The Tale of Tom
Chapter Thirteen: The Serpent's House
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"Mind if I join you?"
Both Tom and Nex looked up simultaneously. A boy of about their age stood in the open doorway of the compartment.
"Sure," Nex said in response to the question.
"Thanks," the boy replied. "The train's packed."
Nex nodded as the stranger took a seat near Tom.
"Erik Sigourney," the boy stated. "But you can just call me Erik."
"Tom Riddle," he replied.
"Sigourney?" Nex said, setting his newspaper to the side. "Are you pure-blood?"
Erik ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "Half-blood. Both of my parent's are magical but my Dad's Muggle-born."
Tom turned away from Nex too soon to see his nose wrinkle in disgust. "So I take it you already knew about Hogwarts then?" Tom asked.
Erik nodded. "But my parents were still happy when we got the letter. We'd heard some false rumors that Hogwarts was only accepting pure-bloods this year." Nex muttered something under his breath that Tom didn't catch. "Thankfully, they weren't true. After all, it'd be awfully discriminatory if they did only allow pure-bloods."
"My parents knew I was going to be accepted but they were still happy when I got the letter," Tom said, speaking a lie.
"So what you think of the different houses?" Nex asked Tom.
"Ah," Tom tried to remember what the prefect had told him about the houses but could only recall scattered bits and pieces. "They all sound good to me," he finished, deciding to keep his opinion neutral.
Nex nodded. "I don't think I could stand being in Hufflepuff. They--"
"Hufflepuff wouldn't be that bad," Erik said, interrupting Nex.
"Which house do you hope to be in?" Tom quickly spoke to Nex, noticing his glare at Erik.
"Slytherin," he replied, looking at Tom. "It's the house my brother's in." Tom nodded to be polite and then, noticing Erik's glare at Nex, asked Erik the same question.
"I don't know," he replied. He seemed to be considering saying something else, but decided against it. "I think I agree. They all sound good," Erik finished, smiling at Tom.
"Do you play Quidditch, Tom?" Nex inquired.
"Huh?" Tom replied, then silently scolded himself.
"Do you play Quidditch?" he repeated, simply believing or choosing to believe that Tom had simply not heard him.
"No, 'fraid I'm not very good at it," Tom spoke, assuming it was some time of game.
Nex smiled. "Its hard, but I really enjoy it. I want to try out for beater next year. It's too bad they don't allow first years to play."
Tom nodded, having no idea what Nex had just said. "Too bad," he simply repeated.
"If you want I can give you lessons," he earnestly offered.
"Really?" Tom asked.
"Sure, it'd be my pleasure."
"Thanks," he replied, hoping that "Quidditch" would be easy. "So do you play, Erik?" Tom asked, feeling he should include the third boy in their conversation.
Erik certainly seemed to be glad that somebody was talking to him as he scooted forward eagerly in his seat. "Love it. I want to try out in a couple of years, but I don't know where. I like all of the spots except chaser." Tom nodded along, once again not understanding what the other boy was saying. "So what's your team?"
"I don't really have one," Tom replied, now grasping that "Quidditch" was a sport.
Erik launched into a long speech about the different teams and which one was his team. Nex took out his newspaper again and Tom stared intently at a spot over Erik's shoulder; it had never seemed more fascinating.
"Food!" Nex abruptly shouted as the door of their compartment slid open yet again. Erik stopped in mid-sentence and Tom tore his eyes from the small spot on the train compartment's wall. Nex caught his eye and gave Tom a small grin which Tom thankfully returned.
"Anything off the trolley, m'dears?" Both Erik and Nex jumped to their feet and quickly walked over to the small cart with food on it while Tom just wandered over, curious. He gave a quick peak at the cart, which seemed to be packed with types of candy, and returned to his seat.
Both of the smiling boys returned with their hands full of colorful sweets.
"Ah, my favorite lunch of the year," Nex said, grinning at Erik as they both set down their sweets.
