Confrontation and Compromise

The crackling of the fireplace in the common room seemed to vanish instantly, the air freezing solid. Tom Riddle's fingers remained pressed on the blurry copy of the magical photograph, his fingertips turning slightly white from the force. His gaze, like the sharpest ice pick, pierced through the air, locking onto Ares's face, especially the golden chain pattern beneath his left eye.

"Godric's Hollow... 'Blood Pact, Light and Dark Coexist'..." Tom's voice was low and slow, each word as if quenched in ice. "Ares, are you still going to tell me you don't remember anything? Or is this just another... 'coincidence'?"

He picked up the letter, giving it a gentle shake, the paper rustling fragilely. "Peverell believes your markings are related to this photo, and to those two names. Dumbledore... and Grindelwald." He spoke these names with a tone filled with complex emotions—awe of power, and also indignation at being excluded from a world-shattering secret.

Ares's heart pounded heavily in his chest. He knew this moment would eventually come. His vague excuse of amnesia was shattering in the face of such concrete "evidence." He met Tom's scrutinizing gaze, his heterochromatic eyes showing no panic, only a deep, almost weary calm.

"I'm not lying to you, Tom," Ares said, his voice still steady. "My memories of my past are indeed fragmented. But some feelings... some connections, I cannot deny." He chose to admit part of the truth, the only way to temporarily quell Tom's anger and maintain trust.

Tom stepped forward, his nose almost touching Ares's, the magic power emanating from him carrying a sense of pressure. "What connections?" he pressed, not allowing any ambiguity.

Ares took a deep breath, deciding to reveal part of the truth while hiding the core secret behind their emotional bond. "The magic power within me... light and dark coexist. I can feel that it shares a source with certain extremely ancient, extremely powerful beings..." He pointed to the blurry figures in the photograph. "Perhaps Professor Peverell is right. My bloodline might indeed be connected to them..."

He paused, and under Tom's burning gaze, continued with unprecedented seriousness, "But this changes nothing, Tom. I don't know what exactly happened, I don't know why I appeared near the orphanage. All I know, from the moment I opened my eyes, the only certainty, the only truth, is my connection with you."

He gently placed his hand on his chest, feeling the slight warmth from the Blood Pact, and guiding Tom to feel the invisible bond between them. "This connection is more real and important than my fragmented memories, more than any bloodline I might possess. It is the 'anchor' of my existence."

Tom stared at him intently, as if trying to extract every thought from the depths of his soul. Ares did not flinch, accepting his scrutiny calmly. Time slipped away in silence, the whispers of other students in the common room seeming to come from another world.

[Emergency Status! (;′??Д??`) Trust Level Fluctuating Rapidly! Host's Emotional Declaration Outputting... Analyzing... Target's Emotions Stabilizing...]

Finally, the tense, explosive magic power around Tom slowly receded somewhat. The iciness in his eyes hadn't completely melted, but the aggressive killing intent dissipated. He took half a step back, creating some distance.

"Your 'anchor'?" he repeated the word, a hint of mockery in his tone, but more so a complex calculation.

"Yes," Ares affirmed. "No matter where I come from, no matter who my bloodline is connected to, the one standing by your side is me, Ares Phoenix. That will never change."

Tom fell silent. He looked down at the photograph, then back up at Ares. Ares's words had skillfully shifted the focus from "the secret itself" to "the meaning of the secret to them." A bloodline secret potentially linked to the two most powerful wizards of the era was certainly impactful, but Ares's emphasis on "the only certainty"—his connection with Tom—in a way, even satisfied Tom's hidden vanity and desire for control, a secret wish for him to be the most important person in Ares's world.

An ally with such a background, yet still choosing him as an "anchor," was far more valuable—and dangerous—than an ordinary person.

"Peverell cannot investigate further," Tom finally said, his voice returning to its usual calm, but with unquestionable decisiveness. "This secret must remain between us two." He picked up the letter and the photograph, a wisp of ethereal blue flame erupting from his wand tip, turning them to ash.

"I understand," Ares nodded. Destroying evidence was Tom's style.

"As for your 'bloodline'..." Tom's gaze fell on Ares's markings again, this time with less interrogation and more deep calculation. "If this is true, then it represents not just the past, but also... future resources and bargaining chips. We need to use this point more carefully, rather than letting it become a target."

The crisis seemed to have passed for the moment. Tom had accepted Ares's partial, honest explanation and incorporated this astonishing secret into his strategic plans. He didn't press for further details, knowing that pushing too hard might be counterproductive. As long as Ares remained by his side, as long as this connection remained strong, this secret would eventually be entirely at his disposal.

However, a rift had formed. The irreconcilable contradiction lay between Tom's desire for "complete control" and the core secrets Ares would inevitably keep. This confrontation was a dangerous compromise, not a true resolution. Tom's doubts were merely suppressed for now, like a dormant volcano. And Ares clearly realized that as they delved deeper into the core of the wizarding world, the secret of his origins would eventually surface like a rising tide, unstoppable.

That night, in the dormitory, Tom, uncharacteristically, did not immediately immerse himself in reading or practice. Instead, he stood by the window, gazing into the depths of the Black Lake. After a long while, he said, his back to Ares, "Remember what you said today, Ares."

"I will remember," Ares replied.

Trust had been reluctantly pulled back from the edge of a cliff, but the rope holding it was now taut. They still stood side by side, but the foundation beneath their feet had developed a subtle yet undeniable crack. The coexistence of light and dark, under the shadow of secrets, had entered a more precarious phase.