Approval
The castle was silent at this hour, with only the sound of their footsteps echoing around them. their dim wand light guided their way as Harry and Hermione moved through the dark corridors.
“Are you sure about this?” Harry murmured as they reached the entrance to the library.
“We don’t have a choice. If we want to blend in we have to do this”. She whispered back. Harry had no argument for that so he just sighed and followed her inside.
The air was thick with the scent of ink and parchment. Shelves looming over them.
she pulled out her wand and pointed it determinedly at the lock. “Alohamora”. She sighed in relief as the door silently swung open.
“I wonder why they even bother locking it at this point”. Harry chuckled. Hermione laughed a bit too “well, I guess they figured that most students wouldn’t know this spell”.
Hermione stepped in, looking around. “We need something covering politics, culture, etiquette, and at least something covering the dark arts. I’m sure we’ll be taking more than one book tonight”. Harry paused, an almost disgusted look on his face.
“Dark arts? Why would we need.. that?” Hermione glanced at him before moving towards the shelf. “We need to know as much as we can if we want to infiltrate their little murder group. And you know that we won’t use them anyways”.
Harry nodded, his eyes never leaving the shelf. “I guess you’re right. Oh, here’s one about etiquette”. He reached up and grabbed it, turning to see the name. “The pureblood child’s guide to proper etiquette,” he huffs “well that was easy, now we just need culture, politics, and dark arts”.
He looked over to see Hermione skimming a book called The Noble Book of Wizarding Politics. “This is perfect for politics”. She acquiesces, reluctantly placing it in her bag.
They search for anything covering culture and dark arts. Finding two about the dark arts and one about the culture.
They placed them in Hermione's bag and made towards the door. “Ah, I had wondered whether I would catch you too sneaking about. And so soon already, it’s only your first night here”. Tom Riddle says, a charismatic smile on his face; though holding a curious tilt to it.
“Yes, we figured we would at least do something interesting in this new school”. Harry responded, his tone casual. Riddle nods. “Since it is your first time here I’ll go ahead and let you both go”. His smile drops into a smirk “just make sure you don’t do anything.. dangerous”.
He turned and walked out, leaving them confused and shocked.
“He’s interested. We need to be careful”. Harry sighed. “If he’s interested, we’re doing something right at least. let’s just go to the common room and we can look these over”. She responds
---
The common felt different in the afternoon. Less shrouded in darkness, but no less dangerous. The towering bookshelves, the flickering fire, the groups of students engaged in hushed conversations—it all felt as if the very walls held secrets.
Hermione had expected the house to be ruthless, full of sharp tongues and sharper minds, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely.
As she and Harry made their way deeper into the room, she felt the weight of watchful eye’s on them. They weren’t just new. They were unknown variables.
And in Slytherin, unknowns were either opportunities.. or threats.
The center of the room was, predictably, Tom Riddle. He was surrounded by a mix of younger and older students. Each behaving as if he were the king and they were his loyal subjects.
She recognized Abraxas Malfoy immediately, his almost white-blond hair, handsome features, and the particular kind of arrogance only a Malfoy could wear so effortlessly. He leaned forward in his chair as he noticed her, a playful smirk across his face.
Next to him, Alphard Black sat in a similar position, though his dark eyes held a sharper, more amused glint. He was studying them like a puzzle he had yet to solve. Beside him, Cassiopeia Black sat perfectly, the very image of cold elegance, her expression unreadable.
And then there was Cassius Nott. Silently watching them. Fingers locked together as he studied them.
Tom was the first to acknowledge them. He looked up, dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “Ah,” he murmured, closing his book with an elegant flick of his wrist. “Our newest additions. Come.”
The conversation around them quieted.
It wasn’t a request.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a worried glance before stepping forward. Don’t hesitate, Hermione reminded herself. Hesitation is weakness.
They sat down.
“Quite the rare sight,” Alphard Black remarked, his tone casual, but laced with curiosity. He examined them with an almost lazy amusement, though his gaze was sharp. “Transfers into Slytherin? And fifth-years, no less?” He smirked. “We don’t often get surprises here.”
Hermione kept her expression neutral, but her mind was already calculating. He’s testing us. Probing.
Cassiopeia Black tilted her head slightly. “Interesting, isn’t it?” Her voice was smooth, measured, but the scrutiny in her gaze was unmistakable. “Two students from Beauxbatons, both sorted into our house… That hardly seems coincidental.”
Hermione met her gaze without flinching. “Beauxbatons values ambition just as much as Hogwarts does,” she said smoothly, adjusting the sleeve of her robe. “Perhaps in a different way, but the results are the same.”
Cassiopeia’s lips curled at the answer. Approval? Amusement? It was difficult to tell.
Cassius Nott finally spoke, his voice calm, but pointed. “And what of your family?” he asked, watching them with an intensity that made Hermione’s skin prickle. “I admit, I don’t know much of the Proulx lineage.”
Hermione had expected this. But she hadn’t expected Harry to step in so soon.
“Our family spent time abroad,” Harry answered lightly, maintaining a polite, composed air. “Our father was French, but our mother’s line has older British roots. She wanted us to receive a more… traditional magical education.”
Cassius hummed thoughtfully, seemingly satisfied with the answer. For now.
A soft chuckle came from Abraxas. His pale fingers traced absent patterns on the arm of his chair as he regarded her. “A wise decision,” he murmured. His voice was smooth, almost pleasant, but there was an unmistakable weight to his gaze, like he was assessing her.. measuring what kind of creature she was.
