a more than fair—"
"Now, now, not so fast, or I think you're only here for my trinkets!" Hepzibah pouted.
"I am ordered here because of them," he answered, quietly. "I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes for me to inquire—"
"Oh, Mr. Burke, phooey!" Hepzibah whined. "I've something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm not selling it, not to Burke, not anyone! But you, Tom, you'll appreciate it for its history, not how many galleons you can get for it."
"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me." Tom answered, flashing a charming smile. Hepzibah gave another delighted squeal and clapped her hands to summon Hokey.
"I had Hokey bring it out for me—Hokey, where are you?—I want you to show Mr. Riddle our finest treasure. In fact, bring both while you're at it...."
"Here, madam." Hokey squeaked, when she returned with whatever it was. There were two leather boxes stacked on top of each other, that both looked rather ordinary now in the elf's hands. She shimmied around tables and clutter until she was by Hepzibah's side again.
"Now," she said, happily, taking both the boxes from the tiny elf and placing them in her oversized lap. "I think you'll like this, Tom—Oh, if my family knew I was showing you....They can't wait to get their hands on this!"
She opened the first box and Tom peered inside to have a look. It looked to be just a shiny gold goblet, however, with the wrappings it was hard to tell. Surely, it had to be something far more extraordinary than that.
"I wonder whether you know what it is, Tom. Pick it up, have a good look!" she whispered, as if it were some sort of secret. Tom extended his hand and lifted the cup up from its silky wrappings.
"A badger," Tom whispered, softly. The four founders of Hogwarts each had an animal to follow along with their house and this was one of them. A badger. There was only one person this cup could have belonged to. "Then this was....?"
"Helga Hufflepuff's, as you very well know, you clever boy!" Hepzibah clapped and gave a pinch of whatever fat was left of his cheek. "Didn't I tell you I was distantly descended? This has been handed down in the family for years and years. Lovely, isn't it? And all sorts of powers it's supposed to possess too, but I haven't tested them thoroughly, I just keep it safe in here...."
She swiped the cup from Tom's skeleton-like fingers and gently placed it back in its box. Hepzibah spent a few moments trying to get the cup back into its original position, obsessing a bit on having it be in the exact same spot it was before she took it out. A few moments she should've been looking at Tom. He had a cold, icy glare as he watched her. A dark look that he managed to suppress, as Hepzibah looked up from the cup. It was finally in a position she was content with.
"Now then," she smiled, looking around wildly for something else. "Where's Hokey? Oh yes, there you are—take that away now, Hokey."
He watched silently as the small elf took away the first treasure. Hepzibah, however, was moving onto the second box and Tom turned back to it with curiosity. This second box was smaller and much flatter, but whatever was in there was surely not to disappoint.
"I think you'll like this even more, Tom," Hepzibah whispered. "Lean in a little dear boy so you can see—Of course, Burke knows I've got this one, I bought it from him, and I daresay he'd love to get it back when I'm gone...."
She flicked open the clasp and lifted the lid of the box open. There amongst the scarlet velvet was a heavy gold locket. It was the same one he and Frankie had seen that one day in Borgin and Burkes. That woman they'd almost knocked over in their haste to leave was a much younger Hepzibah. He might not have recognized the locket if it hadn't been for Frankie's letter. However, this time he noticed something new, something that he hadn't noticed the first time. On the front was a slithering serpent in the shape of an S.
"Slytherin's mark." Tom whispered, taking it from the box and shining it up to the light.
"That's right!" she smiled happily, at the sight of him gazing at her treasure with such a mesmerized look. "I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I couldn't let it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection. Burke bought it, apparently, from a ragged-looking woman who seemed to have stolen it, but had no idea of its true value—"
Tom knew in an instant that she was talking about his mother and his eyes flashed scarlet in anger at her words about her. How dare she insinuate his mother was a thief? Although, he could recall his uncle had said something of the same sort. "Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?" At the time he didn't know what to make of it. Tom was just so angry at him, for talking so ill of her. It was what partly made Tom, strike him down and frame him for the murder of the Riddles. It's also what made him respect her and start protecting her in death, for she was not to blame. It was his father and his grandfather and his uncle. They were the real monsters. "Dishonored us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit. . . It's over. . ."
