August 6, 1938
Harry was of the firm opinion that Diagon Alley was the best place in the whole entire universe. If he had his way, he would spend all of his time there exploring. However, their Monday expedition the day after Dumbledore's visit had caused some unfavourable repercussions for missing "muggle" school and they were forced to wait almost two weeks before they were let free. Harry could still smell the cleaning materials that he had used during his punishment.
They were so close! Harry felt that if he were able, he would float off the ground from the sheer happiness that was filling him. Tom's magic at his side showed that he was just as excited, although he persisted trying to act like an adult with his impeccable clothing, smooth stride, and blank mien.
Harry wondered when Tom would notice that Harry had untucked his shirt and messed up his hair in the back.
They walked into the Leaky Cauldron, Harry sighing in relief. At his side, Tom shivered in discomfort.
"Sorry," Harry said, throwing up a blanket of magic around Tom again. "Forgot."
"Sure you did," Tom spat. Harry could almost imagine him bristling like one of those cats that hung around the orphanage. Although Tom didn't want to admit it, Harry knew that he disliked how weak he was without Harry's support.
Harry patted Tom on the head, grinning. "Kit's having a bad day?"
"Oh stuff it," Tom said, looking away and speeding toward the entrance to Diagon Alley. Harry huffed and raced after him, ducking a few exposed arms and avoiding a few chairs with a sense of satisfaction. After the wonder of Diagon Alley and being able to see, it had been difficult to get used to not seeing anything except for Tom.
A few speedy taps from Tom's magic-infused fist and the magic of the doorway was activated, swirling as it pulled the bricks apart. Then Harry saw Diagon Alley again and almost wanted to cry from how lovely it was.
"Where do we go first?" Tom asked, eyes scanning the street and magic flickering with excitement.
"Oh, can we get some candy?" Harry said, giving in to the urge to jump up and down. "I remember a sweetshop! And Tom, magical candy. Don't tell me you're not excited!"
Tom covered his face with a hand, sighing. "Just because we finally received a second pouch from the bird express doesn't mean we can spend it all on candy."
"We already bought everything else we need with only one pouch. Imagine how much candy we can buy with enough money to get both of our school supplies!"
"Bought," Tom said with a smirk. "Yeah, bought… But we're not spending all of it, okay? I might be interested in candy-"
"Don't lie, you're just as bad as I am," Harry accused with a grin, walking away from the entrance.
"Are you calling me a liar, Dove? I'm hurt!" Tom said, pantomiming being stabbed with a knife and collapsing to his knees.
Harry raised his eyebrows at Tom's dramatic display, walking over and grabbing him by the arm. "Come on, Mister Dramatic, the candy awaits!"
"You're just as bad," Tom said as they wove through the crowds, looking for any sign of a sweetshop. "Oh, here's the one I remember seeing last time, Madam Fancourt's Confectionary Delights."
Harry eyed the glowing café, display window covered in so much magic it was like looking at a miniature sun. "We're going here." Harry grabbed onto Tom's sleeve, heading toward the door of the shop through the crowd, biting back a grin at the swears and hurried apologies behind him as Tom found himself not fitting into the spaces that Harry had slipped through seconds before. There were certain advantages to being smaller, Harry thought as they finally stepped through the door of the sweetshop.
It smelled heavenly.
The café was filled with rows and rows of shelves bearing glowing candies of rainbow colors and that was all that Harry wanted to care about at that moment. An hour later, Harry wandered over to some tables in the back in a daze, mind spinning with anticipation about Chocolate Frogs, Ice Mice, Pepper Imps, Jelly Slugs, Chocoballs…
Tom returned from the counter, arms full of various sweets which he dumped on the table in front of them. "So," Tom asked with mock seriousness, staring into Harry's eyes. "Which shall we try first?"
Harry picked up a small blue package and began to open it. Tom picked up a similar package and unwrapped it. The candy glowed with blue and white and was shaped much like the mice it was named for. Harry and Tom's eyes met and they both took a bite of the Ice Mice at the same time.
They tasted rather like wine gums. Harry was about to say so when his teeth clattered and squeaked, his jaw moving almost without his control.
"What is-," Tom began to say before his teeth chattered and a round of peeps sounded, cutting off his speech.
"I don't-," Harry began only for his teeth to squeak several times in succession before he felt the magic release his jaw. "That was so funny!" Harry said, looking in wonder at the rest of the Ice Mouse in his hand.
