Petunia had watched him for nearly a year. She knew the patterns, the glances, the tiny manipulations. She knew how he tested others, nudged them, prodded at limits he imagined were unbreakable.
But she hadn't yet made herself known. Not fully.
Not until one morning at Wool's Orphanage. The courtyard was quiet, save for the occasional scrape of a wheel or distant laughter. Tom crouched low in the brush at the garden's edge, speaking in soft, deliberate hisses. A thin, dark snake slithered beside him, tongue flicking as it responded.
Petunia paused at the edge of the brush, careful not to make a sound.
Her gray eyes narrowed. Thanks to Multilingual Assimilation, she could understand fragments of the words:
"Find the weak one… Bring it here… Test it."
Her chest tightened. Even now, the boy's instinct to control, to dominate, was surfacing.
She took a careful step forward. "You don't need to do that," she said softly. Not loud. Not demanding. Calm.
The snake froze mid-coil. Tom's head snapped up, eyes dark and sharp.
"You… understand?" he asked, incredulous.
Petunia nodded. "A little," she admitted. "I don't have… the right ancestry to speak it very well."
The snake hissed low, rolling through the words Petunia barely translated:
"She knows… careful… dangerous… watch her."
Tom's lips pressed into a thin line. "Different," he said finally. "You're… different."
"I am," Petunia said, her tone steady but warm. "But that doesn't mean I'll hurt you. And it doesn't mean I'll let myself be manipulated."
For a long moment, Tom just stared. Then he shifted the snake slightly closer, testing her.
"Strike if you dare… no weakness,"
he hissed.
Petunia crouched a little lower, speaking gently to the creature. "Back," she said, her words careful, precise. "Retreat."
The snake recoiled obediently, curling away, flicking its tongue nervously.
Tom's dark eyes narrowed, assessing. Then he tilted his head, almost imperceptibly, and adjusted. No test this time, only quiet acknowledgment.
Petunia felt a faint pulse of relief. She had been seen — and respected — without fear, without aggression, without needing to dominate.
The system's quiet hum echoed approval in her mind.
[MISSION COMPLETE: ESTABLISH NON-COERCIVE BOND
Reward Acquired: +5,000 SC]
[SC Total: 1,941,300]
Petunia stood and stepped back, leaving Tom and the snake to themselves.
She didn't smile; she didn't offer praise. That wasn't the point. Boundaries had been set.
The ledger hummed faintly, its presence a quiet reassurance.
Tom turned back to the brush, snake coiling at his feet. For the first time, he looked over his shoulder, eyes catching Petunia's, measuring her. He didn't smile, but he didn't retreat either.
And that was enough.
Petunia took a deep breath.
For the first time, young Tom Riddle had truly noticed her.
And she had done it without breaking the rules.