{A/N} Thanks for the response given! I hope I managed to reply all of your questions (except anons).

Chapter 2

TIMESKIP – 11 years later

"Harry James Potter! I swear I'm going to hex your hair pink if you don't come down this instant, young man!"

Harry rolled his eyes as he stood in front of the mirror in his room, inspecting himself carefully. While he did not consider himself vain – he was far from the pompous grooming purebloods liked to indulge themselves in – first impressions ran deep and it would be the first day of his journey to Hogwarts today.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair once more when he realized that there was no way his hair was going to tidy itself. It was another trait he had inherited from his father, he mused. While he had grown out of being his father's duplicate over the years and corrected his eyesight, his hair was one thing he couldn't seem to change.

Casting one last look at the mirror, Harry grabbed his cloak and levitated his luggage out of the room as he went down the steps to meet Sirius in the main hall. He could not help glaring at the offending portrait hanging on the walls as he went, tuning himself out to the insults they gave as he passed.

"There you are! I thought you had died up there from the time you were taking!" Sirius greeted him brightly as he appeared round the doorway. Despite Harry being the one to start his Hogwarts education today, it was Sirius who appeared utmost excited.

Harry ignored his godfather's comment and allowed him to steer him towards the front door of Grimmauld Place. His godfather had been some sort of an elder brother figure to him ever since his parents died many years back. The story was long and tragic, but Harry didn't want to dwell too much into it. He was young during his parent's demise, and all he could get from Sirius was that one of his father's close friends, Pettigrew, had murdered his parents out of a jealousy spat.

Or maybe jealousy spat wasn't the correct word. Pettigrew had plotted the murder down to the very last detail, something that was apparently unusual of him ("He couldn't have the patience to turn a toad into a cup even if he wanted to" Sirius had exclaimed indignantly). But being close to his parents added an advantage to Pettigrew, and it was a matter of a courtesy call for him to reach his parents. Unfortunately for him, Sirius had arrived in time to see him fleeing and he had made it into the wanted list of the Ministry of Magic.

And the worse thing was that damned rat was nowhere to be found. Sirius knew he was an animagus as did Harry, but there were thousands of rats running around the sewers of Great Britain. Their only comfort was that Pettigrew would probably have to live the rest of his life either as a rat, or human in the muggle world since James and Lily were rather respected in the society and their murders had brought great indigence to the public. Many people recognized Pettigrew so he couldn't walk around scot free after the murders.

And in the aftermath, Harry had ended up under Sirius's guardian, which suited him fine since Sirius was unmarried with no children, so he wasn't intruding into his godfather's life. The only other close friend that Sirius had, Remus Lupin, had vanished shortly before the murder and even years later, he was still nowhere to be found. Sirius had mourned for his friend, and over the years he seemed to have accepted the fact that he was the last of the marauders, although the acceptance had stopped him from his frequent reminiscing.

Harry remembered that shortly after his parent's demise, they had moved into Grimmauld's Place, since Sirius didn't want to remain in the Potter manor where Lily and James had been murdered. Growing up, Harry was accustomed with the arrangement once he learned a handy trick from Sirius to hex the annoying portraits into silence. Especially Sirius's mother, Walburga, who wouldn't stop screeching everytime she saw him, even though it had been years.

The other alternative he had was his horrid Aunt Petunia which Harry had the misfortune of meeting once, when he was very young. It amazed him how he could distinctly remember the smell of grapes and a shocking pink from the vague blur that was of his childhood memories, but that was just the way things worked.

"I've always wanted to take the Knight Bus," Sirius beamed as they stood in front of the now invisible Number 12 Grimmauld Place. "It reminded me of the once I took it with Mother and Regulus, and the next day she filed for a petition to have the bus removed," he recalled fondly, staring into space. "Obviously it never got through," he grinned widely.

Harry rolled his eyes slightly and stuck out his arm. He had always wondered who was the adult between him and Sirius, since he was more mature than his godfather did. But then again, it was no secret that Sirius seemed to be stuck perpetually as a child in an adult's body.

There was a loud bang that startled both Harry and Sirius, but in the next second, the Knight Bus appeared, its violent purple a big contrast to the brick houses left and right.

