Tom bit into his last Chocolate Frog delicately, slowly savoring the smooth, creamy, rich flavor. It was so delicious! He nearly closed his eyes in contentment, but stopped himself. Chocolate hadn't hypnotized him so much as to make him let down his guard. However, he couldn't stop the smile that flitted across his face. It was the first time he had ever tasted something so delectable. He liked the other sweets that Sarah had shared well enough, but chocolate was by far the best. Tom noticed Sarah catch his eye and notice his smile. Tom was about to contort his face back into its smooth mask of indifference, since he was uncomfortable with acknowledging her generosity, not having ever acknowledging anything of the sort before. I don't want her to know that her sharing of her sweets actually affected me. It makes no difference to me. But before he could, she had looked down and smiled, a small smile that Tom could tell mirrored his own. Tom was confused. She parted with some of her chocolate. She loves it, and had bought it with her own money, and she willingly gave me some, without anything in return. And yet she seems happy when she watches me eat her sweets? I get angry when people take my things. Then again, the filthy scum at the orphanage would steal my rare possessions, so I had never actually given them permission, while here she gave me her sweets herself. But how could that make her happy? He figured that he could show her some gratitude, if only to be polite. Tom had a plan for maintaining a perfect self-image, and he figured now was the perfect opportunity to start on it. The first step, he figured, would be maintaining niceties.
"Thank you," Tom said. The words seemed strange, tasted almost foreign on his tongue, and Tom nearly winced as he said them. He threw in a smile for additional measure, since he was already going through the trouble to be polite. Sarah grinned in reply.
"Sure, no problem! See, I told you I'd be the one to introduce you to the wonderful world of chocolate! And I'm glad I had the honor of doing so. I feel special." Tom scoffed internally, fighting against rolling his eyes. Such a silly, petty thing can make her feel special? She must be a rather ordinary girl, not remarkable at all. She doesn't know what it means to be special. To be special is to be unique, to be great. Which is what I have every intention of being at Hogwarts. Tom shook himself out of his thoughts, knowing that if he continued this train of thought, he'd get lost and zone out, and that would look weird to Sarah. He couldn't afford to look weird. Instead, he forced a laugh at her statement, trying to think of what he should say in reply. He didn't have to think, however, for she spoke again.
"So, I was wondering - were you only reading Hogwarts: A History to pass time on the train ride, or were you trying to get through all of your textbooks before you got to school?"
"I actually finished reading all the books before getting on the train, but I decided to reread Hogwarts: A History to pass time on the train. Besides, it's impossible to remember everything in one reading, so it's not a waste of time." Tom realized that he sounded somewhat defensive near the end, and he nearly smacked himself. He didn't need to defend himself to anyone.
"Oh, I totally agree with you," Sarah replied, surprising Tom. Most of the kids he knew maintained at least a 10-meter distance from any books if they could help it. "I actually looked through some of the schoolbooks myself. I'll admit, I didn't go as far as you did. I hate history, and frankly, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi looked boring, but I did leaf through the other books. The books on Transfiguration, Potions, and other spell books I really enjoyed, but I can't wait until I can actually do the spells. Professor Dumbledore said that I couldn't use my wand at home, or anywhere outside of the Wizarding World." Tom grimaced at this. He didn't like Professor Dumbledore anyway, because of the suspicious way he regarded Tom when he mentioned his life at the orphanage. Of course, the old man would look at me badly for my actions. He didn't see, wouldn't understand the filth I had to deal with. They were bloody awful to me, they were, and magic was the only power I held over them, the only way I could show them not to mess with me. And it worked too. I don't see why he saw that as wrong.
"I was told the same thing. Something about proper adult supervision. And I really think it's an unfair rule," he told her. It seemed safe to tell her this. He wasn't insulting the professor or anything, just remarking on the rule. "How is a person supposed to practice magic? I'm assuming the rule holds in future summers. We will forget what we learn this way."
"Right? I was so excited to get a head start. I mean, this is magic we are talking about here. Something where you see results in front of you. This is something amazing, which everyone should want to practice as much as they can." Sarah was speaking animatedly, her eyes sparkling as she spoke of magic. Tom noticed that her enthusiasm actually mirrored his own, though he would never express it, at least not like this. He'd show it by excelling in all areas of magic.
"But couldn't you have just learned magic from your parents?" Tom asked. He was curious. He himself hadn't grown up around magical folk, but that was because he had been raised in a Muggle orphanage. He imagined most people grew up in Wizarding families. Tom worried that he would be quite behind other students, and it was actually one of the reasons he had pushed himself so much to read - he wanted to make sure he was as caught up as he could be with magic and the Wizarding World.
"No, I couldn't. Professor Dumbledore said that because I was Muggle-born, it wasn't safe for me to actually try any spells at home. He said I could hurt myself or my family, and no one would know what to do.
"Muggle-born?" Tom asked, unable to keep the surprise and curiosity out of his voice. That sounded like her parents were Muggles. But how would she have magic then?
