Into Your Gravity ( Luna Lovegood & Tom Riddle )

Chapter 11: Ecchymosis

I would like to leave this city; this old town don't smell too pretty.
And I can feel the warning signs running around my mind.
And when I leave this island, I'll book myself into a soul asylum.
I can feel the warning signs running around my mind.
So here I go, I'm still scratching around in the same old hole.
My body feels young, but my mind is very old.
Half the World Away - Aurora

So nothing's changed.
You've been lying through your teeth again, the lion's lost its mane.
You've been cornered into you can't win.
What's the point in having something if that something makes you thin?
Thin - Aquilo

•

Tom trudged down Knockturn Alley toward Borgin and Burke's alone, the violin case swinging at his side, his footsteps echoing on the cobblestones of the cold, deserted street. At some point since he had been on the Serpentine Bridge with Luna, clouds had rolled over the moon, making the night darker than it had been before. Luna's face flashed in his mind, alternating between the look she had given him after their kiss and the one she had given him after he had told her the truth, only interrupted by the face of a black-haired little girl, afraid but stubborn, throwing up her hand at him. Only when he collided with a hag shuffling down the alleyway, her sour breath fogging in his face in the cold air, did he quicken his pace, brushing off every inch of his suit the hag had touched with unconscious neuroticism as he hurried away.

It was late. The sign in the dirty window of the door was turned to Closed, but the doorknob was charmed to recognize Tom's hand. It unlocked at his touch, and he pushed the door open, making the bell overhead jingle into the depths of the shop, the sound dampened by the layer of dust on every surface. Tom shut the door behind him and stood as still as a statue for a moment just inside, allowing his thoughts to drift away again, adding one more shadowy shape in the dark amongst the clutter of the shop's wares.

"That you, boy?"

Burke's voice startled Tom out of his mind once more, and he pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos." The light from Tom's wand cast strange shadows on his employer emerging from the darkness behind the counter, somehow looking even greasier than usual in faded, blue-striped silk pajamas.

"Of course it's me," Tom answered in a haughty voice, hopeful Burke hadn't been able to see the look on his face in the dark when he'd been lost in thought, unguarded. He'd had enough of being transparent for one day. "If anyone else tried to get past the curses on the door, you would know it."

"Well, what are you doing standing in the dark for? And what took you so damn long? That bloody concert was over ages ago," Burke said, crossing the distance between he and Tom, shuffling into the wandlight. "Bloody hell, what happened to your face?" he asked as he squinted at the dried blood smeared across Tom's upper lip. Without waiting for any response, he turned his gaze with greed at Tom and said, "Did you get it?"

Tom pushed the violin case into Burke's chest, overcome with a sudden desire to be rid of the thing, then rubbed at the dried blood on his face with the back of his hand. "Naturally. Mendes is an imbecile; I can't believe he's been able to outsmart you all these years." He knew he shouldn't antagonize Burke, not so long as he still desired to be employed at the shop, but he was feeling reckless and hostile.

Burke's full attention was on the violin, however, and he ignored Tom's jab. "Yes!" the older man breathed with something like lust, followed by a cackle. "Let's have a look at it, shall we?"