Chapter Two
Chapter Two: The Serpent’s Call
The following days at Hogwarts were a blur of new experiences, faces, and challenges. The vast stone hallways, the creaking staircases, the portraits that seemed to shift their gaze when no one was looking—everything was both familiar and foreign at once. Orion Black, or Harry Potter, depending on which part of him you listened to, was trying to reconcile this new life with the fragments of memories that still clung to him, like the remnants of a dream slipping away as dawn broke.
Slytherin House felt like the perfect fit. There was a coolness in the air, a sharp sense of purpose that matched his quiet demeanor. The boys in the common room eyed him with a mixture of curiosity and respect. After all, his name carried weight, and his quiet intelligence was already earning him the regard of those who knew how to play the game of ambition.
But it wasn’t the other students that intrigued him most—it was Tom Riddle.
Orion couldn’t shake the feeling that something lurked beneath Tom’s composed exterior, something dangerous, but also deeply fascinating. Riddle was everything he had been taught to distrust. He was cunning, manipulative, and ruthlessly intelligent. There was no denying the magnetic pull he held over people, the way he could charm even the most hardened minds with a smile or a few carefully chosen words.
Their first real encounter came in the Slytherin common room late one evening. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows on the stone walls, as the rest of the housemates drifted off to their dormitories, leaving Orion alone with his thoughts.
A soft click of the door echoed in the silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Orion’s sharp gaze snapped to the entrance, and there stood Tom, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the corridor.
"You’re alone," Tom remarked, his voice smooth as silk, though there was an edge to it—an undertone of something more dangerous than mere curiosity.
Orion didn’t rise from his chair. He simply regarded Tom with a look that spoke volumes. "I prefer solitude," he replied coolly, his tone unbothered, though the faintest flicker of something—apprehension or interest—betrayed him for a fraction of a second.
Tom smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, a smile that was both unsettling and undeniably charming. He walked across the room, his steps quiet, predatory even. "I’ve heard a lot about you, Orion," he said, his voice dropping lower, as if sharing a secret. "The Black family—prestigious, powerful... but there’s something about you that stands out even more than your bloodline."
Orion didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to study Tom with the same intensity. The boy was dangerous, yes, but Orion understood danger. He had lived through it in another life—seen it, breathed it, and come out the other side.
"Your reputation precedes you as well," Orion finally said, his tone measured. "Riddle. A boy with ambition that could shatter the world."
Tom’s smile widened, though there was a sharpness to it now, a flicker of something darker in his eyes. "Ambition," he echoed, almost mockingly, before walking closer. "Ambition is what drives us, isn’t it? What separates the strong from the weak. And you, Orion, are not weak."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. There was no pretense, no mask of civility now. Tom was speaking plainly, his intentions clear.
Orion’s fingers flexed, the desire to act, to respond in kind, swirling in him like a storm. But he restrained himself, reminded of the delicate balance he was trying to maintain. In this life, power was not something you rushed towards; it was something you cultivated slowly, carefully. And Tom Riddle, for all his brilliance, was a force that could either pull him in or tear him apart.
"What do you want, Riddle?" Orion asked, his voice steady, betraying none of the intrigue he felt.
Tom paused, his eyes gleaming in the firelight as if savoring the moment. "I want to know if you are as interesting as they say you are," he said cryptically, his voice soft, though the meaning of his words was clear. "The Black family is powerful, yes, but it is not the only family with potential."
Orion arched a brow, sensing the subtle challenge in Tom’s words. "And you think you can shape that potential?"
"I know I can," Tom replied with absolute certainty, as though the idea of failure never even occurred to him. He stepped back slightly, as if weighing his next words. "There are those who will rise to the top—those who will rule this world—and those who will remain in the shadows, hiding behind old bloodlines. The question is: which one will you be?"
Orion’s gaze narrowed. He understood now. Tom wasn’t simply speaking of ambition—he was speaking of power in its purest, most dangerous form. To Tom, the world was a game, a chessboard where only the most cunning survived. And he wanted Orion to be a part of that game, whether Orion was ready or not.
"You’re bold," Orion said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "But it’s one thing to desire power, and another to know how to wield it."
Tom’s eyes sparkled with amusement, though there was something else there too—something darker. "We’ll see, won’t we?"
For a long moment, the two boys stood in silence, the fire crackling between them. There was an understanding now, an unspoken bond formed in the quietest of exchanges. They were not enemies, not yet. But they were no allies either.
"I’ll be watching you, Orion Black," Tom said as he turned to leave, his voice trailing off like a promise or a threat.
Orion remained still, his eyes never leaving Tom’s retreating figure. There was something about the boy that intrigued him—something both dangerous and intoxicating. They were two forces, drawn together by a mutual hunger for power, each one waiting for the other to make the first move.
And so, with the shadows of the castle stretching long and deep around him, Orion knew that his path was set. The dance between him and Tom had begun, and there was no turning back now.
In the end, only one of them could emerge victorious. The question was: who would it be?