A/N: I felt an inspiration and it just ended up like this.
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling.
Xxxxxxxxxx
A pair of diligent brown orbs surveyed the outskirts of the castle, oblivious to everyone else. Perched on the highest room of the Astronomy tower, he watched the remaining carriages pull up in the courtyard. Finding nothing amiss, he pinned on his golden prefect badge and made for the stairs to the Great Hall. A stirring awareness instantly caught him in mid-step. The wind blew back and forth a strange scent that he could not distinguish. It was…unusual. Like a lover, he softly breathed it in, taking it to memory. The perfume smelt like rich vanilla and succulent strawberries— an innocently intoxicating scent that he softly favored as it lingered in his nose. He cocked an eyebrow and slowly walked back, peering under the railing. Something was coming, he knew. Whether it was against him or not, he had yet to find out.
Staring emotionlessly at the last carriage, he watched with a calculating look as two burly Aurors came out of the castle. Suspiciously, they circled their eyes around the area before proceeding to open the carriage door, and respectively giving their hands for the person to take. A delicate palm reached out from the inside of the coach and gently clutched their hands whilst concurrently stepping out. Furrowing his brows, Tom saw that the person was covered head to toe in a long, white shroud. Lantern light washed over the cloth and made the figure appear angelic-like in image. As the strange figure strolled through the entrance, he straightened himself and wondered on the lingering curiosity that he did not doubt, he would quench before the night was through.
Giving one more moment's glance at the entrance, he turned his head and swiftly stalked down the stairs.
Xxxxxxxxxxx
"Hey Charles, how was your summer?" Sebastian Nott inquired, taking his seat.
"Productive," Charles Avery replied, never taking his eyes off his large-spine book. "My father and I spent some quality time together teaching me counter-methods of cursing. It was quite fascinating you see. He put some rather intricate details into techniques of torture." He shortly lifted his eyes, "Instead of fast and brutal, he favors more of a slow and painful process. Under the span of ten to thirty days, it usually ends with victims becoming mentally impaired… It was altogether a delightful summer on my part."
"That's… nice." Came the awkward-edged response.
Not so faraway from the pair, a smirking Abraxas Malfoy stood confidently, preening in the light of his popularity. He was already attending his princely duties to his greatly cherished fan club. To his amusement, the girls were already pushing their way to the front. "Kittens, please. No need to fight. There is enough of me to go around." He momentarily inclined his head in a fastidious manner to one fan, a second year Slytherin. Crafting his charms, he positioned his palm and ever so softly brushed the underside of her chin, causing a number of girls to swoon at the sight. Right on schedule, the brunette swayed on her spot, eyes alight with love and fierce beams of candy-red hearts. Within the span of three seconds, she fell down and instantly lost consciousness. Abraxas continued smirking as the body fell with a loud thud. A day's job well done, he deliberated. Nodding to himself, he casually stepped over the cataleptic body and made his way towards the group.
"Abraxas, I saw that." Callius Lestrange leered, adding his own crooked smile.
"Saw what?" Abraxas' smirk grew even bigger, if that was possible.
"You know, I really do wonder why girls like arseholes like you. It truly is a marvel to be studied." Nott stated grumpily.
"It's the Malfoy charm mate. I'm blonde, I'm as charming as I am rich, and I got just the right baby blues that they cannot say no too. What more could a girl want?" He sighed, arrogantly stroking his chin.
"An actual guy, perhaps? With the way you watch yourself all day Malfoy, I wouldn't be so surprised if…" Callius teasingly trailed off, questioning his friend's sexuality.
"I'm damn gorgeous and you know it." Abraxas stated, flipping his long, blonde hair across his shoulder.
"You're a total ponce and I hope you know that." Adrian Mulciber bluntly exclaimed, giving his consideration.
"I'm already feeling sorry for whatever bird's going to marry you in the future." Nott chuckled, watching the already streaming lines of first years lined up at the front entrance. "She's going to go nutters by the first week."