"That was lunch?!" Tom exclaimed.
Erik and Nex both burst into laughter. "Yes, it was," Erik said, half-way through eating some type of pasty.
"You didn't know that?" Nex said, chortling.
"I'm an only child," Tom stated feebly in his defense.
"Don't worry," Erik said, patting him on the shoulder. "You can share our stuff."
"Thanks," Tom replied with a sigh of relief. "But don't expect me to pay you back," he added with a grin, although he was serious.
"Of course not, pal," Nex said.
"So what's good?" Tom asked. "My parents don't let me have sweets very often," he added before either of them could ask.
"Here," Erik said, throwing a soft, small package at Tom. "Try a pumpkin pasty, they're pretty good."
He quickly ripped open the package and took a bite into the fluffy orange pasty. "Whoa!" he exclaimed at the burst of sweetness.
The other two boys burst into laughter once again. "You're parents are cruel if they've never let you have a pumpkin pasty," Erik said while laughing. Tom froze and got the sudden urge to scream at Erik, scream that his parents would never be anything but nice, and how dare he insult his parents and yet take his own parents for granted. Instead Tom choked down the words fighting their way up and gave a slight smile. The compartment finally stopped ringing with laughter and he took another bite of the pasty. It wasn't as sweet as before.
The compartment door slid open again. "Hey, Myron, mind if I hide with you for a bit?"
"Go ahead," Nex said, ripping open a bag of jelly beans with his teeth. "What are you hiding from, if I may ask."
"I think Seth's hoping to start a food fight, and I'd rather keep my robes clean." Tom noticed that the boy was wearing black wizarding robes.
"Sure," he replied, popping a jelly bean into his mouth and immediately gagging.
"You need to be more careful when you're eating those," the boy said smiling and grabbing another wrapped sweet.
"I can't help it if I'm adventurous," Myron said, coughing.
"Careful, now. Hate to explain to Mum that you choked to death in the train," the stranger replied casually.
"Gosh, I can feel the love," Nex sarcastically replied.
"Don't worry, I won't let you," he said, ruffling the other boy's hair.
"Ack! Leave my hair alone," Nex said, rapidly running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to straighten it.
Both of the other boys were watching this exchange with great interest, and the unknown boy finally seemed to realize this. "Owen Nex," he said shaking Tom's hand.
He was about to shake the other boy's hand when Myron suddenly stated, "He's a half-blood."
Owen withdrew his hand as though from an electric shock, but seemed to realize the awkwardness as he quickly ran his hand through his hair. Tom gave Erik a confused look, wondering what had just happened. Erik simply answered the unspoken question with a look that said, "I'll explain later." Tom gave an uneasy nod as Owen started talking again.
"I'm Myron's older brother. You can just call us by our first names, otherwise it gets a tad confusing."
The fact they were related was a slight shock to Tom. They both acted as though they were brothers, but they looked like photographic opposites. Owen had dark brown, almost black hair and slightly tan skin. Myron had sandy brown-blonde hair and a pale complexion. His eyes were endless abysses of liquid onyx while Owen's looked like glowing orbs, changing from brown to gold depending on the angle from which you gazed at them.
"I didn't know you still went to Hogwarts," Tom stated.
Owen nodded. "I'm only two years older than Myron here."
"So you're a...third year?" Tom asked. Erik was still fuming silently, currently attacking a cauldron cake.
The older boy nodded once again. "I get to go to Hogsmeade this year, which is good."
"You better get me some stuff from Zonko's," Myron said, deciding to try another jelly bean. Evidently he had not seen any awkwardness.
"So who are your friends here, Myron?" Owen asked, changing the subject.
The younger boy looked up. "Oh, this is Tom Riddle."
Tom waved hello as Owen curiously cocked his head. "Are you--" he started.