Tom raised an eyebrow and squeaked a dramatic finale, increasing in intensity and reminding Harry of the way Tom's little speeches grew in passion when he was excited about something.
"That's not fair!" Harry said. "Yours was so much cooler!"
"I am just that awesome," Tom said with a grin, finishing the rest of his Ice Mouse and reaching for another sweet.
They snacked on sweets for the better part of an hour, sampling them at leisure. On a few occasions, Harry attempted to manipulate the magic of the sweets, with rather frightening results. The Pepper Imps ended up catching fire before they could be eaten and the Acid Pops made very effective explosions. When Harry began messing around with Chocolate Frogs…Harry knew that there was no way that the situation would end well but he would not be stopped.
"Kit, isn't this amazing?" Harry asked, watching the Chocolate Frog hop around in front of him.
Tom waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "The other sweets were much more interesting. This only pretends to be a real-aiii!" Tom shrieked as the Chocolate Frog jumped onto his face. Tom stood up from his chair with a violent move and leapt backwards, swatting at his face.
"I like it," Harry said, grinning as Tom's magic shivered in horror. "We should keep it as a pet. It has character." He stood up and plucked the frog off Tom's face, looking at it with interest as the magic began winding down. Perhaps he could extend it…a twitch of his fingers and the shape for time was wound again.
Tom gave him a horrified look. "No," he said, grabbing the frog out of Harry's hand and biting off its head before eating the rest.
Harry watched with wide eyes as Tom suddenly turned green. "Dove…did you…do something?"
"I might have extended the time the magic worked…"
Tom gave another shriek before heaving, shooting Harry a betrayed look. "Undo it!"
Harry bit his lip and squinted, trying to look through the magic of Tom's stomach. To his dismay, the woven gold and green strands of magic were very dense and the only thing that showed through the netting were flashes of blue magic.
"Tom, I can't see it. You'll uh, have to wait…" Harry trailed off, giving a sheepish smile and messing with his hair. Tom's eyes promised murder.
After a few minutes of dry heaving and Harry's rather insincere apologies, they finally left the café. To Harry's surprise, Tom grabbed the Chocolate Frog cards they'd collected, magic twisting in embarrassment.
"Kit, why did you…"
"It has facts on it, okay?"
"…Whatever you say, Kit."
Diagon Alley had so many things that clamoured for Tom's attention that he was surprised that he hadn't yet gone mad from the overwhelming stimuli. He found himself watching and cataloguing everything he saw and smelled, on occasion murmuring into Harry's ear when he saw something of particular note.
The street curved before them, the stores on both sides increasing in height and danger, tilting in various directions. Tom surmised that the only thing that was keeping them up was magic, if the intensity of the magic he was smelling from the buildings was any indication. He examined a tall building whose windows were located in a haphazard arrangement, one window even appearing as if it was stuck between two floors. His eyes flitted to the one next to it and he hummed as he read the sign.
"Dove, we're going to buy clothes."
Harry pouted. "Why clothes? We can just nick some later."
"We need clothes that fit better," Tom said, tugging on Harry's oversize shirt for emphasis. "We'll be going to a new place and I want to make a decent impression."
"Fine," Harry said as they walked into the store. The store was dim, the only light streaming in through a dirty window. Despite the sombre lighting, the store was decorated in bright colours inside and contained numerous racks of clothes both muggle and wizard.
Tom stepped up to a rack and began shuffling through it, eyeing the size of a wizard "tunic" patterned in green and purple cats.
"I like it," Harry said, leaning closer. "The pattern looks really nice."
Tom froze, turning to look at Harry with wide eyes. "Nice?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Dark blue and silver look nice together and the spirals of magic on it look really fun."
Tom buried his head in the clothing rack, giving a heavy sigh. "It appears I will have to continue picking out your clothes for you lest you come out looking like you've joined the circus."
"Need any help?" a voice sounded from behind Tom. He jerked, turning to look at a young saleswoman with heated cheeks.
"Yes," Harry said. "Tom believes that I have horrible taste. He's wrong, though, obviously."
The saleswoman raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Of course. Come here…"
The saleswoman proceeded to drag Harry and a reluctant Tom around the store, cheerfully agreeing with Harry's tastes. After a bit too many silences following her comments on the colour combinations, the saleswoman looked sideways at Harry.
