For the Greater Good || Tom Riddle ||

Chapter Sixteen: Sentiments

The inside of the bookstore featured dark wood and eggshell ceilings. The walls were almost completely stuffed to the brim with books, scrolls, and files. The shutter windows provided some natural light, but for the most part, the tall shelves blocked out any sunbeams. Thick wrought iron sconces hung where there was available space, holding orange and clove scented candles in their cups. Even with the pleasant citrus aroma, the smell of the dust and carpet permeated the air; it was actually a comforting scent, homey and astute all at the same time.

A small bell attached to the door alerted the bookkeeper to Gwen's presence. The light hum of music reached her ears gently as soon as she walked in, like the caress of lukewarm water on frigid digits—soothing and silky, but barely there.

"That old black magic has me in its spell,
That old black magic that you weave so well,
Icy fingers up and down my spine,
The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine."

She had never heard the soft song before, but the slow melody had a heady quality. There was a very faint static from the radio that accompanied the tune, but it only added to its charm. Gwen nodded at the old woman and the woman gave her a small smile. 

Inside, Tomes and Scrolls was much bigger than appeared from the street. The walls were tall and there was even a second story. Large, oriental carpets with intricate designs covered the floor. Gwen spotted a small black cat curled up on one of the Ikat patterned chairs next to the little fireplace that was nestled in the corner. A ball of yarn was at its feet.

Gwen silently walked down the aisle of books, running her fingertips along their spines. Titles such as The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus and Death Omens: What to do When You Know the Worst is Coming caught her eye. It made her think back to her conversation with Inigo Imago, but as a shiver started to shimmy up her neck, she quickly made herself bury the thought.

Now, if I was Tom Marvolo Riddle, where would I be?

The forbidden was alluring, tempting even. And nothing was of greater temptation than the Dark Arts in the eyes of Tom Riddle. Gwen guessed she would find him in the section dedicated to Dark Magic. However, as she navigated herself through the labyrinth of books, she was extremely surprised to find the aisle empty.

Her eyes darted to the second floor.

Steadily, she strode slowly up the creaking steps, careful to avoid the heavy ruby-colored carpet that sat atop the wooden floorboards. Running her hand up the banister, Gwen felt like the muggle princess that had been spurred by magic to prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel. A strange energy pulled her upward and propelled her feet forward, and she knew instantly that Tom was up there. But halfway up the stairs, a small furry body scampered up the steps, threatening to get underfoot. Gwen paused to find the little black cat with bright golden eyes staring up at her as it rubbed against her calf.

"Hello."

There was, of course, no reply.

Gwen picked the little creature up and cradled it against her chest. The cat immediately began to purr. A smile crept over her lips as she pat the little thing between its ears as she walked the rest of the way up.

"Have you found yourself a familiar?"

Gwen felt tingles spread throughout her body at the sound of the heavy, even voice. She did not see him at first as he was off to her right, half hidden by a bookcase.

Eventually, she spotted him. He was wearing his black coat, grey slacks, and casual loafers. On his pinky finger, the Resurrection Stone glinted and teased her. A smirk danced at his lips. He leaned against the side of the bookcase with style and grace as he stared down at her.