"Let's Do It Right This Time, Chapter 13: Tom Riddle
AN: Anything bolded is from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Parcelmouth is in italics.
Dead silence.
""Potter, Harry?" Mcgonagall said again, more uncertainly. No firstie came forward, and the Hall was suddenly full of whispering. Aurelius plastered a curious frown over his smirk, and raised his occlumency shields to full strength, in case Dumbledore tried passive legillimancy. He hadn't quite managed shields for active legillimancy yet, but Dumbledore would be too subtle for that, and Snape wouldn't dare try anything in the Great Hall.
Dumbledore rose to his full height, staring out over the Hall, and flicked his wand, releasing a rain of purple firecrackers. "Attention!" The chattering students fell silent in an instant. "It would seem that Mr. Potter was delayed. He will doubtless be here tomorrow. For now, the Sorting will continue."
None of the students, or the staff for that matter, seemed to be satisfied, but after a few moments of tense silence, Mcgonagall began again, grey eyes shimmering with moisture. The remaining Sortings were an anticlimax after what had just occurred, and after "Zabini, Blaise" was Sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore simply clapped to summon the food, without the whimsically random table blessing he had offered in the previous timeline.
To be fair, it was a great Sorting Feast. Aurelius found that he had missed the food more than he had expected, and he spent the first half of the meal simply eating, making the occasional noncommittal noise in response to the other Slytherins' questions: did he like the Hogwarts Express, was he looking forward to any classes in particular, did he like Quiddich. Then Daphne Greengrass made a comment he couldn't resist responding to, if only to rattle a few cages and establish himself in the political hierarchy.
"I didn't know the Gaunt line was still extant," she said carefully, obviously digging for more information.
Aurelius winced. "It isn't exactly. I'm not heir by blood, thank Merlin. It's probably a good thing, too, since they're so pure it's practically incest. No, I'm simply the last one left with a claim to the line, ever since Riddle went and got himself blown up."
"Who?" Daphne was trying to hide her curiosity, as were the rest of the Slytherin table. Some of the pureblood Ravenclaws were openly gawking. Dumbledore's head had jerked up at the name Riddle, and he was staring at the Slytherin table, his fork halfway to his mouth.
"Tom Riddle. Model student at Hogwarts, youngest Seeker on the team for centuries, Head boy, Quiddich captain, and winner of two awards for special services to the school. Oh, and captain of the chess club, while also managing to earn straight O's in every class, and getting higher grades in DADA than Merlin." There was an ironical tone to Aurelius's voice. "That was, of course, before his hobbies included pulling the wings off flies and the heads off muggleborns."
Several students, mostly Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, were looking decidedly ill.
"What do you mean 'got himself blown up'?" That was Draco. Typical.
"Tommy heard a prophecy he wasn't meant to hear, made some assumptions, and went off to kill the Potter boy just to make certain, as if a baby was a threat. Of course, in doing so he broke an honor vow, thus allowing the sacrifice of Lily Potter to mix with ambient magic to forfill her dying prayers. So he blew up. Didn't actually kill him, but that would be a setback for anyone," Aurelius finished, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice and enjoying the stunned silence. And, of course, the look on Quirrell's face. Conversation didn't pick up much after that.
It was almost a relief when Dumbledore tapped his wand against the rim of his goblet, making a chiming sound that resounded through the whispering hall. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few announcements."
Aurelius wondered if he would still announce the 3rd floor corridor, and then noticed the headmaster's twinkling blue gaze fixed on Neville, who was sitting with Ron and Parvati at the Gryffindor table. Aurelius's lips tightened. If Dumbledore decided simply to use the other Chosen One in his pet prophecy...well, heads would roll. Dumbledore's head specifically. Neville, his parents in the incurable ward and his remaining family either strict or abusive, had no shred of confidence left (after all, it had taken seven years for him to override that conditioning and become the leader of the Hogwarts resistance) and at eleven, he was prime fodder for Dumbledore's machinations. And Aurelius would never let that happen to him.
"There is a list of forbidden Zonko's products affixed to Mr. Filch's office door, which you are welcome to peruse, and the Forbidden Forest is, as always, off limits. Some of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He twinkled at the twins. "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.''
The Slytherins immediately began speculating as Dumbledore sat down, although none of them got anywhere near the truth. Aurelius did not bother to enlighten them, however; it was best not to show his full hand. He'd tipped it a bit too much, anyway, but that had been necessary to establish his status. If Daphne had asked that question and he'd fobbed her off with a simple answer, she would not have believed him, and lying about your name loses you all credibility in the Snake Pit. Besides, the fact that he could mess with both Dumbledore and Voldemort at the same time was simply too good to waste.
In only a few minutes after what passed for an announcement, the houses were being led away to their respective dorms by the prefects, the Gryffs and 'Claws to their ivory towers, and the 'Puffs and Slythers to their respective Sett and Nest. The Slytherins at last arrived at the bare stretch of wall that concealed the opening to their common room.
"Listen up," Gabrielle Nott, one of the Slytherin prefects, began. "To get into the Slytherin Common Room, you need a password. None of the other impure houses are allowed to know it, and if one of them gets it, I'll know, and I'll find out who told, too. Is that clear?"
"Crystal." Aurelius muttered. Most of the other Slytherin first years were nodding nervously, overawed by Hogwarts itself and intimidated by their new prefect, so unfortunately, Nott heard.
"What was that, Gaunt?"
"Nothing," Aurelius replied innocently, wondering if he had underestimated the dangers of the Snake Pit.
Nott's eye twitched. "Don't lie to me," he snarled. 'I heard that. And that'll be your first class: manners. You think you're all that, but you're not, and if you even think of overstepping your boundaries, we'll crush you. However, as this was a first offence, the only punishment will be to be locked out for the first night." Flicking his wand, Nott cast a petrificatus totalus on the firstie, whispered the password to the door, and led the rest of the now-frightened Slytherins into the common room.
It took only approximately two minutes to wandlessly undo the shoddy bind. Aurelius gracefully got to his feet, dusting himself off, and walked over to the door.
"Pureblood," he tried. Nothing happened. "Snake pit. Anaconda. Viper. Cobra. Karait. Salazar. Purity." Still nothing. Aurelius wished he knew who got to pick the passwords; then he'd have a better chance at guessing. "Die Mudblood," he tried, ludicrously. Still nothing. And then something else, something ingenious, occurred to him. "Open to me," he hissed, picturing Sssasha stretched out in the sun. "Open to me in the name of Salazar, open in the name of his heir." And on the last word, he flashed his rings.
An opening appeared in the blank stretch of wall. Aurelius smirked. Then he stepped through, oblivious to the dark figure behind him, who stood watching in astonishment.