To an Unsolicited Mind [t.r]

6. Improbable

November 1945
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Conversation came more easily between them, which Chiara was thankful for though six months working up to this point seemed a bit tedious. Admittedly, she wasn't surprised.

In the months that she'd been employed at Borgin & Burkes, she observed Tom and reached a conclusion; he had a chameleon character. Meaning he would adapt his personality as he saw fit to his surroundings. Though Tom would never stoop so low and make himself appear any less intelligent. His ego couldn't bare it.

Tom had returned the favor and observed her as well, albeit he was by far more subtle. He had picked up on her mannerisms relatively quickly. When she was nervous, she'd wring her hands. If she was excited, she'd do a small spin. Frustrated, her nose would twitch and she'd scuff at the floor with her right foot.

When in thought, she'd bite at her lip. He didn't understand why, but that always drew his attention the most.

"Apple?" She didn't wait for his response as she tossed the fruit at him, and on instinct he caught it easily with one hand before biting into it. The sweetness danced over his tongue as his eyes poured over the yellowed pages of a book, doing more research on Hufflepuff's cup. That's all he had been doing lately in his free time.

One afternoon, Chiara had just finished two stacks of paperwork when Tom came down the stairs, two cups in his hands that had steam billowing from the rims. The smell of tea greeted her nose and she closed her eyes for a moment, simply enjoying the scent.

The sound of a cup being set down caused her to open her eyes, and looking down there it sat, the brownish liquid glinting at her in the candlelight. Looking up, Tom was nearly back up the steps and she frowned.

"Why eager to leave so soon?"

He paused and turned on his heel, inclining his head down in order to view her. "I was under the impression you despised my company."

Chiara waved her hand and let an easy smile fall on her lips as she picked up the cup, blowing the steam away lightly before taking a sip. "Oh no, I love your crude comments and glares."

Making his way back down the steps, Tom tsk-d, "careful now, or else I might start acting like a gentleman just to spite you." He pulled out a chair and sat across from her, crossing his legs at the ankle and leaned back leisurely. His eyes danced over her makeshift desk, which was really just a wooden slab on four pegs. She didn't seem to mind though.

Papers littered the surface and she had notes stuck in various places. Her handwriting was a jumble of makeshift cursive, probably due to her never picking up the quill in order to save time. Mr. Burke had her doing all the shops' finances, seeing as he was too lazy to do anything himself. Besides write the paychecks, that is. He would entrust that to no one.

"You went to Hogwarts, right?"

Chiara's voice brought him back to his surroundings, and after taking a generous sip of his tea he nodded. She set her own cup down and leaned forward, curiosity already glinting in her eyes as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "Tell me about it, I've heard wonderful things about the place."

Tom pondered for a moment as memories of his school years flashed in his mind, both good and bad. "It's wonderful, the first time you lay your eyes on the castle is at night. First years take the boats across the Great Lake, the castle shimmers like a giant in the distance."

She noted how his voice had taken on a more dream like quality, indicating his mind was elsewhere. His features had also relaxed into a more natural expression, he looked comfortable. Young.

"And when you walk inside the Great Hall, the ceiling is enchanted to look either like the sky during the day, or the cosmos at night. It's beautiful. When I was younger, during dinners, I thought maybe just one day I'd get lucky and a star would fall into my lap."

There was an absentminded smile on his face, he only registered it when he noticed Chiara looking at his mouth. Shaking his head, he sat up a bit and took another drink of his tea. "Not much went on, there was an incident fifth year concerning another student, but that was resolved. By me of course."

Chiara rolled her eyes but her lips were still tugged into a grin nonetheless.

He couldn't ignore his arrogance, so of course he went on, listing his achievements and how he was the most gifted wizard to walk the halls since the great Salazar Slytherin. "And," he finished off, "I was head boy and graduated top of my class."

When she snorted, Tom raised a brow, not liking the lack of an impressed reaction from her.

"If you're some genio, what are you doing in a place like this?"

He mulled it over for a moment, though the question wasn't new to him. To say his peers and professors were shocked at his lack of a Ministry job would be an understatement. Especially Slughorn, the professor nearly wept when he realized his prize pupil wouldn't be running for Minister of Magic anytime soon.

"Call me an entrepreneur."

She hummed in thought and tilted her head. Tom could see the gears turning behind her eyes. "Seems a bit reckless to me, you'd be better off in the Ministry."

A dry chuckle escaped him, "if I had a galleon for every time I've heard that."

Digging in her pocket, she tossed the golden coin at him with a playful air about her. Tom caught the shining piece of currency and twisted it in his fingers for a moment, letting the cool material seep into his skin before placing it in his own pocket.

"Entrepreneur for what exactly?"

He mulled it over for a moment, he couldn't very well tell her his ultimate goal in life was to overcome death. Tom felt that would raise too many questions, one doesn't often strive after immortality. Especially through the means of dark magic, magic society hadn't even dared to meddle with. Running his tongue along the inside of his cheek, his coffee dark eyes glowed in the candlelight as he looked at her. They nearly looked red for the briefest of moments.

"The impossible."

"Oh, I don't like that word."

He tilted his head in question and watched as she brought the rim of the tea cup up to her lips, watching as they formed her next words.

"I prefer improbable."

Tom found himself smiling, the amount of times he'd done so lately felt unnatural. Yet Chiara had found a way to lure them out.

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