A/N: Okay guys, I took some serious liberties with this since I'm a sucker for details and I love designing schedules (I've had to before for RPs I do). Here I referenced the HPLexicon for class schedules and there was a general order for the canon times given for classes, but certain things don't make sense and apparently it isn't known what time breakfast, lunch and dinner is shown, so I made my own schedule up, based loosely off the HP Lexicon. Don't hate me. One of the most confusing things I found about Rowling's class schedules is apparently some normal classes are references as being an hour and a half long, while some double classes, such as Double Potions, is also referred to as being an hour and a half long. Since I am American, and I know our school systems differ a lot, I based it more on my college system.
Also, since Umbridge isn't the professor, I didn't think she'd be able to come and "investigate" the school until a later date, but don't worry, she'll be along. Also, I'm not a fan of how this chapter panned out, it felt both bunched together and to stretched out, but I've been sitting on it for a couple days and I cleaned it up the best I could. I really need an active beta.
"Oh no you don't! Don't you walk away from me!" Reina screeched loudly and Tom rubbed his temples as he leaned heavily against the wall of the living room.
"You're going to wake-" Tom started, his tones still quiet, but she butted in again, "I don't care, this is ridiculous! I see you once every month, and don't you dare try to tell me you floo every night, it's not the same bloody thing! I want to go back to work!" She snapped.
He was losing his patience and he had to breathe heavily threw his nose to keep from shouting back. "Then do it!"
"What about Lilith!?" She demanded hotly.
"Leave her with your mother, leave her with my father! Bring her to the bloody school for all I care!" He snapped. "You're the one who wanted to be home for her!"
"I thought you'd be around!" She yelled, picking up a pillow from the couch and throwing it at him roughly.
"You knew I wasn't going to give up my position!" He sneered.
"So you'd give up your wife?" She demanded putting her hands on her hips.
He paused and stared at her, his eyes crossing. She'd threatened to leave him and take Lilith and unfortunately more often than he'd care to admit, she'd gotten her way because of it. "Yes, because me giving up my position to work full time at the Ministry would mean I'd be home so much more often," he drawled nastily.
"Tom Riddle I bloody well mean it this time," She hissed, chucking one of Lilith's toys at him, which he caught before it could hit him in the face. "I will go back to stay with my mum!"
"I won't have you using our daughter as some sort of leverage against me!" He growled, clenching his fisted and throwing the doll back to the couch. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.
"I'm not you selfish prick! I'm sick of this! Sick of you, sick of this house, sick of having to play little mommy and you only are around for the best parts of being daddy!" Her voiced hitched up in volume again and he could hear one of their owls in the kitchen fluttering its wings indignantly.
"What do you bloody well want from me then!?" He asked.
"I want a divorce."
How calmly she said it threw him a bit and he had to literally bite his tongue to try and sort out the mess in his head. "We've been over this."
"No, we discussed how we both agree split custody wouldn't work for us. Just, take Lilith back to the school with you tomorrow and…" She sat down slowly on the couch and rubbed her temples. "It's not bloody fair how much she adores you for the little bit of time she sees you and it's driving me spare. She doesn't behave for me, and I, I need a break."
Part of him couldn't quite believe she'd give up their daughter, but the other part wasn't willing to question it. "So what, raise her at Hogwarts?"
She glared at him hard again and he rubbed his face again. "Yes."
There was little else to say after that. What else was there to say? There was no love lost between the pair since the decline in their relationship over the past four years, and Reina didn't mind moving back home to her mother and father. She'd always disliked their home in Little Hangleton, complaining about moving back to London every chance she'd had.
No, instead of dwelling on it, he left. It was still relatively early in the evening and he went to the only place in the area he dared to go. His father's home. Mansion, whatever it pleased the old man to call it. He'd since been set up on the floo network several years before when Tom junior had explained how it worked to him, and right then Tom much preferred to be as far from Reina as possible when he made his floo call to Dumbledore.
Tom senior was asleep when his son let himself into the family home. They were still awkward around each other, never quite coming to the father and son relationship they both knew they should have, but rather like… cousins or family of a sort.
Conjuring some flames in the fireplace, he tossed the powder in and called for Dumbledore quietly, the man answering in short order. Much to his surprise, the conversation wasn't too long. Tom had never seen another professor have their family live on the campus, but he supposed it wasn't unheard of. Dumbledore promised he'd make the accommodations to his rooms in the dungeons the following morning and Tom pulled back with a heavy sigh.
Tom woke up early. He was generally an early riser, but in the summer he always found himself sleeping in until eight or sometimes nine and he'd need to be up early for any morning classes Albus had given him. Emerging into the little living and dining area of his rooms, he found a copy of the Prophet and said schedule for his classes. He skimmed over the list, glad for the lack of a morning class on Fridays and the second period break on Mondays and Wednesdays. He'd need it before dealing with a Gryffindor-Slytherin class. He was also going to have to begin remember his days of the weeks again and was suddenly very grateful that September first had landed on a Friday that particular year, giving him a weekend to quietly immerse into life at Hogwarts before being thrown to the wolves, or snakes, lions, ravens and badgers, in this case.
