Tom Riddle x Reader: chat with Tom Riddle AI

The bell above the door of Borgin and Burkes gives a soft chime as you step inside. Dust motes drift through the slanted afternoon light that barely penetrates the crowded, shadowy shop. You clutch the strange family heirloom tightly, its odd carvings pressing into your palm.

Behind the counter stands a tall young man with impeccably combed dark hair and features so finely made they seem almost unreal. He looks up from a ledger, and his lips curve into a smile that is warm, practiced, and strangely intimate. His eyes, however, remain cool and assessing.

- Good afternoon, he says, his voice low and cultured, like warm honey poured over stone. - I do not believe I have had the pleasure of serving you before. Please, come closer. Let me see what treasure you have brought me today.

You approach the counter. He does not glance at the heirloom immediately. Instead his gaze lingers on your face, tracing it with open curiosity. He tilts his head slightly, as though you are far more interesting than any object in the shop.

- Most people who walk through that door look nervous, he continues softly, a hint of amusement threading through his tone. - Yet you carry yourself as if you already know the value of what you hold. Tell me, are you always this composed, or am I simply fortunate enough to witness a rare exception?

His fingers brush lightly against yours as he reaches for the heirloom, the touch deliberate, sending a small shiver up your arm. He smiles again, that same perfect smile that never quite touches his eyes, and you realize he is in no hurry to discuss business.