AN: Thank you everyone for reading and doing something in relation to this fic (continuously thanking people for reviewing/following/favoriting was getting a little annoying).

I know that it's a bit unrealistic for the adoption rate to be high at a time like this, but I was in a very good mood when I was writing the first chapter. Just understand it as high in comparison to the other orphanages.

Anyways, here's another chapter for all of you!

"Slytherin is the outcast house," Nara Nott, the fifth year female prefect, said, halfway through her speech, "Our relationships with the other houses are less than amiable. This is why we must present a united front. All conflicts should be solved within the common room, away from prying eyes..."

Abraxas already knew this speech. His father had told him that it was more or less the same every year. A talk on how the Slytherin house works, the hierarchy, who one should defer to. His father also kept on emphasizing how he should seize control, be the best, since he was a Malfoy. So, Abraxas tuned it all out.

His eyes drifted towards Riddle.

Riddle's magic was still being restrained which irked Abraxas for some reason. The first years had given him a wide berth and only Abraxas and Cassius were even moderately close to him, Abraxas standing next to him and Cassius standing next to Abraxas. The older students were either ignoring Riddle or shooting him disdainful glances, but Riddle's expression was as cool as ice, no emotion visible.

His eyes then drifted towards the group of four sitting on the comfiest couches near the fireplace. They were at the top, Abraxas knew. The leader, Caesar Carrow, caught him looking and gave him a slight smile of acknowledgement before looking elsewhere.

Of course Abraxas would be acknowledged, he was a Malfoy. It was too bad that no one realized Riddle's power.

Oh well, that was too bad for them. It just gave him more of a chance to get his lord's favor. Unfortunately, supporting Riddle openly now would be social suicide, but it didn't mean that couldn't support the other in secret.

Cassius knew that his friend, Abaraxas, was infatuated with Riddle. It was obvious to anyone who had a brain that wouldn't go into denial which was, unfortunately, not as many as he would have liked in Slytherin.

After a few days of careful observation, Cassius could safely say that he, too, was drawn to that enigma.

With what he had seen, it was highly possible that Riddle was a Parselmouth. His snake, Nagini, followed him absolutely everywhere, and even the craziest of wizards wouldn't be able to control such a dangerous snake, but Nagini was putty in Riddle's hands.

Cassius was nothing if not observant and he could understand his friend's desire to worship and look up to Riddle. Even though he lacked Abraxas' ability to judge people and sense magic, Cassius made a great spy.

Riddle's trunk and other belongings were warded heavily with spells he doubted even the seventh graders knew. Cassius would know, since four people had been sent to the hospital wing already, attempting to tamper with Riddle's stuff.

Cassius had also seen Riddle do wandless magic. He didn't do it often and only when he thought there weren't any people around. He didn't show even a scrap of his true talent when there were people, playing the innocent, poor, but lucky orphan. Although, Riddle topped all his classes, anyways. He only needed to do any spell once before he mastered it, his potions were very much precise and he was only one step behind Eileen Prince in terms of ability, which was saying something because the Prince family were renowned for their talent in potions.

Many people thought Riddle was incredibly lucky since he got away from all and any attempts at humiliation and harm unscathed. Usually, the instigators of these incidents were also caught or had their plot somehow backfire on them, but not many caught on, too caught up in their denial.

Cassius was just glad that he wasn't one of these people. He was nowhere near strong enough to go against Riddle nor was he bold enough.

None of them should be.

Harry really couldn't believe it, but he was annoyed. Annoyance was something that he hadn't felt in a long time because mostly, things like this are amusing when you've lived for so long. He was almost tempted to just give up on being a Dark Lord and be a healer instead if it meant that he wouldn't have to deal with these people. He almost admired Tom Riddle (as in the Tom Riddle that wasn't him) for enduring his road to power.

There was only so much stupidity, cowardliness, and unjustified arrogance that one could take before they snapped and Crucio'ed someone.

Luckily for certain people, Harry wasn't someone who would do that. At least, not at this stage. He hadn't earned their respect yet, and they hadn't earned his. Well, except for Abraxas. Something told him that the Malfoy was rather smart and talented.

It was only the fact that it would just be odd to quit before he finished coupled with the fact that They apparently wanted him to do this that he endured.

Harry was so very bored. And that was mainly what was annoying him, actually.

He had been sneered at, ignored, pranked (not that it succeeded) and a target for humiliation, however unsuccessful those attempts were. Other than that though, no one had actually confronted him. The first and second years were now terrified of him and the rest never went for direct confrontation as long as he stayed away from them. It seemed that they didn't deem him important enough to be dealt with. Even though he was top in every single class. Of course, he made sure not to be too good at things and didn't reveal his ability for wandless, wordless and motionless magic at all.

If that was the case, then Harry would have to push them a little. He didn't like being looked down upon.

