Hey, guys, happy new year! (if you follow the gregorian calendar). . .not mine.

Beta: lil'hawkeye3, the incredible one

The station of King's Cross was crowded with most weird kinds of people. From old grandparents watching their grandchildren entering on the train, to babies saying goodbye to their old brothers and sisters. Anya wore common wizarding robes, as did Tom. As soon as they had arrived in Flourish and Blotts, the wizard boy had discovered about blood hierarchy – which seemed of great importance to most of the wizards. They had purchased the school materials with the Hogwarts funds and then Tom had stolen some galleons of passers-by – it was much more difficult to steal from wizards as they had to be more careful with their magic, they concluded, but not impossible.

After that, Tom had decided that they should at least disguise themselves as half-bloods, and because of that, each of one of them had gained two robes – the best that their theft prey could afford. The man had lost a large sum of money, apparently, and now she was the proud owner of two velvet gowns. The one she wore was made of velvet silk and had trumpet sleeves and surplice neckline, it was an ugly yellow colour when she bought, but she had made it dark green with a simple flick of wand. It was rather formal, but she didn't seem out of the crowd there. The other was made of hemp, it had hanging sleeves and an asymmetric neckline and it was of a maroon colour – even more formal. When she had argued with Tom that she would be unable to use them every weekend, he had stolen more money from a muggle and they bought some knee-high dresses for her and a simple cloak.

Tom had preferred a high-necked dark robe – the one he was wearing – and another whose overcoat had hanging sleeves similar to hers. He had also bought some fitting wool jackets and cotton trousers – all of them dark.

In short, they didn't look like orphans, and much less muggles. Tom was satisfied.

Still, no one came to say goodbye as they entered inside them train, so you could forget about the orphans statement. Anya didn't care much about, she had lived her life without parents, and she wouldn't miss them after her whole childhood. But she knew that Tom still hide a bit of jealousy in his heart, he had lived his whole life as an orphan in middle of several, but now in Hogwarts, it would be different. She touched his shoulder gently.

"We should find a place, soon people will start arriving." They had been one of the firsts to enter in the train, so it would be easy to find a place. And indeed, it was easy. They found the perfect compartment, private enough and faraway of the place the most loudly kids started to gather. They easily levitated their trunks to the places and sat down, Tom with Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy in his hands and Anya leaning over The Decline of Pagan Magic.

Soon after that, the door of their compartment was opened, revealing two dark haired children that seemed to be of their age. They seemed to be brothers, as both of the boy and the girl had sharp features and full lips, their main difference being the eyes – while the boy's were almond shaped and grey, the girl's were downturned and hazel.

"Excuse us, may we sit with you?"

They were obviously purebloods, and that was enough reason for Tom. He smiled pleasantly to them, saying: "Of course. I'm Tom Marvolo Riddle, by the way. And this is Anastasia Lynda Donbyre."

"We are Orion Arcturus Black and Dorea Lyra Black, it's a pleasure," the boy introduced themselves. "Although, I must say: I don't remember any Riddle, have your parents taken a leave out of England?"

"My father chose to remain out of our world when I was born," he explained, the grief taking over his features, as if his mother died giving birth to him, which wasn't a lie. "I have lived at the countryside as long as I can remember, father didn't even come today, and he preferred to say his farewells at home. My grandmother had the misfortune of marrying to half-blood at the middle of the last century."

"My sympathies, please, ignore my nephew; he doesn't know the word tact. And you, Miss Donbyre, I'm almost sure I have heard about your parents. They are foreign, aren't them?" the girl, Dorea, asked with a smile.

Anya responded the smile of to the girl, which wasn't forced, as if she was smiling in relief. Sure, she had a lie planned if they really inquired the origin of her parents, but everything sounded more believable if the girl simply assumed. Of course, there weren't any Donbyre overseas, and the Black girl had never heard of any Donbyre – that was only her brain guessing her surname to be foreign, and trying to convince itself that she was talking to a pureblood. It was very common in social talks to guess the origin of someone without knowing – sometimes you were right, sometimes you were wrong.

"Indeed, they live in Austria. But I have spent most of my childhood at Tom's; Mrs. Riddle was my mother's cousin, and mother found that her cousin-in-law and nephew deserved a feminine presence on their lives. But you said you were aunt and nephew?"

