“I heard that you stand out with your talents” Tom Riddle’s skeptical tone conveyed behind you. His ringed finger emulated against the hourglass’s emerald panes as it resided on the desk. The enchanted glittering sand beginning to flow through.

“-especially in potions class” he persevered, the subtle modicum of inquiry in his tone. Sparing a cursory glance at Professor Slughorn, who was currently engaged with other subsequent students, Tom’s scrutinising gaze held yours. “What’s your name?”