With this in mind, he set out to reacquaint himself with the castle and its occupants. They's likely begin meeting for dinner as the train pulled into the station, so he had plenty of time to spare. And time was not currently his friend.
That day, as Tom moved through the campus, he had no less than three panic attacks. He was certain they could have been worse since he mostly just found he lacked the capacity to breathe, but if being in Grimmauld place triggered the flow of anxiety-inducing memories, then he wasn't quite sure how he thought he'd be able to handle Hogwarts. He'd raised his only daughter in the school, watched children grow to adults and find their places in life here.
He found early on that apparently Hagrid was gone from his hut and would learn later that he was doing business for the Order and would have a substitute for his classes until he returned, and instead moved to examine the Greenhouses and shook the hands of Pomona Sprout, still head of Hufflepuff house, introducing himself. Pomona, like Minerva, had been behind him far enough in school that she either didn't make the connection of who he was, or Albus had already informed her and she did not care. Either way he spent a little bit of the morning chatting with the pleasant woman and discussing classes and the students.
He found Minerva next, but the woman was finishing up last minute lesson plans and clearly had little patience for him, so he cleared out rather quickly and instead moved to find Albus, who he had seen but once or twice since he'd been dropped at Grimmauld Place.
The Headmaster was also gone from campus and that was about when the first panic attack led on, though he had it under control in only a few minutes, his breathing slowly evening before deciding to head back to his rooms for the rest of the day. The rest of the day was spent on the edge of the Forbidden Forest and the Quidditch Pitch. He wondered if Rolanda Hooch was still the Flying instructor, and if she would kill him terribly if he happened to break into the quidditch shed to borrow a broom for a bit. It was Filius, as that moment, who triggered the second panic attack, who surprised him so thoroughly he nearly tripped on the short man. Flitwick had been a professor when he had taught there and looked no worse for wear than Tom remembered him, albeit a bit older than the Filius from his world. The war, the war that Voldemort had brought upon them, had seemed to have aged many of them.
"Sorry," Tom apologized as he rubbed his face with his hands. "I, you surprised me."
Instead Filius nodded understandingly and answered him some questions about the change in the school from one world to the other, something Pomona hadn't known or thought to do, and something he doubted Minerva had the patience for. Tom quickly discovered that this Hogwarts had fewer students than his own, as well as less electives as a result. More muggle like classes that could be carried out in spare time or clubs, such as music and art, literature and the like, had been bumped in favor of more magical classes. Such a shame.
As they talked besides the classes he learned had been dropped, the only other major change in staff he could make note was the appearance of Sybil Trelawney, who had somehow acquired the position of Divination professor. Tom had never put much stock in Divination, but at least he had a fair amount of respect for those who could understand it better than he.
The pair headed back towards the castle to dress formally for the welcoming feast and prepare the arrival of the students. Despite going through the same motions he did every year, or nearly the same motions, considering he was back in the Defense professor's rooms and not the Head of Slytherin's room in the dungeons, he still could feel an anxious ball in his stomach, no unlike the way he'd felt the first year of teaching. Nerves. He shooed them off. As a younger man he'd pretended he didn't get nervous, as it was what was taught in Slytherin, but after having spent a decent amount of time in the real world he knew it would unhealthy to try and hide every little thing behind a mask. Besides, nerves were expected of a new teacher, were they not? Especially one coming into a position that was rumored to be cursed, and even more so given the track record of what had happened to the last professors, having heard about it all from Remus whilst discussing the classes.
Most of the professors were already taking their seats at the staff table located at the end of the Great Hall, running perpendicular to the rest of the tables designated for the different houses. Some gave him simple nods and smiles in the form of a greeting while others watched him warily. He wondered if they were simply suspicious or if they had some inkling of who he was, but instead was relieved when Filius traded with the Astronomy professor to take a seat beside him.
Then the waiting began. He resisted the urge to tap his foot and instead talked quietly with Filius and introduced himself to the other professors that were sitting nearby, including the Muggle Studies professor, Burbage, and Sinistra, said Astronomy professor. Their discussions quieted, but did not cease as the students trickled in, each grouping off to their own tables, the night having finally completely descended on them. He looked around to see Albus who had finally returned from whatever it was he'd been up to, but the man avoided his gaze. Tom frowned but decided it was likely best to not dwell on it.
He didn't know what he expected, but… there they all were. Or most of them, at least, his older students. Some were missing, likely simply didn't exist in this world, or they looked slightly different than he recalled, but there they were, his students. The ones that bothered him the most, he supposed, were the Slytherins, who were even more secluded from the rest than normal and were looking at the rest of the students with cold calculating eyes he was certain he'd only seen in a few of his students in the year prior. Not the entire house.