"Technically, my grandfather is the brother of her father. She is my cousin-aunt, or second-aunt. But I'm older." Orion explained. "I don't know about other families, but it's quite common at ours. My real uncle is one year older than us."

"I guess it isn't that impossible…Mr. Black?" Tom asked.

"Call me Orion, please; there are too many Blacks in the school. You can call Dora by her name, too, she doesn't care."

"And I will call you Nastya; it's a nickname to your name, isn't it?" Dorea asked her, receiving a nod as response. "What were you reading?" As they showed their books, the girl grinned. "Oh, I love those guides. But I never read yours, Nastya. Is it new?"

"Bathilda Bagshot just launched. It's quite interesting, she is a very promisor authoress, I must say. Most of the Old Ways are already dead and buried, with excuses of its dangers; the culture of Morgana and Merlin thrown in trash. Finally, someone wrote how revolting it is."

"I will have to read. I heard my sister talking that she has just began to research the magic of the late century, I'm quite interested to read about it."

"You will have to wait; I heard Ms. Bagshot has been researching about paganism for over a decade; and that she has an ongoing project about the history of Hogwarts since the first years of this century." Tom commented, with an ease that nobody could ever imagine that he had just some months to learn about the whole wizarding society.

The door opened again and a boy with silver blond hair walked in, followed by a lanky boy with shoulder-length auburn hair. Both of them seemed awfully familiar to her, but she didn't know from where. Maybe her dreams again? She would have to tell Tom.

"Orion, so here is where you have hidden. Your cousins were looking for you. Well, I don't blame you, I would also prefer the company of such a beautiful girl named…" the blond guy bowed to her and Anya could hear Tom growling beside her. She chuckled with mirth at his reaction and answered: "Anastasia Donbyre, oh such handsome knight and hello, unnamed faithful squire."

The auburn boy shook his head in dismay. "I'm Ragnar Lestrange and this flashy chevalier is Abraxas Malfoy, the what, twenty-fourth of his name? Hello again, Orion, Dora."

"It's the twelfth; even I know that, Ragnar." Orion corrected. "Nastya has already presented herself but the handsome man that accompanies her is Tom Riddle. I didn't ask before, but Tom is the short for something?"

"Tom. My father wasn't the best at picking names. Or maybe, it was his revenge; his name wasn't the best either."

"What was his name?" Dorea questioned and Tom snorted. "Also Tom. Now take your hands of Anya, Malfoy, she is eleven. Anya, come here."

The emerald-eyed witch rolled her eyes but moved out of her place to sit beside Tom, her head leaning on the wall and her legs on his lap. When he raised his eyebrows to her behaviour, she just shrugged and answered "Deal with it" making the others snicker.

She wanted to groan. She was pretty sure she would receive a lesson of how rolling her eyes and crude commentaries were unladylike. Tom was getting more and more like an aristocrat every day.

Their ride was quite entertaining. With their compartment full, they talked about books, their families and everything else. It was easy for Tom and Anya to lie, and they were great at doing it. Orion and Ragnar seemed addicted to exploding snap; and Tom took great delight in making Malfoy lose in all his attempts to win a wizard chess game. As the two only girls, Dorea and Anya spend the most of time talking, but they played some chess too. But Dorea preferred Senet, and so they played it two times, and tried a bit of Go with a keyboard an upperclassmen lent them. But neither of them was successful at the second.

As rich purebloods, the boys almost bought the whole candy trolley and shared among them. She secretly loved the licorice wands, and the fact that the only Bertie Bott's Beans she ate was apple flavoured made her day happier – she loved green apple gums. Tom wasn't that lucky with his salmon bean, and neither were Abraxas with sardine. Orion took the best and the worst – coconut, that was said to be great, and vomit; and Dorea only accepted one – bacon. Ragnar took five in one time, and he could only say that it tasted good.

Her chocolate frog almost escaped, but Tom held it for her as she took a bite with a hum. Her card was Queen Maeve, a witch that trained Irish young sorcerers before Hogwarts was created. Seeing Orion's wishful gaze on her card, she offered the thing to him, which he accepted gladly.

When they were almost arriving at Hogwarts, the two girls ushered the young wizards out to change their robes. They walked out between laughs and mock whines, as Dorea made a fuss of pushing her nephew.

