Since Ares returned from Dumbledore's office, Tom Riddle had felt as though an invisible thread had been drawn taut across his nerves. On the surface, Ares was as normal as ever, but Tom caught his occasional distracted moments and the fleeting, inscrutable complexity deep within those mismatched eyes. These subtle changes gnawed at Tom like ants, deepening his sense of insecurity. Dumbledore's gaze, Peverell's probing, and Ares's allure, which seemed liable to slip beyond his control at any moment... He had to do something. He needed an absolute safeguard that no outside force could shake.
The ancient book on Horcruxes in the Restricted Section had practically become his bible. No longer satisfied with theoretical research, he began frantically searching for information on the ritual's precise steps, the necessary materials, and suitable vessels. Like a ghost, he wandered the castle at night, using the Mirror's sensitivity to powerful magical traces—claiming it was simply its detection ability—to search for places that might conceal ancient, powerful objects brimming with negative energy. They would make perfect containers for fragments of his soul.
His obsession and increasingly dark aura even affected their little circle. Avery and Rosier became quieter and more obedient, their eyes holding a trace of instinctive fear whenever they looked at Tom. Even Abraxas Malfoy privately voiced a veiled concern to Ares. "Tom lately... seems overly focused on certain fields."
Ares understood perfectly, but he could not stop him. Every attempt to pull Tom back into "safe" territory brought an even colder scrutiny from Tom, along with the unspoken implication: You don't understand me either? He felt as though he stood at the edge of a chasm, watching Tom walk farther and farther away on the other side while the bridge connecting them became increasingly precarious.
It was then that Katarin Vol, the Durmstrang exchange student, demonstrated her value once again. During a practical Dark Magic Defense class, Bilierce Black of Gryffindor tried to disrupt Katarin in a sparring exercise with a provocative gesture he had seen in his family's collection of books and had not properly practiced. In certain Eastern European Dark Magic traditions, the gesture carried an extremely insulting meaning.
Katarin's eyes instantly became as cold as a Siberian wind. She did not use her wand, nor did she chant a spell. She merely raised a hand, her fingers slightly spread, and an invisible blast of icy magic lashed at Bilierce like a whip. Bilierce cried out and staggered backward. A brief red mark appeared on his face. Though the physical injury was slight, the cold malice contained within that magic instantly drained all color from his face.
"At Durmstrang," Katarin said, lowering her hand, her tone calm yet piercingly cold, "we don't use children's tricks. If you want to provoke someone, use your strength."
The entire room fell silent. Even the professor froze for a moment before stepping forward to check on Bilierce. Tom stood to one side, but his eyes gleamed with admiration. What Katarin had displayed was not merely power, but an efficient, ruthless way of doing things that he greatly appreciated.
After class, Tom took the initiative to find Katarin.
"A very clean and decisive method, Miss Vol," Tom praised, his tone carrying equal respect.
Katarin studied him, her black eyes appraising. "Thank you, Mr. Riddell. It seems Hogwarts is not entirely filled with greenhouse flowers."
"Of course not." Tom smiled. "Some people are born for broader, more... real stages. I believe we can find common ground."
He extended an invitation to her—not to join his gradually forming "inner circle," but to establish a more flexible alliance based on shared interests and mutual recognition of strength. He hinted that certain "conservative" forces at Hogwarts—an indirect reference to Dumbledore—were restricting the growth of those with true talent, and mentioned that he was "exploring" certain "ancient paths" capable of breaking those restrictions.
Katarin was clearly intrigued by the vision Tom painted. At Durmstrang, she had grown accustomed to rules where strength reigned supreme. Tom's ambition and the potential he displayed aligned perfectly with her own pursuit of power.
"That sounds interesting." She did not immediately make a promise, but her stance was clear. "I hate boredom and restraints."
Tom knew he had found a potentially powerful executor. Katarin's background and methods made her exceptionally suited to handling certain... matters that were not convenient for him to address personally.
However, just as Tom believed things were beginning to proceed as he had expected, an unforeseen interruption occurred. One evening, while Ares was alone in the library consulting reference materials, he ran into Katarin again. She seemed to have just finished discussing Eastern European magical systems with the Charms professor.
"Phoenix." Katarin stopped him, her tone direct. "What are you and Riddell researching?"
Ares became wary, though his expression remained unchanged. "Many things. Magic is always full of unknowns, isn't it?"
Katarin stepped closer, her sharp gaze sweeping over his face, particularly those mismatched eyes. "I can sense it. There's an... unusual magical fluctuation lingering around you two. It isn't just powerful. It also carries an... ancient, restrained force." She paused, lowering her voice. "Riddell is pursuing something dangerous, and you... you are trying to keep it in balance, aren't you?"
Ares's heart sank sharply. Katarin's perception far exceeded his expectations. She had not only sensed Tom's involvement with Dark Magic, but had even vaguely detected the role Ares was playing.
"I don't understand what you mean, Miss Vol." Ares maintained his calm.
Katarin smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "There is no need to be nervous. I only mean that sometimes, an overly powerful light needs shadows to reveal itself. And sometimes, the shadows themselves may possess a will of their own." She gave Ares a meaningful look, then turned and left.
Her words rang through Ares's mind like an alarm bell. Katarin was not a simple pawn Tom could use as he pleased. She was extraordinarily perceptive, possessed judgment of her own, and seemed... more interested in the "shadow" represented by Ares beneath Tom's "light."
Tom accelerated down the path of darkness. Katarin, an unexpected variable with goals of her own, had entered the game, while Dumbledore's gaze followed them like a shadow. Standing in the eye of the storm, Ares felt the ropes maintaining the balance snap one by one. Tom was preparing a forbidden ritual, Katarin watched hungrily from the sidelines, and the secret of Ares's own bloodline was like a volcano on the verge of eruption. As the end of their second year approached, a storm capable of changing everything was brewing.
Before you continue