Coffee?
𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝑮𝒐𝒅, 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏.
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Feeling jaded, I rifled through the box of drop-offs that were left on the shop doorstep. It wasn't a very big box, nor full with a lot of things but amongst all the tat and underwhelming tatter, I found a deck of cards.
They came embellished and nourished with gold and black detail, all wrapped tightly in a little string bow. Just touching the cards had me feel the dark magic brewing within. Someone had clearly had a bad experience with this cursed deck and thought the only sensical thing to do was to leave them here outside of Borgin and Burkes.
"Anything impressive in there Riddle?" Mr Burke asked out, a microscopic lens held to his eye and a jar of conspicuous looking liquid. "These."
Holding them up, I watched as his attention wandered to my hands briefly and then back to his own task.
"Throw them away, no good."
"But, they look as though-"
"I said throw them away boy, no good!!"
He'd always been far more snappy and standoffish than Mr Borgin, and I can't wait for the day that I get to kill him for it. His thirst for wealth was unmatched, until my thirst for power came along unbeknownst to him. "Yeah whatever, fine."
An uninterested grunt sounded from him and the discussion was over. But I couldn't help but feel that this would be an opportunity missed and that I'd be able to find a use for such a thing. So I slipped it in to my pocket and turfed the box aside. I don't enjoy this job and never have, it's just a front for me to remain unsuspicious as I bring the pieces of my master plan together.
"Home, no good, try again tomorrow."
I'll add that Mr Burke had a habit of talking in solitary words most of the time. Just another thing to add to the list of things that I despise.
And it's a very long list.
But, that thought would have to linger for now as I was dismissed. The day was rainy and overcast, even more so for being situated in Knockturn alley. Where the freaks and creeps come to gather and collect their questionable supplies.
And then of course you have Diagon Alley. The cheerful hustle and bustle makes me sick, everyone greets you jovially and eagerly. The scent of sweets and chocolate permeate through the air like it's Christmas every day.
Only grower stronger with each footstep I took up the steps, leaving the harsh ringing of Borgin and Burke's behind me. The street is decorated with lights that hung from poles and stretched from lamppost to lamppost, a celebration of the Winter solstice.
Parent's walk hand in hand with their children, laughing and cheering. Men in their suits, looking grand and well kept. That's the only good thing about the 1940's, dress sense seems to have improved although I doubt it'll last long. Nothing rational in the wizarding world ever does.
I'm bumped and pushed past as I make my way over the cobblestones, surrounded by people who have no idea that they will be my servants in good time. Never again will I be bumped and pushed, nor dismissed.
It was only when I came to Wizeacre's did I find myself become interested in something other than the sound of my own footsteps.
Rose Ramiro.
She goes about her business effortlessly, counting stock and sweeping floors. Her eyes are dark like a pair of hematite crystals, serving as guarded windows to her soul. Not so guarded that I wasn't able to see in to them though.
And her hair was much the same, a deep and dark shade of chocolate that almost matched my own. If she was going to hide secrets, it could very well be in her thick and pleasingly rich locks.
Stature not so slim, but neither broad either. She shuffled her frame around delicately on her feet, using a sweeping brush that would no doubt splinter her soft hands. Burrowing beneath her skin sharply and remaining there for difficulty of removing it.
That'll be just like me, a splinter, it hurts at first but then you grow complicit. Ignoring the pain because it doesn't seem that bad now, but then the wound will start to burn and slowly swell.
Within time the ability to ignore the pain will diminish and she'll begin digging and scratching at it to remove the offensive speck of wood. But it'll be futile, only pushing it further and further in to the flesh. The only way to find relief is to simply wait until it's ready to come back out again.
It was the sluggish rumble of my stomach that reminded me that I was stood as still as a statue, peering around the door way to catch a glimpse of her.
"Rosie?!" a voice called out. "It's six pm you can go home now if you like!"
"Are you sure?!" She's very humble and thoughtful. "I don't mind finishing this for you!"
Rosie, or Rose as per her true name.. would do anything to help anyone make their life easier. That is how I'll be able to exploit her so easily, it won't take much, just a little persuasion and theatrics will have her eating out of my hand like a little starling.
Born to two pureblood parent's from another Corner of the world, they came here in the 1920's and established themselves outside of the Sacred Twenty Eight. It was the perfect scenario, she's pure blooded yet lives a quiet life where others remain mostly unaware of the fact.
"I'll see you tomorrow then!" Rose skipped out of the shop and straight in to me. "Oh I'm sorry! They're just closing actually were you planning on going in?"
So sweet, unsuspecting. I smiled charmingly and shook my head. "No, just sheltering from the rain for a minute. Sorry to have gotten in your way."
"Oh don't be daft," replied Rose. "Hiding from the rain is a perfectly good excuse to huddle in a doorway. It does seem to have picked up since earlier-- Oh I know you!"
