RIDDLES PROPERTY

chapter 45

Knockturn Alley was bustling with odd people. Emelia had arrived at 2:58, almost right on time. Everyone was staring at her. They could sense the fact she didn't belong especially with a child. The ride was rough because of the bumps on the ground. Ophelia cried out every so often since her pacifier would fall out. They finally reached and the door swung open upon arrival.

"He's expecting you." said a hoarse voice.

Emelia was nervous, but entered. Borgin and Burkes seemed so dreary even in Knockturn Alley. She stood inside and waited.

"You made it." said a voice coming from the dark.

"It seems as if I had no choice, Tom."

"There is always a choice. It's whether or not you have the guts to make it."

"Come out of the dark." she coaxed.

Tom was hesitant, but came out from behind the ill-lit cash register. He looked at the carriage and his hand reached towards to see Ophelia. She let out a cry when he touched her and Emelia backed up.

"She's scared of me." he noted.

"I wonder why..." she said sarcastically.

"Stay for a bit."

"I can't. I'll stay for 1 more hour, if even that, then I'm leaving with Ophelia."

"You cause me a lot of pain."

'Sarcasm...every lie has a hint of the truth.' she thought.

"Stay for lunch, it's the least I could offer." he said.

"Already had some, Tom."

"That's not my name."

His tone was dead serious and then his face flickered a horrid image, but went back to the way it was.

"What?"

"Nothing, I didn't say anything."

He led her to the table where it was casting shadows.

"Can I hold her?"

She looked between the two and nodded, slowly. Tom went to pick up the child, but she'd started crying. He seemed horrified. Emelia rushed over and put a pacifier to quiet her.

"Used to this, I assume?"

"It gets easier when you're the only one who has to do it."

Tom raised an eyebrow and held Ophelia. He inspected her face. She barely resembled Fred and took over a lot of Emelia's traits. There was one thing Tom noticed.

Her eyes.

Tom's eyes were never one color. They were always shifting from dark green to dark brown to black. If someone was to stare at him for too long they'd notice. He saw the same feature in Ophelia.

"Why're you the only one who has to take care of her?" he asked.

"Fred's always at work."

"Normal people don't work for that long nor do they neglect their spouse and child."

"Normal people don't change their name to something else and explore dark magic."

Tom pursed his lips. Ophelia slept silently in his hands and he set her back in the stroller. With a flick of his hand, the cover on the stroller closed.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

Tom went inside the room without replying. She couldn't help but to follow him in. He sat down on his bed while she stood by the door.

"You have a gift, Emelia. It's quite...rare."

"I don't understand."

"Why were you intruding into my conversations the other night? I sensed you."

She tensed up.

"I still don't know what you mean."

"You know exactly what I mean, Emelia."

His gaze intensified and she felt compelled to sit next to him.

"Stop it." Emelia demanded.

"I'm not doing anything, darling."

Her legs shifted and moved forward. She was now sitting next to him, unwillingly.

"You saw where I was in your dream, didn't you? Now, you must not reveal that information to anyone or the consequences shall be dire. Do you understand?"

She nodded rapidly. He knew she'd keep his secret. She'd been loyal, so far. But could Tom truly trust her? No one's perfect, after all.

"Now, would you like some whiskey?"

"No. I must get back to Ophelia. She's probably creating a fuss."

"Really? I believe Dolohov's looking over her while she sleeps."

"Please get Dolohov away from her."

"Do you know trust him? Because by extension that would be not trusting me," his hand slipped into hers, "You do trust me, right?"

"No, I don't...but I suppose just one drink wouldn't hurt."

A cruel smile came onto his face and he summoned Firewhisky from the cabinet. He magically poured it into a cup and put a cube of ice in it. She grabbed it while it floated and waited for him to take a sip. When he took a sip of it she decided it wasn't poisoned and chugged some. It had been a while since she consumed alcohol.

It was hard with Ophelia.

The liquor burned in her throat. Emelia was a lightweight. After one glass it started taking affect. Tom kept his composure unlike her.

"Could you stop? You're acting like a drunk slag." he said.

"You were the bloody idiot who got me drunk!"

Her hand slipped while trying to put her drink down. Her hand-eye coordination was so bad that it spilt all over Tom's pants. His eyes turned black and he looked enraged, but it changed. They turned to a dark green color.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice hinted some amount of truth, but she was trying to hold back a laugh.

"Clean it up."