"He's pure of blood," Myron said, cutting his brother off. Tom simply figured that asking somebody's heritage was a way of greeting in the wizarding world. After all, both Mary and Mr. Ollivander had asked him if he was Muggle-born, and that was in addition to Myron and Owen asking him if he was pure-blood.
"This is Erik Sigourney," Tom said, introducing the last boy. The blonde-haired boy took a steadying breath and pasted a small smile on his face. Owen gave a forced, close-lipped smile in return while Myron just gagged on another jelly bean. Tom didn't notice any of this except Myron spitting out the green jelly bean.
"You alright, Myron?" Tom asked.
"Yes," the other boy gasped. "Never touching that color again," he added to himself.
"What are those?" Tom asked.
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," Myron replied, holding out a small plastic bag. "You want one?"
"It's...okay," Tom said, eyeing the bag warily.
"Are you sure? I've just been having rotten luck."
"Yes," Tom stated.
"Your loss," Myron said, promptly choking on another one of the jellybeans.
"I should get going, little bro," Owen cut in, standing up.
"Alright," Myron said, getting his breath back.
"Remember to change into your robes," Owen stated, walking over to the door.
"Will do." The compartment door slid shut.
"So that's your brother," Tom said, stating the obvious.
"Yep." Myron's eyes flickered down to his watch. "Well, it's a while until we arrive but maybe we should change anyway."
"Sure." Both Tom and Myron stood up, with Erik following a bit more reluctantly.
"Which one's yours?" he pointed to the trunks.
Tom grabbed his trunk and yanked it down "This one."
Nodding, Myron also pulled his trunk down from its shelf. It caused the compartment to shake slightly.
"These trunks are way too heavy," Tom said with a wry smile. He kicked open his trunk and slightly straightened out the items that had been jostled during the journey, that is, after pulling out a pair of robes. Putting them on, Tom realized they were much too long. I suppose I'll just have to make do, he sighed.
"Think I'll read my book," Erik said to himself. Silently agreeing that this was a good idea, Tom pulled out one of his spell books and closed his trunk. All three boys hoisted up their trunks again, one after the other.
"Do you want to play Exploding Snap, Tom?" Myron asked just as Tom had opened his book.
"Huh?"
"Exploding Snap," Myron said, holding up a small box that Tom assumed contained it.
"What's that?" he asked.
"You've never heard of Exploding Snap?!" the other boy asked, shocked. "Are you sure you're pure-blood?" he added in a joking tone.
"Of course!" Tom exclaimed. He did not want the other boy to become suspicious of his orphan-status.
"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," Myron apologized.
Smiling with relief, Tom replied, "That's okay. And thanks, but I think I'll just read for now."
He nodded, "Sure."
The journey continued in silence except for the rustling of turning pages. Tom noticed the sky outside was slowly becoming darker as the sun set; it appeared as though the night sky was overpowering the last rays of light before fully extinguishing them.
"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to school separately."
"Guess this is it," Erik stated to the silent compartment.
Tom closed his book and placed it back in his trunk. The entire train now seemed to be crackling with excitement and the murmurs of other compartments were more pronounced. Standing, Tom rocked on his feet and resisted the temptation to pace the small compartment.
"I think the train's stopped," Erik said quietly. Indeed, there was the sound of many compartment doors sliding open and the rush of bodies off the train. They opened their door and were drawn into the tide of moving people. All three boys were pushed onto the dark platform and Tom gratefully gulped the cold air, not realizing how stuffy the train had been.
"All first years, follow my voice! Follow my voice! First years, first years over here!"
Tom spun around and realized he had lost both Myron and Erik. "Oh, shoot," he whispered to himself. Desperately he scanned the crowd, but saw neither boy. The voice calling for the first years had also disappeared. "Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, sho--Owen!" Tom yelled, interrupting his near-silent cursing. The older boy's head turned having heard his name. "Owen!" Tom called again. Owen saw Tom and immediately his face formed an expression of confusion. "Where are the first years supposed to go?" he yelled over the sound of the crowd. The other boy opened his mouth in understanding of the situation and quickly pushed his way to Tom.
