Hogwarts Castle was shrouded in a tense atmosphere mixed with anxiety and anticipation. The end of the first school year was drawing near, and final exams hung over every student like heavy storm clouds. For Tom Riddle, this was not merely a time to test the results of a year's learning; it was a crucial battle to cement his status as a "genius" and prove his worth to every doubter.
He devoted nearly all his time to revision. At the edge of the Restricted Section in the library, in the quietest corner of the Slytherin Common Room, and even in the dormitory late at night, he could be seen buried beneath piles of books. His goal was not simply to pass, but to claim first place in the year with overwhelming, indisputable superiority.
Such extreme focus brought immense pressure. The magical fluctuations around Tom became sharper and more unstable, like taut strings that could snap at any moment. He grew quieter than usual, and his gaze became colder. Whenever his eyes met Ares's, a trace of unresolved anxiety could sometimes be seen deep within those black eyes.
Ares could clearly sense Tom's condition. He knew that mere words of comfort were pale and powerless before Tom's obsession with perfection. He chose a more practical approach.
During theoretical revision for Charms, whenever Tom became tangled in the subtle differences within the energy structure of a complex spell, Ares would seemingly casually mention another perspective on the nature of magical flow that he had read in an ancient scroll, often enlightening Tom in an instant.
When it came to memorizing Potions Class formulas, Ares used his powerful Mental Power to turn those tedious procedures and material properties into rhythmic chains of easy-to-remember images, sharing them with Tom through slight, permitted mental tendrils. This greatly improved his efficiency in memorization.
Even when reciting the tedious timelines of A History of Magic, Ares could uncover the underlying logic of power struggles and ideological conflicts, allowing Tom to memorize through understanding rather than rote learning, with remarkable results.
Ares offered all this help silently and without claiming credit, as though it were merely part of their everyday exchanges. Tom accepted the help while outwardly maintaining his proud independence, but deep down, he knew that without Ares, he could not have sustained such intense revision while keeping himself from completely losing control.
Exam week finally arrived. Charms, Transfiguration, Potions... one subject after another. Tom performed brilliantly in every examination room. His precise spell control, flawless potion quality, and profound understanding far beyond his age displayed during questioning made the professors nod repeatedly.
However, an accident occurred during the final practical examination—Dark Magic Defense.
The practical exam required students to face a low-level Boggart controlled by a professor. When it was Tom's turn, the Boggart twisted and churned before everyone's eyes, finally freezing into shape—it became a deep, suffocating darkness, and within that darkness stood the cold, tightly shut gates of Wool's Orphanage.
This was one of Tom's deepest fears—being abandoned, being reduced to what he once was, and returning to that hopeless past where he had been regarded as a monster.
Low murmurs rose among the watching students. Tom's face turned deathly pale in an instant, and the hand clutching his wand trembled faintly. The incantation "Riddikulus" reached his lips, only to choke there as icy, bone-deep panic surged through him. He could show strength to anyone, yet he alone could not face this image born from the depths of his soul, representing the source of all his shame and vulnerability.
At the instant he stiffened, Ares, standing not far behind and to one side of him, silently moved half a step forward. He made no obvious movement and did not even look at Tom, but he concentrated, transforming the mingled light and dark magic within him—especially the part belonging to "protection" and "stability"—into an exceedingly faint yet incomparably precise ripple. Like the softest feather, it brushed over Tom's tense back.
There were no words and no contact. It was only support forged from pure will and their bond.
Tom gave a violent shudder. It was as if he had heard Ares's silent reminder and felt that familiar power capable of calming the storm in his heart. He took a deep breath, and clarity and coldness instantly returned to his eyes. All panic was forcibly suppressed, replaced by the fury of someone who had been offended and urgently needed to destroy the source of that offense.
"Riddikulus!" he said clearly, his wand pointed steadily at the orphanage gates.
With a loud bang, the gates that symbolized fear and humiliation suddenly twisted and transformed, finally turning into a huge, ludicrous statue of Mrs. Cole in a ballet skirt, clumsily spinning in circles!
Laughter erupted at once, dispersing the earlier heavy atmosphere. The examining professor froze for a moment, then could not help laughing as well before loudly announcing, "Excellent! Mr. Riddell, you faced your inner fear and overcame it successfully! Ten points to Slytherin!"
Tom withdrew his wand expressionlessly and stepped down from the examination area. He did not look at anyone, walking straight back to the waiting area. Yet Ares saw that the fingertips of the hand hanging at his side were still trembling faintly.
All the exams ended. That evening, the results were announced. Without any suspense, Tom Riddle's name stood at the very top of the year, leading second place by an enormous margin. He had received "Outstanding" in every subject.
The Slytherin table erupted into enthusiastic applause and cheers, celebrating their rising star. Abraxas Malfoy personally raised his glass to him. Tom stood among the crowd, accepting their praise with a proper, slightly reserved smile, as though that brief loss of composure in the Dark Magic Defense examination room earlier that day had never happened.
But only Ares knew what tempestuous waves lay beneath that perfect exterior.
Late at night, in the Slytherin dormitory.
Tom was not reading or practicing magic as usual. He simply stood quietly before the "window," looking at the dim lake water outside and the occasional glowing jellyfish drifting past. His back looked especially solitary and straight.
Ares did not disturb him. He merely sat on his own bed and waited quietly.
After an unknown amount of time, Tom finally spoke slowly, his voice low and hoarse. "What... did you do today?"
He had felt it. In the examination room, that force had pulled him back from the edge of the abyss of fear.
Ares answered calmly, "I merely stood there."
Tom turned around, his black eyes fixed tightly on Ares in the dim light as though he wished to see through his soul. "Don't lie to me. I can feel it."
Ares met his gaze without avoiding it. "I didn't use any spell. I just... didn't want you trapped by something like that."
Those words were like the final blow, shattering all of Tom's defenses. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, incomparably complicated emotions churned within them—annoyance at having his vulnerability seen through, dependence on that silent support, and something else... an indescribable tremor, as though his very soul had been touched.
He walked to Ares's bedside. Unlike before, there was no probing or command in his manner, only an almost weary honesty as he said softly, "That place... that past... I never want to go back."
"You won't." Ares raised his head and looked at him, unwavering certainty filling his mismatched eyes. "We won't."
Tom gazed deeply at him. After a long while, he gave an almost inaudible "Mm." He did not say thank you, nor did he make any intimate gesture. He merely reached out and gently took the Ancient Runes notebook Ares had placed by his pillow.
"Starting tomorrow," he said as he flipped through the notebook. His tone regained its usual calmness, though it had lost some of its sharpness. "We'll study the next formation diagram. I need stronger... protection."
He did not say what it was meant to protect. But Ares knew.
[დინ! Emotional support at a crucial moment and acceptance of vulnerability have greatly reinforced the foundation of trust.] [Soul Anchor construction progress: +10%] [Hint: Sharing vulnerability and offering silent protection are key to allowing the anchor to penetrate the soul.]
The system's notification sounded quietly. Watching Tom immerse himself in research once more, Ares knew that the end of this school year was not the end of their relationship, but the beginning of a deeper connection. After the undercurrents of the final exams and that silent protection, the symbiosis of light and darkness had become even more inseparable.
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