"You're just jealous because you couldn't get into Eileen's pants last year." Malfoy stated with a teasing lilt in his tone. "Shall we bet again this year?"
"Shut up, Malfoy! That's private!" Nott furiously whispered, cocking his head in the direction of Eileen Prince who was in conversation with Ellie Arisen. He instantly felt his lips curl upwards in a shy grin. She spotted his timid beam and softly smiled back before reverting in the opposite direction and reprimanding her friend for something she said. He felt his face go completely red and proceeded to lower his head onto the table. The butterflies fluttering in his stomach made him feel all gooey and gushy and blindly joyous.
"You've gone totally red Nott! Do you happen to have a fever, mate?" Abraxas screamed in the direction of Eileen, making sure she heard every word of what he was implying. She glanced at them once again before turning back with a small chuckle and her own heavy blush, indeed she understood. Sebastian sent Abraxas a chilling glare and grabbed onto Charles' heavy tome. Pressing himself over the table, he whacked Abraxas over the head with it.
"What?" He whined. "What I'd do?"
"Why won't you shut up?" Sebastian yelled, punctuating it with another thwack in the head.
"I daresay, this is harassment! Sexual abuse! I demand a lawyer!" Abraxas screamed, grabbing his book bag and fighting back with, what he would think were hands and teeth.
Trills of laughter filled the Slytherin House table as the two continued their argument and hitting each other over the head with anything they could find.
As the laughter subsided, a query broke through Charles silence, "Have you guys seen Tom anywhere? The ceremony looks like it's about to begin." He nodded towards the entrance. Eyes flitted up at the sound of that name.
"You know him Charles." Abraxas began. "He goes wherever he wants to go, probably already lurking in the stacks somewhere if he's skipping dinner."
"A bit presumptuous of you, Malfoy?" A stern voice rose from in back of them. They all turned there heads and stared at their 'leader'. As always, he stood there crisp and clean. A picture of the perfect pupil. His uniform fitted handsomely to his thin figure, white button-up tucked in and not a single wrinkle in sight. His handsome face stood cold and emotionless, singling out Abraxas as he took his spot at the head of the table. His dark brown hair was well-groomed and softly shining with luster. It was strategically angled out of the way to show the deep depths of his eyes, a smoldering brown surrounded by a circle of dark blue. It traced Malfoy for a moment longer before forgetting him altogether.
"Nott, Avery, Malfoy, Lestrange, Mulciber." He simultaneously nodded to each of his knights before cracking open the manuscript he was carrying and continuing the passage he had left off. In his presence, silence began permeating throughout Slytherin table. Second years already had an idea who he was as they stared unblinkingly in astonishment at their heir. Of course, it remained a strict secret within house members.
The subsequent silence did not go unnoticed by many in other tables. Nott was the first one to break the ice, unfortunately. "Err… how was your summer, Tom?"
Tom instantly stiffened. A feeling of dread flooded the table as brown orbs lined onto Sebastian's own dark blue eyes, and though Tom's were empty of sentiments, there was a distilled anger that pronounced itself in the murky darkness. "How was my summer, you ask?" Tom's gentle baritone voice virtually rang out for all the Slytherins to hear. "Well, I did not imagine it could've gotten any worse… and yet it did. Yes, it was filled to the brink with filthy, ugly, insolent muggles," Anger blended into his softness. "Running rampant into my room… Touching my stuff, invading my privacy, and demanding things of me. As if they could ever stand a chance against me. It's that old fool's fault. I did not even have a single hour to myself without them barging in. If it weren't for that wretched old man, I think I would've slaughtered them all." He finished with an ominous air. The whole table felt the eeriness of his tenor, some shivering in fear while others were gaping in admiration.
"O-oh, my apologies." Nott stammered none too lightly.
"It is none of your concern. Perhaps you should not ask me anymore questions, Nott. I fear I am in a very volatile mood as it is."
"Of course." The words barely came out as Sebastian lowered his head.