"Yeah, it means that my parents are Muggles. What about you? If you weren't able to do magic either, and hadn't learned, that must mean that you are a Muggle-born too, right?" Tom nearly scowled. He didn't want to admit that he had no idea, since his parents had died and he had grown up in an orphanage. He figured it would be easier to lie.
"No, my parents are magical," Tom lied smoothly. "They were just really particular about me waiting until Hogwarts before actually trying out magic. Besides, I only got my school supplies two weeks ago, so I couldn't have done anything without a wand anyway."
"True. I got my supplies an entire month ago, so I've been really impatient and eager to start magic."
"You got your supplies a month ago?" Tom asked, his voice mostly indifferent and calm, but with a tinge of jealousy that Tom couldn't keep out. I have to work on my indifference, he thought. But she found out so much earlier than I did about her magic? That's so unfair.
"Yeah, I had so much fun shopping for school supplies. Diagonal Alley is amazing!" Tom couldn't agree with her more, especially since he had gotten the luxury of shopping for supplies on his own. It was a completely novel experience for him, since he had never handled money before, and he wanted to have this 'first time' the way he liked it - on his own, with complete independence.
"It truly is," Tom nodded his assent. Though he had been facing the window, Tom just noticed it, and saw that it was getting dark. "Hey, we better go change into our robes. I expect that we will be arriving soon." Sarah turned around, and her jaw dropped a little in an expression of great surprise.
"Oh gosh, it's so late! Time flew by so quickly!" Tom wouldmt admit this, but he agreed. It must have been at least six hours, but he barely noticed the long journey. Admitting that time flew, however, would be admitting that he had fun, as the saying 'time flies when you are having fun' came to him. The most fun he had was when he read books, but he hadn't done much of that during the train ride, since his time had been spent talking to the girl. And yet time flew. "Yes, we should probably go change," Sarah continued, bringing him back. "But let's meet back in this compartment, all right? Since we already know each other a bit better, we can stick together for now. How does that sound?" Tom didn't care either way, and actually thought it would be a bit of a bother to come back to the compartment, wait for her, and then get off, but he supposed that if they had time before exiting the train he might as well return to the compartment.
"Okay, sounds good," Tom agreed. It was only after they had parted ways to change that Tom reflected upon the girl. Wow, that girl can talk, he thought, amazed at her capacity for speaking. She's really persistent at keeping a conversation going. Honestly, she was even annoying at first. I probably would've started ignoring her soon. But then the sweet trolley had come, and she had bought and shared her own sweets with him. Somehow, that was almost a turning point. She actually shared with me. No one had ever shared anything with him before. Taken, certainly. But never shared. So he had to share with himself on their behalf, by taking children's things at the orphanage. The things that Dumbledore made him give back. Oh well, they were stupid, foolish Muggle toys anyway. Junk. But it served to remind them who held the power. But the girl had shared, and somehow, after the sweets the conversation had taken a more natural turn, and conversation had started coming easily. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised at how much he himself had said. Though it had come naturally at the time, he realized that he had never talked this much with anyone. He sometimes replied to the adults' questions at the orphanage, but except for the occasional argument or fight with the other kids, Tom never really talked to anyone. So to him, this was unnatural. Having finished changing, Tom walked back towards the compartment, bumping into Sarah on the way. Just then, the train started slowing down. Tom and Sarah stopped in the aisle, holding on to the walls, and the train soon came to a full stop. Tom and Sarah got off the train, and heard a voice.
"First-years, this way please. Follow me!" A male voice said. The man led them towards many boats. Tom and Sarah got into the same boat, along with two other people. Sarah started chatting with the other kids in the boat, giving Tom the time to look around and take in the scenery. The lake was dark, practically black, and the banks had many trees. It was nice, he thought. Calm. Peaceful.
"Duck," Sarah hissed loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts. Just in time, too, or else his head would've hit the top of the bridge. Everyone sat back up once they passed the bridge. Tom's heart had sped up in the panic, but he kept his face impassive. The dark helped further mask his face so that he looked unfixed.
"You're welcome," Sarah huffed. They got there soon. Tom looked up at the majestic castle in front of him and held back a gasp. Sounds around him alerted him to the fact that the other students failed in doing so, gasping loudly in amazement. The castle pointed tall and proud into the sky, with many towers with sharp peaks, and lights that made the whole thing glow like a beautiful jewel set against the jet-black sky. For the first time, Tom truly thought he could describe something as 'beautiful', and could've stayed up all night just staring at it. However, the students were ushered quickly into the building by a kind young man with a long auburn beard. Professor Dumbledore. Tom had to keep from letting a grimace come across his features. The fact that he was interrupted from staring at Hogwarts probably didn't help. The professor made them wait, but after what felt like a century, they were allowed inside the Great Hall and told to line up in alphabetical order. Sarah gave him a sad look since they were separated, with her near the front while he was closer to the back, but Tom simply gazed at her evenly. He then turned towards the middle of the Great Hall and stood slightly on tiptoe. He saw an old, tatty, patched hat on the stool. So this is the hat that's going to Sort us? Tom wondered. It looked even more unassuming in real life than it had in the book, and Tom frankly thought it was unimpressive. However, his assumptions were shattered when the Hat seemed to straighten up and a tear in the Hat widened. Then, to his amazement, the Hat started to sing.
