Chapter Text
1938
"Did you check that everything you need is in there?" Harry asked, making breakfast for the two of them while preparing something for Tom to take with him for the train ride as well. Meanwhile the boy himself was making last-minute decisions on which books to take with him to Hogwarts, and which books to leave. "Everything that is not related to books, that is."
"Yes, I did that yesterday," Tom said, rolling his eyes and brushing his fringe aside in an impatient gesture. "And I'll wear the school uniform before we go because the last thing I want to do is change clothes in a moving train."
"All right," Harry said with a nod while wrapping up the two neat sandwiches that he had prepared for Tom to snack on later. "Don't worry too much about the books, Tom. I told you that Hogwarts’ library is bigger than you could possibly imagine and the library is open every day."
"You also told me that the train ride is nearly seven hours long. That's a book and a half!"
"Just finish packing and come have something to eat. It's nearly nine and we should leave a bit before ten."
Tom sighed loudly before finally closing his trunk and moving to sit at the table, ready to eat his fill. There were two kinds of bread, pudding, bacon, and even some cheese - a rare treat that Tom quite liked. Any other day he would have enjoyed the food with his whole heart, but today he was too nervous for that. He ate silently, thinking of all the things that could go wrong. He didn't want to have friends and didn't want people to pester him, but he also didn't fancy the thought of being disliked for his blood or lack of money.
"You're not going to work today?" Tom asked after a few moments of silence. He pushed his plateful of food aside, not feeling particularly hungry anymore. "I mean, it's Thursday. You won't just drop me off at the station and expect me to find my way to the platform, right?"
"Of course not! Don't be ridiculous," Harry said, sitting down to enjoy his share of breakfast while he still could. "Maggie and Marie both know that you're leaving today and told me that I needn't be there until I've seen you off. Since the train will leave around eleven o'clock, I suppose I can make it to work by noon. Are you done? Have you tasted the scones? I bought them yesterday from the baker on the way home."
"I did take one, but I'm full now. Is it too early to change my clothes already?" Tom asked. "I mean, we're leaving in less than an hour."
"Wash your face first," Harry replied. "And make sure you have everything you need. No, not in the trunk-- I mean the things you want to keep in the small bag you'll be carrying with you. Is your wand in there? I packed some food for you just in case you get hungry. And a book or two."
"Yes, yes, everything is in the bag," Tom huffed, but checked to make sure anyway. Harry shook his head and gestured at the packed lunch. "When will you be getting dressed? I want to be early there at the station... I mean, you did tell me that the compartments get filled pretty fast."
"Oh, yes, you have a point," Harry agreed, standing up and contemplating whether or not he could shove two scones into his mouth without Tom judging him for it. In the end he chose to just leave the scones be. "Go wash your face and change your clothes. I'll get dressed as well."
"Will you be wearing robes, too?"
"Yes. I think it'll be better from now on to wear robes when there are no Muggles around. When you come back for the summer, we'll get you some casual robes for you to wear whenever we decide to go to Diagon Alley or someplace like it."
"Will you buy my robes from that old man again?" Tom asked, curious. "I mean, his work seems decent."
"We'll see," Harry replied, knowing that Tom had been impressed by the man's alleged reputation. It was a bit of a bother that the old man had never given his name - had he simply assumed that Harry knew it or that he'd find out easily? 'Perhaps I would, if I knew anyone in the wizarding world right now.'
"How are we going to get there?" Tom called from the bathroom, where he was washing his face. "Will you apparate us to the train station?"
"Yes," Harry said. "It's easier to simply apparate there, since we'll be wearing robes. If we took a bus to King's Cross and went through the glamoured entrance, we'd be attracting too much attention from Muggles. Which, well, is not a good thing. Secrecy is important."
Harry then quickly put the leftovers into the fridge and put the bread back in the basket before charming the plates, utensils, and glasses to float towards the sink. He then hurried towards the bedroom, where he had already set out clean robes for himself to wear. He could hardly believe that the day had finally come! Tom would leave for Hogwarts and end up in Slytherin and hopefully make friends who won't introduce him to Dark Arts.
Then again, it wasn't as if Harry expected Tom to become a saint or a paragon of kindness and goodwill - he knew that Tom simply wasn't that kind of a person. All he truly wanted was for Tom to grow up and become the kind of a person who wouldn't cause excessive grief to those around him. Anything less than a Dark Lord hell-bent on genocide would be improvement and make Harry proud.
