"Oh, Merlin, did you hear?"

"I'm not Merlin," her friend giggled stupidly. "But I did hear. Can't believe he did that, why would he try out in the first place?"

"Huh? What are you two talking about?" asked another girl, confused.

"Tom Riddle actually tried out, and Abraxas made him seeker on the spot! Just like what happened to Ginny Granger."

"That's wicked! Though, I bet he cheated." I gritted my teeth. Stupid third years.

"But he turned it down," the other added. "He said he'd changed his mind."

"Why would anyone do that?"

Why would anyone do that, I thought bitterly, if it meant I had to avoid a long, long list of people by reading in a broom closet and being forced to listen to a bunch of third years gossip.

I had done exceptionally well – the try outs rules changed this year; the team's captain would have to assess which sort of player the victor progressed to.

I had qualified for Chaser and Beater level – and due to democratic expectations, Abraxas, the Slytherin Quidditch captain and seeker, was forced to compete with me for the Seeker position. It was a weird system, and more than a little unfair to Abraxas as the captain's position was supposed to be permanent.

We had both spotted the snitch at the same time, but I caught it in the end.

Barely, though. The chase had been a blur. All I remembered was having to trail after the snitch on a frighteningly fragile and old model of a broomstick, with him dangerously close to bucking me out of the pitch, and I'd felt a rush, the extra rush – muggles called it adrenaline – and caught the bloody thing.

But I remembered what happened before and after the chase with astounding clarity.

To say that people were shocked when I announced that I wanted to try out, would be a magnificent and actually quite stupidly made understatement.

Abraxas gaped at me, laughed hard, then gaped, then grinned and asked me if I was serious. Then grinned again.

Granger looked worried, and was a bit snappish (though it wasn't very noticeable. That's Granger for you). This angered me, and I was going to ask (yell) what her problem was, until the flame child interrupted and shook my hand for good luck. Malfoy, on seeing this, stubbornly insisted on inspecting my limbs for traces of a curse or an after-hex.

Cassandra hugged me, and before I could let the Merlin-Is-Alive wonderful feeling sink in, she proceeded to fling her arms around Mucus – sorry, Marcus' neck no less than six seconds later. I had to resist puking then and there.

(This doesn't mean I puked somewhere else.)

(Though, there was this one time when Dumbledore – never mind.)

Avery enthusiastically wished me good luck – and, well, being Avery, dampened the moment by telling me I'd need it the most, because apparently dealing with the humiliation of losing in the try outs was far worse than facing the Cruciatus curse.

Glad to know at least someone is responding normally.

At first, none of the other houses wanted to turn up for the try outs of Slytherin, but when news sprung up that I was trying out, the pitch was awfully crowded.

Technically, this wasn't supposed to be allowed, but Dumbledore (a.k.a the guy who hates Riddle and would never dream of supporting a procedure which brought Riddle attention) himself was present. Even Slughorn, who liked hearing news through prefects because it made him feel important and enigmatic, was seated at an almost invisible corner of the pitch.

I felt a bit a bit sick, but then Cassandra smiled at me. Next to her sat the Ravenclaw, pensive but raising an eyebrow challengingly, and looked a bit put off that Cassandra was paying attention to me.

I suppose I must have disappointed a considerable number of people( basically everyone except Slughorn and Bolarden) by beating away every ball, passing the chaser's level, qualifying the next level and going Seekerish and catching the snitch.

Aver didn't look horrified, but shocked. His eyes gleamed with something I recognized: a shot at power.

Flint just picked his nose.

Cassandra stood up and clapped, pissing off her male companion and simultaneously probing the others to follow, for me.

Dumbledore just stared, his eyes twinkling with amusement ( at least, I think it was amusement) and Slughorn wore a smug, as-I-predicted look.

And Abraxas…well, Malfoy looked wrong.

For a brief few seconds, I focused on him, the rest of the world a blur. His smile was too tight and didn't reach his eyes, and though he seemed glad, there was self disappointment and a hint of something else.

And then, I realised, he was crestfallen. I was going to replace him, and he was in the process of accepting the fact. And it was hurting him.

At first, I was annoyed.

I deserved the post. I won fair and square. He had only family expectations to meet, while I had a whole world to please, because more people hated me. And was he a friend, really? An ally, of course, but someone to care about? Right then, I was in doubt.

I looked at Cassandra. She smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. At least someone here was fully and genuinely happy for me.

That helped me make up my mind immediately. I was going to accept the post.

But then I looked at Granger.

Now, don't get me wrong. It wasn't exactly a friendly/romantic moment. I was still angry that for some unfathomable reason, she hadn't even wanted me to try out in the first place. And she currently looked like her pet snake had died, so I wasn't awed by her beauty or something. But it got me thinking: if I accepted the post, it implied automatic popularity, instant gain of power. But how much did I need the post?