Dorea and Abraxas embarked into the same boat of Tom and Anya, while Orion commanded them to keep his cousin away and dragged Ragnar to a boat with other pureblood first-years. The view of the great castle amazed many of the students, and the emerald eyed witch could see the ambitious glint in the eyes of boy who would become the most feared Dark Lord of the modernity as he surveyed the castle and realized that it was to be his home.

[][]

"Avery, Andros!"

Anya watched as boy with a long grey-blond hair tied with a bow in a low ponytail was sorted in Slytherin; making the students with green ties clap. The other students watched the newcomers with an unsettling interest; a girl beside her gave a sigh of relief catching her attention.

"My sister managed to convince me that we would have to fight against a manticore; I know, it was foolish of me." The girl explained. "I'm called Eoessa. Eoessa Law Cadogan. Great, isn't it? Call me Laws, for goodness' sake."

"Anastasia Donbyre. But people have been calling me Nastya since this morning."

"Cool. Look, Professor Dumbledore is calling the 'B's; how many Blacks will be in this year. Euphemia, my sister, said that there are three Blacks in her year in Slytherin. She is a Gryffindor, Euphie; so she doesn't like them very much."

"I think it's just two Blacks this year. Dora and Orion. They are very lively."

Dumbledore shouted her name and the girl flushed, before walking quickly to the stool and sitting. She went to Ravenclaw.

"Who was that?" Tom asked, as he approached her.

"Law Cadogan, as you must know considering that you watched her very carefully as we talked and she was sorted. She has a sister in Gryffindor called Euphemia."

"Not the best to be associated considering that our target is the Slytherins…well, she is in Ravenclaw so it should be ok." She rolled her eyes. "Don't do that, it's unladylike. I still cannot believe that you did that in front of pureblood nobles."

"Dora was shouting and mocking everyone. I rolled my eyes."

"Well, she is the noble, isn't she? Everything she does fits the behaviour of a noble because she is the noble. We cannot afford the luxury of being improper. I just meet some boys that would consider you vulgar by acting how you have been this whole day."

Anya looked in his eyes, disbelief portrayed on her face. "Vulgar, Tom? You talk as if I was some kind of whore. Do you think I'm a prostitute, Tom?"

"Of course no, Anya. And don't call me Tom."

"Donbyre, Anastasia!"

"Well, Dumbledore is calling me. We will talk about it later."

But they never talked. And as she waited on the Slytherin Table beside Dorea, for Tom's sorting, Anya couldn't stop to ask herself when her former enemy had become a constant presence on her life, and why she had accepted him as it.

[][]

A hall full of candles floating over the tables, and hundreds of children speaking loudly while eating. They wore blue, black or furs, and spoke several languages. Everyone seemed excited, and the talk was music to one's eardrums. At the middle of the hall, a goblet of heavy hewn wood, with blue flames up the edges. Names were called from it, and suddenly, hateful glances followed her steps. And from the goblet, dragons flew away accompanied by mermaids, sphinxes and giant crabs. She wasn't in the hall anymore, but in a graveyard, she could almost read the headstone…and a corpse at her feet. Pain and ghosts surrounding her, masked men at the edge of the circle.

The image changed again to a bathroom, and a tunnel, and a statue. And a serpent, and an injury, and a bird, and a hospital… a madman in a hospital, signing photos of himself. And a candy wrapper. A judgment, something about torturing, about a mark, a mark with a skull and a serpent.

They called it dark. Dark Mark.

[][]

Anya woke up sweating in her bed. She had to wake Tom, he would want to know about her dream, since that day Dumbledore had visited the orphanage, and she would always share her dreams with him, even if they seemed meaningless. The fact that seers really did exist, but were very, very rare, seemed to have fascinated Tom. He would always ask for details of her dreams, and he had already given her some books on Divination…none of them seemed to work so far.

But as she reached to wake her roommate up, she remembered that Tom was no longer her roommate, and that they were in Hogwarts. Stretching her body to a grab a notebook on her bedside table, the girl quickly wrote the parts of the dream she recalled, to show him latter. In doing that, she seemed to have caught the attention of her roommates, because soon her dark velvet hangings were pushed open to reveal Dorea's face.