Tom buried himself once more into the Dark Arts of, Magickal Maladies of the Dark Ages, by Morag the Malevolent. His unconscious mind lingered back to earlier in the evening when he spotted the mysterious figure. From the appearance of her light curves seen through the silky cloak, he could only make out that she was a female. It still left him with an impossibly endless list of questions. Of course, it probably was nothing to be bothered with. Still, his gut held him back, what if it was something? The doubt placed a strain on his concentration as he finally noticed he had been re-reading the same paragraph. Why were Aurors made to escort her? Was she a student perhaps? Would she be in anyway an asset to his plans? Would she ruin his plans? He inhaled through his nose and coolly stared at the staff table where the old man sat chatting happily with Headmaster Dippet. Dumbledore, he rolled his eyes, how he despised the bearded fool. Sneering in mild disgust, he turned his eyes towards the front as the first years were towed in by Professor Flitwick.
"Alright first years, you may wait in the front. Headmaster Dippet has a few words to share before we commence the sorting." Flitwick stated, standing on the stairs.
This was followed by Dippet standing up from the staff table, and clearing his throat. He smiled kindly at everyone before beginning, "Ah yes, another year of Hogwarts. It is extraordinary how time flies by so fast. I can still remember the day when I took my very first steps into this grand hall, not older then any of you." Giving out a short chuckle, he continued, "Now—before I further these messages along— as always students, please note that the dark forest on the borders of Hogwarts is strictly forbidden. Prefects and Heads have been assigned to execute suitable punishments for such offenses."
"In addition, I would like to welcome back old students, and look forward to meeting new ones. Speaking of new students, there has been an unfortunate happening of sorts earlier this month. I'm sure all of you have heard of…the terrible tragedy that had just been laid to waste in the central wizarding country of southern France. Gellert Grindlewald's forces completely decimated half the magical population there. Many lives were lost that night," He sighed with a cheerless face, "and I hope that you all feel lucky to be where you are, amongst the people you cherish and love. Still here. Still alive. Still being able to live." A number of students lowered their heads in respect.
"On a lighter note, there is a student transferring to Hogwarts today. A very remarkable young woman that I, myself had the pleasure to meet—and I have no doubt Professor Slughorn will soon be wanting to add her to his own private collection." Dippet teased, flashing his eyes at the interested potions professor. "Interestingly, you will find that she is also related to our very own transfiguration teacher, Professor Dumbledore. Please help me in welcoming, Victoria Dumbledore!" He raised his hand towards the closed entrance of the Great Hall and it quickly unlocked.
Tom did not place his book down, opting himself to act disinterested as he 'faintly' stared at the moving doors. The flaps slid open to reveal the cloaked girl he had seen in the courtyard, her face no longer hidden. Dressed in shining, pure white, her saintliness gently enamored the crowd. Tom softly inhaled her unique aroma, not minding it in the least. Low murmurs filled the Great Hall as the juicy news of the month glided in with her two Aurors still sidling her.
"Woah. Would you look at that? I knew this was shaping up to be my favorite year." Abraxas sighed, never taking his eyes off the innocent new prospect.
"Merlin's beard, can you see the gorgeous romp on that swan?" Nott joined in, lewdly watching the girl's hips move left to right.
"Hey! Don't even try Nott, you're already settling with Eileen, remember?" Malfoy snidely responded, shoving his shoulder.
"What are you guys fighting about?" Callius sneered, "She's a Dumbledore, Malfoy. Not one of your sick little fuck buddies. She's an enemy that needs to be observed closely and approached with caution. You should be wondering how revolting standing next to her with a ten foot pole would be!"
"That's revolting?" Malfoy nodded at the blonde haired angel, sauntering nearer to their table.
"Please. Here, Avery will side with me!" Lestrange sneered, placing a hand over his friend's shoulder.
"I think she's pretty." Charles monotonously stated, focusing solely on Victoria as if she was a book he could prop open and read.
"Oh for Merlin's sake…" Lestrange fervently shook his head, cutting his losses.