"Pardon my asking, but are you colour-blind?"
"Ah, yes, I am," Harry stuttered. Tom fought the urge to slap his hand against his forehead. So obvious…
"Well, you're lucky! You look to be muggleborns?"
Tom gave a nod, raising an eyebrow at the cheerful lady.
"You should be glad you can't see colour. Some of those things we stock over there," she said, motioning toward the 'muggle' section, "are terrible. I'll let you in on a trade secret. Those uppity purebloods can't recognize muggle fashion even if their high and fancy blood would be able to tolerate it around their person. It's pretty much an agreement between all muggleborns in clothing stores ever to sell them the silliest things."
The saleswoman picked up a strange outfit that appeared to be all one piece, covered in orange and black stripes. "We market this as party wear." Picking up a long, green skirt, she said, "This is the highest fashion for business wear for men, of course."
Tom wanted to scoff at the petty vengefulness of the matter but Harry clapped, delighted. "That sounds hilarious! Do people actually buy them?"
"Yes," the saleswoman said with a smug grin. "They do."
"Why do muggleborns do this? What is the cause for this 'revenge?'" Tom said, masking his distaste with a polite smile.
The saleswoman's expression fell. "Oh, you poor dears. You don't know. It's because those of us whose parents are muggles – nonmagicals – are considered to be of a lesser class. We don't have generations of inbreeding to qualify us," she spat with a frown.
"We'll take these," Harry said, collecting a few of the clothing items they'd chosen earlier. "Thank you for the help."
"Nothing I wouldn't do for a fellow mudblood," the saleswoman said, mouth twisting into a resolute grimace.
September 1, 1938
Harry and Tom had been slipping away into Diagon Alley as often as they could over the past few weeks, intent on discovering its wonders and acclimatizing to wizarding culture. Following the conversation with the muggleborn at the clothing store, Tom had decided that they needed to investigate the details so that they would not be caught unaware or ignorant upon their first meetings with their future classmates.
Harry and Tom had begun, for all intents and purposes, living in bookstores. The remains of their money pouches were scant and Tom wanted to save them for small purchases that might become necessary in the future, if they were to discover something they needed that wasn't officially on the supply list. Although Tom didn't say it aloud, Harry also knew that Tom was saving some of the money for bribes. Tom thought he was being subtle but his obsessive rearranging of the 'nonessential' emergency coins into little stacks spoke for him.
Although Tom insisted on rotating bookstores every few times they arrived so that they could get a wider spread of books (and to avoid making it obvious that they were using the stores as libraries), they nevertheless spent most of their time in Flourish and Blotts, as it had the largest stock. It had at least twice as many books as its nearest competitor. To Harry's dismay, it was also better protected from their twitching fingers. Swathes of intricate magic littered the shelves and floated over the books, suspended like balloons attached with gossamer magical thread. Despite the delicate appearance, Harry's inexperienced eye understood that the magic was not to be trifled with so easily.
Harry's fingers twirled deep in his pocket, knotting a stray thread. Tom was flipping through a dozen books at lightning speed, hoping to absorb even a tiny bit more information. It was nine in the morning and Kings Cross was a rather long walk away, though not as long as their walk to Diagon Alley was.
"Hurry up," Harry said, biting his lip. The chaotic dancing of their magic wasn't helping his anxiety. "It would be terrible to miss the train!"
"We won't miss it," Tom said without looking away from his book. He flipped through it for a few seconds before huffing and throwing it down on the table.
"Are you satisfied that we know enough?"
Tom turned and sighed. "Hopefully."
They walked out of Flourish and Blotts and sped down the street toward the Leaky Cauldron. The street was fairly empty this early in the morning, the buildings standing unobstructed from Harry's view. They walked quickly through the Leaky Cauldron and slipped out into London proper.
In contrast, it was a lot louder and smellier. The stink of exhaust and manure invaded Harry's nose and the clatter of horseshoes and mechanical bits made Harry hiss in discomfort. He gripped Tom's sleeve tighter. He was going to go to Hogwarts soon, where he could see again. Just a little bit more of the smelly Muggle world and he would be free.
Tom pulled Harry through the crowds, around hawking newspaper boys spouting terror headlines about Germany and tarp-covered carriages. One memorable moment, Tom cursed in Parseltongue and yanked Harry across the road right in front of several growling automobiles. After they managed to cross the road unharmed, Harry dug his feet into the ground until Tom turned around.