"Good morning lads! My name is Nicholas Shunpike and I'll be your conductor for this morning," a bright-eyed freckly boy greeted from the door. He looked to be no older than twenty, Harry noticed as Nicholas eyed his luggage. "About to start school at Hogwarts, eh? Great school, marvelous. My only regret was not getting into the Ministry of Magic…" he shook his head and cleared his thoughts. "But whatever are you waiting for ? Come on in!"

Without waiting, Nicholas levitated Harry's trunk and eagerly outstretched a hand for Sirius to grab onto. They both clambered onto the bus – Sirius excitedly and almost stumbling over his robes, and Harry slightly warily.

They had barely made it to the seats when the Knight Bus shot off once more. Quickly grabbing onto the nearby pole, Harry maneuvered himself to the nearest seat within reach and was followed by a grinning Sirius. Looking at Sirius, Harry briefly wondered why he had allowed himself to be persuaded by his bipolar godfather into taking the Knight Bus. There were many alternatives to getting to Kings Cross Station, be it muggle transport, the Floo network or side-along apparation.

"I wish I could have taken my bike though, if it weren't in repairs," Sirius's mournful voice sounded from beside him as his godfather's excited mood dimmed.

Right, Harry remembered. The bike was the reason why he had been so convinced to taking the Knight Bus. Sirius's bike was far from being safe and his godfather had a tendency to go a tad too fast, especially when he didn't exactly know all the functions of the various knobs of the bike.

The Knight Bus turned and swayed and Harry moved along with it even as he tried to remain upright for all his dignity's worth. Luckily for him, the other occupants in the bus didn't look to be doing well either, and Sirius was happily humming in tune as he swayed with the bus in between chatting with Nicholas Shunpike who was still reminiscing about his days at Hogwarts.

"I wish I could be back there though. Great place to be, even with the professors," Nicholas said for the eighth time that day. "And the detentions."

Sirius grinned widely and elbowed Harry hard in the ribs, who winced slightly. "Say, Nicholas, what professor should young Harry here be looking out for?" There was a bright mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Harry sat up straighter, interested now. He hadn't heard a great deal about the Hogwarts professors, since quite a few of them had changed since Sirius's time. He knew only the general facts of each teachers, but he didn't quite like the idea of Dumbledore, who was Hogwart's headmaster. The students seemed slightly overboard in their awe for the headmaster and he was slightly suspicious of the man's mannerisms. But that also meant he was wary of Tom Riddle, Hogwart's current favourite professor and a hit amongst students.

He was the most popular choice of topic and gossip amongst the Hogwarts graduates, all of whom seemed to speak highly of the man, to the point of reverential and slight worship to the dazed females. He had heard of Tom Riddle and his brief but illustratious career in the Ministry, but that was it. The man wasn't known to having a high profile, and only made a striking comment here and there that tended to leave a great impression in people's minds, but he was a favored topic and the best teacher of Hogwarts, if the rumors were to go by. His handsome looks did nothing but add to his charm too, Harry thought, remembering the pictures he had seen in the prophet.

He was soon brought back to the conversation with Sirius's chuckle at Nicholas's words. The two of them seemed to be having the time of their lives exchanging their stories of Hogwarts.

"And then I said to Hagrid that I wasn't plucking the wings of the pixie but he wouldn't have it. Chased me out of his grounds after that," Nicholas was nearly in tears of laughter now as he rolled over and over, clutching his stomach. "But my, am I glad he didn't report me to Professor Riddle. The man's a right charmer and a brilliant wizard, but I don't fancy having to be stuck in detention."

"What about Professor Riddle?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Well," Nicholas said animatedly, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his favorite teacher. "The man's brilliant, and they say he's as powerful as Dumbledore. After seeing his spellwork, you wouldn't imagine. Students fall left and right trying to get him to notice them… and he has a fan club or something," he grumbled, huffing as he folded his arms. Harry guessed that he wasn't looked highly upon by Riddle.

He frowned, but he wasn't too surprised by what Nicholas had said. Tom Riddle had to be a decent seducer in order to climb up the ranks of the Ministry so fast and seemingly without offending that much people. And he had to have extraordinary patience too, to deal with annoying people latching onto him.

Harry wondered what it would be like to meet the man he often saw in the newspapers, but he knew one thing for sure: He wasn't going to fall on his feet like those stumbling idiots by trying to gain favor with his professor. That, unless his professor proved himself and commanded his respect.

