The standard disclaimers apply. Some places, events, characters, etc. depicted in this story are the property of J.K. Rowling.

Tom's Riddle

by John Fragile

Chapter Four:  Of Lions and Serpents

Hogsmeade Station stood still and breathless in the cold, pale moonlight of early evening. She longed for the hustle and bustle of the daytime, for the excited commuters, rushing around to catch a train, for the screeches of breaks signaling that a train was stopping, forcing out the old passengers and inviting in the new.

            A low rumble began in the distance as a train plundered toward the station, stealing the silence from the surrounding village. A sharp whistle sounded as it pulled up to the station and began to stop with a squeal from the breaks. The Hogwarts Express had arrived on time.

            Eventually, gallons of students began spilling from the train like blood from a deep gash in the skin. Excited whispers could be heard about what was to come. The doors of the train coagulated and the wound healed, all the students were out of the train awaiting the various vehicles that would propel them further toward their school career at Hogwarts.

            Three first years, on the periphery of the others, talked nervously about what was to befall them as soon as they made it to the school.

            "Well, the sorting will take place soon after we arrive, followed by the start of term feast," Patricia explained to Tom.

            "How exactly does the sorting take place?" Tom asked her.

            "I asked my sister, and she was very vague, but it involves a hat somehow. She could be lying, though."

            Claudius quickly asked, "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

            Patricia only shrugged her shoulders in reply as a booming voice let out a roar from somewhere to their left. "First years, this way!" it exclaimed.

            The exclamation was followed by the arrival of a grey-haired, overly plump wizard. He was only a little taller than some of the students, but five times as wide. His stomach protruded like that of a pregnant woman's when she is late in the third trimester.

"I'm Mr. Yegg, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. Just follow me to the boats," he continued as he proceeded to walk to the left with all of the first year students trailing behind him.

As Tom followed Mr. Yegg, walking next to Claudius and Patricia, he took in the scenery with passive interest. He turned his head around to look back in the direction of the station. What he saw made his eyes bulge out of his head. There were dozens of carriages gliding away slowly in the distance, pulled along by great winged horses. Tom could barely make out their strange milky-white eyes. The other students must be going to the castle in those carriages, Tom thought.

The lake sat in front of the first years and Mr. Yegg, just waiting for one of them to fall in. Soft ripples on the surface of the water caused the reflected moonlight to sparkle and shine. The body of water held a few dozen boats, rocking slightly from the tiny waves.

"No more than four to a boat," said Mr. Yegg suddenly. All of the first years scrambled into a boat, careful not to fall into the lake, even though the water beckoned with icy hands and a cold cackle that sent shivers down Tom's spine.

Tom, Claudius, and Patricia all managed to get into the same boat and were sailing with remarkable speed across the black surface of the lake. A slight whooshing sound could be heard as the bow of the boat made contact with one of the ripples. The three were content to sit in silence, each pondering their own thoughts as they sailed through the night.

Soon, the Hogwarts castle made its presence known, with tiny windows, glowing yellow amidst tall, dark towers through the shadowy night. The first years looked up with awe at the magnificent sight. Tom noted the inviting aura of the glow in the windows, but dreaded the gloominess of the grounds. Anything could be waiting behind one of the trees, or in the shadows of one of the towers, ready to jump out and maim, maul, or murder at the presence of movement.

The small dinghies finally found their destination. Tom, Claudius, and Patricia jumped out of their boat and followed the rest of the first years to a door on which Mr. Yegg knocked with a resounding boom. The door was opened by a middle-aged gentleman with a long, flowing beard.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said warmly, extending his arms slightly in a physical show of welcome. "I am Professor Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster, and Transfiguration teacher. If you'll just be so kind as to follow me, the sorting can begin."

Professor Dumbledore led them down a great hall. Paintings, tapestries, suits of armor, and statues adorned the walls and decorated the floors of this massive area. He led them to a doorway which, apparently, led to the room where the sorting would take place. He then launched into a speech about what would be taking place.

"In a matter of moments, you will be sorted into one of Hogwarts' four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Hufflepuff," he stated with a whimsical twinkling in his eyes. "During your time at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will earn points for triumphs and lose them for misbehavior. At the end of the year, the house with the most points wins the house cup. It is considered a great honor to win the house cup and I wish you all the best of luck."