That was what he was doing, currently lounging upon the very best armchair in the common room. The younger Slytherins were staying far from him some looking smug that there was sure to be a direct confrontation that would finally send him packing, others looking scared because they weren't ready to witness violence or that they were just scared of Harry. Abraxas was looking concerned for him because even though Abraxas' family had power and people expected him to become the next top dog, he wasn't very close to the top of the hierarchy currently and wasn't allowed in one of these chairs unless he was ready to fight and win for it.

Which Harry was.

"Riddle," a voice finally hissed with poorly concealed anger.

Harry hummed a little and looked up from Nagini who was mostly hidden under his robes. Four teens, Caesar Carrow, Nero Jugson, Glenwood Selwyn and Valerius Bulstrode, the elite in their little Slytherin society, were standing beside the chair, surrounding it and glaring down at him.

Harry slouched further into the comfy chair and smiled sweetly, making Carrow, the leader, twitch with annoyance. "Can I help you?"

A snarl came out of Bulstrode's mouth. "You little shit, get out of that chair!" He almost yelled.

"I'm sorry," Harry raised his eyebrows, "I didn't hear that, could you be any louder?"

"Why you!" Bulstrode lurched forwards, his blue eyes angry. However, Carrow stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder and glaring.

"What makes you think I shouldn't be in this chair?" Harry asked further.

"Mudblood, you aren't even worthy enough to kiss my boots," it was Carrow this time, "what makes you think you deserve to sit in my chair?"

"What makes you think you deserve this chair that is currently in my possession?"

Carrow growled. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Mudblood," he whipped out his wand, "Get out now and I'll let you go easy this time. Don't think that just because your academics is decent that you're so high and mighty. You're nothing but a speck of dirt."

"I could say the same to you, inbred fool*," Harry merely drawled, smirking. He could see the vein jumping on Carrow's head.

"Why you little!" The teen roared, beyond angry that Harry would dare talk to him like that. He brandished his wand at Harry, a curse at the tip of his tongue.

But Harry was already prepared. "Nagini, incapacitate him!" He hissed.

The female snake moved lightning fast, twisting around Carrow in a tight bind, and Carrow's spell died on his lips when he came face to face with the angry six foot snake. His face paled drastically as the coils around his neck began to tighten and his breaths came out in desperate gasps. Harry smiled slightly. He had been steadily pushing his magic into his familiar, making her stronger, faster than she already was.

"How dare you even consider hurting my master, puny little wizard!" The snake hissed with the fury of a mother protecting her young, "You aren't even as significant as the mice I hunt!"

Carrow was becoming blue at an alarming rate, Nagini's anger overriding her judgement. The other three had backed off at the sight of the obviously very magical and very dangerous snake.

They were confused, Harry deducted. It was obvious. They had thought that they were attacking a defenseless Muggleborn, but, in reality, they were poking a sleeping dragon. A sleeping dragon that may or may not be able to communicate with snakes. They had, obviously, heard and seen him hiss, they were just needing time to process it.

"Nagini, be careful, he's very fragile, after all. We wouldn't want him to die on us. It would cause trouble," Harry hissed, the words falling from his lips silkily. Immediately, Nagini loosened her hold so that she wasn't crushing Carrow's windpipe. The teen staggered and gasped for air, trying desperately to stay on his feet. The other three were staring at him now and just about everyone else, too. They had all gone silent when the confrontation started and his hissed words had the same effect as shouting.

Everyone had heard.

Harry smirked a little.

Good.

"Nagini, force him to his knees."

Nagini jerked her body towards Harry and tightened her grip momentarily, bringing Carrow crashing to his knees.

"Now," Harry said quietly, inwardly sighing at the fact that he had to do something like this, "Say you're sorry..."

Carrow just growled and glared up at him, anger written in every feature. No one dared to help him.

Harry glared back, annoyed.

There was a crack and a chocked scream and Carrow gasped in pain as his wrist was broken by an invisible force.

"We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Say, 'I'm sorry, please forgive me.' I think you can do it. You can't be that stupid, after all." Harry didn't feel much remorse for what he had done. Carrow should've recognized the danger, Harry was giving off a rather strong magical aura after all and Carrow was a Slytherin. He had let all his magic out to play, allowing it to dance teasingly through the air, captivating everyone.

Carrow stuttered something but it was too quiet to hear.

"What was that? Look at me when you speak, Carrow," Harry murmured, fiddling with a lock of his hair.

Carrow was unable to make eye contact with Harry when he looked up, but Harry could see the new emotion in his eyes, fear. But there was also a certain insanity in them and a giddy respect directed towards him, not unlike the look Abraxas had given him on the train. It was probably a side effect of his magic and Harry didn't really like that look. It was too unstable and reminded him of a certain Lestrange all too much.

When Carrow spoke, he was breathless and stuttered through the sentence, apologizing almost mindlessly.