Sirius continued talking to Nicholas while Harry stared at the places that the Knight Bus was zooming past, in silence as he thought about Hogwarts.

Seven long and grueling minutes later, they arrived at Kings Cross Station and a quick tempus charm indicated that he had twenty minutes to spare before the train left. Harry hopped out of the train, Sirius following behind him with the luggage now hand-carried as he waved goodbye to Nicholas.

There was a puff and the Knight Bus was gone, leaving Harry and Sirius at the entrance of the station. For the next couple of minutes, the both of them maneuvered through the thick crowd of muggles at the station. It had been long since Sirius had come to Kings Cross Station, and his mother had not really favored muggle transport so he never had the chance to come by the main entrance. They stopped and asked around for platform 9 – "Platform 9 and ¾ is invisible to muggles. They would think you're a nutter if you tried asking them," Sirius joked – and they made it with another ten minutes to spare.

"After you," Sirius said, with a wide grin, having located the platform. He made to give Harry a little shove and Harry immediately stepped out of the way and walked calmly into the barrier between the magical and muggle world.

He emerged to the glory of the Hogwarts Express that he had only managed to see in books. The real thing was magnificent and seemed to command an air of authority itself. Harry glanced around and saw that most students were already there and they were milling around the train, exchanging tearful goodbyes with their parents.

Harry felt slightly uncomfortable watching them. He was never really comfortable with any shows of affection because of his parents' demise, and he even tried to wiggle out of the occasional bear hugs that Sirius gave when the man was excited.

He stood by the side, his attention on the train instead of the groups of families nearby. Seconds later, Sirius emerged from the platform, hair all tousled and messy, indicating that he had ran through the barrier. The man immediately broke into yet another bright grin when he spotted Harry and went over to him at once.

"So Harry… got any tricks up your sleeves already?" Sirius asked, beaming at him.

Harry immediately recalled Sirius's fond memories of the Maruders Era at Hogwarts and their pranking spree. He wasn't too sure if he would be spending his time at Hogwarts coming up with pranks; no, in fact, he was dead set on entering the Restricted Section of the library and pursing the endless books in there.

He had a passion for reading, but unfortunately, most of the advanced books in the Black Manor were forbidden by Sirius as he felt that they were too advanced for him, in order words, that they were too dark to practice.

"Not really. I'll see how it goes," Harry said noncommittally, wheeling his luggage towards the entrance of the train.

Sirius made to follow him but then a friend caught his eye. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to follow his godson or to catch up with his friend, but Harry quickly pushed him away with a small smile.

Watching his godfather go, Harry smiled lightly. He was never a particularly clingy person and he considered himself independent by many means. In fact, Sirius was the only person he allowed to coddle him since he wasn't particularly comfortable socializing with stuck up purebloods, or anyone for that matter.

He wandered around the trains, his truck levitated behind him as he searched for a compartment at the far ends of the trains. Based on Sirius's accounts, the ends of the trains were usually deserted for most people preferred to be seated in compartments close to their friends. Harry wondered why he seemed like one of the few people who enjoyed the peace and silence of being alone, but he attributed it to his personality.

Sliding open the compartment door, Harry let himself into the compartment right at the end of the train. Pleased with himself for securing the temporary silence, he glanced over the windows to see the groups of family gathering slowly breaking apart as it was time to board the train. He observed the farewells exchanged with a passive, indifferent expression as he felt quite detached to the whole thing. Even though it was his first day at Hogwarts, he did not feel excited as the rest of the children were – he felt dry, only eager to learn as much as he possibly could during his stay at Hogwarts.

He was going there with a mission, not to gamble away seven years of his life. At his young age, he understood the importance of knowledge. Since blood could not be helped, knowledge and power were the alternatives to success. He didn't care much about his status as a halfblood and as the Potter name commanded enough respect in Wizarding Britain to ensure him a smooth life, he didn't put much thought into something uncontrollable.

A few minutes later, the train began picking up speed and Harry stared wistfully at the platform. The next time he returned, months would have passed and he would have learned much at Hogwarts. He would also know which Hogwarts house he would be sorted into, and he was banking on Gryffindor because of the Potter blood that ran through his veins. He was partial to the other houses as well, but given his knowledge-driven nature, he thought he might end up in Ravenclaw too.