The feeling made Hermione’s spine stiffen. There was a dangerous sort of charm about him, and she wasn’t sure yet whether it was meant to entice or warn. Then something hit her.
His supposed interest in her could be useful.
Alphard smirked. “And what do you think of Hogwarts so far?”
Harry leaned back in his chair, arms draped over the armrests in an easy but controlled posture. His lips curved slightly.
“I’d say it’s… promising.”
The word was chosen carefully. It carried just the right edge of intrigue—an acknowledgment of potential, without revealing too much.
A few chuckles echoed through the group.
Tom Riddle, who had been observing, finally spoke. “I imagine the transition has been interesting,” he mused. His tone was slow, deliberate. “New school, new faces… new opportunities.”
His gaze landed on Harry, dark and unreadable.
Hermione felt the air in the room shift slightly. This wasn’t idle conversation anymore.
This was a game. A dangerous one.
And they had just taken their first step onto the board.
---
The weight of the room had shifted.
Harry could feel it, the air thick with scrutiny as Tom Riddle’s dark eyes locked onto his.
New opportunities.
The words lingered, deceptively casual. But Harry knew better. Riddle never said anything without meaning.
This was a test.
Harry forced himself to look casual, sinking further into the chair, adopting the same poised, effortless confidence that so many purebloods seemed to give off. His fingers drummed against the armrest, his body language relaxed, but not too relaxed. Controlled. Calculated.
He met Riddle’s gaze evenly, keeping his expression neutral. “It certainly seems that way,” he murmured, as if they were discussing something as simple as the weather.
A flicker of something passed through Riddle’s eyes. Interest? Amusement? Approval?
Harry wasn’t sure yet.
The others were still watching. Cassius Nott was observing the exchange with quiet intensity, his expression unreadable. Alphard Black looked entertained. Cassiopeia Black, though silent, had the faintest hint of a smirk on her lips. Like she had already decided this was going to be fun.
And then there was Abraxas Malfoy.
Harry didn’t like the way the other boy’s gaze lingered on Hermione. It wasn’t leering, exactly. More like a calculated assessment, like he was trying to decide whether she was worth his attention. His fingers tapped against his knee, his head tilted slightly, studying her in a way that made Harry’s muscles tense.
Hermione, to her credit, didn’t waver. She met Abraxas’s gaze with composed politeness, her expression unreadable. But Harry knew her—he could see the slight stiffness in her shoulders, the tension in her fingers where they rested on the arm of the chair.
She was uncomfortable.
And he didn’t like that one bit.
His instinct was to do something—to interfere, to pull her out of Malfoy’s focus. But he couldn’t. Not here. Not yet. They were playing a dangerous game, and one wrong move could send them plummeting into a situation they weren’t prepared for.
Riddle leaned back slightly, steepling his fingers together. “Tell me,” he said, his voice deceptively light, “how do you find the curriculum here compared to Beauxbatons? I know you’ve only had to look at the books, what with you both arriving during the holidays”.
Another test.
Harry knew better than to answer too quickly. He let the silence stretch just long enough to suggest thoughtfulness before speaking.
“Different,” he admitted. “Beauxbatons emphasized refinement and presentation, but Hogwarts curriculum is more… practical.” He let his lips curve slightly. “More useful.”
There. A subtle compliment. An acknowledgment that he valued the magic taught here. That he saw the power in it.
Riddle’s gaze darkened slightly, his interest sharpening.
Harry felt the shift in the room again, almost imperceptible. A thread of intrigue had been woven between them.
“You value usefulness, then?” Riddle asked, voice smooth.
Harry met his gaze. Held it. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Silence.
And then—
A slow, approving smile spread across Riddle’s lips.
Harry’s stomach twisted, but he kept his own expression carefully neutral.
That had been the right answer.
Cassius Nott chuckled quietly, breaking the tension. “I think I like this one,” he murmured, tilting his head toward Harry.
Alphard smirked. “Surprising, since you hardly like anyone”.
Cassiopeia merely studied Harry for another moment before turning her attention to Hermione. “And you?” she asked smoothly. “What do you think of Hogwarts?”
Hermione tilted her head slightly, considering. Harry knew she had already planned her response, but she made a show of thinking it over, as if she were just now forming her opinion.
“It has… potential,” she said at last.
Abraxas chuckled. “Ah,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her. “I knew I liked you.” His voice a soft purr as he appraised her
Harry clenched his jaw slightly but didn’t react otherwise.
He was beginning to realize something: Abraxas Malfoy was going to be a problem.
Not because he was cruel, not yet, at least. But because he was interested in Hermione.
And Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Hermione had been at his side for years, his closest friend, his partner in every battle they’d fought. And after her messy break up with Ron, they had gotten even closer. She was brilliant, sharp, and relentless when she set her mind to something. And here, in this time, in this house, she was already drawing the attention of people like Malfoy.
It made sense, he supposed.
But it didn’t mean he had to like it.
Riddle finally stood, his movement deliberate. The group immediately quieted, their attention shifting to him. Even here, among his supposed equals, they still looked up to him. An unspoken acknowledgment of his authority.
“We’ll see how well you both adjust,” Riddle said, his gaze sweeping over them once more. “I expect great things.”
Harry exhaled slowly as the others began to rise, the conversation shifting into something more casual. The moment of scrutiny had passed—for now.
But as Riddle walked away, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that they had just taken the first step into something dangerous.
And there was no turning back