A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter. Please let me know what you think!
Bottle & Glass was located on the fashionable edge of Knockturn Alley, where the sinister bled into the facade of regular society. A sturdy pub with dark green leather on the seats, it had long been a popular haunt for a certain subset of Wizarding society — one that was wealthy and connected and pureblood. Naturally, it was the only place that Abraxas would suggest catching a drink with his friends, even if it was a bit of a walk from the Ministry of Magic, where he conducted most of his business.
The weather was uncommonly hot for July and Abraxas could feel a trickle of sweat beading at the nape of his neck as he sweltered in his smart wool robes. Such bodily functions were unbecoming of a Malfoy. He quickly cast a cooling charm, sighing in relief at the feel. He shouldn't have been in a hurry, but he'd agreed to meet Alfred and Tom when Tom's shift finished and he knew how much his friend detested anyone who was tardy.
Pulling the door open, he was pleased to feel the cool air of the pub. He noticed his two friends sitting in their usual booth. Making his way to the bar, he ordered his usual firewhiskey - not the most expensive on the menu, but certainly the best tasting.
Abraxas knew that wasn't what most people would expect out of a Malfoy. He knew that many of his pureblood peers saw his family as some sort of gauche nouveau riche, always splashing their galleons around. He found the label absolutely vexing. So what if the Malfoys had only been in this country for two hundred years and they couldn't trace their lineages back to Arhurian legends? The Malfoy bloodline was just as pure as anyone else's, albeit based in France.
And, he was never going to apologise for spending his family's money. The Malfoys did have money, after all, and it would be a real sin not to enjoy it while he could. Besides, it wasn't as if he was going to spend it all like the Selwyns had. Pathetic.
He leaned against the bar while he waited for the barkeep to pull down the bottle from the top shelf, his eyes finding his friends once again. It looked as if Alfie and Tom were in another one of their debates - Tom looking serious as ever and Alfie looking exasperated. Smirking, he wondered what it was that Alfie was trying to convince Tom of this time. If there was one thing he knew about Tom Riddle, it was that he could be unmoveably stubborn, but still, even after over a decade of friendship, it seemed Alfie hadn't learned that same lesson.
Running his fingers through his blond hair, Abraxas knew that Tom required a more delicate touch. He needed a lot of pampering and manipulation to be guided to the proper path, even though Abaxas would never dream of telling the other wizard he saw it that way. It wasn't as if Tom didn't have many incredible ideas of his own. Just...he needed a little bit of guiding to find the proper path to get there.
For instance, Tom had decided that the best stepping stone on his career path after Hogwarts had been working as a shopkeep for Borgin & Burkes. No amount of Abraxas telling him that it was beneath him and his talents would get Tom to give up the job, not after he'd decided that he could learn much about the Dark Arts there. Abraxas would rather utilize the dangerous wizard for other ends, though.
And he was going to, eventually. Tom Riddle was undoubtedly his ticket to solidifying the Malfoy family's political influence in Wizarding Britain once and for all. Yes, his father sat on the Wizengamot now, and Abraxas spent his time lobbying various influential witches and wizards to advance their agenda, but they were still seen as outsiders. The Malfoys couldn't spearhead any initiatives on their own, though their support could go a long way. But all of that was going to change once he got Tom to accept that leading the Ministry was the best course of action.
He had to think that the idea was his own, though.
Abraxas was beginning to think that his time was running out. Tom had started to make noises about traveling the world in order to hone his craft of Dark Magic. Why he thought that was best done in Albania was something that Abraxas would never understand. But, he knew that he needed to convince Tom now before he lost his friend to a decade of finding himself in the Balkans.
Walking over to his friends, he slid into the spot next to Tom, grinning at Alfie's exasperated look. "What's got your wand in a knot? The price of asphodel?" he teased.
Alfred Nott had pursued a career after leaving Hogwarts, getting involved in the trade of potions ingredients. Quite the lucrative business, if Malfoy was honest. Still, he took a lot of slack for it, given that the rest of the Ancient and Noble houses looked down on working in more than just a ceremonial capacity. Why, even Alfie's own father, Cantankerous, spent his time creating an absolutely worthless directory detailing the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight' pureblood families in Wizarding Britain.
As if any true pureblood needed a directory to inform them on blood status.
"If only it was that simple," Alfie responded, with a roll of his blue eyes. "It's to do with a witch."
That caught Abraxas's attention. As far as he could tell, Alfie was not interested in witches romantically. Or, at least, he'd never been seen with one in all the years that they had been friends. And it was not for lack of options. Alfie was a rather average looking wizard, but his long eyelashes were enough to make witches swoon, and he had the privilege of being the sole heir of a respected house and established fortune. That wasn't to say that Alfie seemed interested in wizards, either. While that would be unusual, it wasn't unheard of.
No, the only thing that seemed to Alfie going was a particular brand of dark magic. His cruel blue eyes would light up when he talked about this arcane spell or that foreign hex that he'd discovered that week.
