The next morning Tom woke up and almost expected to see the gray, peeling ceiling of the orphanage back in London

The next morning Tom woke up and almost expected to see the gray, peeling ceiling of the orphanage back in London. Instead, he was shocked to realize that this was not a dream, and that he was really at Hogwarts. Allowing himself a small smile, he sat up and looked around. The other boys in his dormitory were slowly beginning to awake as well, so Tom took advantage of their grogginess and went to use the bathroom.

A half hour later Tom was eating his first Hogwarts breakfast. Considering that the orphanage served porridge and orange juice for breakfast, this was quite nice in comparison. There was bacon, eggs, toast, marmalade, cereal and much more. Tom had never seen such a spread, and therefore served himself a bit of everything. Though it was quite busy in the Great Hall, it was enjoyable to have a chance to eat without younger children bustling around him.

Tom glanced up as a burst of complaints were issued down the table.

"Transfiguration! With the Gryffindors! That's not fair, Professor!" said a rather distraught Slytherin. The portly man beside him chuckled.

"Don't worry, dear children! They won't curse you…Or at least they usually don't." said the man. Tom assumed he was the head of Slytherin. He was walking down the table, handing out papers to each student.

"Ah, first years!" said the man cheerfully. Tom wondered how a man could look so happy at seeing new students. "Here you are!" He said, handing each a paper. Tom looked at his. It appeared to be a schedule. His first class was Potions, and was starting in ten minutes, so Tom quickly finished his last bite, swung his worn out knapsack over his shoulder and made his way to the grand oak doors of the Great Hall. Upon glancing over his shoulder, Tom saw Dumbledore's recognizable auburn beard. Was it just his imagination, or had Dumbledore seemed to watch him very keenly? Tom shook his head quickly, as if he had found a fly on his nose and was trying to shake it off.

The journey down to the dungeon was rather uneventful. Tom passed older students who didn't look like they cared whether they were late or not and some who were walking quickly as he was, perhaps anxious to start their lessons, or maybe because they didn't want to get punished.

When Tom entered the Potions classroom, he found it to be almost empty. Shrugging, he made his way to a table nearby and took out his cauldron, ingredients, books and cauldron and arranged them neatly. Five minutes later, the classroom was filled, the bell rang and the portly man from earlier stumbled into the room, smiling hugely.

"Welcome, welcome! I am Professor Slughorn, and I teach – obviously – Potions!" Professor Slughorn looked almost too happy to be there. Professor Slughorn moved in front of his desk, clasped his hands together and began to speak.

"As I know some of you are muggle-born, and will probably be wondering if we are going to be brewing poison or some evil potion made by a warty witch from a fairy tale." There was some nervous chuckles around the room. Apparently, some had been thinking this. "The answer is no. For one thing, poisons are quite difficult to make and will only be researched on for now."

Professor Slughorn then proceeded to talk about the art of potion making, the uses of the ingredients, potions they would attempt to make at some point in the year and many other things that were not exactly interesting, but Tom listened carefully all the same. If he was to prove himself, he would need to know these things.

Next was Transfiguration with Dumbledore. Dumbledore, too, was cheery, but once he got down to business he was serious enough. Transfiguration turned out to be a very interesting subject; Tom just wasn't so sure he liked the wizard teaching it.

Dumbledore was giving off an aura of being a very kind person, perhaps too kind. A caring person, but one who wouldn't pay attention to one's needs when trying to help that person. He was also very, very observant. It was as if he could survey the entire room with one glance, and with that glance see every single visual detail of everything and everyone. This was quite unnerving to Tom. He was so accustomed to having people ignore him or never pay attention to things that were right in front of them. Like, for example, with his magic. Fools.

Then there was Charms with Professor Stonar, who was very strict and not pleasant at all. That was how it was supposed to be with teachers, and so Tom ended up liking this teacher best so far.

Herbology didn't appeal very much to Tom. Sure, it was useful in potion making and in medicine, but it was so mundane. There was nothing to learn, nothing all that magical about it. It was like gardening, which Tom had never enjoyed, but with very odd plants.

History of Magic was…odd. A ghost, named Professor Binns, was their teacher, and the fact that he was a ghost made it even more odd. Professor Binns liked to talk in a monotonous voice, which was a very good thing. Tom often got distracted by the emotions and tones in people's voices and found this flat, dead voice to be helpful for him to concentrate. The odd thing was that all the other students seemed to be in a trance of some sort. Some were sleeping, some were staring into space, and some were doing random things that were irrelevant to the subject. Learning the history of the magical world was fascinating, in Tom's opinion.

What seemed to be the worst class was flying lessons. Once a week, Tom and his classmates had flying lessons. Everyone was so excited to fly; Tom wasn't looking forward to it much. In fact, it got quite boring. Preferring the idea of a challenge, Tom quickly dismissed flying as unimportant and not interesting at all, considering that he got the flying down pat after being in the air only once.

Then there was Defense Against the Dark Arts, the best of them all. This was a class to help them learn how to defend one's self in a duel (and how to duel as well, of course). The textbook mentioned curses, hexes and jinxes that Tom was so eager to discover and to try, but they were for higher grade levels and he didn't want to get in trouble. What interested him most was the idea of "Dark Arts" itself. Of doing sacred rituals, dark, ancient magic, it was all so intriguing.

The day flew by quickly. Soon Tom was back in the great hall, eating dinner and trying to ignore the fact that Dumbledore was watching him closely. It seemed like he was doing that all day. Perhaps the professor was just making sure he was settling in well, he reasoned. After all, he did give off an air of over-kindness.

Soon they were all back in the dormitory, preparing for bed. There was am awkward, tense silence that filled the room, yet Tom didn't mind the silence as much as the other boys did. Finally, one of them spoke.

"So, uh…What do you guys think of this place?" asked Antonin Dolohov, gesturing vaguely at the dormitory.

"I like it." Septimus Nott said. "It's very homey, I think." Tom snorted quietly, and the boy reeled around to face him, squinting in an unfriendly way at him. "You got a problem?"

"No, no, nothing." Tom said innocently. Nott huffed at him and turned to face the others, not noticing the grimace Tom made at his back. The others sniggered.

"I think we should get to know each other better," Nott announced firmly. "...We can all be friends, can't we?"

The boys nodded in agreement, Tom doing so hesitantly. He liked to work alone.

And so the six boys talked for a few minutes, though Tom gave little contribution. The five other boys seemed rather wary of him, but he paid no attention. What did they matter?

Author's Note: Hope you guys liked the chapter… I wasn't sure if Binns would be ok for HOM, since he was a teacher during Harry's time, but I figured that he's a ghost, and most of them seemed to have been hanging around for quite a while. Until next time, please review!