Tom lazily watched her step towards the front of the table, where he was perched. He felt his own amusement about to crack through as his lips half-curled into a crooked smirk. He couldn't help it, the contrast between him and the old fool's niece was so profoundly infinite that, at the same time, it was overwhelmingly laughable. Yes, everything that she depicted, he contrasted. From her physical attributes: rosy flushed cheeks, soft blonde hair, short stature, illuminating blue eyes, to her probable mentality: pureblood, innocent, most likely not as intelligent as him. He jokingly assessed all of them. The most outspoken would've been her holiness, which seemed to permeate the room in sick, spouts of good will— typical, he rolled his eyes, just like Dumbledore.
As she passed his table, he shrugged out of his whimsical thoughts and began dropping his lips into a sneer. However, as his eyes locked with hers, a moment happened on them. Smoldering brown met glacial blues. Perhaps for a second, it felt like he might've drowned in the intense lightness of her eyes. The corners of her lips bowed into a half smile. The expression did not fault as she proceeded to the steps. She left him feeling somewhat awry, not that he publicly showed it. Quickly, Tom squared his jaw in annoyance and leapt back to his control. How long since he had last slipped? He did not even know, nor wanted too. This would never happen again, he assured himself as a nauseating feeling covered the trail of repulsive sweetness.
The first years parted the stairs for her, gaping in a slack-jawed astonishment. She faced the headmaster and lowered her hood, releasing her long, golden locks to cascade gently down her back. With a kind smile, she nodded towards the grinning man, "Headmaster Dippet, it is wonderful to see you again." Whirling her eyes to the back, she also slanted her head towards Albus, "Uncle." She exclaimed in a loving tone, sharing smiles with her grinning uncle.
"It is wonderful to see you as well Mrs. Dumbledore." Dippet chuckled, already had taken a liking to the young lady among her many visits. As a student, she was still a favorite of his. Serious, respectful, virtuous—among many of her other excellent traits. He had found it quite saddening that Beauxbatons already had a vice-like grip on her. However, now that she transferred to his school, it only managed to boost his arrogance even more.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, I trust you told me that you had agreed to a non-hatted sorting, yes?" He inquired. Victoria hesitantly nodded, remembering that he was the one that insisted.
Sebastian raised his brow, "What the heck does he mean? A non-hatted sorting? There's no such thing, is there?"
"Actually," Charles started. "It's very real. If you've read about the Dumbledore family, you would've noticed that all of them were married to purebloods. Even though they are a bunch of blood traitors and muggle lovers, they're still pure. If I may say so, they are perhaps the purest of pure." He paused for a moment. "Now, in the beginning of the Dumbledore lineage there was a man named Isaac Gryffindor." Tom raised an eyebrow at this.
"Yes, Godric Gryffindor's third son. Although he wasn't the heir, Isaac became the first Dumbledore and through his blood came Wulfric Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore's great grandfather. At present, their pureblood name is still standing firmly connected to that of Gryffindor's. So it's presumed a blood rite that all Dumbledore's should end up in the house of the brave, the true…the lion." He stated simply. "The non-hatted sorting would start with the lead witch or wizard spilling some of her blood whilst in the castle to call on the house of her choosing. If my facts are correct, this ancient ritual has not been repeated since…the late sixteenth century." He finished with an expression of absolute fascination on his face.
"What have you been reading Avery?" Abraxas gaped.
"So in other words," Lestrange sneered, "this is just pretty much a show of power."
"Most likely." Avery grinned.
Dumbledore waved his hands and gently dimmed the torches, placing the room in a soft shade of grey. Victoria grasped the small, sharp knife from Dippet's hand and gently sliced her thumb with it. The blood immediately poured from her wound, dripping down the cement floor. Within a heartbeat, the blood, to everyone's amazement, seeped through the hardened floor and with it came an outlandish ambiance. Victoria stared at the Gryffindor table, waiting for a sign. It did not disappoint. The portrait of a roaring lion hanging at the end of the table quickly lit up as if commanded. Before anyone could blink their eyes, the same lion leapt out of his portrait, colored and transparent. It confidently roared and stalked onto Gryffindor table, ignoring the many frightened gasps. It sprinted to the front and stopped near Victoria, gazing at her curiously.
