CHAPTER 2

'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.

You never know what fate, or chance may have in store for you. You may be just an orphan child, forced to live with a family you didn't choose, abused, and terrorized by your "foster" family… or you may be an heir of a very wealthy and very notable family. It matters not. If the Fates have weaved a very intricate web, your destiny will come to you sooner or later. '

"Your coffee, sir." The waiter said, startling Harry.

"Oh, thank you." With a curt nod and a faint smile, Harry settled in the nearest armchair. He didn't realise when he had picked up the book and started browsing through the first lines.

"First time in our shop, sir?" The waiter asked, while serving the cup of coffee in the table in front of Harry.

"Yes, I was passing by and it seemed very cosy…. thought I'd come inside for a cup." Harry fumbled with his words.

The waiter gave him a small smile and nodded. "That explains why, you brought your own book, sir. We have a wide range of English literature!" He exclaimed.

Harry squinted his brow, "But, I…"

"Oh, excuse me!" The waiter apologised as another customer from the other corner motioned for him.

Harry remained in his seat, mouth agape. He eyed the book suspiciously. He turned to examine the first and last page, seeking evidence as to whom this book could belong to. Other than the title, and author's name in the book's back, it looked nondescript. No other author's notes, or editor's name, or printing date, nothing. The book seemed to perfectly match the author's name, a Riddle! Harry inwardly chuckled at his pun.

He opened it again, and resumed reading. It was a strange piece of literature, if it could even be classified as literature. The style of writing resembled more of a diary or just doodling at some points, and it contained many peculiar words. Yet, Harry seemed to find it extremely interesting, he was completely absorbed in the book until his phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him.

"Hello?"

"Harry! Are you alright? Where have you been? Do you know what time is it?" His wife's frantic voice of the phone brought Harry back to reality. He raised his eyes to the clock above the shop's bar and inwardly smacked himself on the forehead.

"Sorry honey, I had a long and very unsettling day. I am alright, actually… I'm on my way home. I'll see you in a bit and explain everything." He heard his wife mumble and "ok, see you home" before he turned off the phone.

He took the last sip from his coffee and rose from the chair. He fumbled with the book in his hands, debating of whether to take it with him or tell the waiter he founded in the shop's bookcase. It didn't seem right for him to just take the book. Someone might have forgotten it there and they may come back to retrieve it. He felt his palms sweating. He eyed his surroundings anxiously to determine if someone is watching him. He kept chewing his bottom lip and tapping his right foot impatiently.

One, two, three…

Harry hurriedly turned and stuffed the book in his briefcase. Quickly he reached the bar, paid for his coffee and mumbled a strained "thank you" to the barista. Briefcase tightly clasped in his arms, he exited the coffee shop in a hurry and with a brisk trot he walked to the direction of his home. As he walked, he kept looking over his shoulder to make sure no-one was following him to confront him about his grand-theft-book.

As he reached his house front-gate, he gave a last glance around and entered closing the gate behind him.

"Harry! Are you alright dear?" his wife said to him, the moment he walked into the house.

"Oh, honey you won't believe the day I had," Harry said while running his hand through his hair.

He sat on the kitchen stool and started explaining to his wife all the weird incidents that happened to him today.

For a moment, he had forgotten about the book he found in the coffee shop, but when his wife asked him where he had been up until this hour, he glanced at his briefcase and scratched his head awkwardly. He opened the briefcase and removed the book from inside. He slowly slid towards his wife and started narrating how he ended at the coffee shop and found the book.

"So, you stole it?" His wife said with a glint in her eyes. "Harry Potter! I don't recognise you!"

Harry turned beat red from embarrassment. "But it didn't belong to the shop! The waiter said…"

"Calm down, honey. I am just teasing you. It is just so out-of-character for you." His wife smiled softly.

Harry gave a dry chuckle and rubbed the back of his head. "So, have you ever seen this book or know the author?" He asked his wife. She was an English literature teacher at a Middle school.

She shook her head. "Tom Marvolo Riddle", the name rolled of her tongue. "No honey, never heard of him. Maybe he self-printed the book, made one and only copy, and left it purposefully in the coffee shop's library for someone to find it! And then he may stalk the poor fool that took the book to read it and pester him for publishing money!" She said wide-eyed, leaning ominously over the kitchen counter towards Harry.

Harry fidgeted in his seat. "Don't be absurd, Martha! No-one does that!".

"Well, I made you squirm," she said with a smug smile as she leaned back into her seat and played with her nails.

Harry gave a grumpy snort and rose from his seat. He took the book from the kitchen counter and tucked it under his arm. He gave a final pout as an answer to his wife's smiling face, before moving over to the couch. He plopped himself down on it and opened the book.

"Ew, what the hell! Is that Robert's drool?"

"Probably!" His wife answered with mirth in her voice.

While muttering something under his breath, Harry scooted over to the other end of the couch and resumed reading.