Midnight Corridor Secret Talk

Slughorn's invitation acted as a catalyst, accelerating Tom Riddle's rise within Slytherin. His already striking appearance, refined demeanor, and demonstrated talent in Potions and Transfiguration quickly made him the center of attention among the first-year students. Some observant older students also began to notice the boy from the Muggle orphanage with his extraordinary bearing, including the fifth-year Abraxas Malfoy. This heir to a Pure-blood family, with his short, pale blonde hair and an elegance that exuded innate arrogance, extended an olive branch to Tom during a "chance" encounter in the library. His words hinted at an acknowledgment of Tom's potential and the "friendship" and resources the Malfoy family could offer.

Tom cautiously responded to this attention. He was like a shrewd chess player, carefully managing his image—talented yet humble and eager to learn, showing respect for the long-standing traditions of Pure-bloods, while subtly revealing an edge of ambition that refused to be overshadowed. He knew that both Slughorn's club and Malfoy's favor were crucial stepping stones for his next plan.

Ares, meanwhile, faithfully fulfilled his role as an "observer." He remained quiet, often reading ancient scrolls brought from the vaults alone or practicing control over his "Eternal Cycle" wand. In the common room, he was more like a background presence, but the occasional insightful glance from his mismatched eyes would cause students engaged in loud conversations to unconsciously restrain themselves. His "difference" and Tom's "brilliance" formed a curious complementarity.

Friday night soon arrived. Tom changed into his neatest school robe (though still second-hand, it was impeccably straightened with magic), while Ares was much more casual. The two followed Slughorn's instructions to a warm and comfortable room on the eighth floor of the castle.

It was a stark contrast to the chilly Slytherin common room. The room was furnished with plush armchairs, a real fire crackled warmly in the fireplace, and the air was filled with the aroma of baked biscuits, cakes, and a sweet candied jackfruit. A dozen or so students were already present, mostly older years from different houses, but all known for some kind of "special" quality—whether it was prestigious lineage like Abraxas Malfoy, who had already arrived, exceptional academic performance, or being a "uniquely backgrounded" genius like Tom.

Professor Slughorn, dressed in an even more flamboyant plum-colored robe, bustled through the crowd like a happy walrus, enthusiastically introducing everyone and connecting those he deemed "valuable."

"Ah! Mr. Riddle! Mr. Phoenix! Welcome, welcome!" Slughorn called out loudly upon seeing them, ushering them over to a group of older students discussing the Ministry's latest decree. "This is Tom Riddle, a first-year, but with astonishing talent in Potions and Transfiguration! And this is Ares Phoenix, his... companion, also quite unique."

Tom immediately put on his perfect smile and joined the conversation. He didn't pretend to know what he didn't, but instead asked pertinent questions, displaying an interest in the Ministry's operational rules and a keen sense for higher-level political games, quickly capturing the attention of the older students. His performance was both respectful of his seniors and a clever showcase of his intellect and potential.

Ares, meanwhile, accepted a cup of pumpkin juice from Slughorn and retreated to a corner near the bookshelves, blending into the shadows. He appeared to be browsing the books, but in reality, his magic senses were fully engaged, like an invisible spiderweb, capturing every conversation, every exchange of glances in the room.

He overheard some Ravenclaw students discussing a translation problem with an ancient Runic script; two Hufflepuff students complaining about a History of Magic essay; and Abraxas whispering with a seventh-year Slytherin girl about a recent marriage alliance plan within a Pure-blood family, his gaze occasionally sweeping over Tom with an assessing look.

And Tom, at this moment, was being pulled by Slughorn towards a girl with pale blonde hair and an arrogant expression. "Riddle, this is Cassandra Vore, a fourth-year, with extraordinary talent in Divination, a true seer bloodline!"

Cassandra Vore scrutinized Tom with her grey eyes, which seemed veiled in mist, and said in a detached tone, "I see the mists surrounding you, Riddle. Light and shadow war, and your choice... will determine their victory." Her words were like an omen, causing Tom's smile to stiffen for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Destiny must be written by oneself, Miss Vore," Tom replied politely, skillfully evading the topic.

Ares took it all in. He noticed that when Tom conversed with others, he would invariably steer the topic towards more profound magical fields or the core of power, especially those involving strength, influence, and control. He also noticed the barely concealed longing in Tom's eyes when Slughorn mentioned certain precious magical ingredients or lost spells.

The gathering lasted for over an hour, concluding in a friendly yet somewhat utilitarian atmosphere. As they left, Slughorn patted Tom warmly on the shoulder, hinting at his eagerness to see him at the next gathering. Abraxas also gave Tom a meaningful nod of approval.

On the way back to the Slytherin common room, Tom remained silent until they entered the deep dungeon corridor. Then, he spoke, his voice tinged with suppressed excitement, "The Vore family, ancient seer bloodline. Malfoy, one of the twenty-eight Sacred Families, with ample wealth and power. And those seventh-years, their parents have deep roots in the Ministry..."

