He had never met his equal and suspected he never would.
Tom Riddle knew perfectly well that he was more brilliant, more gifted, and more cunning than his peers. Teachers praised him constantly, struggling to teach him something he didn't master in the space of the lesson. At times, he could see the trepidation in their eyes as they realized that his skill was already beyond their own, even as a student. He enjoyed the flicker of surprise and fear that came with that realization.
As he watched, eyes half-lidded in boredom, for someone to answer the question that the Dumbledore had asked, Tom wondered if anyone even could. It wasn't anything difficult, but he made a point of not trying too hard in Transfiguration. For some reason, Dumbledore was the only one who ever seemed to look straight through him. Tom highly suspected that he used Legilimency, so had mastered Occlumency to spite him. It was unknown how effective this was, however, as he had no one capable of testing his defenses. Legilimency was harder to master, but he had a natural inclination to it, easily delving into others minds, and was now only working to be more precise with it.
"Miss Granger, yes?"
Dumbledore was calling on the transfer student who, after several long moments looking around her at the others, had cautiously raised her hand. The hesitancy was amusing – Tom wondered if her guess was even going to come close to the right answer.
"Untransfiguration is, as the name sounds, the art of transfiguring something already transfigured back into its original state. Being both a spell and a counter-curse, it's one of the hardest branches of Transfiguration to master, alongside Conjuration," the bushy-haired girl recited, sounding much as if she'd swallowed those words and were now throwing them back up.
The professor beamed, eyes twinkling merrily, and awarded her ten points.
Tom, who was mildly surprised, recalled that her name was Hermione. She looked wholly unremarkable, what with her face a bit plain and her robes hanging drably around her. As he appraised her, she fidgeted in her chair and nervously glanced around. She looked like she expected others to pick on her for having answered the question – perhaps it had been like that where she'd come from.
In one of her glances, she got caught in his gaze. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, which was a very common response to his appraisal. Tom smiled the smile that made nearly everyone relax, the one that made their guards lower, but was met with a peculiar response.
The girl – Hermione, he reminded himself – frowned nearly imperceptibly and immediately turned her head back to her notes. That made two surprising things regarding her in the space of only a few minutes, which Tom found unusual. He was a good judge of character and others, well, he found others to be very easily manipulated... He tested her mind, ignoring the way her back went ramrod straight as if aware of his intrusion, and found it opaque.
Curious. Tom decided that he would keep an eye on her. Some minds were easier than others, but not being able to see anything was much rarer. Perhaps, as he refined his skill, she would make a good benchmark as to his progress. She wouldn't be able to keep him out for long; Tom promised himself that.
For now, he turned back to Dumbledore and pretended to listen attentively.