Pendant and Accomplice

Over the next two days, life at the orphanage settled into an eerie calm. Tom didn't initiate conversation with Ares again, but the cold scrutiny and deliberate distance faded. A delicate balance formed between them: they ate at the same table, lived in the same room, yet maintained silence, communicating only through glances and subtle gestures.

[Host, the target seems to have entered 'observation mode' (′?_?`). He's secretly studying you!]

The system was right. Ares could feel Tom's obsidian-like eyes lingering on him when he least expected it, with a focus bordering on academic dissection, as if trying to thoroughly analyze this "anomalous sample."

Ares wasn't in a hurry. Mindful of the "non-verbal interaction" task, he patiently waited for his chance.

On the first day, while distributing dinner, he quietly used his spoon to nudge the only piece of soft, boiled carrot from his own bowl to the edge of Tom's when no one was looking. Tom paused, his gaze sweeping over the orange vegetable, then flicking to Ares with a flash of surprise. He said nothing, silently eating the carrot.

[(???) Non-verbal effective interaction (2/3)! Well done, host! Feeding successful!]

On the second day, during their so-called "outdoor activity"—really just being kicked outside to fend for themselves—Tom gravitated toward his usual secluded corner, where discarded bricks and stones were piled. Ares followed, not approaching, but finding his own rock to sit on nearby. He pulled a small piece of chalk he'd secretly stashed (from the system space, actually) and quietly began drawing on the flat stone surface.

He sketched Hogwarts Castle under a night sky, its towers rising high, warm light glowing from the windows. Though the strokes were childish, the outline was recognizable.

Tom initially ignored him, but his peripheral vision caught the familiar castle silhouette, and his body stiffened almost imperceptibly. He recognized that place—it had appeared in his fragmented dreams about being "different." He whipped his head around, eyes sharp on Ares and his drawing.

Ares didn't look up. He focused on adding a final stroke for a star, then gently wiped the castle image away with his finger, as if it were just a random, meaningless doodle. He stood, dusted off his hands, gave Tom a faint, almost invisible smile, and walked away.

Tom stood there, staring at the smudged stone, then at Ares's retreating back, his brow deeply furrowed. Seeds of doubt took root in his heart, mixed with an indescribable thrill at having his deepest secret touched.

[Ding! (???) Non-verbal effective interaction (3/3)! Task "Silent Alliance" complete! Reward: Beginner Physique Enhancement (Stabilized), Gold Coins x5 issued! Host feeling stronger, right?]

Feeling the slight surge of vitality within him, Ares breathed a sigh of relief. Three steps done; the ice was broken.

But the calm shattered on the afternoon of the third day.

Ares was in the washroom helping with rags when the system suddenly blared an alarm in his mind.

[Alert! Alert! (╯°Д°)╯︵ /(.□ . ) Target in emergency! Severe emotional fluctuation! Magic risk of going out of control! Location: Dormitory!]

Ares's heart tightened. He dropped what he was doing and hurried back to the dormitory. As he pushed open the door, he saw Tom with his back to the entrance, trembling slightly with rage. His bed was a mess, drawers yanked open, small items scattered everywhere.

And Albert, the ringleader from before, stood smugly in the center of the room, holding something aloft—an old, antique silver pendant, engraved with some kind of crest.

"Look what I found, Riddle? You're a thief! Did you steal this from some lady? Or did your crazy mom leave it to you?" Albert jeered maliciously, a few other boys watching for entertainment.

Tom spun around, his face twisted with a cold murderous intent Ares had never seen before. His eyes were terrifyingly dark, the air around him distorting, and an empty cup on the table cracked with a strained sound, fissures spreading.

"Give it back." Tom's voice was low and terrifying, each word squeezed through gritted teeth.

"Give it back? I'm taking it to Mrs. Cole! Let's see what happens to you, freak!" Albert was emboldened, convinced Tom wouldn't dare use "witchcraft" in front of so many.

Ares knew he couldn't let this continue. Tom's magic was on the verge of losing control; if it erupted, the consequences would be dire, and it would cement his reputation as a "monster."

