The day before Christmas, the Muggle flower shop was buzzing like a beehive.
Christmas, a holiday for humans and wizards alike, so many of them were around to get something nice for their families. At least Joey couldn't stare at your hand for too long given his shop was so cramped, so that was some awkwardness avoided.
Take it.
You shouldn't.
You stared at the bouquet, and he stared back impatiently at the shiny object you carried, something that made his expression grow more and more desperate before getting impatient.
You wrapped your hand self-consciously around the gold ring and set your jaw. "It's not for sale," you managed to say.
An honest man shouldn't be asking a considerably younger person to trade something worth far more than some plucked grass for it, and you jumped to the conclusion it was not the only time the man tried to pull it off.
Shady.
You had extracted the Gaunt's ring from the bottom of a miniature chest just big enough to store some items, like brooches, in. The chest had many unique items you didn't understand, and all seemed to range in ages.
Today was an extraordinary rare day. Tom was in deep sleep, and nothing could disturb him. At first you just meant to look at it, it was pretty. Gold. Cold to the touch. And now it was on your hand without him knowing.
You wanted another chance of obtaining something for Alyssa. To that end, you figured maybe you could somehow drain some of Tom's confidence from the band that had once been tied to Cadmus Peverell. It might give you the boost that you sought to succeed, pull off what you couldn't last time.
The relic gave you a boost, but not in the way you imagined.
Looking wasn't wrong. Like any good natured person you also wanted to avoid further drama that had taken this city by storm. Unfortunately for you you were too busy staring at that what you wanted to make the connection between the Gaunt's ring, your increasingly dark thoughts and your crumbling resistance against them.
Objects shouldn't spurge you on to commit crimes, they should just exist. They should not tempt. They shouldn't tell you to take it and get out and run. You'd never see him again and Joey had a lot of grass so he could just assemble a new bundle.
"I don't want your frilly flowers anymore." Your gaze searched around the shop then prepared to retreat to the back. The flowerist was willing to make trades for them, so you feigned disinterest and made a point of walking away so you could return later and barter some more.
You'd laugh at his mutterings if you could, genuinely amused by it. Another's negative feelings didn't usually amuse you, but they did make you giggle slightly under your breath when he cussed something at your back. The string of amusement felt so foreign to you to be knit together to make any sense of why you found it funny.
You strutted away but didn't actually leave, going to stand behind a shelf and pretending to be interested in the ceramic pots stacked on top of them. From there, you had view of what little security there was.
A newly installed alarm. Such a fickle thing wouldn't keep any dark wizards at bay. But then again-what wizard would want to waste their time in this stupid store? If not to set it on fire.
Wait—wait—stop, set it on fire? Why would you think about that? You weren't a violent person. At least, you didn't think you were—
YOU ARE READING
Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)
Fanfiction"Years ago, I met a boy who made all the wrong choices." As orphans, you and Tom Riddle have more in common than having no parental figures in your lives. One day, it turns out that you, too, can use magic, and it changes everything. For better or f...