As he was far away in his thoughts, it was with a start that he jolted when the compartment door slid open. He shrugged, anticipating that one or two stragglers may end up at the back ends of the train. His eyes hovered upwards to meet a familiar figure.

The platinum blond hair would have been a dead giveaway if Harry didn't already recognize the boy. Purebloods were interconnected in several ways, and Harry had seen Draco Malfoy a few times during one of the rare social gatherings Sirius attended.

"May we sit?" Draco asked coolly, gesturing to himself and his three other friends behind him. It was more of a polite way of informing than a question.

Harry hesitated and nodded curtly. Well, it wouldn't do him good to offend Malfoy right early before the school year started. He was looking for knowledge, not trouble and everyone knew Malfoys could be a bother if they held a grudge against you.

"Draco Malfoy," Draco said, extending his hand for a handshake once he was properly seated. His grey eyes surveyed him carefully and Harry did the same. "But you already know that, of course. Allow me to introduce my friends… Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass."

"Pleasure," Harry said curtly and took the offered hand for a brief moment. His eyes moved to find three other curious eyes staring back at him, and he took his time to introduce himself. "Harry Potter," he said, and familiarity flickered upon Zabini and Greengrass's eyes. No doubt they would be remembering the story of the demise of his parents… those questions he didn't want to answer. He shuddered slightly.

"I've heard about you," Draco said, after a moment's worth of silence. "And seen you too, the most recent being the Malfoy Christmas ball two years back."

A wry smile flittered across Harry's amused face. "And I'm rather touched that you remembered me out of the countless guests you must receive every year." He could not help the cynical, bored tone that accompanied him – those traits were bred too deeply in him for him to appear sincere.

A look of annoyance crossed Draco's face while Greengrass chuckled softly at his snide comment. "You happen to be striking, if you must know, Harry." He accepted Draco's use of his first name – a pureblood gesture of cordiality, and watched as pale eyes surveyed him. He had the pleasure of holding his ground, meeting Draco's assessment calmly.

"And I find myself looking forward to your attending of Hogwarts," Draco continued after a small silence. "Things would surely be interesting there."

"Might you remind me why?" he asked dryly.

"Professor Riddle is a highly acclaimed teacher at Hogwarts and he appreciates talent, blood and power. If the rumors of you were anything to go by, I assume that you are a rather talented wizard yourself?"

"And let me guess, you're looking to be competing against me for a professor's attention?" Harry asked, amused now as he leaned back. Draco's face tensed slightly, but he gave no indication that he was affected by Harry's comment.

"I already have Professor Riddle's attention," Draco said clearly after a moment's pause. A significant look traded between him and the other three potential-Slytherins, and it would have piqued Harry's curiosity if it hadn't been such a trivial matter they were discussing. Fighting for Professor Riddle's attention…as if he would be bothered by it.

Harry shrugged, not bothered at all by Draco. He pulled open his book and ignored the four of them, choosing to read ahead for their Charms textbook. Although he had already known almost by heart its contents, he would settle for re-reading it for any loopholes he missed before he got to the Hogwarts library.

Now, that was one thing that got him excited.

The afternoon soon rolled by and the compartment remained virtually undisturbed and quiet except for the witch with her trolley. She knocked by their compartment at half past four, and Harry had quietly waved her away. Draco had looked indignantly at him, and proceeded to halt the witch, before purchasing significant amounts of candy which he shared with his other friends. He did offer one to Harry out of courtesy, but Harry had waved him away irritatedly.

If not for the occasional meaningful glares that Draco sent his way for ignoring any of his attempts to make conversation –or small talk- Harry would have conceded that the potential Slytherins were good company as compared to the boisterous Gryffindors.

The four future Slytherins were quiet for most part and they spoke politely in their haughty pureblood manners inbred within their blood, but they didn't cause a ruckus. Occasionally Harry would hear the loud laughters coming from the other compartments and he would lean back in frustration, wishing to storm off to their cabin and cast a silencing charm upon them. However, the purebloods seemed to have been taught differently, and they observed their behavior and manner of speaking most of the time. Maybe it was because of his presence, but he wasn't too concerned with that.

Thankfully Sirius had never forced him to be an uptight wizard observing proper wizarding protocol. He had learned them, and it seemed natural to him, but he never adopted those protocols unless he needed them.