"We're not that late. Slow down before you kill us!"
"I'm sorry if I'm a little too worried that we make it to King's Cross, which holds our ticket out of this depraved slum," Tom said with a scowl.
Harry reached out and yanked at Tom's magic. "I'm serious. I was worried earlier but at the rate you're taking us we might just end up in a mortuary."
"Don't do that." Tom's magic shook.
"I won't do it if you actually listen to me."
"Fine." Tom grabbed Harry's sleeve and began ploughing through the crowds, albeit at a slower pace. Harry sighed but allowed Tom his small revenge. Tom hated it whenever Harry messed with his magic but sometimes, he knew, it was the only way that Harry could get his attention.
The sun finally rose over the tops of the buildings enough to start to burn at the skin on Harry's face. Harry closed his eyes and let himself follow Tom's lead completely, feeling like a small ship tossed around in an impersonal sea. Small scents such as perfume or flowers danced by for a second at a time.
"Hey Kit… what do you think everyone else back at the orphanage will think? Us going to some fancy private school?"
"It doesn't matter. When we come back," Tom said, magic expanding around him in a halo, "we'll be strong enough to deal with anything that comes at us."
King's Cross had so many people Tom felt almost nauseated. The clear majority were Muggles but even then, the primal stink of sweat mixed with artificial perfume was enough to send Tom's senses a bit haywire. He had managed to get them to King's Cross on time, but he was unsure if they could find the appropriate platform before the train left.
What was it that Dumbledore had said? An illusion… a barrier between platforms nine and ten. Tom scanned the mass of people around him for the aforementioned barrier. To his dismay, people towered over his head, limiting his vision to brief flashes of his surroundings as they rushed by. Above the heads of the masses hung a cloud of steam, recently escaped from a nearby locomotive. In the middle of the manmade fog, Tom could spot a few signs. Telegraph office, cloak room... not what they needed. He headed in that direction anyway. If the numbers of the platforms near him were any indicator, his chosen direction was promising.
Harry jerked. "Tom, I saw something ahead of us."
Tom focused his eyes past the dissipating steam, noticing a gap in the crowd through which he could see a girl with an owl cage. She was doing her best to balance it on top of a large trolley, although did not appear to be having much success. Definitely a witch, he thought, although running an eye over her parents didn't reveal anything incriminating. Tom did a ninety-degree turn in her direction, Harry quivering with excitement at his side.
"We're almost there, Kit! Can you believe it?"
Anticipation licked at Tom's insides. They were so close. They had time – the clocks said that it was ten thirty – and already they could spot evidence of magic. They were almost at the train. And after the train…they would be at Hogwarts, where the hum of power that surrounded Tom every day could be directed and woven in more advanced ways than he and Harry had ever been able to come up with. It would be a refuge where they wouldn't be the only magical children anymore. Tom doubted that it would be all roses because humans were inherently flawed, magical or not, but in the very least knowledge of magic that he could use in the open would allow him to prevail where Muggle, physical strength would not.
"Yes, Dove. I can believe it."
Tom spotted platform nine and platform ten near-instantly, the two signs appearing almost superimposed upon each other. He looked over the pillars on the side of the platform, counting them from both ends. Finally, one pillar was left right in the middle of the platforms. The girl with the owl cage that he had seen earlier grabbed her parent's hands and together, all three of them raced at the barrier, melting through it as if their bodies were suddenly overcome with the urge not to exist.
Harry let go of Tom and jogged up to the barrier, bouncing on his toes. "Come on, Tom, move faster!"
Tom rolled his eyes and walked up next to him. He looked at Harry, whose eyes were like bright green suns, and felt himself relax. Harry took his hand and together as one, they ran at the barrier. Brick rushed forward. Small cracks grew in size and the scent of daffodils rushed into Tom's nose. Then, sensory chaos as biting smells assaulted Tom's nose. He closed his eyes and tried not to breathe. Next to him, Harry let go of his hand and then the sharp scent of ice and pine muted everything.
"Better?" Harry asked.
"Better." Tom opened his eyes. There were witches and wizards everywhere, wearing a bright rainbow of colours that were nothing like the dull browns and greys that Tom had just seen in Muggle London. Unlike Diagon Alley, the few adult witches and wizards were outnumbered by a whole army of children. The older teenagers stood in large groups, talking, while the youngest children seemed to be doing their hardest to escape their parents in a bid to sneak away to Hogwarts.
