I Know This Is Niche But I'm Really Very Kind Of Ticked Off That The Bloody Baron And The Grey Lady Weren't

I know this is niche but I'm really very kind of ticked off that the Bloody Baron and the Grey Lady weren't dressed in medieval clothing in the movies.

happy slytherin pride day 🐍💚🍏

congrats on 700!

(✒️) 64.

“you come here often?” “well i work here, so i think i'm obligated to say ‘yes’.”?

This line of course made me of our favourite budding villain being Borgin and Burkes' most irritated employee. I don't really have much other than that, do what you will with it if it at all interests you :)

surprisingly enough, it also made me think of our budding villain who worked at borgin and burkes that happened to be the most irritated employee.

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( ✒️ ) MINI BLURBS — give me a character and a prompt you'd like and I'll write a mini blurb about it.} prompt : one. two. three.

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➡ pairing : tom riddle x reader.

➡ genre : gen.

➡ prompt(s) : 64. "you come here often?" "well I work here, so I think I'm obligated to say 'yes'?"

➡ content/warning(s) : retail! riddle, mentions of selling organs, mentions of a cigarette.

➡ summary : you walk into borgin and burkes expecting one of the old musty men only to find the exact opposite.

➡ taglist : @bellatrixscurls @faeinorbit @gothboutique @darkladyslytherin @latte125 @pearlstiare @keepdaydreamingbb @wvsh @agent0380 @anyqueen008 @potters-heart @fairysums @somanyfic-recss @shibble @thequitebrokengirl

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you strolled into the least shady looking shop in the whole of knocturn alley ( and that was saying something since this place looked like they sell your organs- ) with a light bounce to your step.

"riddle, check the counter!" the loud voice of a man rang through the shop after a chime from the bell.

footsteps were shortly heard coming from the backside of the shop "what can I do for you, miss?" a smooth voice with little a rasp to it questioned as a man arrived at the counter.

you observed the man before you with a raised eyebrow, soft black curls parted to the side, white sleeves folded to reveal pale veiny forearms and hands, one of which was holding a cigarette between two fingers, and last but not least a face that belonged in a greek mythology book.

"bloody hell.." you shook your head to finish the staring constest you were holding with his arms.

"I'm here to collect the order that I made two days ago."

"okay," the man before you flipped through one of the books at the counter and you continued to look. he lifted his head to give you a slightly confused look.

"oh my apologies, I'm here to buy some bloodroot plants."

"I see, I'm going to have to look for it if you don't mind." you shook your head and allowed the man to move around, you observed as he wandlessely disintegrated the cigarette and squatted down to a look at a place behind the counters.

he was working in silence and you felt quite awkward so you decided to strike up a conversation "you come here often?" was the first question that bumped into your mind and you winced at the stupidity of the question "its just because I didn't see you last time-"

you heard a chuckle leave the man's mouth and allowed yourself to smile at the achievement "well I work here, so I think I'm obligated to say 'yes'?"

"wonderful." you looked away from him as your cheeks flushed.

"may I have your name?" he asked and you were about to get excited when you turned only to find him wanting it as to put it down on the records for his employers.

"oh, [name] [surname]." he nodded and handed you a bag of your wanted supplies.

"that'll be 45 galleons, miss [surname]." he smiled at you politely and you placed the sack of money on the table.

"thank you for your service." you sent him back a smile of your own.

"thank you for purchasing at borgin and burkes, hopefully you'll come around here next time. take care."

'oh don't worry, I will' you thought to yourself as you stole one last glance at him.

you walked out of the shop before you were stopped by his voice "by the way, my name is tom riddle."

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700 followers celebration event.

Rubeus Hagrid meets Tom Riddle (Excerpt, Chapter 29)

Both Tom and Merrythought turned around to see the victim; but they need not have worried.

He laughed good-naturedly as the spell bounced off of him ― the boy had to be pushing eight feet tall. But he wasn't tall in the weedy, gawky way either (although, being thirteen, he was obviously awkward-looking). He was solid and wide and his hands were enormous.