"Good morning, Nastya, rise and shine. You have already enchanted all boys with your beauty; you don't need to do it with your sleepiness."

"Moreover because they would be most likely disgusted." Anya groaned, getting up of the bed, and checking out the time with a Tempus charm. Ten in the morning. Alright, maybe she had got a little tired over the travel, but she would have to rise earlier for class in the next days.

Although they had arrived in Hogwarts on Thursday, they would only have classes at Monday. The first three days were to help them to explore the castle; and although Anya wasn't what you would call adventurous, she was eager to. She chose a light ivory cotton dress with sleeves that reached her elbows and a pair of black boots she had stolen many years ago. She looked to her two roommates and was glad that they didn't seem to wear something very different. Dorea wore a one-piece robe that reached under her knee and the other girl wore a conjunct of a sweater and a skirt that was quite muggle – the short cloak being the wizard aspect. Anya took her own cloak- a simple exemplar of dark wool embroidered in grey dated back the beginning of the century, which reached her ankles.

There were only three girls of her year in Slytherin, and their dorm was rather spacious. The room was made of cold black stone; the ceiling was decorated by rib vaults. The gothic long windows had dark green draped curtains and two stone snakes were wrapped in the columns of the alcoves that held divans of a pale green. Medieval tapestries about the Hunting of the White Stag covered the walls. Anya sat on her ancient four-posted bed with green hangings, watching as her roommates hurried in dressing themselves. She had no idea what was the Hunting of the White Stag when Dorea had commented, but it seemed interesting to research.

Their other roommate, a pink blonde short-haired girl with blue eyes and tanned skin sat in one of the divans. "I'm sorry I didn't present myself to you yesterday; I was too tired." Anya nodded, easy-going. "My name is Brianna Gagwilde."

"Dorea Black. She is Anastasia Donbyre. Are you related to Brian Gagwilde, one of the first headmasters of Hogwarts?"

"Indeed, though I wouldn't be able to say how many generations are between us. Maybe my father can. I won't ask if you are related to someone…the Blacks must be one of the most famous families in the wizarding world. I only have my parents, my little brother and an aunt as family."

"It's had how many magical families are disappearing nowadays, don't you think Nastya?"

Anya gave her a benign smile, and picked her book. "I suppose. I wouldn't know how is to live in a huge family, though. Do you want to come to the common room? Arawn must be pulling out his hair that I still haven't appeared."

"Who is Arawn?" Dorea asked, as they walked out of their rooms.

"Tom."

"Are you and Riddle engaged?" Anya gagged as she heard her question. "What? It's entirely possible. Orion is engaged to my real niece, Walburga. She is a year older than us. Most of my cousins will leave Hogwarts married. Charis will marry Caspar Crouch, and Callidora is engaged to Harfang Longbottom since she was five. Uncle Arcturus is very fast in making engagement arrangements." Dorea told them. "The same cannot be said of father. If it was in his way, I would be an old spinster as Cassiopeia."

"Isn't your sister just twenty-three? Many marry older." Anya pointed out, walking into the common room. She knew who Cassiopeia Black was, she had read in some old journal, in the social column, about her.

"As I said…a spinster. And you, Brianna, do you have a fiancée?"

"We are rather inmates, so there aren't many offers until now. Mother thinks that I attending Hogwarts will help to divulge my dowry…"

"Anya!" A voice called behind her, interrupting the girl. But the witch whose name was called knew very well who was calling her even before Tom came into her view. "Ms. Black, and who would be this beautiful lady?"

"Arawn, this is Brianna Gagwilde. Brianna, this gallant boy here is Tom Riddle."

"Your fiancée! Mr. Riddle, it's a pleasure to meet you." Tom smirked as Brianna called his partner in crime his fiancée. "The pleasure is mine, Ms. Gagwilde. And as much your statement is pleasant to my ears, I fear Anya would kill me if I allowed this delightful misconception to continue."

"Thank you, Arawn. As I already said, we are not engaged." The two others girls looked so dejected at her deny that Anya had to wonder if they would be always talking about romantic relationships – she certainly hoped not, her conversation with Dorea the day before had been much more pleasurable. She didn't hate the subject, and Tom's possessiveness of her was obvious to anyone who stayed in their presence for more than some minutes, so she guessed it was unavoidable – which didn't mean she would welcome it.