"Do you think that we should get our trunks unshrunk now?" Harry asked, pulling two tiny trunks out of his pockets. Tom bit back a laugh at the white string stuck on one of the trunks, evidence that Harry was reverting back to his old habits of playing with string while nervous.
"Yes, good idea. We don't know how benevolent the older students are. Come on, do your thing."
Harry nodded and walked away, stopping in front of random adult witches and wizards, showing their shrunken trunks and no doubt spilling a sob story about how they forgot to ask their parents to unshrink their trunks before they left. Tom gave a fond smile but then stared at the ground, feeling an unusual level of anxiety rise within him. They had never decided upon how to approach the subject of Harry's not-quite-blindness in the Wizarding World. It had to be a secret, as Ollivander had told them, but would anyone believe that Harry was completely blind? What kind of teaching arrangements would be done to compensate? Perhaps it would be most beneficial to pretend Harry could still see to some extent, that he was visually impaired enough to have trouble seeing the board but such that could not be fixed with glasses? The teachers would likely be more amenable to placing them together in that event as well, especially if Tom fed them stories about their Muggle schooling together.
Harry walked back to Tom, lugging both of their trunks. "It was really easy, as usual. What are you thinking about?"
"What to do about your situation," Tom said as he took his trunk from Harry and began pulling it towards the scarlet steam engine. A conductor took both of their tickets and they dragged their trunks aboard.
The steam engine was still empty. Tom surmised that most of the students were still giving their last goodbyes to their family and siblings. Tom turned into the first empty compartment that he found and closed the door behind Harry. With a wave of his hand, Tom levitated his trunk onto the overhead shelf as Harry did the same to his. Harry collapsed next to the window, throwing a hand over his forehead and giving a great sigh. Tom sat down across from him, running a hand through his hair to fix it and giving a casual wave of his hand to remove the creases from his shirt.
"I was thinking that you pretend to have really bad vision; you can't see the board and it can't be fixed with glasses, but well enough that you can recognize people," Tom said
"That works. I'm just so happy that we're here," Harry mumbled, yawning into his hand. "We're finally here but my feet are so tired that I want to sleep more than anything. We can figure out the details later."
Tom nodded in assent. "Can't sleep yet, though. It's too dangerous while we don't know anyone. Speaking of dangerous, we should probably get out of these Muggle clothes."
Harry propped up his feet on Tom's lap. "I don't want to get up. Get the robes, please."
Tom slid out from under Harry's feet with a grimace. He knew exactly where those shoes had been and even if he was wearing mere Muggle clothes, he didn't want to be in any way acquainted with the muddy dregs of London. "I think that you, dearest Dove, should get the robes. Have you forgotten who has the money pouches?" Tom gave Harry his most charming and winning smile.
Harry's hand slid off his face as he stared at Tom in betrayal. Tom smirked in satisfaction as Harry launched off his seat with a huff and began levitating the trunks down, opening them without touching a single one with his hands. Instead of placing them on the floor, Harry kept them two feet off the floor. Show-off, Tom thought. They had practiced at home and Tom could only manage lifting one of them.
"Tom, you have so many books in here I can't-"
The door to their apartment began to slide open.
Harry jumped and his control over his magic slipped, allowing Tom's trunk to fall right into Tom's legs. Tom's eyes bulged and he fought himself to keep any noises of pain inside.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Harry cried, pulling the trunk off Tom's legs.
There was a giggle from the doorway. A girl with curled and pinned black hair and glasses leaned against the doorframe, shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Something funny?" Tom wheezed out, summoning his most menacing glare and hoping that the forming tears in his eyes wouldn't detract from its intensity.
"Yes," the girl giggled again before turning serious. "Are you okay? I'm Minerva, Minerva of House McGonagall. Second year."
"Just peachy," Tom said, giving Harry a sharp look.
Minerva stepped inside their compartment, looking them over with unhidden curiosity. "Are you first-years?"
"Yes," Harry said, placing the trunk on the ground and running his hand through his hair. "Is it obvious?"
"No, not really," Minerva assured Harry, running her eyes down their ragged apparel.
"Ah, good. It's nice to meet you, Minerva. I'm Harry Riddle." Harry smiled and stuck out his hand. Minerva shook it before turning to Tom.