"Harry," Tom yelled. "I'm ready!"
"All right," Harry yelled back, buttoning up his robes. "Just a second and we'll go!"
*
A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock. Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.
Tom felt as if he had stepped into a dream.
“Let’s get your trunk into the cargo car and find you a compartment,” Harry said, and Tom hurried right after him, with his trunk floating above his head.
“Will there be empty compartments left?” Tom asked, wishing that they would have arrived even earlier. Harry found a place in the cargo car for Tom’s trunk and as soon as he had put it there, he turned to the boy.
"The train usually starts filling up from the middle first," Harry explained, pulling Tom gently with him as he began walking again. "The first and last cars are often the last ones to be filled, so why don't we head to the first car right now and take a look."
"Okay," Tom said, and as he watched Harry look for an empty compartment for him, he couldn't help but feel... strange. He wasn't nervous or sad, not exactly. But he didn't feel happy either. "Harry, I--"
"Oh, there's one," Harry said, stopping as he peered into the train through one of the windows. "The door's right there. Do you want me to go inside with you?"
"No need," Tom muttered, and when Harry turned to look at him, something must have shown on his face. Harry smiled encouragingly at him, and kneeled down in front of him.
"You'll be all right," Harry said, his voice gentle and kind. "Just be yourself, love, and remember to write sometimes."
“What if I don’t fit in there?” Tom whispered, words slipping out and voicing concerns he hadn't even wanted to admit to himself. He didn't like other people but he didn't want to be the odd one out – again. "I don't mind being alone, but I don't want to be looked down on."
"You will fit in just fine," Harry assured him, tugging at one of the boy's dark brown curls and smiling at him. "And you'll do so well, Tom, we both know it. I know that they have a thing for bloodlines and they tend to cater to those with money, but people will always respect intelligence – no matter how reluctantly. So just be the smart boy I know you are, and you'll do just fine."
"Right," Tom said, feeling slightly better. "You'll write to me, right?"
“Of course!”
“And you will take proper care of yourself,” Tom continued, narrowing his eyes. “You’re such a pushover sometimes. You can't let Maggie boss you around forever. And I don't want any 'Marie says hi' sort of letters, you hear me?”
"Absolutely," Harry grinned his response, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. "Anything else, your highness?"
'Don't find another family while I'm away,' Tom wanted to say. Instead, he shook his head. "No. Nothing."
"Well then," Harry sighed, pulling the boy into a hug. "Take care of yourself, don't get into trouble and if someone tries to pick a fight with you, go and talk to a teacher immediately."
"Yeah, yeah."
Eventually Harry let go, his eyes looking suspiciously bright, as if he was holding back a few tears. With a shaky smile the raven-haired man gestured for Tom to enter the train. "Off you go, then, before someone else gets there first."
Tom grabbed his small book bag with him as he stepped into the train and headed towards the compartment Harry had found for him. As soon as he got in there, he locked the door and rushed to look at Harry through the window. Harry smiled, and said something, but Tom couldn't hear him through the glass. He didn't know how to open the window, and suspected that the window frame itself was jammed shut rather than locked.
‘He can’t hear me,’ Tom thought, pressing his hand against the glass and staring at Harry. Could he really say what he had been holding back so far? Maybe if he let it out he could control these stupid feelings of attachment that he had towards Harry?
“Thank you,” the boy said, pressing his forehead against the glass. “I’ll miss you.” He could see the other wizard smile, before he suddenly had to step back as the train made a loud noise. More students kept rushing into the train and Tom knew that soon the train would start moving, taking him away from London and all the way to Scotland.
Harry felt his heart ache as he watched Tom sit in the compartment alone. He remembered his own first trip and how he had met Ron, and he desperately hoped for Tom to be able to make a few good friends at Hogwarts. When the train finally began moving, Harry saw Tom wave at him one last time before he was gone.
'And off he goes,' the wizard thought, feeling suddenly miserable. All he had now was a job that he liked well enough but didn't enjoy and an empty flat where he'd live alone until Christmas.
"Of course you'd be here, too," a voice said, and it took Harry a moment before realizing that it was him that the voice was speaking to. He turned to see Lord Black staring at him with a contemptuous expression on his face. Next to him stood the woman who had been with him at the coffee shop, and her eyes were fixed on Harry with a sharp, assessing look.
"Lord Black," Harry sighed, reluctant to waste any time on listening to the man. "And... Lady Black, I assume?"
