I wrote this story at about three in the morning so it isn't the best, but if anyone likes it I'll keep it up.
A Harry and Petunia centric fic is coming up right after this!
"Malfoy, Abaraxas," a tall woman with pointed features called out.
Tom Riddle watched as a small boy with silvery hair walked up to the three- legged stool and put on the aging hat. Not even a second went by before it called out "Slytherin." The boy calmly made his way over to a crowd of cheering boys and girls, shaking everyone's hand before taking a seat.
"Riddle, Tom," the woman called out again in her nasally voice.
Tom looked up in time to see Dumbledore whisper to an obese looking teacher and point in his direction. Tom mentally sneered. He had automatically disliked to red- haired teacher since he met him at the orphanage.
He finally made his way over to the stool and sat on the hard wood. He looked out into the ocean of faces and saw many of the younger girls whispering and giggling while they looked up at him.
Suddenly, he felt a weight on his head and a new voice laughed loudly.
"Yes, the young ladies can get quite annoying."
It took Tom a moment to compose himself before he quietly called out an awkward hello.
"Well hello young mister Riddle!"
Tom felt a slight tingle and a flash of memories passed before his eyes. He was about to say something when the hat's old voice filled his head again.
"Very devious lad, aren't you? Yes a quick wit and a brilliant mind as well. Perfect for Ravenclaw, but not quite as arrogant to the world outside of books as they tend to be. Hmmm, you're brave and value loyalty, yet Gryffindor wouldn't be the place for you…"
"Umm, excuse me, but what about Slytherin?" Tom asked remembering one of the boys on the bus saying that Slytherin on took the best, unlike the other trash houses.
"Well, Slytherin would be the choice place to put you, but…," he stopped when he felt anger exuding from the boy.
"And why not," Tom said in a deathly cold voice.
"You need a place that will nurture and care for you. After being raised in that orphanage."
"Listen you dirty, old hat! If you think just because I was brought up in an orphanage I'm weaker than any of these other people, than you had better think again. If you don't put me in my proper house and with those tree-hugging Hufflepuffs than I will burn you to a crisp and take satisfaction in the fact that I am the one causing you this pain!"
The hat was quiet for a long time, still stunned, until it finally called out a shaky "Slytherin."
Tom let a small smirk grace his handsome face before walking towards the Slytherin table. He sat and politely listened as a boy named Michael Parkinson and a few other first years introduced themselves.
Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore watched Tom smile and shake hands with his fellow housemates. Dumbledore sighed and looked into his drink. He had hoped the Sorting Hat would have taken his advice and sorted Mister Riddle into Gryffindor so he could guide the boy over to the light. No matter though, he would just have to keep a closer eyes on Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Like it? R&R!