"—I daresay Burke paid her a pittance, but there you are...Pretty, isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe..." she went on saying.
What a foolish thing to do...
If Slytherin's Locket belonged to him, like it should have, he wouldn't let it waste away in a box collecting dust, that's for sure. She suddenly reached out for the locket and of course he didn't want to let it go. It was his mother's last and only keepsake. His ancestor's locket. It was practically already bound to his soul. However, he let it slip through his fingers as the second treasure was taken from him.
"So, there you are, Tom, dear, and I hoped you enjoyed that!"
He had enjoyed it all too much and, now that the treasures were taken away, he held a bright red gaze. The gaze of anger and desire.
"Are you all right, dear?" she asked, her foolish smile faltering.
"Oh, yes," Tom answered, weakly. "Yes, I'm very well..."
"I thought—but a trick of the light, I suppose—" Hepzibah laughed, nervously. "Here, Hokey, take these away and lock them up again...The usual enchantments..."
"I really must be off now." he said, hastily. His desires were beginning to show a little too much. It was time to withdrawal for the day. Tom could've always killed her right then and there, but the risks seemed to be running too high. He needed to bide his time, think and strategize a little beforehand, or else he would definitely slip up. He couldn't afford to make mistakes with two possible Horcruxes on the line.
"Aw, that's too bad. Can't you stay just a little longer?" Hepzibah pouted.
"As much as I would like too, Mr. Burke wants me to get back to my duties as a shopkeeper." Tom answered.
"Alright then, until next time." she smiled, giving him a small wave goodbye.
"Until next time, Ms. Smith..." he whispered, making too much of a rush for the door not to be somewhat conspicuous. Tom looked to be somewhat excited and full of so much more life then he had been earlier .
This was it! It was just too perfect, two birds with one stone. He hadn't seen any such object that had intrigued him in such a while. The significance that they held was exquisite. They would be the perfect things to make Horcruxes out of. He still needed four more. A nightmare from long ago had told him seven was the number he needed to strive for if he ever wanted to become immortal. Such an invincible, unbreakable number of Horcruxes, nothing and no one could stop him.
*~*~*
Tom didn't get much time to plan Hepzibah's impending murder, before he had to meet up with Ellyn and Peter at the Leaky Cauldron. He was instantly greeted by the other Tom and a hearty round of cheers from clearly drunk men who didn't have a clue who he was. Tom searched the room for his friends, when his heart nearly stopped. There she was. Frankie sat in a booth across from Ellyn and Peter, laughing and casually sipping on a fresh mug of Butterbeer. She glanced up at the round of cheers Tom received upon entry and finally he managed to catch her eye. Frankie smiled back, but didn't get up from her spot to greet him. Tom tried not to move so desperately as he shoved his way through the crowd of people between them. Although, he told himself that waiting to see her until he'd actually achieved his goal was for the best, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with a warm comforting feeling just by seeing her image. He was certain she was real, but just to make sure, he practically ran straight for a kiss. Even if he ended up making out with the air and heavily embarrassed, the opportunity was too good to possibly pass up. Thankfully, she was still there when he pulled away.
"Hi." she smiled, just managing to control a fit of laughter brought on by his sudden attack. Although, they were supposed to be a little older and much more mature people, she couldn't help a youthful swell in her heart that instantly uplifted her spirits.
"Hi..." he repeated, with almost a smile on his face as well. Tom scooted into the seat beside her and grabbed her free hand. "I can't believe you're here."