Dumbledore then opened the doors to a great room and led them through the middle of it. It could only be described as grandiose. It was the antithesis of the meal area back at the Home. Where the meal area was smelly and cramped, this place was fragrant and spacious. The meal area felt loud and obnoxious, this place had the feeling of quiet conversation and maturity.

Tom noticed the ceiling was a dark blue with twinkling stars scattered over the surface. A few clouds swirled around the otherwise unmarred sky. Candles floated eerily, above each of four tables, giving off illumination whole-heartedly.

The group made their way to the front of the room where a battered and worn hat sat on a rickety stool. The new students were instructed to gather around the hat. They did so automatically, anticipating what this seemingly ordinary hat would do.

Tom's surprise was shared by all when a rip opened in the hat and it began to sing. It sang a song about the founders of Hogwarts and how each valued different qualities in its students. Godric Gryffindor taught the bravest students, Rowena Ravenclaw taught the brightest students, Salazar Slytherin taught purebloods, and Helga Hufflepuff taught everyone else. This bit of news cleared things up for Tom. The hat ended its song and everyone applauded enthusiastically.

Dumbledore's voice broke through the lively chatter that had ensued after the applause had died out. "When I call your name, come up here and put the hat on your head. Once you have been sorted, proceed to the appropriate table. You will know where to go by the direction of the loudest cheers."

"Abbott, Dakota!" Dumbledore called as a short boy stepped up to the stool and put the hat on his head. After a moment's hesitation, the hat called, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the boy removed the hat and proceeded to the table that had let out the loudest cheers.

"Black, Claudius!"

Tom wished Claudius good luck as he proceeded up to the front and jammed the hat over his head. He hadn't gotten the hat all the way down on his head when it called "SLYTHERIN!" and Claudius proceeded to what was apparently the Slytherin's table.

The sorting continued and Tom began to get somewhat bored. He looked around the Great Hall, as it was called, and up to the teacher's table. Adult wizards and witches were talking amongst themselves, clapping as each student was sorted.

"Parkinson, Patricia!"

Tom came out of a trance as Patricia's name was called; he wished her good luck as he did Claudius as she walked to the front. She put on the hat and it seemed to contemplate a little while before yelling, "SLYTHERIN!"

Tom was left alone in front of the Great Hall. He could feel the eyes upon him as he waited for his name to be called. Several more students were made Gryffindors, a few more Slytherins were produced and then…

"Riddle, Tom!"

Tom stepped up to the stool and put the hat on his head, slowly, as if unsure what it would do. He knew he would come out unscathed as all of the others had, but there was that subconscious worry that is always present, that defies rational thought.

A voice inside Tom's head said, "Tom Riddle," appraisingly. "You are indeed brave, putting up with that orphanage, very smart, too. I think I'll put you in…

"GRYF…

"Wait a minute…that's odd." The hat seemed interested in something. "You do have a thirst for power, I have the sudden urge to make you a…

"SLYTHERIN!"

Tom removed the hat and proceeded over to the table of Slytherins, amidst the dignified applause and sat on the bench next to Claudius. The hat had wanted him to be in Gryffindor at first. Why had it all of a sudden changed its mind? Tom would know the answer, eventually.

"The hat almost put you in Gryffindor!" Claudius said, obviously surprised.

"It said that I was brave, I think is why," Tom responded.

"It wanted to put me in Hufflepuff," added Patricia, in a somewhat disgusted tone. "Do I seem like a Hufflepuff to you guys?"

"Of course not," Claudius said, sounding unconvinced, on purpose.

"Oh shut up!" Patricia responded.

"I don't think you seem like a Hufflepuff," Tom said, flatteringly.

"Thanks, Tom," Patricia responded gratefully, with a dirty look at Claudius.

The three then gave their full attention to the remainder of the sorting, clapping and cheering whenever another student was made a Slytherin.

