Unexpected Encounters | Tom Riddle

XXIX: The Brewing Storm

Yes . The word screamed in her mind, but she couldn't say it aloud. "I would hope not," she said instead, her voice trembling slightly. "But that's why we're practicing together every day." Abraxas sighed and leaned back in his chair, his frustration evident. "What is it with you and your secrets?" He muttered. "I'm sorry I dragged you all into this mess," she whispered, biting her lip as guilt gnawed at her.

For a moment, he said nothing, his icy gaze fixed on the ceiling. "It's just... We all have our family names protecting us. Except for Tom." His voice softened, his usual sharpness giving way to something almost vulnerable. "Grindelwald would probably strike him first if he decided to." Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of Tom facing Grindelwald. "It won't get that bad," she said, her voice firm with conviction. "I won't let it."

Abraxas studied her intently, searching for something in her expression. She seemed so resolute, so determined to protect them all. He wanted to believe her, but doubt lingered in the corners of his mind. "Okay," he said finally, his voice quiet.

As he sipped his butterbeer, he made a silent vow: if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate to protect Tom. Even if it meant putting himself in harm's way.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Meanwhile, across the street, Tom emerged from a dimly lit bookstore, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. The scrap of parchment in his pocket held the instructions for a potion that would finally reveal Lilia's birthdate. It had been a coincidence, really, stumbling upon her file during a visit to Dippet's office. But something about it gnawed at him. The date read only July 31st. No year. No further detail. Was it merely an oversight? Or was it the key to something much bigger?

The genus potion was invasive, something he had wrestled with as he copied the recipe. But curiosity burned within him, and the mystery of her missing birthdate was a thread he couldn't resist pulling.

As he made his way to the Three Broomsticks for a celebratory butterbeer, he spotted Abraxas' platinum hair through the frosted window. His gaze flicked to the girl sitting across from him, and though he refused to acknowledge the relief he felt, a small part of him was glad to see her.

"Lilia, you have some of the beer on your mouth," Abraxas noted, his voice quieter than usual. Lilia frowned, immediately feeling self-conscious as she tried to lick away the foam moustache she was sure was there. "Is it gone?" She asked, her cheeks warming slightly.

"No," Abraxas replied, his own brows furrowing as he watched her fumble with the attempt. After a few failed tries, he sighed audibly. "Here," he said, leaning forward before he had the chance to second-guess himself. His thumb brushed softly against her upper lip, the gesture deliberate yet careful.

Lilia froze, feeling the surprising warmth of his touch. Abraxas didn't pull away, his gaze inadvertently dropping to her lips. Plush. Pink. Soft. For the first time, he wondered what it might feel like to close the distance, to know her in a way that wasn't supposed to matter. The thought startled him, and he yanked his hand back like he'd been burned. His pulse hammered against his ribs as he glanced away, mortified by his own thoughts.

Lilia, equally flustered, averted her eyes. Her cheeks burned, but she forced herself to break the silence with a light laugh. "Thanks," she mumbled, though she avoided looking directly at him. The moment hung in the air between them, thick and heavy.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Tom's voice sliced through the atmosphere like a blade, cold and sharp. His dark eyes flicked between them, narrowing slightly as he took in their expressions. Lilia's flushed cheeks. Abraxas' tense posture. Something bitter curled in Tom's chest, and his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.