Means To An End || Tom Riddle Story

Four

"I may not have long to chat. I have plans this evening that I must attend to," said Tom Riddle as Abraxas Malfoy entered Borgin and Burkes, right at closing.

     "Nice to see you too, My Lord," said Malfoy as he strode over to the counter.

     Abraxas Malfoy was tall and thin. His platinum blonde hair was pushed out of his face which accentuated his pointed features. He appeared to be pleased to see Tom, as a huge grin was plastered to his face.

     "You're looking fit," said Malfoy as he looked Tom up and down.

     "You as well," said Tom, as he neatly piled some papers together on the countertop. "Marriage seems to be suiting you nicely."

     Malfoy beamed. "It's wonderful. In fact, Lysithea and I are expecting a baby in a couple of months. We just found out she's having a boy!"

     Tom did not smile nor congratulate the young man. The thought of babies and children did not resonate with him.

     "Another addition to our ranks," said Tom, "excellent."

     "Right," said Abraxas, disheartened. He quickly wiped the smile from his face. "Apologies, My Lord. I understand you would have only asked me to come if it were important. What is it you wanted to discuss?"

     Tom looked up and placed both hands on the counter, leaning forward slightly.

     "I may be one step closer to locating the locket," he said with a sigh. "Mr. Burke informed me that he sold it, many years ago to a witch and now the old codger wants it back. He's instructed me to meet with her once a week, and convince her to sell it back."

     "That's great news, My Lord," said Abraxas. "I assume after you obtain the locket you will head to Albania?"

     "That's the plan as of right now," said Tom, "but you know as well as I do that time is sensitive. Things could change between now and then, and I don't know how long it will take. In the meantime, I wanted to know how things are going within the ministry."

     Abraxas scoffed and casually meandered throughout the store, picking up a few random objects, observing them, and placing them back down.

     "Word was just released that the Minister will retire in less than two years. That Mudblood Nobby Leach is expected to be his replacement."

     Tom scowled. "That's the last fucking thing we need in this world."

     "Agreed," muttered Abraxas, as he picked up a crystal ball and rolled it in his hands carefully. "I've spoken with Avery and Lestrange and their families believe there's certain... measures we can take, in attempts to stop that from happening."

     "What measures?"

     "Well... it would be a shame if Leach mysteriously vanished... or fell ill..."

     "I see," said Tom. He did not smile. "Who would be assuming the position as Minister if that were to happen?"

     "It would be an honor to see someone such as Rosier's father, but unfortunately there's no sure way of knowing. But at least Leach would be out of the way."

     "Very well," said Tom, "Whilst I am taking care of my personal matters in Albania, I will leave you responsible for Leach. Do whatever it is you have to do to ensure we do not see his reign. If I am to return to a country of Muggle lovers I will not hesitate to kill every last one of them."

     "Of course, My Lord," said Abraxas, placing the crystal ball back down where he found it. "Anything else?"

     "Yes," mused Tom, now positioning himself in front of the counter, casually tucking his hands into his pockets. "What do you know of the name Travers?"