The portal had barely closed behind them when the air shifted—thicker here, heady with strange perfumes and a tang of something electric. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins clustered together in their neat Hogwarts robes, a wall of order and calculation placed against the hypnotic chaos of Monster High’s kaleidoscopic halls. Marble green and navy blues pressed against blacks, silvers, and flashes of neon; lineage and tradition staring down rebellion and glittering oddity.

Tom Riddle stood at the edge of the Slytherins, eyes sharper than the rest, studying every Monster High student who dared to stare back at them. He catalogued them with effortless precision—the unnatural hues of their skin, the sharpness of their teeth, each telltale twitch of wings, tail, or claw. They were fascinating, he admitted quietly to himself, in the way dangerous things always were. And they were watching the Hogwarts delegation just as intently, whispers running like wildfire between the monster girls lined across the lockers: their accents, their posture, the air of superiority that Hogwarts didn’t bother hiding.

The Ravenclaws shifted awkwardly, but the Slytherins thrived under the scrutiny. Shoulders squared, gazes unwavering, green silk lining catching the glow of the gothic chandeliers above. It felt like a silent duel already, sparks humming in the tight space between the two groups. Every brush of fabric and sweep of eyes was a statement, laden with equal parts curiosity and challenge.

Somewhere in the crowd, a ghoul tilted her head and smiled, her fangs catching the dim light as they landed squarely on one of the boys. He straightened reflexively, as though pulled tighter by an invisible leash, the staring contest stretching into something heavier, almost illicit. Elsewhere, Tom’s gaze lingered longer than necessary on a winged figure half-hidden among the lockers, her pale plumage bright against the dark backdrop. She was watching him too—and he found the idea of mutual obsession more intoxicating than alarming.

No words were exchanged, not really. None needed to be. The energy that hung over the meeting was heavier than smoke, threaded by fascination laced with heat. Hogwarts and Monster High had been forced into each other’s world, and though no rules had yet been written, every eye and every silence that passed between them said the same thing. This was not just an exchange. It was the beginning of something far more dangerous—and far more thrilling.