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
Then, Professor Dumbledore started calling out names of the first-years to be Sorted.
"Abbot, Elisa!" The Hat sat on her head a few more minutes before yelling, "Hufflepuff!" The Hufflepuff table applauded loudly. After a few more students, Sarah was up. Tom paid attention, curious to see which House she'd be Sorted into, especially after all her worries about not belonging. The Hat was placed on her head, and the Great Hall was silent. Thirty seconds had gone by, and the Hat still hadn't said anything, though Tom noticed that Sarah was looking up at the Hat. He knew from the book that the Hat often talked to its students, and wondered what mental conversation they were having. A minute went by. Two minutes. Three. Tom briefly wondered if Sarah had inadvertently been right, and she in fact couldn't be Sorted. Would she have to be sent home? But he shook his head. Even the sound of the prospect seemed ridiculous. Tom saw the tear in the Hat widen. He waited.
"Slytherin!" It yelled. Sarah, still seeming stunned, walked off towards the Slytherin table. There was only a smattering of faint applause, and Tom was a little curious, but he simply put it off to the fact that the Slytherin crowd seemed more serious and less boisterous. That is, until he overheard the boy in front of him, who was talking to his friend.
"What? The Sorting Hat placed that Mudblood filth in Slytherin? Our noble House, home of the real purebloods, has been tainted with dirt!" He sneered. Tom was puzzled. Mudblood? That must be a slang term for a Muggleborn. Salazar Slytherin, he knew, had been famous for his belief in pure-blood supremacy, but Tom had always thought it was because he didn't trust Muggles to keep magic a secret and allow the Wizarding World to function normally and peacefully, but he didn't imagine it to be out of spite. Though if all Muggles were like the ones he knew, Tom felt that they didn't deserve to know and potentially benefit from magic. But Tom was surprised by the boy's statement, and was even more surprised when he saw that most of the Slytherins had ignored Sarah, with the exception of a girl who sat beside her. The line slowly inched forward, and Tom got more and more anxious. What if I am the one who's impossible to Sort, he couldn't help but worry, no matter what he may have told Sarah. But he had read Hogwarts: A History, and he read about Salazar Slytherin. In particular, though Tom hadnt mentioned it to Sarah, Tom thought of Slytherin's ability to speak Parseltongue, the language of snakes. Tom had discovered at the orphanage that he could speak to snakes, and snakes were often his best companions. The thing that excited him was that the book said that Parseltongue was passed down genetically. That could mean that he could speak Parseltongue, and could be Slytherin's descendant! In that case, Tom belonged in Slytherin, without a doubt, more than perhaps even the pureblood wizards and witches. Finally, his turn came up. He walked up to the stool confidently, his back straight, head held high, keeping eye contact with the professor until he put the hat on his head. Or, rather, almost did, since the Hat didn't say anything to him. It didn't even touch his head before making its decision.
"Slytherin!" It yelled. I knew I belonged there, Tom smirked. He saw an empty seat next to Sarah, and sat in it. However, once he sat down, he realized his situation. Tom had noticed that there had been little applause for him too, mostly coming only from Sarah. However, there had been a lot of applause from the Slytherins for people such as Abraxas Malfoy. These must be those purebloods that the boy was mentioning earlier, Tom realized. Riddle must not be a pureblood name then, just like Aylette isn't. I had been able to fool Sarah, since she was a Muggleborn, but they won't be fooled. So I can't really lie, and these kids seem rich - I can tell by their robes. They seemed to talk about Muggleborns as if they are filth. I could speak Parseltongue in front of them, prove that I am a Slytherin, literally, by blood, but then I'll be expected to turn against Sarah along with them. He looked in her direction and thought that he would have no problem with that. Except she is very friendly, and will probably have a large friend circle, likely an inter-house circle. If I treat her badly along with the other Slytherins, she can tell her friends and make me look bad. And I can't afford that either if I am to have a flawless reputation as a perfect student and, yes, even classmate. The teachers could hate me if they see me as a stereotypical Slytherin. Tom almost groaned at the mess he was in, all because of the girl. How the bloody hell did she even get herself into Slytherin anyway? She has the personality of the stupid Gryffindors, who all seem very boisterous. Or maybe Ravenclaw, if the Hat deemed her intelligent enough. But there's no way that girl is cunning! And to make things worse, she's actually taken an interest in talking to me! Not that I have any interest in talking to her anymore, now that the train ride is over. After all, I have no use for talking to her anymore. He had to look good, kind, perfect in front of everyone, but also had to avoid being mistreated by his own House members, many of whom were probably powerful. What should I do? He asked himself, thoroughly confused.