He took a deep breath. Instead of using magic directly like last time, he strode in quickly, walking straight up to Albert under everyone's astonished gaze.

"Albert," Ares said, his voice not loud but exceptionally clear, "You broke Mrs. Cole's favorite vase. Aren't you afraid she'll find out?"

Albert froze, instinctively retorting, "What are you talking about? When did I..."

"Just now, in the backyard," Ares interrupted, his heterochromatic eyes calm but carrying an undeniable force, "I saw it. You kicked the ball onto the windowsill, the vase fell and shattered, and you kicked the pieces into the grass."

He spoke with conviction, the details vivid. It was, of course, a complete fabrication—material the system had just scanned from the backyard and fed him as "improvisation material."

Albert's face changed instantly. Mrs. Cole did have a cherished vase on the backyard windowsill, and he had been kicking a ball there today... Could he have accidentally...? Panic set in.

"You, you're lying!" Albert's voice wavered.

"Am I lying? Let's go check," Ares said flatly. "Or we can go tell Mrs. Cole right now and see who she believes—someone who might have broken her vase and lied, or us?" He emphasized "us," his gaze sweeping meaningfully over Tom.

It was a blatant threat and trade-off.

Albert looked at Ares's eyes, which seemed to see through everything, then at Tom beside him, whose gaze was icy and ready to pounce. A chill ran down his spine. He weighed it—risking punishment for a broken vase over a worthless, mysterious pendant? Not worth it.

"Hmph! Lucky you!" Albert blustered, throwing the pendant to the ground in disgust. He and the other boys, equally uneasy, hurried out of the dormitory, likely rushing to check on the vase.

Only Ares and Tom remained.

Tom didn't immediately pick up the pendant. He first glared at the door, ensuring Albert and the others were truly gone, then slowly turned his gaze to Ares. His eyes were a storm of emotions—shock, confusion, scrutiny, and a hint of embarrassment at having his most treasured possession exposed.

Ares said nothing. He walked over, bent down, and picked up the small silver pendant. It was cold to the touch, carrying a faint trace of Tom's magic fluctuation. He held it out to Tom.

Tom didn't take it right away. He looked at Ares's open palm, at the pendant that meant so much to him, then back at Ares's calm heterochromatic eyes.

Silence stretched between them.

After several seconds, Tom reached out, almost snatching the pendant from Ares's hand, clutching it tightly in his fist, knuckles white from the strain. It was his mother's only keepsake, his sole, fragile link to the magical world he both hated and secretly yearned for.

"Why did you help me?" Tom finally spoke, his voice hoarse, carrying a hint of wavering he didn't even notice. He no longer asked "What did you do?" but "Why?"

Ares looked at him, knowing this was a critical moment. He raised his hand again, not gesturing, but pointing to Tom's hand gripping the pendant, then to his own heart, and finally, he brought his two fingers together, making that "together" sign.

This time, his gaze was utterly serious.

We're the same. What you treasure, I'll help protect. We can face it together.

Tom understood. His hand holding the pendant trembled slightly, and the ice in his black eyes seemed to crack a little deeper. He didn't ask further, didn't thank him, just gave Ares a long, deep look, as if etching his image into his mind. Then he turned, carefully hid the pendant again, and silently began tidying his ransacked bed.

But this time, his back no longer seemed so utterly, impenetrably alone.

Ares watched him work and said to the system, "Looks like the 'accomplice' bond is tentatively established."

[Right on, host! (??????)?? You're now buddies who scared off a bully and guarded a secret together! Revolutionary friendship upgraded!]

[New task released: Cornerstone of Trust!]

[Task requirement: Get the target to voluntarily share a secret about himself (ability or background).]

[Task reward: Magic Perception Enhancement, Introduction to Ancient Runes.]

Seeing the difficulty spike, Ares wasn't surprised. Getting Tom Riddle to voluntarily share a secret? That might be the toughest challenge on this nurturing path.

But as he watched Tom's less rigid posture and felt the invisible thread of "shared conspiracy" beginning to bind them, a flicker of confidence rose in his heart.

Great towers rise from the ground. The cornerstone of trust starts with this little pendant, brick by brick.