"So," Draco cleared his throat uncertainly, looking at him meaningfully. Harry glanced up from his book and noticed that twilight had approached them. It was fairly dark outside, and Harry was sure that they were reaching Hogwarts soon. Thankfully, he had already changed into his robes and rid himself of the uncomfortable muggle clothing. "What house are you looking to be sorted to?"

Harry frowned, closing his book and sitting up straighter, having noticed a conversation that seemed more interesting coming along. He didn't answer immediately and Draco prodded on.

"Gryffindor, I suppose?" Draco asked, trading another significant look to Nott. "That was where your parents were. One would think that you would want to go to the house that your ancestors all went in…"

"Well," Harry said slowly. "If you already know what house I would be sorted to, why do you ask me then?"

Draco's eyes were surprised for a moment but he quickly steeled himself. "You don't seem like a Gryffindor. Too quiet."

"And what am I like?"

"Slytherin," Draco said promptly. "Or a Ravenclaw," he continued, his eyes moving towards the book in Harry's hand. "You could fit well into Gryffindor given your Potter blood, but you will never do well there. You don't act like a Gryffindor at all since you are far too mature."

Harry studied Draco for a moment before he replied, "You have been observing me, haven't you?"

A light smile flickered across Draco's face. "Like I said, Harry, you're interesting. And I find myself interested in you and your mannerisms. A little on the strange side, quiet and aloof which makes you the fit the bill of a typical Slytherin. I wouldn't be surprised if Professor Riddle picked you out amongst the students too. An honor, I believe. Father speaks most highly of him."

Harry laughed a little. "Whatever made you think that I am after the attention of Professor Riddle?" he asked, slightly incredulously. He couldn't believe that the blond was still harping on Professor Riddle. Was his life honestly revolved around his professor and getting Riddle's approval?

"Everyone wants the attention of Professor Riddle," Draco stated simply and beside him, Greengrass nodded vigorously, her eyes lighting up.

"I must be the first then," Harry said simply. "And…on other matters, I suppose you are right for once. I'm not looking to be sorted into Gryffindor."

"Where, pray tell, would you be then?" Draco asked in mock surprise.

"Actually, I think he would make a pretty good Slytherin," a third voice piped out from the side. Eyes turned to Zabini who had been quiet for most part of their journey. Seeing the many eyes looking at him curiously, Zabini continued, "One would think that he is suited for Ravenclaw… but those eyes speak differently."

"What about my eyes?" Harry said rather irritatedly.

"They're mysterious and dark. Enchanting even, and a tad too vivid," Zabini recited, as if from memory.

"I would love to continue the discussion on the shade of my eye colour but I'm afraid that this discussion is pointless," Harry said wryly and Zabini's cheeks flushed if only a little. "Well, I take it that all four of you are looking to be sorted to Slytherin, then?"

"Would there be any other house suited for us?" Greengrass asked, now that Zabini had paved open their conversation and the three of them were included in it. "Slytherin house are loyal and breeds only Slytherin."

"Pardon me, but you seem to be suggesting that Sirius was… illegitimate," Harry said lightly, but Greengrass froze, wary if she had offended him.

"I didn't mean it that way," she said carefully, her eyes guarded and watching him intently for a change in reaction.

"I'm sure you didn't," Harry replied bluntly, having nothing else to say to her.

Draco moved slightly, successfully having Harry's attention to him once more. He seemed a little uncertain though, as if he was debating if he should say his next words.

"Is there something you're trying to say, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his mood irritated now.

"You're like a canvas," Draco blurted out and Harry's eyes widened in amusement. He wordlessly invited the disbelief Draco to continue his words. "A blank one too…" his voice trailed off. "I cannot read what you're feeling except for irritation and annoyance. It's like your emotional range is limited, yet I can sense that it surely isn't."

"Touche," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "While I appreciate your analysis of my very being –"

"And there you go again," Nott said piping up to the nods of Zabini and Greengrass. "Being sarcastic and all cynical like on us… it's a little unnerving when you're eleven. You speak like father and the Professor."

Bloody hell. Would every topic with the Slytherins go back to Tom Riddle? Now they were even comparing the pair of them together. It wasn't as if he was trying to mimic his Professor. Then again, the man was the Slytherin's head of house.

"Glad to know," Harry replied dryly, reaching for his book lying abandoned on the seat next to him. He flipped open a page, and started reading, effectively ending their conversation.

