To an Unsolicited Mind [t.r]

4. Forbidden Fruit

September 1945
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The last weekend of August had been painstakingly busy due to Hogwarts starting up again. Note, Borgin and Burkes wasn't exactly a pit stop for students looking for supplies. However, many used the trip to Diagon Alley as an excuse to venture their way down to view matters of the dark arts. Most notably pureblood aristocrats.

The hectic schedule put his scheming plans to get Chiara fired to a halt. Though the time between had been expanding nonetheless after their lunch, perhaps she wasn't as insufferable as he thought. She still gave him the inkling of a headache, though.

"Apple?"

That was her version of 'good morning' and it greeted him every day.

Tom hadn't had breakfast, he usually didn't, but he had also skipped out on dinner the night prior. He was so close to finding the owner of a supposed Hogwarts founders object, he wasn't sure which it could be. But with hours of pouring over books and records, he narrowed it down to either Ravenclaw's diadem or Hufflepuff's cup. He was leaning towards the latter, seeing as most rumors suggested the diadem was in Albania. Though it hadn't been seen for centuries.

Begrudgingly, he finally accepted her offer.

Chiara's brows raised in surprise when he nodded once and she happily handed the apple over. When she continued to stare at him however, Tom considered chucking the fruit in the bin just to spite her.

"Right, Sorry."

The stubborn part of himself waited as she started to get busy with her duties, which was currently just doing light cleaning.

Holding up the apple, he turned it slowly and observed how the light hit the smooth skin. It almost seemed too perfect. His brows then furrowed and he brought out his wand, running a few test to make sure Chiara hadn't meddled with it in any way. Who knows, perhaps she wanted to get back at him for the maggots? Though, Tom was mostly sure she hadn't put two and two together.

Not yet, anyway.

Then again, how would she even know he would finally accept her offer that day? Merlin, he was overthinking this wasn't he? Shaking his head, he focused on the golden sheen again for a moment before sniffing it.

It smelt ordinary, nothing special though there was a hint of more sweetness.

"Just eat the damn apple," Chiara chimed from across the store, the suddenness of her voice snapping him out of his thoughts. He glared at her despite the fact she was now out of his view, bent down as she cleaned the lower shelves near the windows.

He turned it in his hand a few more times, trying to find a decent point to bite into it. Tom felt ridiculous for dragging this out, but he had little trust for things handed to him. Sighing, he bit into the apple, the crisp sound of his teeth tearing through the skin echoing out.

It must of been enchanted because it was the best damned fruit he had ever tasted.

Tom didn't vocalize that of course, but he caught Chiara smiling at him, and with that glint in her eye he knew she could tell.

"See what you've been missing out on?" Her voice was light and airy, dancing around the room and in between artefacts. He swallowed as he shook his head, "don't get smug. This could be laced with an untraceable poison for all I know. You're like Eve, this could be the beginning of my fall." He was being dramatic, and besides he doubted she was skilled enough to lace it that well.

Chiara shrugged, enjoying her moment of providing Tom with some sense of happiness. "Perhaps, but if that's the case you'll gain important knowledge in the process." Maybe it was just the way she was raised, but when she made someone's mood lift just the slightest it made her heart feel a little lighter.

And if she was able to move someone like Tom, even just a little, with an apple of all things, it was worth it.

She also believed in a higher power, whether that was simply the universe or an actual being. There was a gut feeling that perhaps her and Tom were always meant to meet, to balance each other out. A dyad. Tom sought to bring the worst out in people, while vise versa Chiara sought to bring out the best. She would even settle for just a sliver of light, a crack in his brooding exterior.

Destined or not, the atmosphere around them felt right. She'd never tell Tom this, he'd laugh at her like she was some dreamy eyed child. As she thought about it though, what did Tom believe in? Did he believe in anything at all?

Chiara felt like he had to.

A man with such a drive as his had to have a core rooted in something. Whether it be in scripture or dogma, the power of belief is what drove the human race. Even the simplest of things like believing in tomorrow.

The desperation to ask hit her like a train on a track, but she bit her tongue and continued to work. Perhaps sometime down the line, she'd be in a position where they were comfortable enough to ask such questions. After all, she didn't even know him.

Not really, but she wanted to.

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