He seemed to be cataloging his gains. "Slughorn is a good stepping stone, but he knows too much, and... he likes to flaunt his 'collections' too much." Tom's tone carried a hint of imperceptible disdain.

"He likes valuable things," Ares interjected calmly, "including people. You need to make him feel that you are always the most valuable."

Tom nodded, his dark eyes glinting with calculation in the dim torchlight. "I know. However, some knowledge he clearly won't share at gatherings." His steps slowed as they passed a fork leading to a more remote, disused corridor.

Just then, suppressed whimpers of fear and a few fierce growls echoed from the depths of that abandoned corridor.

Both men stopped simultaneously.

Tom frowned, a look of annoyance at being disturbed crossing his face. Ares, however, sensed a chaotic and faint magical fluctuation emanating from there, along with... the presence of some large creature.

"What is it?" Tom asked in a low voice, his hand instinctively reaching for the wand hidden in his robe.

Ares concentrated, his enhanced magic senses extending like tendrils. "Several older students... and... a half-giant? He's protecting something..."

A half-giant? Disgust and wariness flashed in Tom's eyes. In the Pure-blood ideology he had accepted and begun to exploit, giants were considered inferior beings.

They crept silently towards the corner of the corridor, hiding in the shadows and peering into the depths.

They saw three older boys in Slytherin robes surrounding an extremely tall and burly young man in a tattered moleskin coat. The boy looked only thirteen or fourteen, but he was already nearly three meters tall, with thick hair and beard. His black eyes, like chitin, were filled with anger and a childlike helplessness. He stood like a wall, protecting a battered crate behind him, inside which something seemed to be trembling.

"Get lost, you filthy half-breed!" one of the older students cursed viciously, pointing his wand at the half-giant. "Hand over that box! Who knows what monster you're keeping in there!"

"No... can't give it to you..." the half-giant's voice rumbled, choked with tears. "It... it's just a poor little thing..."

"Why are you talking nonsense with him! Teach him a lesson!" another older student raised his wand, seemingly preparing to cast a nasty curse.

Tom watched the scene with indifference, clearly not intending to intervene. In his view, clashing with a half-giant and several older students (who might be future targets or tools) was not worth the trouble.

But Ares's gaze fell on the half-giant's posture, protecting the crate—a will to protect without regard for himself. He remembered his and Tom's time being bullied in the orphanage.

Just as the older student's curse was about to be cast—

"Stop."

A clear, calm voice echoed in the silent corridor, not loud, but with a strange penetrating power.

The older students jumped, turning around sharply, and saw Ares and Tom emerging from the shadows (Tom, though reluctant, had followed).

"Who?" The leader of the older students squinted, recognizing them as younger years. Noticing Ares's mismatched eyes, a mocking expression appeared on his face. "What, two first-years want to meddle?"

Ares didn't look at them. Instead, he turned to the half-giant and asked calmly, "What's your name?"

The half-giant seemed surprised that someone would ask his name, paused, and stammered, "Ru... Rubeus... Rubeus Hagrid."

Ares nodded, then turned to the older students, his mismatched eyes appearing particularly deep in the dim light. "Administrator Pringle seems to be patrolling nearby, and he appears to be particularly 'attentive' to violations of school rules, especially loitering in disused areas."

He wasn't threatening, merely stating a fact. But combined with his calm, almost eerie tone, and Tom's presence beside him—silent but equally imposing—it made the older students hesitate. They exchanged glances, then glared at Hagrid.

"You're lucky, half-breed!" The leader grumbled, retracting his wand and quickly leading the other two away down the corridor.

Hagrid's massive body suddenly relaxed. He looked gratefully at Ares and Tom, especially Ares. "Th... thank you!"

Tom glanced coldly at Hagrid and the crate behind him, said nothing, and turned to leave. He had no interest in the gratitude of such "weaklings."

Ares gave Hagrid a slight nod, his gaze lingering for a moment on his protective, enormous frame and the crate. He said softly, "Be careful." Then he too turned and followed Tom.

Leaving the abandoned corridor, Tom snorted, "A waste of time. A half-giant, only causes trouble."

"He might be useful," Ares said calmly. "The gamekeeper's assistant, right? He can access a lot of things... outside the castle and in the Forbidden Forest." He was implying the existence of unconventional magical creatures or materials.

Tom's steps faltered. He glanced at Ares, a flicker of calculation in his dark eyes. "You always see... different kinds of value." His tone was ambiguous, neither praise nor criticism.

This unexpected encounter was like a discordant note inserted into their meticulously planned steps. But for Ares, it might have been a seed of "protection" planted in Tom's world, increasingly steeped in ambition and Pure-blood ideology. For Tom, however, it was merely an insignificant, even annoying, interlude. His thoughts had already flown to how to leverage Slughorn's club and Malfoy's favor to acquire more profound magical knowledge, connections, and... to explore the deeper secrets of the castle.

The midnight corridor rendezvous did not happen, but this intervention in the silence, in an unknown corner, quietly changed some things.