"Good. Nagini, you can let him go now," Harry hissed. Nagini spat out another threat, getting a flinch in return, and slithered around his neck, smugness radiating from her. Harry then stood and walked back to his dormitory without another word, leaving the common room in stunned silence. He would finish his book there.

That wasn't so bad, was it, little master?

By the second day, most of the Slytherins avoided him like the plague.

Horace Slughorn never thought he would be so eager to attend a staff meeting ever. He was quite the materialistic man and loved socializing with all sorts of people. He was a collector and enjoyed watching the students he had tutored grow into powerful, influential people. Thusly, he quite enjoyed the staff meetings where he would listen about his students' achievements in other classes. But he had never been this eager.

The reason for his eagerness was because of one student called Tom Riddle.

Tom was a delightful student with a great ability for brewing precise and powerful potions. The boy had much magical potential and his magic sometimes bled into his potions without him realizing, enhancing his potions' effect. The young boy was also infinitely polite and, despite his apparent Muggleborn status, well versed in pureblood traditions and ways. The grace with which he walked, his mannerisms, the way he talked... It was all like how a pureblood heir would act. Tom was also already forming connections outside Slytherin. Just the other day, he had found Tom having a pleasant conversation with Charlus Potter. Which was odd because Charlus, while polite and at peace with just about everyone, was very guarded against most Slytherins and didn't really become friendly with them until after knowing them for a long time.

Yesterday morning though, was when he really saw the potential in Tom. He had just walked in form breakfast when he realized that the seating arrangement on the Slytherin table had changed. And Tom was sitting right in the middle, the other students giving him a wide berth. Not long afterwards, Abraxas Malfoy and Cassius Lestrange had seated themselves on either side of Tom and not long after that, Carrow and his group, the leaders of Slytherin, had seated themselves opposite Riddle with a little hesitation. That was a great difference from the indifference they had shown Tom before and it all changed overnight.

Horace was sure Tom would become a very great wizard in the future, he just needed confirmation from his fellow colleagues.

"Ah, Horace," the door opened and in walked Albus Dumbledore. "First to arrive, I see."

"Albus," Horace returned a jovial smile, putting down the potions book he had been reading, "You're rather early yourself! Usually, you are the last one here, Albus."

"Yes, you see, I accidentally set my alarm an hour early today and had nothing to do. So, I decided to come here early." Albus took out a bowl from who knows where and popped a candy into his mouth. He then offered one to Horace. "Licorice Snap?"

"Sure," Horace took the offered candy and chew it absentmindedly.

It wasn't long after that the rest of the staff arrived.

"So," Armando Dippet, the headmaster began, "Have there been any problems in class?"

"Not really," Dumbledore said, "This year's new students are surprisingly docile."

"And the students that aren't are mainly the same old," Galatea Merrythought chimed in.

"I suspect a quiet year this year," Silvanus Kettleburn muttered, sounding pleased.

"Even though Weasley and Carrow are still going at it?" Herbert Beery asked, amusement tinting his voice.

"At least Potter has gone from instigator to mediator recently," Kettleburn growled.

"Yes, he is, at least, taking the NEWTs seriously just as he did with the OWLs. He has a lot of potential, that one," Horace added.

"What about the first years, then?" Dippet asked, steering the topic away. "Any one promising?"

At once, Horace could see most of the staff's eyes lighting up.

"Oh yes! That Tom Riddle! He's practically a Defense prodigy!" Merrythought added, looking proud, "He's never gotten less than Outstanding on his essays and mastered every spell so far with ease!"

"I dare say there will be another an animagus running around soon," Dumbledore chortled jovially, "Riddle has performed outstandingly in Transfiguration."

"He's got a green thumb, too," Beery added, "He'd make the perfect Prince Charming in the next Christmas play!"

"His charms are simply marvolous!"

"That boy sure can fly. If he became a professional Quidditch player, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Really? He seems like a very talented boy... I do hope he'll be interested in Ancient Runes!"

"And Arithmancy!"

"I wonder if he's a seer...?"

"Horace, do you have anything else to add about Riddle? You are his head of house, after all," Dippet said, turning everyone's attention to Horace.

Horace smiled, smug that Riddle had been sorted into his house. "That boy will sure go far. There isn't a thing he isn't talented at. His potions are perfectly done and he knows his theory well. He's such an incredibly polite, intelligent and nice boy, I'm almost surprised that he's in my house!" Horace gave a jovial laugh at this point. "He has gotten his housemates and students from other houses to warm up to him greatly. Why, I saw him joking with Charlus Potter the other day. He's earned his house's respect and that's nothing to laugh at. We Slytherins do tend to be a bit, well, you know..."

Horace had really struck gold this time.

Riddle really was the model student.

*I changed it from Salope as a kind reviewer informed me what it really meant.