"I'm Tom Riddle. His cousin," Tom said with an incline of his head. He shook Minerva's hand and sighed. "Apologies for that terrible first impression. We could have met under better conditions."
"Ah, it's fine. If you want, I'll give you a second chance later," Minerva said, waving it off before heading to the door. "Anyway, I was just checking to see if this compartment was open. I'll see you later – you should definitely try to get into Gryffindor!"
After Minerva slid the door shut, Tom slammed his face into his palms and gave a heaving sigh. "That was a disaster. She smelled like gingerbread cookies. Colour?"
"A dark orange. I don't think it went that badly," Harry said, pulling out Tom's robe and handing it over with a sheepish look.
Tom took it and stood up, slipping on the robe over his white shirt and buttoning it shut at the top. "It could have been better. Next time someone comes in, we should be prepared. Now, I don't think we should be walking around and going into people's compartments. We are younger than them and who knows what kinds of people the other students are."
"Where's your sense of adventure, Kit?" Harry said, throwing his arms skyward. "We should instead definitely go exploring. Meeting new people – I'm sorry, allies – can only be beneficial to do as early as possible. The lay of the land and all that."
Tom stared at the fabric of his robes, deep in thought. While they would lose their home-ground advantage, it would be a good idea to make connections before they were divided by the mysterious Sorting. "Put on your robes, then."
Harry grumbled but began putting his robes on. Tom ran his fingers over his wand in his pocket, thoughtful. Maybe they should figure out how to do a spell or two for defence first. They had mastered quite a few things during their childhood in the orphanage but none of it was something that they could summon on the spot. Most of their magic required an intense amount of concentration to accomplish except for the most minor of things, such as basic levitation (which the lifting of two trunks was not).
"You did raise some good points. If anything, levitate them – you can no doubt manage that – or try to levitate their wands right out of their hands. Let's go."
Tom turned to leave when Harry shouted, "Wait!"
"What?" Tom asked, half-turning.
"We forgot to put up security," Harry said, hand hovering over his trunk. "Do yours and I'll do mine."
Tom chided himself under his breath as he wove magic over his trunk. To forget something so basic was unlike him. He was too anxious about going to Hogwarts if he was slipping and forgetting such important things such as the security of their possessions.
Finished, Tom left the compartment with Harry following behind.
"Where to first?" Harry asked, looking down the corridor.
"Does it matter? I'm sure we'll get where we need to go," Tom said before stepping forward.
Avery leaned forward, hands on his knees. "What if one of us doesn't get into Slytherin?"
Malfoy sighed, hand reaching up to his hair as if to ruffle it before jerking down. "Stop your speculations, Avery, I shan't think they would do any good." He slipped into a slump before jerking upright.
Lenus Nott rolled his eyes. Avery and Malfoy hadn't changed in the slightest. Here they were, finally old enough to go to Hogwarts and Avery was still an airhead and Malfoy hadn't yet learned to keep that Malfoy stick up his ass in place for extended periods of time. At least Mulciber and Rosier were behaving with comportment. They had to put on a strong showing for the other purebloods; it wouldn't do to break character yet.
"But really, Abraxas!" Avery whined. Lenus huffed in irritation, slapping Avery upside the head.
"No first names! It's not that difficult, Avery."
"Of course it's difficult," Avery said, glaring at Lenus with narrowed eyes as he ran his hand through his bright yellow hair.
"Don't be a baby," Mulciber said, eyes fixed upon the game of Exploding Snap he was playing with Rosier. Avery's mouth twisted and Lenus watched in tired irritation how Mulciber almost fell off the seat from a well-placed kick.
Avery sniffed as he drew his leg back. "You're one to talk. Anyway, can I join?"
"Next game," Rosier said, leaning down to look at the mess of cards in front of him. Lenus had to hold back a smile as the cards blew up in his face. Rosier was always a bit slow.
There was a knock at the door. Lenus watched from his spot by the window as Malfoy straightened and called, "Come in!" with a tone that screamed "pureblood heir." Lenus was somewhat impressed; for all Malfoy had difficulty keeping his mask on for extended periods of time, he was a master at applying it for short occasions.
The door slid open, a tall boy with dark hair and grey eyes standing with confidence, dressed in immaculate Hogwarts robes. A shorter boy stood behind him with unnerving green eyes that flicked between everyone in half a second. The tall boy stepped forward, extending his hand toward Malfoy. "Tom of House Riddle. May my cousin and I sit here?"