"You assume correctly," the woman replied, managing to somehow look at Harry with both disgust and contempt while maintaining a coldly polite smile on her face. "Arcturus, shall we go? I have elsewhere to be."
"In a moment," Lord Black said, looking at Harry in a way that he found highly unsettling. "It never ceases to amaze me how... bold some of you are. Despite Hogwarts not being where your kind belongs, you still insist on going there."
"Your opinion on the matter does not surprise me in the least," Harry said dryly, resisting the temptation to roll his eyes. "However I would like to remind you that magic exists in people regardless of their blood and leaving witches and wizards untrained due to personal opinions such as yours would result in an unknown number of people causing magical accidents in the Muggle world. Which in turn would risk the exposure of the wizarding world."
"You make a strong argument," Lord Black said, though he didn't sound particularly approving of Harry's opinion. "Spent some time thinking of this, have you?”
"Perhaps," Harry said. "Now, however... as nice as it is to discuss these matters with you, I must go. Good day."
"Before you leave," Lord Black said. "I do not know your name, do I? Since you know mine, I believe it is only fair for me to know yours."
"Riddle," Harry replied. "Harry Riddle."
"Well, Mr. Riddle," Lord Black said, sounding amused for reasons Harry couldn't begin to guess. "It was a pleasure to meet you." Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion but nodded anyway as he walked past the couple.
If he never saw the two again, he'd be happy.
*
"Interesting," Melania Black said, watching Riddle walk away. The man was rather well dressed for a mudblood, and though he was a pleasant sight for the eyes, he wasn't quite handsome enough to justify the admiring looks certain people were giving him.
"Riddle?" Arcturus scoffed with insincere disagreement. "Hardly!"
"Oh, I wasn't speaking of that mudblood," Melania said quietly, glancing at her husband with a condescending look. Oh, she could see exactly what he thought of Riddle. She hadn't spent over a decade and a half without learning how to read him like an open book. "I meant your... behaviour. Forgive me for being surprised by your sudden need to speak to one of his kind with politeness reserved usually for people of some status. What on earth could be the reason for that?"
"Shall we go home?" Arcturus asked instead of replying to her question, and began leading the woman towards one of the fireplaces. "I have some work to do at the ministry later on. I'd like to go home and rest for a little bit before that."
"Oh yes," Melania said pleasantly and nodded in greeting to Mrs. Goyle who had just walked past them. "You did buy that Order of Merlin, didn't you? First class, I believe?"
"I would like to remind you that I earned it. Unless, of course, you have a reason to believe that Minister Fawley would engage in any kind of foul play," Arcturus hissed, his fingers curling around the woman's arm. Melania's smile didn't waver even when Arcturus' nails dug into her skin painfully. She remained silent until she had flooed back home to Grimmauld Place with Arcturus right behind her, and it wasn't until he sat down to unlace his boots that she spoke.
"He is rather lovely looking, isn't he?" she said, tugging off her gloves. "I suppose you do like your... friends to be shorter and slender. He does look like he'd put up a fight, though, so you might want to watch out for that."
"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"
"Oh, darling, you know what I'm talking about."
"I advise you to be more careful with your words, then," Arcturus said, not amused in the least. The familiar anger and resentment he often felt towards his wife burned in his blood again, and he could only curse the bad luck that made him marry a woman who would rather punish him for not being the husband she wanted than be grateful for the wealth he had allowed her to live in. "Anyone else would take grave offense and seek retribution, my dear."
Melania laughed softly while taking off her hat and then sat down on a chair nearby. She looked at him with a smile on her face, reminding Arcturus of a beautiful painting. "Oh, Arcturus, is it the truth that wounds you so? Perhaps you could have thought of that before engaging in activities unbecoming of your status."
"You really do need to be careful of what you speak. I assure you that whatever you believe you know of this situation is wrong."
"Ah, but there is a situation."
"There's a rumour that Dark wizards and witches are gathering somewhere in Germany," Arcturus said, and for a moment Melania wasn't sure if the man was discussing the mudblood still or if he had dared to move so carelessly to a different subject. "I wonder if Malfoy knows something about this. Perhaps I should ask him."
"Malfoys refuse to believe in the existence of potentially important gatherings unless they are the first ones invited," Melania said, before leaning against the table and eyeing Arcturus with a pleasant smile on her face. "You don't wish to discuss the mudblood, I take it? I cannot fault you for that, I suppose. After all if anyone else knew of your inclinations, you'd lose far more than your reputation. Money can buy tolerance but it cannot buy acceptance."