"I invited her after all your pouting yesterday. It's just that easy, Tom." Peter interjected. Tom scowled and was instantly brought away from his little bubble of happiness. He didn't want to admit that his friend was right. It seemed like getting her out of the castle was easier a task than he'd previously thought it to be.
"What about your work? Aren't you too busy to be popping off to London on the fly like this?" Tom reasoned at Frankie. Surely, she would back up the claim that she posed often in her letters about how she was an indispensable personnel up at the school.
"I escaped for the evening. I can use the Floo and be back by tomorrow. Dumbledore won't be none the wiser and Abe won't fib on me for using his fireplace." Frankie explained. Tom couldn't help but glare at the simplicity. Two years just wasted. "Peter said you needed me, and I missed you."
"He was exaggerating." Tom added, promptly. He didn't know why it was still a reflex to put a damper on his own feelings and lie. Despite the amount of time, she could still clearly tell when he was lying. "But only a little bit..."
"Shall we get you something to drink then, Tom?" Ellyn asked, suddenly. It was clear she wanted to give the two a minute alone with each other. Peter thankfully got the hint as well and they both shuffled out of the booth.
"Sure—anything is fine with me." Tom replied. The second they turned to leave for the bar, Tom dropped her hand and wrapped his arms around her waist. It may have been a bit clingy, but he could not help wanting to feel connected to her after their time apart.
"So, where have you been? I stopped by the shop, hoping to catch you sooner, but you weren't there..." Frankie inquired, seemingly oblivious to his strong desires for further intimacy. Tom was caught a little off guard by her question. Surely this was a subject that could've been posed in front of the others.
"You really must stop that. It's incredibly dangerous and you're not sneaky." Tom sighed. Although, naturally he wanted to set up more opportunities for her to come back, it was still a bad idea to have her meet with him in Knockturn Alley. "I was visiting a client today."
"Do you often make house calls?"
"No. It was a very difficult client, so Mr. Burke sent me there to try and barter."
"What's the item?" she asked, curiously.
"Some goblin-made armor." he answered, simply. Tom hesitated on telling her all the other treasures he'd been shown during his visit. If he told her the information, there would be a higher risk of being caught when Hepzibah Smith was inevitably murdered. But, he also considered that he might as well start sharing some of these secrets with her, so the Horcruxes wouldn't completely catch her off guard in the future. Perhaps, a slow build to the truth would be best. "However, I found something far more interesting..."
"Oh? What else is there?"
"That locket you wrote about in your letter—It's Slytherin's Locket. Mr. Burke sold it to that woman we ran down while we were leaving." Tom explained.
"It was a founder's item? Frankie gasped. Of course, being the only heir with a solid link to her ancestor's magical object, this came as rather surprising news to think that the others could easily be bought and sold in a place like Borgin and Burkes, "What on earth was Mr. Burke doing with something like that?"
"Apparently, my mother sold it to him. I'm not sure exactly why she did it though. Burke didn't pay her nearly enough..."
"So, will you buy it back then?"
"Something like that." Tom mumbled. He hadn't even thought of trying to obtain the items honorably and legally. It couldn't be as simple as just making the old woman an offer. It would never work. She was rather fond of him, but not enough to actually sell him such valuable treasures. Also, he certainly didn't have the funds to spare. Stealing them wouldn't work either. Burke was a decent enough fallback, but he'd surely take Tom down with him. Tom could think of no other way. He had to kill Hepzibah. He clearly didn't have the time to waste trying to do things properly. The longer he stayed in Frankie's presence, the more he desired to claim a future with her. "I have to get it back no matter what the cost..."
"Alright, here we are then—" Ellyn and Peter returned with more drinks. They'd probably given them a few extra minutes, but they hadn't really been able to get to any serious conversations. It was highly likely they might've even been expecting a proposal to have happened in their absence. Since no one knew he was literally ripping his soul to pieces, it didn't make sense to anyone else why Tom was holding back on a simple proposal of marriage to a girl he was clearly fond of. "Did we miss anything? What have you two been chatting about?"