"Who are you?" the gruff voice rumbled.
"My name is Victoria Emeline Louise Rosalia Dumbledore." She confidently stated, gazing at the lion. It pursed its muzzle in contemplation and after a few moments of thinking, it nodded.
"Granted." Came the short reply. The lion jumped at her and before it could impact, its body formed into shining sparkles of light, twirling itself around her form. The sparkles changed her clothes to the proper uniform of Hogwarts. She giggled at the tickling sensation as her dress changed to a white button up and pleated skirt. It ended lastly with her tie, a striped yellow and red cloth that hanged loosely around her neck. She grinned at the sound of applause coming from several houses, including Slytherin. Making her way over to her own table, she seated herself next to a grinning red-haired girl.
"My name's Jane Paddock, I'm in your year."
"Victoria." With the exchange, they both grinned at each other and watched as the first years got sorted.
Xxxxxxxxx
Around midnight,
Tom lazily stood near the fire place, vaguely gazing at the flaming orange and red colors leap and dance to the soundless cracks of burning wood. Surrounded by his Knights, he began the meeting with a flourish of his wand, casting an advanced silencing spell on the whole room.
"Hello my faithful Knights. We are coming closer to reaching our goal and soon, the school will finally be purged of those filthy mudbloods." Taking out a heavily jeweled sword from its post, Tom humorously rotated it in his hands. "Currently, we have a new problem to put on the table. Victoria Dumbledore. Enemy or asset?" He inquired. Conversations started, not that Tom took notice, too busy admiring the fine quality of his deadly weapon. He did not even try to make an effort to participate in their silly dispute, knowing in the end he would be the one making the decisions, not them. He walked towards his chair and fell into it, gazing in amusement at his followers antics. Malfoy was currently having a fit with Lestrange. Nott with Malfoy, Mulciber with Lestrange and of course Avery, the only one with an active brain, sat in the middle reading his book.
"Oh c'mon Callius! She's just another girl, mate. No need to go and kill her so soon."
"If she's just another girl Malfoy, then why are you fighting me over her? Where do your loyalties truly lie?" Lestrange scoffed.
"You know I'm devoted to the cause!" Malfoy furrowed his brows in anger.
"Then why do you keep defending her?" Mulciber sighed, already having enough of this.
"I had thought that'd been obvious." Abraxas drawled, "I want to fuck her."
Lestrange rolled his eyes, "Nicely put Malfoy, now I'll never get that image out of my head."
Abraxas winked, "Whatever helps you sleep at night mate."
"Perhaps a less complex approach, gentlemen." Tom gravely put in whilst happily waving his sword about. "I will tell you what to do… and you will follow my instructions," Abraxas was about to comment on something but quickly flexed back as he saw Tom narrow his eyes.
"Is that clear?" Tom inquired with an emotionless gaze, pointing the tip of his blade at Malfoy's throat. Avoiding their fervent nods, he dug the blade a bit deeper until he saw a small dot of blood appear on the fine, pale skin.
"C-crystal." Malfoy fearfully stuttered, feeling the blood dribble over his adam's apple.
"Perfect." Tom crookedly smiled before removing the sword and leaning back into his chair. "Now, until she gives any sign of potential danger towards us, we and our flock will treat her just the same as any idiot Gryffindor. Malfoy, I don't give a damn what you do with her. Court her, date her, fuck her, trash her if you want, but if I see any indication that you're falling out of line, I'll kill you myself." Malfoy gulped, his neck still bleeding.
"Until the next meeting, my lovely knights." Tom concluded, swiftly standing up and striding towards his private dorm.
Everyone shuddered before quietly making their way to their own beds.
Xxxxxxxxxxx