Lenus raised an eyebrow in disbelief. A boy of questionable heritage—he was definitely no pureblood with that surname—introducing himself in the wizarding way? It wasn't every day you heard of someone like that. Most mudbloods vehemently rejected wizarding culture to the point that most pureblood wizards found it more pleasant to ignore their existence. But these two… Lenus watched as Malfoy stood there for a few seconds, thinking it over, before shaking Riddle's hand.
"A pleasure," Malfoy said, words falling from his lips in exaggerated slowness. "Abraxas of House Malfoy. Of course you may." Malfoy gave a wave to the seats between Rosier and the door before turning to the shorter boy and holding out a hand.
"Harry of House Riddle," the second Riddle said, shaking Malfoy's hand for a moment, eyes darting around Malfoy's face. His eyes never stayed in one place; they kept flashing from side to side like glowing green snitches. Both Riddles sat down where directed, a smile lurking on the taller Riddle's face.
"Flavian of House Avery," Avery said quickly. "Are you half-bloods?" His eyes peered over at the Riddles with undisguised curiosity. Lenus gave a mental sigh at how forward Avery was. If any one of them might not get Slytherin, it would be Avery.
The taller Riddle exchanged a look with the shorter before turning to Avery, a sharp smile on his face. "My parents died before they could tell me."
Avery's eyes grew wide and he lifted up his hands. "Oh, I'm sorry!" Lenus sucked in a breath, wanting to kick Avery for acting in such a casual manner. He was a pureblood heir, for Hecate's sake! Lenus re-evaluated his estimation of the taller Riddle's intelligence. That manner of dodging the question was quite Slytherin of him, reminding Lenus of the lessons his father had imparted upon him before he left for Hogwarts.
"It's alright," the taller Riddle said with a wave of his hand. "I presume you all are purebloods?"
"Lenus of House Nott," Lenus said, shaking the taller Riddle's hand. "We are."
"Well met. And who might you be?" the taller Riddle asked, looking at Mulciber and Rosier.
Mulciber leaned past Rosier, rubbing soot from his face with a forlorn expression. "Augustus of House Mulciber. And he's Dantanian of House Rosier." Rosier didn't even twitch as Mulciber introduced him, still focused on the spread of cards in front of him. Lenus decided it wasn't worth it to protest against the lack of decorum; they were all useless. He would have to take what he could get.
Ever the socialite, Avery burst in with a question. "What houses do you think you'll be in?"
The shorter Riddle—Lenus was going to have to refer to them by full name—answered. "Tom is a definite Slytherin. I'm not too sure about myself, though."
"You're a Slytherin too," Tom Riddle said, waving his hand and leaning back. "How about all of you?"
Avery grinned, throwing arms around Malfoy and Lenus's shoulders. "We're all going to be Slytherin, no question about it. It's a family tradition. However, he," Avery pointed at Rosier, "is a Ravenclaw if I ever saw one."
"Ravenclaw is a perfectly good house," Mulciber said, looking up from his cards. "My mother was from Ravenclaw."
"I never said it wasn't," Avery assured. Lenus had to agree; Slytherin was the greatest, but Ravenclaw was rather tolerable.
"How can you be so sure?" Lenus asked, looking carefully at Tom Riddle's confident slouch.
"I have my reasons," Tom Riddle said before turning to speak quietly in Harry Riddle's ear, who smirked and closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat. Lenus raised his eyebrows before turning to talk to an excited Avery chattering on about some Quidditch player's new team position. They were strange, but they could stay. Perhaps they'd even fit into Slytherin.
AN: Introduced a large number of the main cast. Developing them took forever and I'm excited to write them. This story is primarily Harry and Tom's point of view but I might throw in some of theirs. It's funny how much some of them think they know. Pretty much everyone in my story is an unreliable narrator. Lenus Nott is such an arsehole, isn't he? Every snotty Malfoy needs an equally snotty best friend.
Apologies for the really long time between this update and that of the last! I honestly…didn't mean for it to be 4.5 months. If any of you have been following me on my Tumblr, you'll be aware that my life was pretty much a mess for quite a while (still is, actually). I think I'm getting back in the swing of things, however, so future updates will come out without such long delays. Thank you to lowonbattery, StrangeSoulmates, and my dearest Scarfy for help/nagging/inspiration and support! This chapter would be nowhere without you.