I tried out to impress Cassandra – as crude and immature as that sounds. And as tempting as the popularity was, it wasn't the right way to earn support for my cause. Only people who truly respected my cause and actually saw me for me, despite my flaws and talents, could be relied upon. But would anyone actually care? Would they just go along because I was made Seeker?

This wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was shallow to use respect like that, but I just needed a little support to project my plans later on. But you know how nice-nice people reminded you of how few friends you have? That was what I felt then, looking at Granger. She'd be effortlessly genuine, but it would sting more.

Friends stood by each other, stood through all your boring lectures, stood through all the crap people gave you, defended your back, and would accept the fact you were going to displace their importance in the Quidditch team, no matter how much it stung.

Abraxas wasn't just my ally, he was my friend.

If I accepted the post, Malfoy wouldn't hate me – he would never stoop that low – but things wouldn't be quite the same. I'd be showered with unnecessary attention, and turn into one of those shallow, piggish Quidditch players who are bitter at their previous lack of popularity – but Abraxas had a father to please. A monstrous father, and I'd have called it sucking up were the circumstances different, but his father really was a dangerous man – and easy to disappoint.

Besides, I wasn't immune to popularity like Malfoy was. Who knew how it would affect my goals? And surely I didn't want a girl like Cassandra to like me solely based on my reputation.

I looked him in the eye, and said, "I decline."

The whole pitch was buzzing. Slughorn was peering at me, intense and shocked.

Funnily enough, Abraxas was the first to protest. "You've got natural talent. Our team would win." He then leaned forward and whispered, "You need to make more friends, Tom."

"Not superficial ones," I said quietly, and then loudly announced that I changed my mind.

The volume was slowly rising. Avery just raised his eyebrows – surprisingly enough, he and Dumbledore were the only calm ones. Granger gaped at me, then closed her mouth and resorted to looking at me with fierce focus. Flint and Cassandra looked horrified, while Marcus looked mightily bewildered. Weasely stared, delighted and amused, while Brown looked at me with wide eyes, and a small smile was beginning to form on her lips.

Slughorn, who was actually not supposed to get involved or be here, raised his voice.

"Quiet, now!" he said sternly. "I know it's shocking that Tom Riddle declined the post of seeker, but there is no need for such an uproar. I think, it is in fact a decision to appreciate and respect – I am sure he simply does not want to deviate from his academic interest."

You'd think people would snort at that, but they fully believed it. That's all they knew about me – my academic interest.

Abraxas snorted, though.

At dinner, the whole table screamed at me the minute I sat down.

"The Slytherin team has a better chance of winning if you were on the team." – Abraxas

"You're so stupid!" – Flint (seriously, though, look who's talking.)

"I'm sad you said no, but I respect your decision." – Cassandra

"How did you wash your hair? It looks quite nice." – Random blonde I've never seen before

I was fed up (pun not intended), and after five swift bites of potato, I left the hall.

I had to dodge/avoid/run away from people the whole week. Of course, knowing how rotten my luck is, I ran into Ginger and Bru.

The redhead opened her mouth. I braced myself for the frequently asked question (why da heck didcha says no'z?) but instead, she said snootily, "Bet you were just scared I was going to beat you arse in the first game."

Malfoy and Granger's light attitude obviously had an impact on me, because I instantly recognized this as a joke. I sighed, pretending to be dejected. "So you've discovered the real reason," I said solemnly. "Pity, I tried so very hard to keep it a secret."

They both grinned at me. The younger said, "Alright, then, I'll just leave you two to talk about Potions or whatever Quidditch hating pansies talk about." Our glares were instantaneous, but she simply smirked, and headed for her class.

"Do you regret it?" Granger finally asked me. Of course she'd be the first to present me with the right question.

"At first, the regret was so bitter, I just wanted to crawl into the library and stay there for the rest of the week," I admitted. "But then I looked at Abraxas, and realised that although most of his expression screamed disappointment at my decline, a small part of him also looked relieved. He'd never admit it, but he didn't have to."

She seemed surprised. "You did it for him?" I clenched my jaw, but she quickly corrected herself. "I'm not judging your friendship. But not many people give up the seeker's post for their friends."

I nodded, sort of relieved she wasn't judging me, at least for a moment. "It stung, but I knew I'd done the right thing." Pause. "Whatever that means."

She laughed. "Why did you look at me, though? Before you announced your decision, I mean."

Damn. I was hoping she wouldn't bring that up.

"I guess I just needed a source for second thoughts," I replied after deeply thinking about it.

"Huh?"

Well, there goes my deep thinking.

"I was going to say yes," I said, almost hesitantly. "But then I looked at you, and realised that I wasn't going to meet a lot of nice people, and if I disrupted the somewhat friendship with Abraxas, the only nice person around would be you – and sorry, but that doesn't account for much, because you're nice to everybody." She blushed at the compliment, and it took a lot of self restraint to keep out my own embarrassment from my face.

