Chapter 1
Edmund Sharp scanned the great hall, searching for one particular person; Tom Riddle. He had taken quite a bit of interest in the younger boy, who, like him, had proven himself exceptionally talented. In fact, Tom Riddle had a lot in common with Edmund. Both were darkly handsome, often using their charm to their advantage, and both were sorted into the house of Salazar Slytherin the moment the sorting hat perused their minds.
Tom Riddle entered the great hall with half a dozen Slytherin girls by his feet. Edmund narrowed his eyes; there was something vaguely different about him at this moment, his usually emotionless eyes glittering with ambition. Then it hit Edmund – Tom Riddle had definitely been practicing the dark arts. Edmund himself was no stranger to the wonders of dark magic; he had been practicing the Cruciatus curse for the last couple of months. However, unlike the younger boy, he had managed to hide the sudden emotion his newfound abilities gave him with greater tact.
"Edmund," Vienna Parkinson, a Slytherin chaser called from the entrance of the great hall. "We've got Quidditch practice in half an hour."
Edmund eyes rested on the plain girl for a split second before turning his gaze back to Tom Riddle.
"I'll be there." He replied shortly without looking at the girl.
Tom Riddle was talking to a blonde Slytherin girl in his year. Edmund decided that she was somewhat attractive, but she definitely wasn't worth Tom's time. He took a closer look at the two, and recognized the girl as Bethany Greengrass, an easily manipulated girl whom he often allured to do his dirty work. From the fazed look on Bethany's face, Edmund could tell that Tom was doing the same.
Edmund got up from the table and excused himself from his friends. He fixed his dark hair and headed towards the other edge of the Slytherin table. When Tom Riddle saw the older boy walking towards him, he felt his palms dampen. Even though the two boys never had a single conversation, Tom had heard enough about Edmund Sharp to know that he was not someone to be undermined.
"Hello Tom. May we have a moment in private?" Edmund's smile brimmed with his trademark charisma, but was juxtaposed with a voice that was unmistakably steely and almost commanding.
Tom appeared taken aback, but quickly replaced his surprise with a calm expression as he stood up and followed Edmund out of the crowded great hall.
When the two dark haired boys reached the empty Slytherin common room, Edmund sat down on one of the aged black leather couches. He smiled coldly at the younger boy, who attempted to appear nonchalant but was unmistakably tense.
"I know you are practicing the dark arts." Edmund looked straight at Tom Riddle. Their identical eyes met – the first pair shone in victory; the second pair appeared lost.
Tom Riddle had never been more horrified in his 14 years of life. His fate now rested in the hands of the malicious 17 year old boy. If Edmund chose to tell the headmaster about this, Tom's entire life would be ruined – he would be put in Azkaban, like every other practitioner of the dark arts.
"Are you going to tell Headmaster Dippet?" Tom asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Ah, that," Edmund Sharp smirked. "I've got Quidditch practice later. Perhaps we can discuss this at the tower this evening."
Without waiting for a reply, Edmund got up from the leather couch and sauntered out of the Slytherin common room, leaving Tom Riddle, whose terrified look had now been exchanged for one of pure anger.