Mirrors and Shadows

By Angelis Raye

Basis: Tom Riddle, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts, takes an interest in the eight-year old Harry when he sees how set apart the boy is from the others, despite efforts to fit in at the orphanage he's in. (See Chapter one for the full version.)

Chapter 3: As Summer Fades into Fall

The gray cat darted across the room with Harry right behind it, a wide grin spread across his face. "Ink!!" he called, laughing, vainly trying to catch the elusive creature.

"Harry?" Tom asked, coming into the room with a small folder of papers. Watching the two playing, the professor smiled, then bent down and swiftly caught the little kitten. "Aha! I have you now," he declared as Ink tried to wiggle out of his hands, but failing to escape from Tom's secure grip on him.

"Hi, Tom," Harry greeted, a shy smile playing across his face, standing in front of the man, looking up, expectantly.

"Well, it doesn't seem that the two of you have demolished the place in my absence," he assessed, grinning back at his adopted son. "I have some good news for you, Harry," Tom told the boy, watching as a real smile began to unfold on his small, red lips.

Speechless, Harry rushed the man, nearly knocking him over with the force of it, squeezing Tom's middle as tightly as he could to express his gratitude.

"Now, this means that you won't be spending much time playing or anything anymore – you'll have to do homework and study," Tom forewarned, very serious about the whole thing, treating as it should be treated, especially with such a young boy.

Harry nodded, his expression showing more emotion that words could at the moment. And for this, Tom knew that what he did was the right thing, for all that he could foresee.

"Today, we're going to go get your school supplies," Tom announced, giving the small boy a letter that he normally would have received after his eleventh birthday. "You're going to have to promise me, though, that you won't use your wand outside of class and practicing in front of me or another teacher. Promise?"

Grinning, Harry shook Tom's outstretched hand eagerly. "I promise," he replied in response to the question posed to him. "And I'm ready to go, Tom."

"Indeed, you are. Well, let me get my bag and we'll be going."

--

A handful of hours later, Tom and his small foster son returned to Hogwarts, exhausted but feeling accomplished.

"I cannot believe how long the lines were just to get the books," Tom groaned, hanging his head, shaking it as he was reminiscing about how long the both of them waited in countless lines for books, a wand, robes, and potions supplies. "We're never going this late again. Even if I have to get your school letter for what books and things you'll need early from Dumbledore, we're never going this close to the beginning of term again…."

Very worn-out but still excited, Harry hugged Tom once more. "Thank you," he whispered, grinning tiredly.

"You're welcome, Harry," the elder man responded, returning the hug whole-heartedly, grinning back. "Time for be, though, eh?"

Harry agreed with a small, "Yeah," his eyelids drooping and threatening to close up shop for the night.

"And tomorrow, I'll teach you some more basics that you'll need to know for the beginning of your school year."

What a day tomorrow would be, Tom thought with a certain amount of dread.

--

Forcing his eyes to open, Tom got up the next morning still drowsy, scowling and glaring daggers at his little magical alarm clock, wishing he could just ignore the call to the living and continue drifting in sleep the rest of the day. He was definitely not used to taking care of such a child that had so much more energy than he did. Granted, he had taken care of Harry the whole summer but it just wasn't the same when faced with going to Diagon Alley to get school supplies during one of the busiest times of the year (outside of Christmas, of course) in Wizarding London.

With quite a number of things to do that day (and many of the following days) teaching Harry all that he needed to know not to make a fool of himself in Slytherin, which was likely to be the house that the boy was going to be sorted into, based on his assessments of Harry's attitude. It would be rather sad if the boy really ended up in Hufflepuff. And then there would really be little hope for Harry, then, when it came to peer pressure and the lot.

"It's now or never," he told himself, commanding himself to drag himself out of bed and get to work to make the deadline of the start of school in just a week and a half.

--

Today was the day that Harry'd been waiting for. It seemed like it'd been years, even though it had merely been a week and a half. He'd stayed up with Tom to study some important basics about Wizarding culture, some basic spells that he might need, and learned a good deal about the history of the castle he and Tom were living in during the school year.

He'd been impressed that the school (Harry didn't really like calling it that, with the connotation that went along with it, but what else was there to call Hogwarts?) had been founded almost one-thousand years ago by four very different people. Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw were the four Founders of Hogwarts, the respective Houses in the Wizarding school named after each of the Founders. And each of the students attending Hogwarts was to be sorted into one of the four Houses, which was determined by the Sorting Hat (that was once the possession of Gryffindor). The Sorting Hat was an enchanted hat that was designed to place each student into the most appropriate House, highly dependant on the personality of the individual being sorted.

At first, the thought of all of it overwhelmed Harry, but after thinking it over for a bit, Harry managed to understand what would happen on the first night of school. Which was tonight, believe it or not.

His heart was pounding in his chest as Tom dropped him off at the platform, straightening his collared shirt, nit-picking, really.

"Tom," he mumbled, blushing, embarrassed that Tom, the man who most people would least expect to be fussy about a child's appearance, was stooping (almost in half) down to fix Harry's hair, getting it just perfect. The trick was to use a charm that he'd learned from a beauty book of Minerva's when he was attending Hogwarts, himself. Previously thought to be an unmanageable mop of hair, Harry had practically cheered when Tom taught him the simple little charm to make his hair lie flat on his head.

"Yes, yes, I'll leave you be, then, son," Tom relented, chuckling as he took in the image of the boy standing in front of the brilliant red train, looking so flustered as any normal child did. "I'll see you in a few hours – do try to make a few friends, hmn?"

"Tom," he whined, pouting slightly.

"Right, I'll stop worrying," the professor retorted, quirking a smirk, quickly embracing his foster son, then letting him go. "Well, off with you, then!"