"You got lost already?" he asked.
"I can't help it!" Tom exclaimed, panicking slightly.
"Don't take it so harshly. Here," Owen said, stopping at a dark path. "Go down here until you reach the group or the lake. If I were you I'd walk fast."
"Thanks!" Tom yelled running down the pitch black path. There seemed to be a forest on either side of the path, and the path itself was covered with moss. He heard the sound of talking people and sped up, meeting the group just before the path ended.
"Hogwarts!" an adult voice spoke. The group gave a sound of awe and Tom looked up. A large castle stood on the other side of the rippling lake. Hogwarts, he thought, a smile forming on his face at the mere idea.
"All of you, get into a boat. But no more than four! We learned that lesson last year," the instructional voice added.
Tom saw Erik's blonde hair and quickly pushed his way to the front of the group.
"I was wondering where you went," Erik said, smiling. "Nex split off from me. He's one of those people who--"
"Hey, Tom! There you are," Myron interrupted Erik. The other boy frowned at this new arrival.
Noticing the other first years climbing into boats, Tom spoke. "Let's get a boat, say what."
They all stepped into a boat, one of the last ones, and none too soon, for almost immediately the adult cried, "Forward!"
"Say, who is that?" Tom whispered, gesturing toward the front.
"Him? I think that's the caretaker. Or the gamekeeper, I can't tell which." Myron stayed silent after answering this question and Tom looked into the lake that was only surface, yet had infinite depth. Everything seems so serene, he vaguely thought. There was none of the confusion, tension and hurry that one felt in the real world. There were none of the sounds he normally heard, the sounds of yelling and taunting. Instead, time froze but continued onward as they glided across the glass lake.
"Keep your head down!"
Everyone ducked in synchronization as they reached a cliff that was hidden with a curtain of ivy. The boats were now in a tunnel that lead underneath the castle and into an underground harbor. Climbing out of their boats carefully, the first years nervously huddled around each other. Silently, the caretaker/gamekeeper lead all of them up a stone staircase to a large door. The man looked around at the nervous faces, as though checking they were all there, and then, very slowly and deliberately, knocked on the door.
For a moment, the room was dead silent. The creak of the door opening was rather like a collective sigh.
"The first years, I presume?" A man in dark purple robes and auburn hair stood in the open doorway. Clear blue eyes surveyed the crowd of first years behind half-circle glasses.
"Yes, Professor."
"Very good, follow me." The professor turned around and set off at a brisk pace. They passed through a large entrance hall, that Tom was feeling to nervous to look at, and went into a small room. The first years crowded together into a very small group and Tom silently thought he had never been more claustrophobic.
"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am one of the professors here, Professor Dumbledore. The start of school feast will take place soon, but first you must be sorted into your house. This Sorting Ceremony is very important as you will be in the same house for all 7 years, and it will be rather like your family at Hogwarts." Tom smiled a smile of slight relief. The Sorting Ceremony couldn't be that bad, then. "You will share your dormitory, classes, and common room with your house. There are four houses and all of them are equally great. The houses' names are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Every year a house cup is awarded--which house gets it is decided by how many points each house has. One earns points for their house with triumphs, and losses points by breaking the rules. Let's hope we won't have to deal with the latter one." Dumbledore smiled. "Now, please wait here for a moment or two, until I come to show you to the Sorting Ceremony. Do not worry, it is a relatively painless process." He swept out of the room leaving the nervous first years to themselves.
Tom heard Erik mutter under his breath, "Relatively painless. Great. Just great. Relatively painless."
Tom took a steadying breath and rocked on the balls of his feet. "What's the sorting ceremony like?" he asked Myron, mainly to pass the time.
"I'm not sure," the other boy whispered back. "Owen wouldn't tell me, stupid git," he added.
