Serpentine [T.M. Riddle]

Static

A true compliment. He plays humble, "To be thought of as alike to Merlin is an absolute honor. I only hope I can achieve an eighth of his brilliance within my lifetime."

"A noble goal, Mister Riddle." An easy one. They'll be giving Orders of Tom awards in a few years time. "Now, onto more serious matters,"

This time, the light that emanates from the wand is a minty, seafoam green, and the memory associated with it is his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom: he and Nemesis are exchanging gentle jinxes and protegos--His last spell is an expertly cast stupify. One that could be diagrammed in a textbook. His dark magical signature is all over it, it makes his skin tingle. He's sure it raises a brow or six in the room, even after the magic in the air ceases.

The jade man smiles once more, "Beautifully done stupify, Mister Riddle, you could give a lot of duelists a run for their money." Ahuh. He turns to the court, speaks more about how talented and skilled warlocks are getting rarer and rarer these days, and how tragic it would have been if Mister Riddle's life had been cut short by that slicing hex. How, in his short time in the hospital wing, he had managed to become buried in gifts and well-wishes, so much so that the staff had to store some away to make sure the area wasn't so crowded. He's beloved! A treasure! He can tell he's making the older gentlemen with sons at Hogwarts a little bitter. Heh. It's laying it on thicker than he was for Ximena...Probably easier to curve public opinion around a witch who was no threat to their pure world...He, however, probably rings a bell of uncertainty for them...It's the reason he's been so aware of his own magical aura this entire evening: he can't feel out for her magic, her mood, without alerting the whole room of what he was doing. Could be seen as a threat, apparently. Even if he could pass it off as something unconscious, done out of concern for Ximena, it would be an incredible invasion of privacy for others to witness. Damn. If only he could turn his head and look at her directly. Probably would be met with a withering glare, one worse than the one she first gave him that first week of school...That one was a glare of suspicion, but this one would be more loaded. A canon instead of a bow and arrow.

"--the student all your professors said that Miss Lane was close with, the best and brightest, am I correct in my assumption that that student is yourself, Mister Riddle?"

Obviously, "I wouldn't want to jump to that supposition, but I know I am the closest with Ximena out of all of our housemates." Barring, just perhaps, the buffoon and possibly Eric. Adam doesn't count.

"Indeed! To call an upperclassman by their given name is a bond not often experienced by many second years--How long have you two been on given name basis?"

"About the end of my first month at Hogwarts--" ...Should he? He should. "--I noticed she didn't like being referred to as Lane."

Interest spikes in the room, the back of his spine tingles with cool magic, "Why do you think that is?"

He doesn't think, he knows, "Lane is a foundling name and has no ties to her--It's a name that the Muggles who found her gave her...Rather unceremoniously, I presume. I don't believe she wishes to be associated with it."

This is the right answer. Of course it's the right answer--He pays attention to these things. It's good that a Slytherin boy takes such care and consideration of his fellow student, and it's even better that this foundling child wants nothing to do with a family name given to her by Muggles...Of course, Ximena doesn't mind Muggles, but the true Slytherins in this court don't have to know that. All they need to know is that Ximena is one of them.

Her representative touches his hand to his chest, touched, "Perfectly understandable--To not have an earned name, inherited from your family, is surely filled with terrible trials and tribulations. Without your history and lineage, what does one have?"