"This matter aside, I want you to meet some people, Anya. Are you going to have breakfast? I already had, but we could meet here after that."

"I not very hungry. We can do it now if it's acceptable."

"You should eat. You barely ate yesterday."

"Tom." She said in a meaningful that made obvious they wouldn't be talking about her eating habits.

"If you prefer not doing so…very well, Miss Black and Miss Gagwilde, I'm sorry to say that I will have to steal Anya from you." As soon as the two girls left them alone, Tom took her arm and dragged her out of the Slytherin Dormitory.

"Now, I want to know how your first night was." He requested, guiding her through the passageways.

"Dorea has already fully accepted me; she is the smart aristocrat kind of girl, with a soft spot for books and a bit of a gossiper. Brianna is a social climber, too, of the sweetest kind."

"Great. They wouldn't be the ones I would recommend to be your friends, but I guess they fit their roles."

Anya snorted in amusement. "If everything was in your way, I would have no friends, Arawn. Who would you recommend to me be friends with if not my two fellow female class and housemates? Admit it; you want to keep me for yourself." She teased, her amusement growing even more as Tom made an effort of hiding his embarrassment. He was obviously successful, but she still could imagine a pink flush at the tip of his ears.

They were almost out of the dungeons when he pushed her into a small cupboard and locked the door with a wave of his wand. The witch took her own wand – her old wand – and with a wordless lumos and a muffiato the place was light as day, and silent to everyone who walked near there.

"So?"

"Nothing. They suspect of nothing. As soon as the Blacks believed in us, we became purebloods to the remaining of Slytherin. Have you ever been that good in lying? Well, it doesn't matter. To them, my father is Tom Riddle Senior and my mother's name was Elda. She died giving birth to me, and since then my father became an antisocial man living of his family fortune. There is no reason for him appear in the society. Your parents are even easier, Harisa Donbyre and Sigmund Donbyre. Your family has made a fortune in music – merpeople's choirs and everything else. You have been living with me since you were five, and you don't have many memories of them. You are the spitting image of your mother, but you have your father's eyes. I resemble in nothing my mother."

"You can see that our plan has many flaws, yes? We cannot invent another wizarding name without getting suspicious, and if one of their parents went to Austria, they won't find any Donbyre, or whatever the name we pick to my mother's family name. If they speak of a Riddle to their parents, they will tell them that no Riddle has ever studied here. With four generations of wizards being called Riddle, they are supposed to appear somewhere."

"Recluses. After the whole name getting tainted by a muggle surname, they tried to avoid the wizarding community. My father was home-schooled, as my grandfather also was. My father wanted me to experience what we couldn't, and he had promised to your parents to send you to Hogwarts anyway."

"Really, Arawn? I don't find it very believable."

"It doesn't have to be, we just have to act is if it were. Being ashamed of the surname and everything else." Sometimes Tom really surprised her, this was one of those. Indeed, they had agreed to lie about their identities as nobody powerful in the Wizarding World seemed to held muggleborns in high-esteem; she had thought some lies about the identity of her parents, and Tom had done the same to his…but he had taken the thing to a whole other level. She could write a whole novel to cover their fake-families' past and Tom's skills as an actor would make everything believable.

She wasn't bad either, although she wasn't going to win any Academy Awards for it. She would mostly go with the flow and act as people expected her to act in a certain situation. But Tom? He could write a whole romance with just an expression. It was very freaky, considering that he didn't have many expressions when he wasn't acting. "Seven years, Arawn. Can we sustain this lie for seven years?"

"I know. I need to find out who my mother was soon. I cannot be a mudblood, can I? Or you, by the way."

"I don't know. Have you ever thought that maybe you are looking wrong. An extinct family, it would have to be, or someone would have claimed you. Or maybe with just one or two survivors."

"Your seer abilities are telling you this?" He inquired and she nodded in response. "It's just an impression, but you never know." His eyes shined with something and she could hear the gears moving in his head, archiving that information to a next future. He would search over it, and he would find it.

"This matter aside, even as purebloods, we are nobodies. There seems to be a rather traditional system working inwards our house. We lied about our blood-statuses because we knew that no house would fully-accept us as muggleborns, and we don't know who of our parents had wizarding ancestry so we wouldn't be able to say we are half-bloods. In Slytherin, even then they wouldn't have accepted us so it was for better. Yet, even as purebloods, we won't be more than part of the majorly."

