Splitting One's Soul

Osterley

"Did you steal it?"

"Of course not," Tom answered. "That would be highly idiotic of me."

Some tension fell from you, that thought had been worming its way into your brain ever since you left the ball and it hasn't stopped bothering you.

"People would know it was me once it's on display in the shop," he continued.

"That's the problem and not stealing from others in itself?," you asked slightly amused.

"It goes without saying that one shouldn't steal."

"It was a joke."

"I was merely clarifying, I don't want you to think badly of me."

That took you off guard. It shouldn't, the way he acted around pretty much everyone made it abundantly clear that he wanted to be liked and admired, especially working with you it only made sense that it matters what you thought of him and yet it made you feel warm and special in a way.

"I would never," you replied.

"Never?" His eyes were fixed onto you, giving you an uneasy feeling, as if he was going to read your mind.

"Never," you confirmed. "Well, there are some exceptions but I have yet to meet someone running around killing people, you should be fine."

The satisfied smile on his face always made him look even more handsome and sometimes you caught yourself fantasizing about kissing him but he never quite returned the flirting.

After having returned from Wigtown and getting your payment the next day already, you had decided to look for a more permanent place in London, as nice as The Leaky Cauldron was, it was an inn and no home. This was your last evening here and Tom was so kind to invite you to dinner to go through some details for the next assignment.

"Where do you live?," you asked while Tom was straightening parchment out on the table.

"London," he replied without looking up from the papers, his eyes were scanning the text on it.

"London is big, you're not going to tell me?"

"Our next target is in Whitby, they are selling an assortment of poisons Mr. Borgin wants to get his hands on. Once we return I will show you where I live."

You couldn't decide whether the smile on his lips was reassuring or if he was toying with you. The latter might just be a wrong assumption, ever since that dance your brain read way too much into every little bit he did, things he'd say and the way he looked at you, that smile. Constantly you had to remind yourself that he was merely a friendly and professional person.

"I would like that," you said, suppressing the excitement in your voice.

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The next day you did not only go to Whitby but to two other towns as well, all three assignments were errands for the shop, each taking no more than an hour, and each time you apparated your stomach felt worse. By the time you arrived back in rainy London in the evening you were unable to hide it anymore, the feeling of being crushed while the world kept spinning around you didn't stop even after you arrived on solid ground in Knockturn Alley. You dropped onto the wet stone ground, closing your eyes and hands holding your head. A crunch coming from your left caused a ringing in your ear, then Tom was kneeling next to you, pulling your hands away from your head. Slowly you peeled open your eyes, two Toms were staring at you with knitted eyebrows.

"What happened?," he asked, looking you up and down, searching for any hint of as to what caused your breakdown.

"Apparition," you muttered.