"Thanks," Harry told him, smiling back, nodding. And with that, he turned and got on the train with his trunk – which was issuing its final boarding call -- finding a cabin quickly, leaning out a window to wave to Tom as the train started to roll off towards Hogwarts.

He really hadn't wanted to get on the blasted train to begin with, but Tom had convinced him that he didn't want to stand out by not being on the train, just showing up at the feast when the sorting would take place. Tom's reasoning, outside of that rather important point, was that this would be a way for Harry to make some friends before Houses were determined and prejudices were set in stone by the culture in each House at Hogwarts.

After shoving his half-empty trunk into its proper place in the cabin, Harry got settled down, praying that no one would come and sit -- Spoke too early, didn't I? he bemoaned as the door slid open and a taller, thin boy with dark brown hair came in and sat across from Harry.

"Adrian Pucey," the newcomer introduced himself as after a heavy silence once he got his trunk and his person settled in the compartment, extending a hand towards Harry.

"Harry Riddle," Harry replied, a bit awkwardly, hopefully loud enough, but not too loud, like he practiced with Tom, shaking the other boy's hand. "It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine. Riddle, huh?" the Pucey boy questioned, peering at Harry, very interested in the smaller boy. "I didn't know that the Professor had a child – certainly not your age."

"Oh, well, he adopted me over the summer," he admitted, doing his best not to show any embarrassment or shyness. "I'm a first year."

Adrian didn't comment on how much younger Harry looked compared to him, but instead, continued on in the same vain: "So am I. I've heard from my older brother that Professor Riddle's an excellent teacher and the Head of Slytherin and Deputy Headmaster – quite impressive, if you ask me."

Harry had forgotten about that part – Tom didn't really talk all that much of his duties as either, tending to focus more on his teaching than anything else, at least, around him. "He was the top of his class in Slytherin, too," Harry added, smiling, a feeling of pride welling up in him with how well he remembered everything that Tom had told him to say in certain circumstances.

"Yeah," Adrian agreed, nodding his head slightly, and then looked out the window, quickly lapsing into silence.

Reading one of the books that Tom had given him for his birthday (one on the different kinds of magic and how it was used in ancient times), allowing the silence to continue to grow and separate him from his companion, Harry keep to himself for most of the ride to Hogwarts. He was very thankful that the other boy wasn't a chatty sort of person.

"So, I take it you're going to be in Slytherin, like Professor Riddle?" the other boy asked, suddenly, still looking out the window, entranced by the falling rain that swept up against the glass pane of the train as they went.

"Most likely," Harry replied, marking his place in his book to gaze at the older boy sitting across from him. "What House do you think you'll be in?"

"The same – my whole family was in Slytherin, so it's not as if there's much of anywhere else I could go," he told Harry, again letting the conversation drift off into silence for a while. Then, "If I got sorted anywhere other than Slytheirn, it would be likely that my parents would kill me – or worse, disinherit me."

"I'm sure that you'll get into Slytherin," Harry reassured, not exactly sure how to respond to that sort of declaration that his new 'friend' had sprung on him.

"Oh, I suppose I will…"

Following the short bit of conversation, the two decided it was time to change into their school robes and sat in their compartment, passing the rest of the time in silence.

--

After getting out of those horrid boats and being welcomed into the castle by no one other than Tom, himself, Harry stood in line with the other first years, waiting to be called by his foster father.

Bradley had been declared as a "Ravenclaw!" along with Chambers and Davies, while Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan became Gryffindors, and Diggory was sorted into Hufflepuff, all with a roar of applause to welcome them. There was only one boy that had been sorted into Slytherin before Harry's name was called and he was feeling quite a bit nervous – how was he going to be sorted? Was the hat being more biased towards Gryffindors and Ravenclaws this year?

Stepping forward, swallowing any doubts that he had before then, Harry became confident in himself, climbing onto the stool, and the hat was dropped onto his head by the caring Deputy Headmaster…

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Potter – oh, I apologize – Mr. Riddle," a voice seemed to whisper in his ear. Nothing to be afraid of, he knew, but it was an odd feeling. "I see you're very happy with Tom Riddle and enjoy your studies, but I know that Ravenclaw would be a mistake, as you're not driven solely by your thirst for knowledge. However, unlike both of your parents, Gryffindor won't suit you in the slightest. Now, Hufflepuff, on the other hand…"

"Please not Hufflepuff!" he bemoaned, mentally, afraid of the ridicule that would come if he was sorted into the house of the "loyal" and "trustworthy".

"There's no need to stress, dear boy, the students in Hufflepuff wouldn't quite understand you like those in SLYTHERIN!" Of course, only the last part was heard by all, and as Harry pulled the hat off of his head, finally able to see and hear the Great Hall of Hogwarts once more, he was surprised to see Tom winking at him, applauding him as well, with the rest of the Slytherin table, eagerly accepting him. For once, he was happy to be at school, as shocking as that sounded to Harry, even coming from himself.

And so, he took a seat at the bench under the banner of the House of Snakes, clapping for Adrian Pucey as he, too, was sorted into Slytherin, coming to sit down next to Harry.

Harry supposed that, for once, it wouldn't hurt to be friends with someone.

To be continued...

--

As you can see, my dear readers, I've decided to take a leap and put Harry into school two years earlier. Mostly because of my ulterior motives on sorting Harry into Slytherin, as opposed to Ravenclaw (which would be more likely if he'd been forced to wait one or two years, as he'd be more influenced by learning than wanting to learn so he can become powerful, etc.).

Questions, comments, reviews, or whatever (as long as it's relevant) are always welcomed and will be responded to as soon as humanly possible.

Thanks goes to my friend, Katy, for some awesome inspiration while awaiting Terminator Salvation on opening night.