Sincerely, Anya didn't care much about the fact she belonged to the majorly, but she knew it was something disturbing to Tom. She could see his point though – even though he was a genius, he wouldn't receive the awe he deserved so soon. Narcissist to the hell as always. "Speak, Arawn."

"In the outside world, there seems to exist a hierarchy of families. The Noble and Most Ancient Houses occupy the top of it; those are the Blacks, the Lestranges, the Malfoys, the Longbottoms, the Burkes and the Selwyns. Then there are the noble houses; the Macmillians, the Notts, the Greengrasses, the Dolohovs, the Flints, the Ollivanders, the Crouchs, the Slughorns, the Rosiers, the Gaunts, the Zabinis and the Parkinsons. And at the bottom of this aristocracy are the ancient houses: the Potters, the Weasleys, the Prewetts, the Fawleys, the Carrows, the Averys, the Abbots, the Bulstrodes, the Rowles, the Shacklebolts and the Yaxleys. Then there are the common purebloods, like the Cuffes, the Lovegoods, the Princes, the Browns, the Moodys, the Goyles, and many others. To them, we are here." He showed her a list and with some curiosity, she noticed that some names were scratched off, like Peverell. "What's with those?"

"Extinct families. The Peverells are extinct in the male line, according A Wizard Genealogy, but nobody knows who the descents from them. The last Max died fifty years ago; her name was Ella Black, née Max. The same happened to Magenta Trippe, the last of her name, who also married into the Blacks. Apparently, they like to collect fortunes of other's families. Back to what I was saying, after the purebloods, are the half-bloods and the half-breeds, and then the mudbloods. After that, comes the squib, and after them, muggles."

"A pretty harsh system, similar to the castes in India, I would say. Thank you for the overview; 'half-breed' is a pretty prejudiced term to mixed heritage, isn't it? Don't you feel a bit weird using it and 'mudblood'?"

"I'm a pureblood; I'm supposed to call them like this, Anya." Tom cut her quickly. She knew he was getting a little angry, as that was the second time she interrupted him. Oh, he was too much of a hothead, she supposed. But he was eleven years old, what did she expect? "Now, in Slytherin. The upperclassmen seem to rule over their juniors, which I quite expected. Slughorn has some favourites, and has a club to them – the Slug Club. Extremely useful, and the same could be said of the Quidditch Team, but that it's something to think about in the next year…for now we just have to excel in potions."

Anya rolled her eyes. "I know what I have to do, Arawn. Charm everyone – it isn't something I have never done."

"No. I want you to lay low. You can do well in classes, of course, but this is a heavy system and our house head doesn't care much about anyone else except his favourites. So become one of them and accompany me to the meetings, but don't pick fights. I will take care of everything. And don't you dare to be headstrong."

Anya shut the mouth she had just opened and nodded nonchalantly, knowing that he wouldn't hear her arguments. It was a bit hypocritical of him to call her headstrong and a fight-picker, when he did a lot of times more than her. "Swear to me." He requested.

"I swear."

He appeared to be satisfied by that. "Now, did you have any dreams this night?"

She took the notebook she had pushed into her pockets before leaving her room. "I wrote it as you weren't near. Give it again to me at dinner so that I can write any other dream I have. This can be my Dream Journal, like Freud's."

"Here you are again. I won't read analysis of your sexuality, Anya."

"That's not it, Arawn!" She protested. "I just wrote what I dreamt. If you want to know my day-dreams, give it before dinner."

"That you share easily. Fine, if you can share that, share where you will be this afternoon." He demanded.

"Exploring the castle. Away from society; as you want to me to be. You will be at the common room small-talking and charming everyone, won't you?" She didn't wait for the response; she knew it would be 'yes'. As she walked away, she counted on her mind for the moment Tom would reach her and grab her arm, telling her to walk with him.

It took him seven seconds. She smirked, so predictable. That was the reason she knew she wouldn't have any problems walking around the houses without his knowledge. Anya knew his steps, she only had to walk in his shadow and charm everyone he forgot to do.

Easy.

Yup, I'm asking for reviews again.