"Miss Nott!" snapped Merrythought. "I told you categorically that no duelling spells were to be used! Twenty points from Slytherin!"

The girl who had cast the spell ― Nott's sister ― simply pouted, and then gave Tom a long, sideways look from under her eyelashes. He ignored her, and went over to the strangely unperturbed victim of the Knockback Jinx.

"I'm Tom Riddle," he said, offering his hand to the boy. "Slytherin House, fifth-year."

He grinned, and shook Tom's hand heartily. "Rubeus Hagrid," he offered. "Nice ter meet yeh, Tom."

He would see about that.

"Take Hagrid to the Hospital Wing, Riddle," ordered Merrythought.

Tom didn't see anything wrong with Rubeus, but he obeyed. It was on his way to Dumbledore's office, anyway.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go."

As soon as they were out in the corridor, Tom, not one to mince words when the opportunity arose or deny his curiosity, asked: "Are you a half-giant, Rubeus? The way that spell bounced off you..."

Rubeus shrugged, and made a funny sort of nod; half-proud, half-embarrassed.

"Why did that girl jinx you?" asked Tom, wondering if it was anything he could use against Nott.

Rubeus shrugged once more.

"Yeh know," he said. "Most of th' students don' like my kind. 'Specially in Slytherin."

"Half-bloods?"

"Half-breeds. 'Course, not everybody figures it out as quick as yeh. Professor Dumbledore did, o' course. "

"Oh." Tom had heard that word being thrown around the common room, but he generally didn't pay much attention to name-calling unless it applied to him. So that was why Merrythought had been so desperate to get Hagrid out of her class; she probably wanted him out of Hogwarts, too.

"Are yeh Muggle-born?" Rubeus went on, in that same good-natured way that reminded Tom of Algie Longbottom, his now fellow prefect and the apple of Merrythought's eye.

He'll probably get the job after she retires, thought Tom.

It was Tom's turn to shrug. He could have explained, but he didn't feel like going into all that David Copperfield nonsense.

So this is Dumbledore's other charity case, is it?

They both fell silent for a while.

"Well, here's the Hospital Wing," said Tom, gesturing at the door. "Take care."

Rubeus flashed him a toothy grin, and hurried inside.

"What an imbecile," Tom muttered under his breath, then with a dramatic swish of his robes, turned away and went towards the next corridor.

In his not-at-all-humble opinion, he was the much superior of Dumbledore's charity cases.

Native English speakers are the world’s worst communicators

In a room full of non-native speakers, ‘there isn’t any chance of understanding’. It might be their language, but the message is often lost

“A lot of native speakers are happy that English has become the world’s global language. They feel they don’t have to spend time learning another language,” says Chong.

“But… often you have a boardroom full of people from different countries communicating in English and all understanding each other and then suddenly the American or Brit walks into the room and nobody can understand them.”

The non-native speakers, it turns out, speak more purposefully and carefully, typical of someone speaking a second or third language. Anglophones, on the other hand, often talk too fast for others to follow, and use jokes, slang and references specific to their own culture, says Chong. In emails, they use baffling abbreviations such as ‘OOO’, instead of simply saying that they will be out of the office.

“The native English speaker… is the only one who might not feel the need to accommodate or adapt to the others,” she adds.

Chapter Twenty-Five: There is Only Power

While the other students went to Hogsmeade on the weekends, he wandered the hallways, looking for false panels and hidden levers, while avoiding Pringle to make sure that he didn't get caned for getting fingerprints on the suits of armour.

One Saturday in the middle of June, he was wandering around the left corridor on the seventh floor, pacing in front of a tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy making a bizarre and idiotic attempt to teach trolls ballet, and thinking that he needed a place to hide and think quietly without being disturbed by first or second years, Dumbledore, or worse yet, Pringle.

All of a sudden, there was a quiet pop, and a door that hadn't been before was... well, there.

Not one to be deterred by strange occurrences, Tom did what any fifteen-year-old bored out of their wits would do: opened the door and went in.

Tom Riddle discovers the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Abraxas Malfoy discovers Lord Voldemort.

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