"Tom was just telling me about his job..." Frankie replied. Tom thought for a moment she might tell them all that he'd confessed to her. However, she smiled and assured his motives would remain secret with her. "—He looks rather handsome in a suit, doesn't he? Too bad, he's been playing dress up for some old bat while I've been busy at school."
"Has Mr. Burke been prostituting you out to older woman? You neglected to mention that when we talked at the shop." Peter asked, barely able to suppress a violent fit of laughter.
"No!" Tom snapped back, immediately. Although, clearly it was a joke, he obviously didn't want to risk it being attached to his reputation. If Burke somehow heard the gossip, he'd actually consider making it a part of Tom's job.
"Clearly, I arrived just in the nick of time. I was this close to losing my man. He's horribly unfaithful, isn't he?" Frankie laughed. "I really ought to go down to the shop and give that Mr. Burke a piece of my mind."
"Alright, idiot—last time I checked Butterbeer is a nonalcoholic beverage. How'd you get so drunk and loopy?"
It was a fun evening. The first good night that Tom had in a long time. He forgot what it was like to not be constantly thinking about the quest for Horcruxes and just live for a moment without being consumed with so much purpose. Ellyn and Peter gave insight on the Ministry, but Tom wasn't concerned with filing away any of the information. It was just nice to hear about their positions and the gossip about their old classmates. The other boys were doing fine, but Malfoy was certainly getting himself into trouble. He recently got caught in a compromising position with the Minister's assistant. A woman who was not his fiancée. Meanwhile, Frankie was curious as to what Lyra was up to nowadays, seeing that she somehow managed to escape a marriage to Malfoy. According to Ellyn, she had transferred to the Paris administration without much notice to anyone. The mothers occasionally gave updates, but overall it looked like she was intent on leaving everything behind her. Tom reckoned she might be happier there and surprisingly felt very little animosity towards her as she tried to restart her life.
Inevitably, the Leaky Cauldron had to close, and they had to conclude their gathering. They all said their goodbyes and parted ways again, with insistences that they would do another meetup soon. Barkeep Tom had given Frankie a room upstairs for the evening, so she wouldn't have to travel so immediately and late at night. As the other Tom also said his goodnights to them, Tom followed Frankie up the stairs. Hopefully, he would not process that Tom hadn't requested room accommodations. Tom was finally looking forward to a true minute alone, but of course he should've figured he might not be so lucky. Twilit sat at the window sill, dozing slightly off. His wide eyes opened immediately at the sound of the door, and he soared straight to them.
"Twilit, there's no perch for you here. Go back to my room at the shop!" Tom snarled, threateningly. How Twilit wasn't frightened of Tom was a complete and utter mystery. He caught him and brought him back over to the window. "Come on! Be reasonable, you dumb bird. I haven't seen Frankie in a very long time."
"Oh, he won't be much trouble, Tom. Let him stay." Frankie smiled, with a bit of an amused laugh.
"You're a troublesome son." Tom concluded, as he finally shut the window.
Unlike with a planned night away, neither of them had any sundries available for normal nighttime rituals, so there was just the matter of undressing and getting to bed. Frankie made no show of it and Tom pretended not to be so interested. He tried setting Twilit on the desk, but the owl was quite insistent of sleeping near them and settled on the space just above Tom's head. While it was abundantly clear nothing too intimate would be happening, Tom found that he really didn't care. It was still a million times better than going back to his room at Borgin and Burkes, alone. Frankie drifted off rather quickly, however, Tom didn't want to risk closing his eyes and discovering that he might be dreaming. It wouldn't be the first time and probably wouldn't be the last. Eventually, he fell asleep too and for a blissful moment everything was quiet.
Tom was abruptly awoken by her attempts to successfully remove him next morning. He'd been coiled so tightly around her, it was impossible not to have roused him in the process. Frankie was hastily dressing and looking at the clock on dresser. She had accidentally slept past breakfast and would now be notably absent.
