"The suit of goblin-made armor—Mr. Borgin would like to offer a higher price..." Tom Riddle drew his chin back slightly, his upturned gaze fixed on the old woman opposite him. His smile and the rise and fall of his voice were both extraordinarily charming. "Five hundred Galleons. He thinks that's fair enough—"
"Oh, don't be in such a hurry." Hepzibah picked up her teacup, swaying and wriggling as she pouted almost the way Lavender wheedled Ron. "Otherwise I'll think you only came here for my things..."
"I was sent here for them... madam," Tom Riddle said softly, in a tone as though he were deeply regretful. The slight lift at the corner of his mouth looked utterly sincere. His eyes never left her face as he leaned forward, both hands braced on his knees, making him look somewhat aggrieved. "I'm only a lowly shop assistant. I can only do as I'm told. Mr. Borgin asked me to ask—"
"Oh, Mr. Borgin." Hepzibah seemed to take pity on Tom Riddle when she saw him like that. She waved one small hand, as if she had just thought of something that would cheer up the boy before her, and an irrepressibly smug smile spread over her face. "I'm going to show you something Mr. Borgin has never seen. Can you keep a secret?"
Tom Riddle gazed intently at her, the teaspoon in his hand turning over and over in his teacup, and only then did Harry notice that he was wearing a ring on the index finger of his right hand.
"Can you promise not to tell Mr. Borgin that I have this?" Hepzibah leaned forward too, shortening the distance between herself and Voldemort, making it more intimate. "But you, Tom..." Her voice grew even more sickly sweet when she called his