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Tom doesn't glance up from his book, adjusting his collar as he refuses to acknowledge the elephant in the room- or rather, the two. Two pureblooded, intelligent, arrogant elephants who have taken time from their day to sit at his table in the library.
Brilliant.
“Riddle… I haven't heard much from Nott lately,” Malfoy begins, with a self-important air that demands attention. Tom offers him none.
Black clears his throat, and glances between the two. A smirk plays on his lips in a way that's hardly noticeable, but of course, Tom notices everything. He must.
A moment passes, and a tense feeling radiates from the Malfoy boy. Black clears his throat and coughs, clearly attempting to hold back some sort of snide comment or chuckle. The blonde heir- Abraxas Malfoy, Tom notes in the back of his mind, what an obnoxious name- huffs.
“I'm speaking to you. You ought to pay better attention to your betters,” Malfoy states, clearly awaiting some sort of response or snap.
Tom grants him the mercy of a tired glance, before returning to his less-than-legal book and spitting a retort, “You haven't said anything very attention grabbing as of yet, I'm afraid.”
Malfoy splutters, and Black coughs again, harder. Tom nearly winces at the sound, pulling lightly at his collar once again. Black begins this time, interrupting whatever weak response Malfoy had prepared.
“I apologize, Riddle. What he means is we've noticed a bit of a… following around you. A small group of people who tend to chase after you, doing as you wish for seemingly no reason. We were curious, you see-”
“Curiosity will get you nowhere,” Tom sighs, watching Malfoy's expression as he twirls his wand in his hand (a nervous habit he was working to break. For now, it was a display of power). There was something the blond wasn't saying- something in his eyes screaming and clawing at his throat. Now that is something he could work with. “You seem angry, Malfoy. Don't tell me you think I've bewitched your friend?”
Malfoy's jaw clenches, and the ice in his eyes hardens. He seems to deliberate, likely between “lowering” himself to speak equally with a halfblood, and hexing him with something seriously damaging.
Black- Orion Black, Tom notes once more, a much more sophisticated name- seems to have thrown all pretenses out of the window, leaning back in his chair as he rubs his eyes. He places a calming hand on Malfoy's shoulder, shooting an equally charismatic and exhausted smirk towards Tom and begins, “I told him it was idiotic. Nonetheless, he insisted on figuring out the why. I, personally, am more interested in the who.”
Tom raises an eyebrow, growing oddly intrigued by the boys before him. There's something curious about two Slytherins brave enough to step towards presumed danger. Stupidity backed their actions, yes, but there was power there.
Power Tom wants.
Tom mirrors Black, leaning backwards in his chair only slightly- enough to get a good, long look at the two of them.
“Any good Slytherin knows to follow power,” Tom begins, “any great leader knows when to seize it.”
“What exactly are you insinuating?” Malfoy grits, clearly tired of being spoken over.
“Your friend is a good Slytherin,” Tom replies simply, “and I am happy to indulge him.”
There's a weight behind what he says. A leader, he's calling himself, both open and obviously. He lets them sit in silence for a moment, pondering their next move. Black studies him carefully, and his placating hand seems to be the only thing preventing Malfoy from leaping across the table.
Tom glances at the hand, mind connecting dots and turning gears. A closeness between the two could be useful, he supposes. Hook one, and you'll catch another. Kill two birds with one stone. He turns towards Malfoy, coming to a decision. Catch the bigger fish.
“Perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot here. I don't intend to make an enemy of you, nor do I wish to hurt your friend. In fact, I want nothing more than to watch him succeed. You understand this, of course?”
Malfoy huffs slightly, pulling himself together, “You understand that if you do anything to hurt him, I will-”
“There's no need to worry,” Tom interrupts, flashing his best disarming smile, “I truly do want the best for him- and perhaps, for you as well?”
There's a slight hiss in his voice as he speaks, an undertone barely audible. Malfoy shivers slightly as his and Black's eyes dart towards Tom's collarbone- a place where an electric blue snake has slithered out to. She's one of Tom's favorites, an Insular Pit Viper he picked up from Knockturn. She had been aggressive at first, and fussy quite frequently. With enough treats and reinforcement, however, she had become deliciously obedient. Perhaps it was fate that Malfoy had approached him as he was wearing her today.
Malfoy's eyes shine for a moment, an interested spark nestled neatly between doubt and awe. Black gave a broad grin, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the creature. Tom raises a protective hand to stroke the top of her head.
“Yes, there are abilities I possess which many have seen very little of. One of the most useful of them being Parseltongue.” Tom shoots another smile, much more dangerous, straight at Black. “Best not to get too close. She bites.”
Backing off, Black glances between Malfoy and Tom once again. There's a still sort of silence in the air, and Malfoy swallows harshly. Tom turns his attention to him.
“You could have her, if you'd like.” Tom smiles softly at the surprise on Malfoy's face, a disarming mask meant to soothe. Hook.
“Are you sure? I- ah- I'm not quite sure how to take care of a snake-”
“Something you could work on together, I suppose,” Black cuts in, surprising Tom greatly. Perhaps the man was more useful than he'd thought. As Malfoy stares at the viper with eagerness, Black shoots a discreet wink towards Tom over his shoulder. Line.
“You said she bites?” Malfoy questions, a small waver of uncertainty still present in his voice.
Tom's smile widens, a cheeky grin spreading further across his face, “Only those I tell her to.” Malfoy chuckles, considering his options carefully before nodding.
“Fine, then,” he finally answers, shoulders squared and set, crossing his arms over his chest, “I'll take her.”
Sinker.
Tom's smile stretches impossibly further, and he fiddles with his rings for a moment before reaching his free hand out to shake.
“I think we'll make excellent friends, Malfoy.”
Malfoy takes his hand cautiously, but with enough eagerness even Black seems a bit surprised.
“Perhaps you're not quite as bad as I'd thought, Riddle.”