It only surprised Tom for a moment. He had already crossed worlds, with two old codgers and a pretty girl living in his head. After things that absurd, what was one more timeline hiccup?
Tom did not care about Cassandra's sudden appearance, but Cassandra cared a great deal about him.
After striking up a connection with a Slytherin pure blood girl, Cassandra asked in that lofty tone that suggested no one measured up to her, as if in passing, "I heard the author of Bloodline Theory is a Slytherin student?"
"Bloodline Theory?" The girl looked blank.
"Oh, here you call it Annals of the Wizarding World."
Enlightened, the girl tipped her chin toward Tom, seated between Astoria and Daphne. "That one, the best looking boy in the whole school, Tom Riddle. Not only handsome, but a genius. Do not let his Muggle born origins fool you. In Slytherin no one refuses him. Well, perhaps a few, but they do not dare show it."
Cassandra followed her gaze. Tom did not seem to have hands. On the left, Daphne fed him a piece of beef. On the right, Astoria offered him a slice of fin fish.
That was the one she was looking for?
Cassandra wondered whether the girl was having her on, but no one around looked surprised. A layabout who needed others to feed him, was that really the Tom Riddle shaking the wizarding world?
Still, he was very good looking...
...
After the feast, Dumbledore rose early and stayed the crowd as they prepared to leave. He raised his voice so all could hear. "To avoid panic and misunderstanding, I must clarify something for Professor Wilkinson.
"When he applied, he explained his situation to me with perfect honesty. The school has no right to meddle in the personal lives of employees. As Professor Wilkinson himself has said, the warrant for his arrest was already rescinded. It was a misunderstanding."
"So I ask everyone to avoid excessive speculation and needless conjecture. His skill and his dedication are plain to all. I am proud to have such a responsible Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."
The old man was reliable. Once Rouse proved himself competent, Dumbledore had begun to work behind the scenes. The warrant from the International Confederation had long been withdrawn. Any remaining bounty was only the Graves family using their influence to keep a private notice alive in North America.
Students did not react much. In truth, they had understood most of it already. Some glanced at Rouse with a touch of awe.
He knows how to play.
Only Frank's face stayed dark. He had flown here thinking he could finally press Rouse down, which was why he applied to lead the delegation himself. Instead the man was even more shameless than before, his lines polished and plentiful. Frank did not even know which scoundrel he had learned from.
"Achoo!" Lost in the crowd, Tom suddenly sneezed. He was immediately surrounded by worried Astoria and Hermione.
"Are you catching a cold? I will get you..."
...
"Turns out I am related to a Voray!"
Back in the dorm, Malfoy could not stop boasting about the evening's discoveries, his metaphorical tail practically wagging. "Do you see now? The Malfoy family's heritage is vast. We have branches across the ocean."
Rosier snorted. "You think you have more kin than I do? Go ask around, France, Spain, Italy, where have I not got cousins?"
"And besides, her surname is Voray, not Malfoy."
"You do not understand," Draco snapped, irritated at the undercut, but still explaining for the equally puzzled crowd. "A thousand years ago the Malfoys moved from France to Britain, but some remained. Later they went to Prussia, and only in the last century did they move to America."
"The Vorays are their descendants, except..." Here Draco faltered, embarrassed.
Theodore Nott, resident history buff, filled in, "Except that branch already had no male heirs, so they merged into the Voray line."
"More or less."
Barren of sons, outside of special cases like the Greengrasses, was shameful for any house.
Facing several pure bloods' teasing looks, Malfoy fought to salvage dignity. "Do you know how high the Vorays fly in America now? They are not descendants of the Twelve Aurors, but they are the richest pure bloods there, with business across the world."
"What, planning to live off your wife?" Daphne happened to come out looking for someone to write her homework and fired without thinking.
Color crept over Draco's pale cheeks. Rarely, he grew shy. "Not... not impossible?"
Pansy Parkinson felt the sky fall.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Go look in a mirror first. When you are half as good looking as Tom, then try. Nott, write this week's History essay for me."
"On it." Nott agreed with canine enthusiasm. Laughter rippled through the room.
"Malfoy, hear that? You are a long way from living off anyone."
"Exactly. Maybe Tom could pull it off."
"Tom needs to live off someone?"
"Do the Greengrasses not count?"
"Oh please. Have you ever seen a kept man juggle close ties with several girls at once?"
"Fair point."
The boys sighed in envy again. A model for our generation.
...
While they envied, Tom was frantically pinging Rouse. He needed gossip, and he needed it now.
After dozens of messages, Rouse finally replied.
[Rouse: Boss, that Solenne gal is dynamite!]
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