I froze for a fleeting moment, trying to read her body language. "You work just down the street, I remember on my first day you helped me to find this place."
"Oh yes, I remember. How are you getting on? Do you enjoy it?"
"Love it. Although the clientele can be atrocious sometimes but I suppose that's just part and parcel of working in a retail position."
Her cheeky giggle would be infectious to those who opened themselves to enjoy it. Although it did little to move me, I could see why some might appreciate it.
"It's alright, I'm sure you'll get used to it. But what I will warn you of is becoming so embroiled in the beauty of serving people that you forget how to serve yourself."
Rose tilted her head a little, seemingly confused by my statement. It did of course, make perfect sense to me but to her it was nothing short of preposterous. "That's where most of the fun is, seeing people leave happy and accomplished. Do you not feel the same Mr--?"
"Tom Riddle."
I held my hand out to Rose who took it without hesitation for a handshake. "Oh your hands are rather cold, how are you not shivering? And you can just call me Rose."
Pulling back she shoved her hand in to her coat pocket searching for warmth again. I'd not considered that I'd be a cold person in terms of temperature, but I never enjoyed warm weather anyway. It just made everything hot and unbearably sticky. "Do you wanna come get a coffee with me after I drop these takings in to Gringott's? I've not had any dinner yet so I was just going to grab something across the way in that little café that's just opened next to Ollivanders?"
I don't like coffee. It's bitter. "Yeah alright, I'm not in a rush. Should I meet you in there?"
"Yeah you might as well, there's no point us both going in to the bank. I'll be five minutes."
"Perfect."
I nodded her away with a strained smile, watching her awkwardly dance amongst the other shoppers. As soon as she was out of eyeline my mouth dropped back down in to a stone cold stare. As aforementioned, I hate coffee.
But that was far too easy, easier than it should of been actually. It's a wonder how she's managed to survive this long without being killed, kidnapped or something else. I'd hardly spoken more than a few words to the girl before she was drawn in by the charm and charisma.
Poor little Rosie.
The coffee shop was far too welcoming for my liking. Comfortable, warm, fresh. As alluring as the hot brew that it served. I took a table in a quiet corner and sat myself back against the chair, bringing a foot to come and rest above my knee.
"Hi, would you like any coffee?"
A young girl around our age swanned over, notepad and wand in hand; a beaming smile gracing her face. "Well I'd like to think that's why one would come in to a coffee shop. Would you not agree?"
She seemed of a fragile disposition, a little afraid to answer my arrogant and rhetorical question. "Well would you? Or am I just incurably stupid, making us a pair?"
"Well, yes. This is where people come for coffee but I'm not sure what you mean?"
"So bring me coffee then? If not I can go and get it myself but I'd hate to think that you let your customers medal with your goods. Word of that could spread like wildfire and have this place collapse in a matter of days."
"Of course not, I'll bring you a pot right away."
"Fantastic," I groaned, maybe a little more sinisterly than intended. Then the shop bell rang. Rose was a little worse for wear thanks to the abominable weather and sighed in relief as she got herself in to the dry.
"Oooh it was busier than I expected in there!"
I relaxed my posture, rolling my shoulders back and signalling to the chair opposite. "Yes, the goblin's only make for a more intimidating atmosphere too I've noticed."
"Definitely, they know how to make people feel nervous. I'm gonna order some coffee what are you having?"
Shrugging away her coat Rose didn't have time to anticipate my answer because the server had again approached. The pot and cups rattled ever so slightly as if she was shaking, and they laid down to the table haphazardly.
"Aw thank you! Can I have marmalade and toast please? Tom, sorry it is Tom isn't it? Do you want any food as well?"
"No thank you, I've eaten." My eyes fell back to the server as I smirked, only making her seem paler and paler as the seconds ticked on. She stared right back for fear of tearing away her eyes.
"Do you guys know each other?"
Rose breaking the silence had the server snap back to reality. "No sorry, toast?"
"Yes please!"
The tip of my tongue rolled over the edges of my teeth, making people frightened and then as though they're going crazy is just one of my little past times. Way more satisfying than any cup of coffee or round of toast could be.
"So, Rose, since you invited me here which I am grateful for.. why don't you tell me about yourself. I haven't seen you around much apart from our brief encounter."
"Uh.. well there isn't much to know really. I wouldn't want to bore you with nonsense, there's not much interesting that you'd want to know about me."
"Oh Rose, I'd love to get to know everything about you. I'm sure you're particularly interesting. Now I, on the other hand, have quite an underwhelming past and life."
It was a lie, but one that had Rose blush in to her mug. I wanted to know every little thing, so that I could pick holes in it and have her unravel right before my eyes.
Like leading a horse to water, the easy part was done. Now I just have to make it drink from the river, and my bet is.. that this one can't swim.