"There's nothing to discuss," Arcturus snapped. "For some reason you're overreacting to whatever delusions your mind has conjured up."
"Oh, do forgive me," Melania said, and the clear pitch in her voice promised him no good. His instincts were proven right when the woman continued: "However, since I'm aware of your habit of enjoying young men whenever you believe I do not notice, I suspect that I am allowed my... delusions, as you said."
"You're out of line with these vulgar accusations of yours," Arcturus said, feeling angrier than before. "I know what my priorities are and I assure you that I am not about to forget them anytime soon."
"I am most relieved to hear that," Melania said, unaffected by her husband’s angry expression. "I know you believe yourself to be entitled to everything you fancy, Arcturus, but that is only because I have yet to find any of your ridiculous activities relevant enough of my attention. However if you do keep speaking to this... Mr. Riddle... more often in public, I'm afraid that I will have to interfere."
"For your own sake, I hope that you're not trying to threaten me," Arcturus said, standing up. "How about you have a cup of tea and calm down a little bit, my dear? It seems that dropping the children off has made you hysterical. I would join you, but I'd like to take a nap before I go to the ministry."
"Rest easy, Arcturus," Melania said, waving her hand dismissively. "I will enjoy my tea in your absence. Have a good day."
"Likewise," the man replied, more than ready to leave. "I'll see you in the evening."
*
It had taken Tom slightly over ten minutes of staring outside through the window before he grew bored of seeing the sceneries flying by and dug out one of the books he had taken with him. The sight of the lunch Harry had packed for him made Tom nearly smile, and he couldn't deny how pleased it made him to have someone who would happily care for him like that.
A few times in the beginning someone had tried to open the compartment's door, but everyone had given up as soon as they had realized that the door was locked. Tom knew, however, that eventually someone would try to come in despite the locking spell - and he was right. Two chapters into the book he was reading, a girl with thin black hair and a sour expression had managed to open the door and step in.
"That was a locking spell, wasn't it? It's good that I knew the counter spell, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to get in," she said, sitting down in front of Tom. The boy promptly refocused on his book, hoping that the girl would understand the hint and leave him alone. "It's rude to keep a compartment all for yourself when there are others looking for a place to sit."
"I don't care," Tom replied, already hating her for existing and annoyed at her for stepping into his compartment. If he had to be disturbed, why couldn't it have been someone who enjoyed silence and didn't seem to have the need to talk to him? "And yes, Captain Obvious, that was a locking spell. A locked door is not an invitation for you to try and open it, you know."
"Are you a first year student?" the girl asked, ignoring everything that Tom had just told her. "You don't look old enough to be a second year."
"I don't think that's any of your business."
"It was just a question, you know. No need to be rude about it."
"I'm not being rude," Tom snapped, refusing to look up from the book he was busy trying to read. "I just don't think that you're entitled to know anything about me. Now be quiet, because I'm trying to read."
"What book is that?" the girl asked a moment later, making Tom even more annoyed. "I brought so many books with me even though my mother told me that I wouldn't need to, but I'd rather have too many books than not enough books. Is that about arithmancy? I see numbers on the cover."
"Investment," Tom replied, and scowled at her. He couldn't believe that only a few hours ago he had wanted to make friends and meet people. Harry's tolerable company had made him forget how endlessly annoying everybody else was. "I told you to be quiet. I'm trying to read."
"Whatever," the girl muttered, rolling her eyes as she pulled out a book of her own. "I don't usually talk with people but my mother made me promise to try. So I tried. Now I'm done."
"Quiet," Tom repeated once more, and ignored the angry huff coming from the girl's direction. The two then proceeded to read quietly for nearly a full hour before someone else barged into their compartment.
"Hello!" the boy - clearly an older student - said cheerfully. His voice was loud and the smile on his face made Tom want to throw a book at him. "My name is Emerson Blair, and I am a Hufflepuff prefect here to greet first year students and help them if there's any need for that. We're already a few hours into our journey to Hogwarts and I hope that you've had a good time so far. Is there anything you wish to ask about? Now's your chance!"
"No thank you," the girl said immediately, eyeing the older boy's black and yellow tie with a disapproving frown. It made Tom remembered when Harry had told him a little bit about the different prejudices people had when it came to each Hogwarts House. "I think we're good."
