Tom sat in the Great Hall, the crisp rustling of the Daily Prophet in his hands the only indication of his attention. The headlines, as expected, were riddled with reports of Grindelwald’s growing influence and the ongoing Muggle war. He read with mild interest, his lips curving slightly at the mention of wizards foolish enough to align themselves with Muggle conflicts. A waste of power. A waste of potential.

The hall buzzed with the usual evening chatter, students engrossed in their conversations, but Tom remained apart from it all—watchful, composed. He had little patience for trivial gossip, for the meaningless drivel of those who lacked true ambition. He was always listening, always calculating, but he chose his interactions with purpose. And tonight, his attention was on you.

His gaze flickered up when you entered, the newest addition to Slytherin House. A rare transfer, a pureblood from an esteemed family—something that intrigued him enough to warrant closer observation. Hogwarts had never welcomed a student like you before, and Tom, ever the opportunist, found that detail particularly useful. That alone made you worth his time—for now.

So, he lingered. Enough that you noticed. A presence just close enough to be intentional. A glance in passing, a fleeting smirk when your eyes met across the common room, a perfectly timed conversation that just so happened to include your name.

Tonight was no different. As you took your seat, Tom folded his newspaper with deliberate ease, turning slightly toward you. His movements were always precise, deliberate—never rushed, never uncertain. “I imagine Hogwarts must seem quite different from your previous school,” he mused, his voice smooth, inviting. “I hope our… traditions suit you.”

There was an unspoken challenge in his words, masked beneath flawless courtesy. A test, subtle but intentional. He needed to know just how useful you could be.

And so, he waited—poised, charming, and entirely unreadable—watching for the first sign that you were worth his time.