For the rest of the journey, the Slytherins spoke in hushed whispers, occasionally sending him an odd look here and there.

Harry looked around his surroundings. He was currently seated in a small boat shared with three other first years and on his way to the great Hogwarts castle. Puzzled why first years had to go to Hogwarts by the sea, he had asked the gamekeeper Hagrid, who told him rather proudly that this had been Dumbledore's idea to allow the first years a great view of the magnificent castle, and a chance to sail in the sea.

Personally, Harry felt that it sounded like a load of rubbish. The students were probably sorted into different means of entering the castle so as to ensure that the traffic was not too cluttered, but it didn't exactly matter to him.

He turned back to the other first years he shared the boat with, catching part of their conversation. It appeared that they were talking about the sorting of their houses.

"… Fred was saying I had to fight a troll in order to be sorted to Gryffindor!" a freckly red head was proclaiming rather loudly to the other three. "He'll kill me if I get sorted to Hufflepuff, or worse Slytherin!"

"No you don't have to kill a troll," a bushy haired girl exclaimed, aghast. "All you have to do is put on the sorting hat!"

"The sorting hat?" Weasley echoed. "Whatever for?"

"To sort you into your houses…Personally I'm looking for Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. I heard Slytherin's been the house for dark witches a wizards," Granger's voice dropped dramatically into a hushed whisper.

"Exactly!" cried Weasley. "Though Professor Riddle is the head of Slytherin… Merlin knows that Defense Against the Dark Arts is the only class that I'm looking forward to…" his voice had a dreamy quality in it.

Harry rolled his eyes, and settled to looking at his surroundings and ignored their attempts to talk to him. The boat crossed the lake relatively quickly due to magic and they had reached the shore safely in fifteen minutes. By the time they stepped out of the boat though, their shoes were wet and Harry impatiently casted a cleaning charm. Judging by Weasley's sudden interested and calculative eyes, Harry guessed that the redhead was about to ask him to dry his shoes too, and he quickly moved away from the group.

The first years stood together at the entrance leading to the Great Hall when the doors opened slightly to reveal Professor Riddle. The moment the man entered, the chattering first years fell silent and all of them gave their full attention to the Deputy Headmaster. He was tall and confident, and Harry could feel a calming but powerful air surrounding the man in lazy waves. At that moment, Harry was unsurprised why many of the students fell over their feet to impress the man. He was indeed powerful in all his right, perhaps even as powerful as Dumbledore himself.

"Good evening, first years," Professor Riddle said, flashing a smile at the crowd of silent, nervous first years. "In a few minutes time, you'll be called into the Great Hall to commence your sorting. Now for those of you who do not know, Hogwarts comprises of four houses, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff…."

Riddle continued on, explaining each house in brief detail and Harry allowed his mind to wander elsewhere, not really paying attention to his professor since he already knew the four houses quite well. The students fell into quiet murmurs as time went on and it was only when he felt the silence again that he looked up, to find Riddle's striking red eyes staring at him intently.

"Is that so, Mr Potter?" Riddle asked, the predatory red eyes fixed on him.

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered automatically, having no idea what the professor had just been talking about. Gasps from the students nearby made him realize that that was the wrong answer.

Harry allowed himself one glance at the professor's eyes and shivered internally at the piercing gaze, before forcing himself to look away. It wasn't like he didn't want to hold his gaze, but those eyes seemed dangerous… Hell, Harry knew the professor was powerful – too dangerous.

A jab in the ribs woke him up from his slight trance. He turned furiously to the offender to meet shocked brown eyes. "He just asked you if all Slytherins were evil!" Bushy-haired hissed dramatically from his right. Harry blinked, wondering when did she appear next to him when they had been meters apart before Riddle arrived.

"Pay attention next time, Mr Potter, and leave your dreams till the night," Riddle said curtly, a warning look in his eyes as he moved on.

Harry glared at the offending professor, wondering why the professor was singling him amongst the different students. The professor did appreciate talent, but he didn't make it a point to single a particular student out to embarrass them… and Riddle did know that he was daydreaming.

Had he offended the Professor in some way, before the sorting even began?

Harry shook himself out of those thoughts, determine to not let it bother him. After all, it was only one professor that seemed to have an uncanny grudge or some sort against him, and it didn't matter… right? Never mind that the professor had great authority within the school or that the student population was rather defensive about their favorite professor.

