"You sold the Horcrux?!"
The shout erupted, drawing Harry and the Weasleys from the shop like moths to a flame, followed by a gaggle of onlookers. They found Tom leaning against the wall, an expression of controlled annoyance on his face, while Lucius Malfoy stood beside him, visibly trembling.
Lucius was, in fact, utterly terrified.
In a fit of conscience – or, more accurately, self-preservation – he'd recently purged his manor of all forbidden Dark Arts paraphernalia. The diary Tom Riddle had entrusted to him years ago, one of Tom's Horcruxes, had been part of that purge. After all, the Dark Lord hadn't explicitly stated it was a Horcrux; Lucius had simply assumed it was a repository for his… thoughts.
Tom seethed inwardly, already anticipating the fallout. He had heard of the Malfoy family's troubles during his past life, but it was only now, seeing it all from Tom Riddle's perspective, that he truly grasped the depths of their incompetence.
The surrounding onlookers, upon recognizing Tom, began to melt away into the crowd.
"Oh dear, is that rain? I must rush home and rescue my linens!"
"Terribly busy, you know… so many errands, so little time!"
"Heavens, my sister-in-law is birthing a sprog as we speak. Family duties call!"
In moments, only Harry and his cronies remained. Surprisingly, Gilderoy Lockhart stood his ground.
Lockhart stroked his chin, eyes narrowed at Tom, lost in thought. Recent news about Tom flashed through his mind, and considering how many people had seen Tom recently, it seemed few had actually been killed. At least he hadn't heard of any…
He wouldn't kill me, would he?
Bolstered by this flimsy logic, Lockhart approached. "Hahahaha! I…"
Before he could utter a coherent sentence, Tom casually flicked the Elder Wand at him, the tip glowing an ominous green.
"I surrender! I surrender! Spare my life!" Lockhart wailed, throwing his hands up and scrambling backward.
Tom leveled a cold stare at the disgraced professor. "Harry, Draco, beat him up."
He couldn't help himself; he was in a foul mood, and Lockhart had conveniently presented himself as a target.
Hearing Tom's words, Malfoy and Harry grinned with manic glee, each producing a small hammer from within their robes. They advanced upon Lockhart with unsettling speed.
"Professor Lockhart, don't take it personally," Harry chuckled. "I'm heartbroken too."
"So, you just snatched…and took Scarface from me, didn't you?"
Harry lunged forward, sending Lockhart sprawling. Malfoy followed up, smashing the hammer into what was once Lockhart's handsome face.
Cassandra emerged from the bookstore, arching an eyebrow at the sight of Harry and Malfoy gleefully pummeling Lockhart. She approached Tom. "Teacher, what's wrong?"
Tom reached out, stroking Cassandra's gleaming blonde hair, and shook his head slightly. "Just a minor… inconvenience."
Lucius, observing this exchange, couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Why couldn't Draco have been born a girl?
Malfoy, in the midst of his assault, suddenly shivered, then renewed his hammering with increased fervor. "You're cursing me in your mind, aren't you?!"
"Huh?" Lockhart, now sporting a severe dental deficiency, looked utterly bewildered. From his perspective, Malfoy had paused for less than three seconds, said nothing, and then launched into a tirade before striking him even harder.
Tom sighed deeply, then turned back to Lucius. "So? Where did you sell the Horcrux?"
Lucius blurted, "I seem to recall selling it… to Mr. Borgin."
Without another word, Tom turned on his heel and led Cassandra toward Knockturn Alley.
Lucius started to follow when Tom's voice stopped him. "Take Draco and the others to purchase the remainder of their school supplies."
...
Knockturn Alley.
A festering hive of shadows and vice, inhabited by the dregs of wizarding society. Tom and Cassandra, dressed without any attempt at concealment, immediately drew the attention of circling dark wizards. But upon recognizing Tom, they quickly slunk away into the darkness.
They arrived at a shop radiating an aura of decay and neglect.
"Borgin and Burkes?" Cassandra tilted her head, studying the sign.
"The merchandise here is… unique," Tom said. "Many items cannot be found elsewhere." He added, "But do not venture here alone unless you are confident in your ability to defend yourself."
Cassandra understood Tom's concern and nodded obediently.
Stepping inside, they found a greasy-haired old man meticulously arranging a collection of grotesque artifacts behind the counter.
Hearing the bell chime, Borgin looked up and drawled, "Well, well, a most… distinguished visitor." Despite his words, he betrayed no fear, clearly confident Tom wouldn't harm him. "I wonder what the esteemed Dark Lord desires from my humble establishment?" Borgin's tone was almost conversational.
Tom brushed aside the pleasantries. "Old Borgin, did Lucius Malfoy sell you certain items recently?"
Borgin feigned surprise. After a moment's contemplation, he nodded slowly. "Indeed, that is correct."
Having confirmed his suspicions, Tom continued, "Among those items was a diary… my diary."
Borgin's eyes flickered with understanding, but... "I am most regretful to inform you that the diary was sold but a short time ago." Borgin's tone was laced with false regret. If the diary were still here, he could have used it to ingratiate himself with the Dark Lord.
Tom's brow furrowed slightly. "Sold to whom?"
Borgin didn't hesitate. "A young wizard from Hogwarts, due to graduate soon. Rather daring to come here, he was… a Slytherin, if I recall correctly."
"..."
How could that thing sneak into Hogwarts?
Tom was speechless. This is becoming a recurring theme; first Hermione, now this. It just goes to show how powerful fate is.
Tom sighed helplessly. "Well, since we are already here… is there anything that catches your eye?"
Seeing Tom's questioning glance, Cassandra wandered over to a cabinet and retrieved an item she had been admiring earlier: an antique mask.
"She is…" Borgin looked at Cassandra, puzzled.
"My student."
Hearing this, Borgin's gaze sharpened with interest.
…
When the pair returned to Diagon Alley, they found Lucius embroiled in a brawl with Mr. Weasley, while Harry and the others cheered him on.
"Get him, Dad! Left hook!"
"Pull his hair! No mercy!"
Would this have happened even without that diary?
As that thought crossed his mind, Tom murmured, almost to himself, "Fate…" He was starting to find the concept… intriguing.