"Actually," Tom started, just to be contrary. "I'm a half-blood, you see, and there's a lot that I don't know yet about Hogwarts."
"Oh, I'm a half-blood too," Emerson said, his smile becoming slightly less cheerful but somehow more genuine. "I promise you that if you run into any prejudice at school, you won't have to deal with it alone."
"Yes, thank you," Tom said impatiently, before asking: "What are the opening hours of the library?"
"Oh." Emerson looked surprised for a second, before he laughed and shook his head. "If you don't end up in Ravenclaw, I'll be surprised. Hogwarts library opens at six thirty in the morning and closes at nine thirty in the evening."
"Is there a limit to how many books you can borrow at once?"
"I... I have no idea."
"All right," Tom said, glancing down at his book again. "Thank you for answering my questions. Have a good day." The prefect sat still for a few moments, before he stood up and left after making sure that the two had no other questions to ask. As soon as he had closed the compartment door after him, the girl said:
"You asked him your stupid questions just because I said that we have nothing to ask, didn't you?"
"My questions weren't stupid," Tom protested, though he didn't bother denying the accusation. "I just wanted to know the opening hours of the library."
The witch rolled her eyes, clearly not believing his excuse. Tom didn't care - he had no interest in making the girl believe him anyway. In fact the only thing he wanted from her was for her to leave him alone and never speak to him again.
'I really hope that I won't end up in the same House as her,' Tom thought. 'Anything would be better than that.'
*
The girl remained blissfully quiet for the rest of the trip, and eventually Tom forgot her presence altogether. It wasn't until he felt the train slow down that he looked up and remembered her being there. The girl looked at him too, and seemed alarmingly ready to say something when a voice announced:
“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”
‘Here I go,’ Tom thought, feeling slightly queasy and wary. He left the compartment only after the train had stopped, joining the crowd filling the corridor and leaving the dark-haired girl behind in the compartment. As soon as the doors opened, people - Tom drifting along with them - rushed out onto a tiny, dark platform. Tom silently wondered what the time was - it was dark outside and quite cold, too.
“First years this way,” a loud voice shrieked, and Tom turned to see a short man levitating a glowing sign to catch the attention of the students. “First years! This way! Follow me!”
“They seriously need someone taller for that kinda job,” said someone standing right behind Tom as they walked down a narrow, steep path.
“What, a giant or something?” another boy snickered. “Because you’d have to be thrice as tall, four times as wide and infinitely louder to not gum up the works like this one is doing.”
“You’ll soon see Hogwarts,” the short professor yelled, his voice carrying with surprising ease. Tom wondered if he was using a spell of some sort to make sure that everyone could hear him. “Come on, just around this bend here.”
Harry had called Hogwarts magnificent, but Tom only now realized how magnificent Hogwarts could actually be. The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
“No more than four in one boat,” the short man instructed, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. “No more than four! And don't touch the water!” Tom walked towards one of the boats and he had barely sat down when he was joined by the two boys that had been talking right behind him, and, much to his ire, the girl with whom he had shared his compartment.
“Where do you think you’ll get sorted?” one of the boys asked the other.
“Mum said I better be a Ravenclaw if I want to go back home,” the other replied. “I don’t think she was really serious about it, though. As long as it’s not Slytherin…”
“My parents will probably disown me if I end up in Slytherin,” the first boy agreed. “They-“
“Are pretty pathetic and not very good parents to begin with if they’re ready to throw away their own child just because he or she got sorted into a House the parents don’t like,” the girl said sharply. Tom silently agreed with her and wondered if Harry’s attitude towards Houses wasn’t common. Harry had said that any House was fine.
“Who asked you, Prince?” the first boy asked. The girl rolled her eyes and didn't respond, which only seemed to irritate the two boys more. They were distracted, however, when the fleet of little boats started moving towards the castle.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” one of the two boys said, staring at Tom. “Are you a Muggleborn?”
“Half-blood,” Tom replied, reluctant to talk more about his parentage. Luckily the boys didn't seem to be interested in hearing more about it either.
The boats then entered a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reached a small underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. The short man led them up a passageway in the rocks that took them to a flight of stairs and a huge door. The short man turned to take one last look at the students following him before he turned and pushed the door open.
The stone walls of the entrance hall were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. A tall, thin man with auburn hair and a cheerful smile walked towards them.
“The students, Professor Dumbledore,” the short man said.