Nodding, Tom continued nervously shifting his weight. Time appeared to have crawled to a stop. The door opened and the already silent first years became quieter, if it was possible. "Form a line and follow me," Professor Dumbledore spoke. Tom took a spot behind Myron and the line started moving; the eerie silence reminded Tom of a funeral march.
"This is it," he whispered to himself, recalling Erik's words, as the first years entered the large hall. The room was humongous and it seemed to Tom that words couldn't do it justice. There were five large tables in the room--four of which had students sitting at them, students which had suddenly gone very quiet. The professor which had brought them into the hall placed a stool on the empty floor. A pointed hat sat on the four-legged stool and Tom vaguely wondered why it seemed all of the students were looking at it. Tom's wonderings were suddenly answered when the hat burst into song, as well as a hat can.
Welcome one, welcome all
Back to Hogwarts and the Great Hall
All of you should listen well
For of your choices I shall tell
Hufflepuffs, the loyal and kind
While Ravenclaws are sharp of mind
Gryffindor the bold and brave
Slytherin their path they pave
Loyal and hardworking our Hufflepuffs are
They will go the distance, no matter how far
Kind and caring they are too
They will always lend a hand to help you
Ravenclaws the type of learning
For knowledge they are always yearning
Intelligence beyond all measures
Searching for knowledge is their pleasure
Brave of heart and pure of deed,
These Gryffindors, their courage leads
True to themselves and others too
If you challenge them that day you will rue
The cunning and clever of mind
Through magical power they bind
Slytherins posses great power
Before none they will ever cower
So now you know about all four
I hope I haven't been a bore
No more words to come
The sorting has now begun
The hall burst into applause and Tom nervously joined in. Why was a hat telling them about the houses? And what where they supposed to do with it? Tom was still horribly confused, and extremely grateful his last name was near the end of the alphabet.
"Aloysius, Juan!" Dumbledore called out.
A boy stepped out of the line and strode purposefully toward the stool. He sat down and placed the hat on his head. There was a moments silence before the hat called out "GRYFFINDOR!" The table with a banner of a lion nearby cheered loudly. Juan smiled and walked over to the group of students, which made a place for him.
The noise dropped and Dumbledore looked at the list infront of him once again. He called out another person, this time a girl, who was sorted into Hufflepuff. This happened many more times and each time an unknown person went up to the stool.
"Nex, Myron!"
Tom heard Myron's sharp intake of air. He walked toward the stool and Tom felt strangely exposed without anyone in front of him. Myron gave a slight smile to him before the hat was placed on his head and Tom returned it, nervous for his friend. The hat stayed silent for several moments before it seemed to reach a decision. "SLYTHERIN!" it bellowed across the hall. Myron gratefully pulled it off his head and stumbled toward the table his brother was sitting at.
"Paytah, Evelyn!" A girl with hazelnut-colored hair nervously approached the stool. It's me next, Tom thought. I can just feel it. He wasn't sure how much time passed while she was on the stool but it seemed like hours, although it was probably a mere minute.
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat yelled.
The hall echoed with a table's cheer. It slowly quieted down and the professor pulled out the scroll with the names on it once again.
"Riddle, Tom!" Tom swore his heart stopped as he forced his legs to go forward, unsure if his name had really been called. He stumbled slightly over his too-long robes, but luckily he didn't fall. The stool was finally in front of him and he nervously sat down on it, feeling awkward. Professor Dumbledore gave him a reassuring smile before placing the hat on his head. It slipped over his eyes and threw him into darkness.