A few of the ghosts were floating on through the walls, likely having stopped to chat with the first years who were tucked in the antechamber off to the side, waiting to be brought along. The room quieted as the doors of the antechamber opened and Minerva led the two rows of students past the tables and towards the staff table, the Sorting Hat and a stool in hand. Tom sat up a little, eager to see the new students. Seeing the changes in his current ones was beginning to wear on him.
Despite the change in the students themselves, nearly all of them, every year without fail, all bore that same scared and anxious expression. The paused at the base of the high table as Minerva sat down the stool and placed the ancient and heavily patched wizard's hat upon the stool. Nearly all of the prattle of the students and staff died away as Minerva stepped away and many of the first years stared wide-eyed at the hat. After a few silent moments, the large half stitched rip near the brim of the hat opened wide into a smug grin.
"In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
"Together we will build and teach!"
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest."
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,"
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same."
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pureblood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within.
I have told you, I have warned you. …
Let the Sorting now begin."
Most years after the Sorting Hat sang it's song, the students and staff would great out into a boisterous applause of hoots and whistles. However, Tom could not recall the hat ever sing about something so serious since his time as a child when Grindelwald was around trying to gather followers. Accordingly there was a decent amount of clapping, but the students were casting glances and whispering amongst themselves as they asked each other what they thought the hat meant. Looking at the staff it was clear they knew, and Tom was certain he understood it, even if he still hadn't seen the havoc his counterpart had wrecked upon the students of the school.
Despite the hushed conversations, Minerva brought them to heel with her fiery glare and unfurled the scroll with the first years names upon it.
"Abercrombie, Euan."
The first terrified little boy was promptly declared a Gryffindor and Tom clapped politely, reminding himself not to look too pleased when someone got sorted into Slytherin. They weren't his house here. And there it went. Tom studied each student as he did every year, trying to remember each name to face and the house associated with it. It would get easier a couple weeks into school, but he liked to start early. Then Rose Zeller was named a Hufflepuff and Minerva carried the stool and the hat from the Great Hall.
As the doors slid shut behind her, the headmaster rose to his feet, a warm smile on his face for his students. Being closer than the students, he, along with most of the staff, could see he had also heard the clear warning of the sorting hat, and was concerned, his light blue eyes stormy with thought.
"To our newcomers," Albus started, stretching his arms wide in greeting, "Welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"
Food appeared on the tables before them and Dumbledore sat and threw his beard over his shoulder in a humorous fashion, earning laughs from the students and a few chuckles from the professors. As Tom scooped chicken onto his plate, he recalled a time when he thought that Albus must use the Sonorus charm before his speeches, but he learned quickly that the Headmaster just had one of those strong voices that demanded attention, something he'd spent the better part of his life trying to master.
The chatter was picking up again and Tom found himself more interested in watching his students than joining in. Some students would leane between their tables to greet each other, but very few greeted those in Slytherin house, save a Hufflepuff here, a Ravenclaw there. While there had always been a strong rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, he'd never remembered this much hostility between his house and the rest of the school. Likewise he was noticing the same amount of suspicion being played in Potter's direction, where he sat with his friends and Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor House ghost.
This is what the sorting hat meant, clearly.
Slowly, the scrap and clatter of silverware against plates ceased and the noise level ascended as students found themselves without want for food. When more than half the population of the room appeared to be done with their food, Albus rose again.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now too. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Riddle, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
A polite clap spread out amongst the students and he smiled at them and the woman named Grubbly-Plank nodded her head in recognition.
"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the ninth and tenth of the month and if you do not see a sign up sheet in your common room by the beginning of the school week, be sure to contact your Head of House!"
A few other announcements were made, but Tom realized he was finding it hard to pay attention, growing fidgety and bouncing his leg as he waited for the dismissal.
"And now, it is time to send you all off to bed!" The Headmaster declared, "You have a weekend to rest up before the start of classes!"
Tom rose with the rest of the students and staff and made his way towards the front door, only stopped once or twice by students offering introductions and congratulations on getting hired. He recognized them as former students and could hear the echo of Prefects calling their students together to head off to their respective houses. He almost began walking towards the dungeons, then reminded himself in time to take to the stairs.
As a student he'd found out where each of the houses were simply because he wanted to know. Ravenclaws and Gryffindors took to the stairs given their houses resided on the seventh floor, each on opposite ends on the building, while Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were on floors lower than the ground level. As such, he found himself amongst a mix of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. He realized his mistake too late. Most of the times staff would hang back and wait for the students to clear from the halls, but he was so accustomed to leaving early to walk his house to the dungeons he hadn't considered it.
He bumped shoulders with a student and caught the eye of one of the Weasley twins, who nodded at him with a smile. Luckily, his floor came four flights before the students, and he was able to duck off early. The hard part would be surviving the weekend.