"Do you really have to leave again?" he asked her, making no attempts to leave himself, even though Burke would definitely reprimand him for being late. There was also still a snoozing owl practically on his head that he needed to support.
"I guess that depends on you, Tom." she reasoned, stopping the rapid buttoning of her blouse for a moment.
"I want to continue to have you by my side..." Tom replied, softly. However, his problems remained the same as they were two years ago. He was still four Horcruxes short of immortality and he couldn't put that quest on the backburner for any more than a single night. He had to see it through and hope she would still be willing to be his bride when he was done. "...but I still have important work to do here first."
He sat up to face her properly and of course Twilit came crashing down. Thankfully, the mood was severely lightened. Frankie sat beside him and kissed his cheek.
"Call on me then. Even if it's only for a few hours, or your even just a horrific burning head in my fireplace. I don't care." Frankie smiled. She hugged him tightly, hiding her disappointed expression. She didn't want to leave again. It was clear she'd come there, hoping they could make new arrangements.
"I'm sorry that it's taking so long." he mumbled, burying his face into her neck. "I still meant what I said though. The only future—"
"—is our future."
*~*~*
Despite the fact that seeing Frankie should've weakened his resolve to make more Horcruxes, as it often did in his youth, it actually had the opposite effect. It renewed his resolve to get the job done as fast as possible. So, Hepzibah Smith died a few days later. The cause of death, according to the Daily Prophet, was Hokey poisoning her afternoon cup of tea. That was a real laugh. Meanwhile, Tom was stuffing a shiny gold cup and locket next to his silver tiara and old diary into a small bag with an Undetectable Extension charm on it. He really did need to find a place to hide these things, several places, in fact. Besides the fact Mr. Burke would kill him if he knew Tom possessed any of these items, except his diary, keeping them all in one place would be careless. But, for now, he had no choice but to keep them hidden in the bag and pray Burke didn't find them.
Now, it was time for him to return to his stool, sit, and try to write to Frankie without mentioning absolutely anything about how he was feeling or doing. She left Twilit and ordered for him to write a reply to her, regardless of the fact they'd just seen one another. It was quite a hard thing to do, considering he had just gotten away with murdering someone yet again. But, Tom somehow managed to compose a short simple letter to her, talking mostly of how lovely it was to see her and how she should come back as soon as the next week. He added a couple of stories of odd things that had happened to him while he was working to try and spice it up a little. He eventually deemed it acceptable and gave it to Twilit. The owl took off and he couldn't help but feel the same brand of loneliness he'd felt that summer he'd spent in Little Hangleton. He wanted more than anything to see her again.
Tom had cut down the amount of time considerably at least. Now, he only needed two more Horcruxes. Making the cup a Horcrux with Hepzibah as his victim and the locket with some muggle tramp he found fool enough to be wandering the streets that night. Just two more. The physical strain had gotten worse making two at once, but since Burke got his goblin-made armor as well as some other juicy trinkets, he let Tom take a few days off. While he would've loved to use that free time to see Frankie again, Tom needed to rest. He spent his luxurious time off hacking and cold-sweating in bed. It felt different having five Horcruxes, like something inside him had changed. He felt even weaker than he had ever felt before and, for a brief moment, he was even worried he had pushed it too far. The nightmares were endless. The other pieces of his soul had come to call, like they had after his first death. However, this time they did not warn him or condemn him. They merely stood watching as he lay feebly on the ground in pure agony.
Then, something miraculous occurred. Rather than staying bedridden for weeks, like he had when he was younger, Tom came back from the strain mere days later. It was odd. Abnormally odd. In fact, he felt better than he ever had before. He felt stronger, more powerful, maybe even a little more invincible. It was also shocking and maybe even a little bit frightening to him. It was proof that he was becoming altered and the Horcruxes were working on him. He was turning into something else.