Looking back to his time with them on the train he berated himself for ignoring the signs that had been there from the start. Especially when the story they weaved and what he saw didn’t match up. Lucius had told him the details of their story after the sorting, of how they had been locked away their entire lives and only came out now due to the death of their gaurdian. He had seen the battle scars on Harrison  but upon him being declared Hufflepuff he put it out of his mind as unimportant and let the inconsistencies lie. He could now see how well he had been played, and he was strangely glad that, if this were to be his end, at least he was not bested by fools. Harrison Evan Morin was not an intimidating person normally. He stood nearly a head below Tom on a good day and between his freckles, easy smiles and that ridiculous mop of curls on his head, he resembled a puppy more than anything. No longer. Without the smile the true Harrison shone through. Aristocratic cheekbones stood below piercing green eyes that overcame the naturally genial look of his freckled face. He stood to his full height, not that it was much, with an air of someone who knew his power well. Oh and what power it was. While Hermione carried a wealth of  enticing Grey magic, Harrison held an ocean. When the Hufflepuff allowed let his magic go unrestrained, for surely it was held back, Tom would have taken note of such power before, it was nearly intoxicating. Hermione was right, his arrogance had kept this gem from his grasp, though perhaps it was not too late.