The corridor was quieter than most.
Deliberately so.
I stood near one of the tall windows overlooking the Hogwarts grounds, hands resting calmly behind my back as I waited.
Timing mattered.
Positioning mattered.
Everything… mattered.
Footsteps echoed in the distance.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Uncompromising.
I didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Alastor Moody.
Even now—still a student—there was something off about him.
Not unstable.
Alert.
Dangerously so.
He stopped a few feet away from me.
Didn't speak.
Didn't greet.
Watched.
Good.
I turned slowly, meeting his gaze directly.
"Moody."
"Riddle."
No warmth.
No politeness.
Perfect.
"I've been meaning to speak with you," I said calmly.
His eye narrowed slightly.
"Why?"
Direct.
Suspicious.
Already expecting deception.
Interesting.
"Because you're talented," I replied simply.
A pause.
He didn't react outwardly.
But I could feel the shift.
Flattery didn't work on him.
Good.
"That's not an answer," Moody said flatly.
A faint smile touched my lips.
"It's the beginning of one."
Silence.
The tension between us was immediate.
Palpable.
"I've observed you," I continued. "Your awareness. Your instincts. You notice things others don't."
Moody's gaze sharpened.
"And that bothers you?" he asked.
"No."
I stepped slightly closer.
"It interests me."
That… got his attention.
"Most people," I went on, "are predictable. Easy to understand. Easy to control."
A deliberate pause.
"You aren't."
His stance shifted—subtle, but ready.
"Careful, Riddle," he said quietly. "That sounds a lot like you're admitting something."
There it was.
Suspicion.
Sharp. Immediate. Unforgiving.
I let out a soft breath—almost amused.
"Or perhaps," I said, tilting my head slightly, "I'm simply acknowledging reality."
We stood there, staring at one another.
A test.
Not of power.
Of intent.
"You're dangerous," Moody said finally.
Not an accusation.
A conclusion.
I smiled faintly.
"So are you."
Silence again.
Then—
"Get to the point."
Direct as ever.
Good.
"I'm building something," I said.
No lies.
Not yet.
His eyes narrowed.
"What kind of something?"
"A future."
Too vague.
He didn't like that.
"Try again."
A slight pause.
Then—
"A world where strength determines standing," I said evenly. "Not birth. Not politics. Not luck."
That made him hesitate.
Just for a moment.
Interesting.
"You don't believe that," Moody said.
Ah.
There it was.
The problem.
He didn't trust me.
Not my words.
Not my intentions.
Good.
That meant I couldn't manipulate him the usual way.
I had to be…
Honest.
Partially.
"I believe the current system is broken," I said. "I believe powerful individuals should shape the future."
"That sounds a lot like control," Moody replied.
"It sounds like responsibility."
His gaze hardened.
"Or domination."
I didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm it either.
"Call it what you like," I said calmly.
That unsettled him more than denial would have.
"You're hiding something," he said.
Of course I was.
But I let a small, genuine truth slip through.
"I'm planning ahead."
Silence.
Then—
Moody stepped closer.
Not intimidated.
Not cautious.
Confrontational.
"Let me make something clear, Riddle," he said quietly. "I don't care how clever you are. I don't care how powerful you become."
His voice dropped slightly.
"If you cross a line…"
A pause.
"I'll stop you."
Not a threat.
A promise.
And for the first time—
I felt it.
Not fear.
Respect.
A slow smile formed.
"I would expect nothing less."
That caught him off guard.
Just slightly.
"I'm not asking for loyalty," I continued. "Not now."
Truth.
"I'm asking you to think."
A pause.
"Observe."
Another step back.
Creating space.
"When the time comes…"
I met his gaze one last time.
"…decide for yourself who's right."
Silence lingered between us.
Then—
He turned.
And walked away.
No agreement.
No allegiance.
But not rejection either.
I watched him go, my expression thoughtful.
"He won't follow blindly."
No.
If Moody ever stood beside me…
It would be because he chose to.
And if he stood against me?
A faint smile returned.
"That would be interesting."
I turned back toward the window, the distant grounds stretching endlessly beyond.
This was different.
More difficult.
But also…
More valuable.
Because unlike the others—
Alastor Moody couldn't be controlled.
Only convinced.
And that made him…
worth the effort.