It made sense that he and Tom were such fast friends in that regard.
"Really? Who is she?" Abraxas asked, throwing back a swig of his firewhiskey to hide the smirk on his face.
"Not me!" he answered, clearly growing more and more agitated. "Tom's found himself some witch."
Abraxas felt dread settle in his belly at the suggestion. It was even more unheard of that Tom would be interested enough in a witch than Alfie. Only, it wasn't because Tom wasn't interested in witches. He'd had more than his share of admirers with his extremely good looks and charming manor. But, he certainly never was interested in a witch long enough to mention one to his friends.
"I didn't find her," Tom admonished, a lazy smile on his face. "I told you, she waltzed right into Borgin's."
"When?" Abraxas demanded, feeling his throat tighten up a bit.
"This afternoon," he answered.
"What's so special about her?" the blond interrogated, needing to get to the bottom of this terrible turn of events. He didn't think he could stand it if Tom was suddenly so wrapped up in some girl that he lost all ambition entirely.
"Who said there was anything special about her?" Tom retorted, obviously teasing.
Alfie scowled. "Tom, you wouldn't have brought her up if there wasn't something special about here," he said, frustrated. "You know you seem like a real smug prick when you enjoy rubbing it in that you know something that we don't."
Tom seemed annoyed that his evasive fun was coming to an end. "I can't entirely put my finger on it, exactly. She had a fantastic breath of knowledge," he said, sounding a bit breathless as his focus waned and he slipped into his memories. "She seemed dangerous somehow and it left me feeling like I would much rather be on her good side."
"I'm sure she was pretty, too," Alfie sneered, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking back in the booth.
He shrugged. "She was by no means gorgeous, but, yes, she was attractive," he conceded. "You know that a pretty face would rarely tempt me."
Abraxas himself could not understand. He needed a pretty face to catch his attention and then he just hoped that the witch would have a personality to agree with him, too.
"Well, what did she want, then?" Abraxas asked, his annoyance only growing from the coy way that Tom was acting. "Unless her knowledge was the only thing to catch your attention, in which case, I suggest that you redirect your desires to a new book."
Tom laughed at that. "She was sent into the shop by the Ministry of Magic," he revealed, finally, pulling a small rectangle of cream-coloured cardstock from his pocket. "She was inspecting the shop for Dark Artefacts after a tip off."
"The Ministry!" Abraxas hissed, wondering just when his friend had grown such a death wish. His name and Dark Magic should not be coming up to the Ministry ever. "Salazar, Tom, did she find anything?"
"No," he said, quirking his lips up at the corners. "Though, as I mentioned before, she certainly had enough knowledge to confiscate at least a dozen items from the main shop. She gave me just enough detail to reveal that she knew the report was founded, but she let it go."
Abraxas cleared his throat, his mind whirring in a hundred different directions. "I don't know that this is a good thing, Tom," he said, cautiously. "It might only signal that the Ministry is trying to build a bigger case against Borgin and Burke, and by extension, you. Maybe she is only hoping that you will let your guard down once you thought that you passed and the real raid is just around the corner."
Tom was silent for a moment, his fingers drumming on the worn wood table top. Then he shook his head. "I don't think so," he countered. "I am an excellent read of people. And in her, I saw only barely contained curiosity."
"You see the problem?" Alfie complained to Abraxas, waving his hand in front of their mutual friend. "He's going to get himself in trouble. He won't see reason."
The Malfoy heir did of course see the problem. But he also knew his friend. They were going to get nowhere by trying to talk Tom out of pursuing the witch, if that's what he wanted to do. "What are your plans?" he asked, knowing that he would have to support Tom until he could come to the correct conclusion - the witch was nothing special.
"I was hoping you'd ask," Tom answered, before handing the card over to Abraxas. "You've got more than your share of Ministry contacts, Abraxas. I would like you to get any sort of information that you can get about her for me. I want to know everything I can about her."
Abraxas looked it over and realized it was one of the Ministry standard calling cards. 'Hermione Granger' winked at him in a cranberry-coloured font, before detailing her office.
"I've never heard of any Grangers," he said, mistrust in his voice. Whoever this witch was, she was not likely well connected, which was a pity. It meant it would be so much more difficult to get details on her.
"Well, you'd probably never heard of any Riddles before me, either," Tom answered. "Sometimes the unknown name might even be hiding an heir of Slytherin."
"I somehow doubt that," Abraxas said. Yes, he hadn't heard of any Riddles before, but he was sure that Tom's circumstance was not Granger's.
"Tell me you will do this for me," Tom demanded. "Or I will ask Evan instead."
Abraxas shook his head. He wasn't going to let Rosier swoop in and steal up Tom's appreciation. "No, I will find out everything I can about her," he promised, pocketing the calling card. "Maybe too much."
Tom rewarded him with a smile. "Somehow, I doubt that," he answered, looking pleased as punch for getting his own way.