"Doesn't make too much sense, especially since Abraxas isn't the type to drop his friends for a post," she said carefully, "But are you implying that had you not looked at my face, you wouldn't have had second thoughts in the first place?"

I nodded, seeing no point in denying it. She looked at the ground for a while, then raised her head and asked if she could walk with me to class.

LEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEF TYLEFTYLEFTYLEFTY

The most wonderful thing about Hogwarts was that news got old, fast. After about two weeks, I sat down at the table, expecting more glares and death threats and whining about letting our house down, but I was instead greeted with silence.

Apart from the fact that Malfoy decided to seat himself in the other corner of the table and refused to speak to me, things were perfectly normal.

"Join our club," Avery threw at me casually.

Okay, maybe not.

"And don't even think of pretending that you don't know what I'm talking about." Granger was right. He was smarter than he let on.

"Alright, then. Let me try a different approach. How about, "I'm a fucking half blood?""

Granger turned an interesting shade of grey green, and the others stared open mouthed, stunned at the fact I could use profanity.

I couldn't help but have been a bit biting about it. Why would Avery even suggest this? Was it my turn to get a dose of revenge from him?

And then it struck me.

I was capable of acquiring power – the try outs showed that much. I was also holding an impressive reputation for being intelligent. Avery either wanted to misuse this and destroy whatever goals I had, or wanted to gain more influence in a subtle fashion. Both ways lead to one thing: I would be used and cast aside.

Well, I could take up the challenge. I wanted to see him try. But first, I needed details. "And what do I gain from betraying my origin?"

Granger sent me a look that could was easily assumed to mean, "I do wonder why he'd ask that," but was actually code for, "What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Oh, great. Now I could speak Granger. I can finally rest in peace.

(Sarcasm.)

(Sorry, I couldn't help that bit of patronizing. I've been meeting a lot of stupid people lately.)

"More spells, more knowledge," Avery said pleasantly. "We're not just stupidly trying to suppress mudbloods, we're trying to cleverly show them we're better than them."

"But I'm a-"

"One of your parents was a pureblood. That is all that matters." He looked into my eyes confidently – another smart move that surprised me. "An endless supply of books, funding for any feat you wish to perform, any new potion or spell you wish to investigate."

I couldn't get over how quick minded and intelligent Avery was turning out to be. Most Slytherins had either ambition or cunning – Avery had both, though I had previously assumed he'd have been the last person to be gifted with the combination.

Technically, I could refrain from personally harming muggleborns. I felt an unsettling wave of hypocrisy, but I tackled it by convincing myself that I'd eventually rise up as their leader – use their resources, break the group, and later start my own, for a whole different cause.

I was certain I could hold back from the maniacal instinct. I wasn't a social swan, but I could be.

I was a Slytherin.

I was going to agree, but Granger interrupted the process. "Excuse me."

She stepped out and revealed to me only a flicker of regard, but I instantly got the message.

"I must go as well," I said smoothly, getting out of my seat to follow her.

Avery narrowed his eyes, and looked like he wanted to ask why I'd follow a young lady who wanted a moment to herself, but instead he coldly told me he hoped I'd have a reply when I came back.

"I'm going to accept, Granger," I said quickly, once we were out of hearing distance.

It was clear she was controlling her temper. "Why?"

"The offers he makes are tempting, and quite reasonable."

"And you're surely not stupid enough to believe he'll not cheat you and trample all over your goals."

"I'm capable of harming him just as much, actually," I said coolly, "And even more."

"I don't doubt that. I can't change your mind again, can I?" I shook my head.

She sighed. "You do know that I won't stop bugging you about how he progresses, right? I hope I've made it clear that I don't appreciate prejudice."

"Very clear," I drawled. "Can't spill everything, but maybe there's something I could do to shut you up."

I really, really, really regretted saying that the minute I blurted it. Why was I being so impulsive? She didn't mean much, and though the thought of making an enemy out of the person everyone liked wasn't very pleasant, it wasn't exactly new to me. I was giving her power.

She took advantage of my words. "Try out spells with me. Every morning. Or whenever we can."

I thought it was a reasonable deal, and not much to care for, but I paused to contemplate about it. Abraxas couldn't possibly object, especially since he wanted to figure her out, and besides, the way things seemed, he wouldn't talk to me for a few days. She could learn a great deal about me, but as long as I played it safe… "Fine."

She nodded briskly, and went back to the Hall. Obviously, Avery had seen us interact.

"I'm in," I said calmly. His surprise stayed on his face for a while. Then he attempted a grin – an okay, - so-we're-alleys-now grin. Evidently, they hadn't expected me to agree, assuming Granger had warned me against accepting.

It was time people realised that I alone, was in charge of my life. Being an orphan had its advantages, as did most fates in life.

A/N: Just out of curiosity, is the name of the girl that Abraxas marries mentioned in any of the books? Oh, and do review. I appreciate in depth criticism.