It was five minutes later when Riddle concluded his long speech, and Harry sighed quietly in relief that his professor hadn't picked on him again. He had tried to pay attention this time, but it was hard not to let his thoughts wander off, especially with that soothing voice of Riddle… not that the man would ever get the satisfaction of knowing.

A few more instructions later, and the first years including himself were ready to go. As Professor Riddle waved his wand slightly, the doors leading to the Great Hall opened wide for the first years to pass. They scrambled to fall into two neat rows under Riddle's watchful eyes as they made their way towards the front of the Great Hall, where Harry could see the patched old sorting hat from his position at the far back.

Unconcerned with the murmurings of the older students as the first years filed in, Harry observed the surroundings around him, and mostly, the professors. They were not quite what he had imagined with their less than impressive stance, but they looked quite alright nevertheless. As he approached the sorting hat however, he suddenly felt a brief flare of… magic touch him.

He turned left, his eyes previously on Professor Snape's form to meet the curious blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster. Dumbledore was every bit of what Sirius had described him to be – eccentric, twinkling blue eyes and a long beard. But what intrigued him was the power, the magic that flowed off his very being in waves. It was similar to Riddle's and he doubted there was much difference in their intensities, but now that he had a comparison, Dumbledore's magic felt much lighter as to Riddle's heavy, seductive one.

Harry frowned, wondering if the other students could feel the magic surrounding the two Headmasters. He was sure he wasn't reading auras, for he could only feel the magic of very powerful wizards, but it seemed as though no one else was particularly awed or bothered by the magic either. Sighing, Harry mentally placed these thoughts to the back of his mind to research on later.

"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts!" Dumbledore said warmly, his eyes twinkling as he stood up, his arms outstretched to welcome the first years. "Now as Professor Riddle here," he gestured to Riddle who was standing at the platform with the sorting hat in the chair beside him, "has briefed you, you are about to be sorted into your houses. Professor, please begin the sorting."

"Abbott, Hannah," Riddle called loud and clearly. A small girl with pigtails detached herself from the straggle of first years and nervously made her away to the sorting hat, casting glances left and right.

She gingerly placed the sorting hat on her head and it was moments later when the hat declared her to be a Hufflepuff. Relieved but looking slightly disappointed, Abbott had quickly made her way to her house that was clapping enthusiastically.

The sorting carried on, but the number of students soon dwindled until it was his turn.

"Potter, Harry," Riddle said in the same monotonous tone, but when Harry moved his eyes up to his Professor's, he could have sworn he saw a slight curiosity and eagerness in Riddle's eyes.

Harry made his way confidently to the sorting hat, aware of the few murmurs from the purebloods that recognized his name but he didn't let it bother him. His eyes was upon the sorting hat which had a strange air around it.

He raised his hand and touched the hat, before placing it on his head…

"Ravenclaw!"

And then it was over. Harry glanced up to see the sea of students glancing at him, and the Ravenclaw table clapping politely at the new addition. Suddenly, he felt a sharp flare of magic from his left and turned before he could help himself, to meet the carefully controlled eyes of Riddle. Harry frowned in that split second, wondering what lay behind the unexpressive eyes of Riddle, but whatever it was, he couldn't tell what Riddle was thinking.

Not that it mattered, right? Harry thought dimly to himself as he made his way slowly to the Ravenclaw table. The students parted to create a space for him and he settled down.

Glancing around at the Great Hall from his new position, Harry realized that nothing much had changed. He had expected to get into Ravenclaw given his bookish nature and he didn't want to go to Gryffindor or Slytherin whereby those houses were plagued with that much prejudice. But now as his eyes followed Riddle's form, he wondered what it would have been like if he had been in Slytherin, where Riddle was the Head of House.

What was wrong with him? Hours ago, he had vowed that he would never become another wizard falling over his feet to gain approval and recognition from Riddle, yet his thoughts kept wandering back to the man now.

He would have to keep his behavior in check, he decided. This strange attraction towards the Professor had to be common… right? All the students must have felt it, and experienced what he had so that they held Riddle in so much awe and fascination. He still couldn't help the strange feeling within him though.

Nor could he help the smug voice in his head telling him that there was more to it.