“Thank you, Tuggs,” Professor Dumbledore replied, smiling pleasantly. “Welcome, everyone, to Hogwarts. I am the Deputy Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore. Please do follow me, ladies and gentlemen.”
The man then led the students to a small, empty chamber out of the hall. The students crowded in, standing rather closer together than they usually would have done, peering about nervously. Dumbledore then turned to them again. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your House.”
‘Harry explained all this to me already,’ Tom thought impatiently, zoning out. ‘The Houses, the points, the competitions…’
“Form a line, please,” Professor Dumbledore finally said, still smiling kindly to them, “and follow me.” They walked silently out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall, and Tom couldn’t remember a time when he had been more nervous than this.
He had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the end of the hall, on an elevated platform, was another long table where the teachers were seated.
Professor Dumbledore led them up towards the platform, and they came to a halt in a line facing the other students with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them made Tom feel nervous, and he scowled, trying to not look bothered by the attention.
A four-legged stool was placed in front of the first years. On top of the stool there was a pointed wizard’s hat, and Tom remembered Harry telling him about it. The Sorting Hat. It was, frankly, a disappointing garment; patched and frayed and looked rather dirty. A few students gasped with surprise when the hat twitched and a ripped brim opened wide like a mouth. And then, the hat began to sing.
Ten centuries ago
a school was built on a hill,
to teach magic to each child
with an ounce of wizarding will.
To ease the task of learning
four Houses came to be,
and the task of sorting you all
was left up to me.
With sharp wit and wisdom
Ravenclaw leads your steps
to a road of books and knowledge,
and learning that never ends.
A cornerstone of achievement
remains hard work,
surpassing talent and luck
is this Hufflepuff quirk.
A daring heart seen by all
or courage hidden inside,
it will take you to Gryffindor
where the brave dwell with pride.
Ambitious folk, cunning and clever
with dreams of high glory,
in the noble House of Slytherin
remains a common story.
So come closer and take a seat,
let's have a chat.
I know exactly where to send you,
I am the Sorting Hat!
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quiet and still again.
“We just have to try that on,” someone whispered behind Tom, sounding relieved. “Dad told me I’d have to slay a dragon.”
‘Idiot,’ Tom thought.
Professor Dumbledore, smiling even brighter than before, stepped forward holding a scroll of parchment. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” he said. “Ainsley, Linda!”
Tom saw a pink-faced girl with a worried expression stumble out of the line in front of him, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sit down. A moment’s pause, and —
“GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. The table on the right cheered and clapped as the girl went to sit down there among the cheering people who welcomed her enthusiastically.
“Avery, Aloysius.”
“It’s Al!” protested a blond boy, walking past Tom, who wondered what kind of a name was Aloysius.
“SLYTHERIN!” shouted the hat, and smiling smugly Avery scurried towards the table of Slytherins. After him ‘Balfour, Yvette’ was sorted into Gryffindor and ‘Blishwick, Regina’ became the first Ravenclaw.
And so it went on… Bones, Boot, Brown, Burke… There were a few names Tom could recognize to belong to rather notorious families, such as Dorian Lestrange and Duncan McLaggen. And then, finally, it was his turn.
“Riddle, Tom,” Dumbledore said, and keeping his face calm and impassive with practiced ease, Tom made his way towards the stool. He wondered where he’d end up and the last thing on his mind when the hat was placed on his head was which House would make Harry the happiest.
“Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Quite complicated, hm? I see intelligence worthy of Ravenclaw– you do so love studying, don’t you? But your loyalty to that man… could land you in Hufflepuff.”
‘Harry,’ Tom thought.
“You’re… not particularly brave, are you? Then how about Slytherin? Oh yes… yes… Well, look at this. A peculiar skill indeed… Well, this solves it. Quite unexpected! Without a doubt, you belong to— SLYTHERIN!” Tom heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took it off and walked calmly towards the Slytherin table, where some other first years were making space for him. To his secret relief, the students were clapping for him, too.
He wasn't sure why he had expected them not to.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the students to be sorted and after Weasley, Franklin was placed in Gryffindor, Dumbledore rolled up the scroll and took the Sorting Hat and the stool away. The Headmaster – Tom didn’t remember his name –stood up. His smile wasn’t quite as annoyingly cheerful as Dumbledore’s, although Tom would have preferred a serious expression instead of an idiotic grin on the man’s face. He looked like nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
“Welcome,” the old man said. “New and returning students, welcome to Hogwarts!”