"Let's see..." Tom practically fell off the stool with surprise; it seemed the hat was talking to him. Silently, he scolded himself for being so surprised. After all, he reminded himself, this was the wizarding world, where anything could happen. "You're very smart, and clever too. What else, what else. You seem to want to do well, and to learn, not just to pass. Well, I believe so far I've narrowed it down to either Ravenclaw or Slytherin--you wouldn't do very well in any of the other houses. Now what shall be the dividing point? Let's dig a bit deeper, shall we?" Tom silently waited for the hat to make its decision. "Now this is fascinating, I thought you just wanted to do well, but that's not true. You want more than to do well--you have a thirst for power, you wish to be more than what you are. I can see clearly, now. Slytherin's the only way to go. Do you disagree, perhaps? Have I judged you wrong?" He did think the Sorting Hat was wrong about his personality but as far as he was concerned all of the houses were similar, if not the same. "Remember this day, Tom Riddle," the sorting hat finished, leaving Tom to wonder in the mere second before it shouted a single word for the entire hall to hear.
"SLYTHERIN!"
The hat was pulled off of his head and Tom blindly stumbled toward the table where Myron sat. Both brother's patted him on the back and congratulated him mutely over the cheer. The Slytherins became silent and Tom breathed a sigh of relief, the sorting hat's words already slipping from his mind.
"Sigourney, Erik!"
Erik walked out of the remaining line and strode toward the hat, an oddly blank, serene look on his face considering how nervous he had been before. The boy sat down on the stool and before the hat was placed on his head, he gave Tom an odd look. As the hat slipped down over Erik's face, Tom felt oddly chilled. What had that look been? But he had no time to think for soon the Sorting Hat yelled Erik's house across the hall.
"RAVENCLAW!"
Tom inwardly groaned, he had been hoping that Erik would also be placed in Slytherin so he would have another friend in his house. Myron seemed as if he could care less and Erik seemed fairly happy as he sat down between two Ravenclaws.
Professor Dumbledore called out the last several names before the Sorting Hat and it's stool were removed from the Great Hall. "Finally!" he heard Owen whisper to himself.
"Hungry?" Myron quietly asked of his brother.
"You bet! I hope Dippet speaks fast."
"From what you've told me, the day Dippet says a small speech is the day the world ends," he said quietly.
Owen groaned and looked at the plate in front of him, as though wishing food would appear. An elderly man stood up at the front of the main table and people reluctantly stopped their conversations and looked at him. After what seemed like a while, the Great Hall was finally quiet and the man started speaking. "Welcome, welcome all to a new year at Hogwart's. I hope all of us can look forward to a new year and a fresh start, which will hopefully be used well by our more troublesome students." The headmaster seemed to look at several people whom Tom couldn't identify. "Now, for the first years that do not know, and the older students who seem to have...forgotten, magic should not be done in the corridors between classes. Also, team captains must schedule try-outs for missing spots and post this information in the common room. That is all, for now. Let the feast begin!" Food instantly appeared on the shining plates.
Tom gaped at this sight but Owen and Myron didn't seem the least bit surprised, indeed they continued chatting as though nothing special had happened. "Wonder when the world's going to end," Myron said airily as he reached for some food.
"I can't believe Dippet didn't drag on for ages and ages, like he normally does," Owen agreed. Tom blinked several times and uncertainly reached the food. When it didn't disappear he quickly filled his plate with food and voraciously started digging into it; the small lunch Tom had eaten seemed to have taken place ages ago.
"Hungry, Tom?" Myron asked laughing.
Tom blushed slightly and slowed down a bit. "Yes," he sheepishly stated.
"I can't blame you. Did you even have a lunch?" his friend asked asked.
"A small one," Tom said smiling and feeling more comfortable.
Myron smiled and returned to his plate in silence.
Soon Tom had finished his food and took to looking around the hall, feeling rather sluggish. Other people were still finishing their food and several silver things caught Tom's eye. "What's that?" he asked Myron, pointing toward the silvery object.
"That? One of the ghosts, I assume. I'm not sure which one." Myron pushed his eaten dinner away from him. "You can ask Owen if you care enough."
Smiling slightly, Tom spoke. "I don't think I do. I'll find out eventually, anyway."
Myron nodded and then pointed to the center table were Professor Dippet had stood once again. "Wonder what he's going to say," the boy spoke vaguely.