They did not have time to continue conversation as a cold voice rang out over the Great Hall. "May I have your attention please," said an old, tired-looking wizard. "I would like to welcome you to Hogwarts and would like to remind you that the forest is off limits to all students. Please be advised that there are severe consequences for those who decide to break the rules. Rules and regulations will be posted up in your house dormitories shortly." Tom got the feeling that this was the headmaster of Hogwarts, Armando Dippet. "Enjoy the feast," he ended, his smile not touching his eyes.

Before Tom could protest that there was not any food to partake of, it began to appear on all of the serving dishes. Tom sat with his mouth open in shock as most of his favorite dishes appeared on the serving platters out of thin air. He quickly loaded up his plate with everything that he could get his hands on.

Being with other people that were like him gave Tom a newfound confidence in himself that he lacked when at the orphanage. He found himself joining in conversation with not only Claudius and Patricia, but with many of the other first years and some older students.

"What do you think will be the hardest subject?" asked a blond, bespectacled boy who had previously introduced himself as Polonius Malfoy.

"Transfiguration sounds difficult," Tom replied. "But it also sounds like it'll be the most interesting." He had been reading the Transfiguration textbook and it seemed that it was the most complicated magic that Tom would be required to learn.

"I've always wanted to turn my little brother into a ferret and bounce him up and down the hall," said Malfoy. Tom let out a slight laugh at this last statement while trying not to spray the huge bite of baked alaska, that he had taken, all over the table.

Tom received quite a shock when a ghost drifted over and sat down at the table. He was told that this was the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost. His transparent appearance coupled with his blood-splattered robes intrigued Tom, though. It would be interesting to find out how he had died.

The meal was over and the first years were to follow the prefects to their dormitories. A bossy-looking brunette stood up and shouted, "First years, follow me!"

Tom and the others quickly stood up to obey the request. They followed the prefect out of the Great Hall and down the hall, lower into the castle. As they descended what seemed like the fiftieth staircase, Tom was wondering if they were underground. The halls were darker and more menacing down this far into the school. The torches on the walls cast only enough light to create suggestive shadows that played along the carpets as the students trudged on.

Finally, they reached a stone slab and the prefect girl told them that the password was mudblood and the slab slid aside to allow them access to the Slytherin common room.

The room was dark, cold, and stony, the fireplaces seemingly present only for decoration because warmth did not touch this room. On the contrary, coolness and morbidity seemed to radiate from the stone walls. Torches glowed with almost blue flames, casting melancholic and flickering light over the first years and prefect.

"The first year boy's dormitory is up those stairs on your left, the girl's on your right" she said. "Good night," she added as she scampered off to her dormitory to retire for the evening.

Although Tom and his friends were exhausted from their trip and all of the other happenings of the day, they could not bring themselves to go to bed. Instead, Tom, Claudius, and Patricia found comfortable overstuffed chairs in front of the fire and sat down to talk for a while before bed. The conversation revolved mainly around the sorting as Tom relayed exactly what the hat had told him.

"To me, it sounds like you have the qualities of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin," Claudius reasoned, "but the hat knew Slytherin was superior so it decided to sort you into it." There was the sureness of Claudius' tone to go by, but something was nagging at Tom. He knew that he was not a pureblood, so why did the hat sort him into Slytherin?

"The Sorting hat knows where you'll do best, Tom," Patricia told him. "It probably saw something in the last minute that made it sure you would be a good Slytherin." The reassuring smile she gave him as she said this was enough to convince Tom to drop the subject.

"I suppose you're right," he conceded. "I'm exhausted! I think I'll go up to bed. See you in the morning."

"Good night," Patricia said.

"Wait for me, I'm going to," said Claudius as he jumped up from the chair he was occupying and accompanied Tom up the stairs to the dormitory.

They walked into a dim room with five four-poster beds in a row. Their luggage had been brought up and Tom found that he and Claudius were to sleep in the two beds closest to the door. Tom had the one right next to the door and Claudius' was next to his.

They pulled on their pajamas tiredly and climbed into their respective beds with a whispered good night.

As Tom awaited sleep, he could not help but think that everything today had gone right. He was well on his way to becoming a powerful wizard. Sleep took Tom in its death-like manner and refused to let him go until the sun was just above the horizon the next morning.