"Ahem. Now that all of us have eaten to you hearts content there are other matters I would like to discuss with the school. First of all, Hogwarts' overall OWL scores have dropped by 2 and although this seems like a small percentage if you compare it with the past records of Fifth year testing--"
"Augh," Owen whispered to himself, gently banging his head against the table several times.
"What?" asked Tom.
"This is the start of one of Dippet's famous ramblings. He could compete with Binns' for the putting-students-to-sleep award."
Tom sleepily nodded, vaguely wondering who Binns was, but not caring enough to ask. Professor Dippet certainly did continue for a long time, and he seemed to rotate through a variety of topics, none more interesting than the last.
"I think he's finally wrapping up," Owen spoke.
"Prefects, please take the first years to their dorms. You are excused," Dippet finished.
"Finally," Tom murmured, half-asleep, to himself. "Myron, hey Myron?"
"Huh? Wha?" Myron said, looking around.
Tom smiled. "We can go to our dorms, now."
"About time," he spoke, standing up.
"There, my brother, is Dippet's famous sleep-inducing speech," Owen said standing up.
"I'll say," Myron said, also standing up and following the crowd of Slytherins. "So where's the common room?" he continued.
"In the dungeons, beneath the lake actually."
Both of the first year boys took in this piece of information and sleepily nodded. The group of Slytherins went down many stone steps and long corridors before stopping in front of an empty stretch of stone wall. Tom looked questioningly at Myron but not before somebody spoke to the entire crowd.
"The password is Magical lore. Magical lore," the prefect repeated. The stone wall slid open revealing a room that the Slytherins crowded into. "First years, this our common room," she continued. Tall chairs were in various spots around the common room and a fire was lit in the elegant fireplace. Many lamps hung from the ceiling, giving off a greenish light that shone across the stone walls and ceiling. "Girls, follow me to your dormitory. Boys, follow Jack," she pointed to the other prefect you mutely waved, "To your dormitory." Tom and Myron followed the prefect who led them up a narrow staircase and through a door with a silver number one on it.
"This will be your dormitory for the entire year. You can tell because it says one for the first years," he rapped the door with his knuckles. "So, basically, that's all I can really think of. Your stuff's been brought up already," the prefect nodded toward the collection of trunks, "But you get to decide which bed you choose. As you can tell, I'm the Slytherin fifth-year prefect so if you have any questions just ask me. And, er, yeah. Have fun killing each deciding who gets which bed." All of the first years looked at him with wide eyes. "Joking, joking! Geez, tough crowd," he said to himself, closing the door.
All of the boys stood, looking at each other for a moment before they each reached forward and grabbed their own trunk. They stood for a moment longer before drifting over to their desired bed and sitting it down, thus claiming it theirs. Tom pulled on his pajamas and lay down upon the silver-colored sheets before speaking to the darkened room. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," chorused the room of unknowns.
Reflecting, like he always did at the end of the day, Tom realized what Erik had silently accused him before being sorted into Ravenclaw. Betrayal.
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Disclaimer: Don't own Tom Riddle, Hogwarts, Harry Potter, et cetera.
Thank You's: Big big BIG thank you to Kai (Kuramakicksass) for helping me with the Sorting hat song, couldn't have done it without her, and for beta-reading this chapter. Also, I got the information about the Slytherin common room being under the lake from Harry Potter Lexicon. I don't think the links showed up last chapter so the general Harry Potter Lexicon site is hp-lexicon, only it's at .org, not .com.
A/N: I am so super sorry for taking so incredibly long. However, I now have a better estimate of how long it will be between updates. It is my unfortunate duty to tell you that updates will probably come every 3, 4, maybe 5 weeks, but hopefully more often than that. My teachers give way too much homework but I shall keep trying to update. If you want, I can e-mail you when I finish a chapter if you don't want to keep checking back. Oh, and if you don't already know, I put how far along I am in my profile. So check that if you're wondering. Hmm, that's all I think. Reviews are always appreciated.
