If this was the better end of the broom, he was well and truly buggered. Dumbledore sat across from him stroking his ridiculous beard. The man had gained the post of headmaster and his bias against certain students was still all to clear.
"I see no benefit to placing you back in Slytherin. Your knowledge of their grandparents won't serve you there, and the tolerance for half bloods has actually diminished." Dumbledore sighed. "There is another option for you. At the moment, we have a rogue house, for want of a better term. The castle stops all attempts to reintegrate the students. It is a quandary."
"A rogue house, sir?" Tom leaned forward. This was interesting. Hogwarts didn't accept change easily, and the castle's defense of it was remarkable.
"The Ouroboros are headed by Miss Granger. She's not to be trifled with. Many have made that mistake. She is the first muggleborn sorted into Slytherin, top of her class academically, dueling champion since her first year. Your house refused her on her very first night." Dumbledore frowned. "Professor Sinistra, your current head of house, thought it best to provide her with her own chambers. It grew from there."
"So, send me to my new room." Tom smiled. "I will not make waves with Miss Granger."
"It isn't that easy." Dumbledore plucked a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk. "I can not assign you a spot in their rooms and the hat can not sort you there. You must meet with the group and be accepted. If she will not take you, I will contact other schools and find you a place."
Tom bit back the growl that rose in his throat. This was some sort of test. Dumbledore had always hated him, and, now, the old goat had a way to humiliate him. The headmaster wanted him gone and was using some capricious and horrible little girl as his agent.
"When will I meet with this girl and her house mates?" Tom forced a nervous smile to his lips.
"They are in herbology at the moment. They refuse to leave a class in session. Most commendable, really." Dumbledore nodded, but the glint of anger in his eyes was very evident. "They will arrive after class."
"May I have a recent history text?" Tom glanced down at his hands and rolled his shoulders forward slightly. He needed to look overwhelmed to Dumbledore's keen eyes. "Everything is so different."
"I'm afraid I don't have any history books here in my office." Dumbledore smiled, but I do have a book of muggle poetry you might find edifying."
"Thank you, sir." Tom nodded his head and accepted the book of poetry about life from a dog's perspective. How very doll. It wouldn't do to roll his eyes.
He opened the book and pretended to read. Anything was better than having to converse with the headmaster. He let his eyes pick over the words. The occasional phrase would grab him, but none of it truly mattered. The noise of an approaching group of people came as a relief.
He glanced toward Dumbledore and caught the flash of irritation in the old man's countenance. The girl and her little band of rebels obviously annoyed him. Perhaps, there was some advantage to be found in joining this group.
"Come in, Miss Granger." Dumbledore glared at the door. "I summoned you, after all. Bring in your compatriots."
"Have you reconsidered our request?" Her voice was clear and her words clipped. Tom took a deep breath and refused to turn and examine her.
"You know I have not, nor will I." Dumbledore stood and flattened his hand on his desk top. "The castle may make allowances for you, but, in good conscience, I can not. No, I summoned you here to meet a student in need of some assistance."
"He seems to think my place is in your house." Tom stood and turned toward the newcomers. At first glance, they were an odd group. Two boys beginning to sprout into manhood. One dreamy eyes blonde and a girl with more affection for her cat than her cloak formed a semicircle behind the girl that must be Miss Granger.
Tom took a deep breath. Some base part of him flared to life. He'd never felt this before. Others were weak. He'd used their attraction to him from time to time, but he had never felt it. Objectively, she was modestly attractive with her creamy skin and her untamed hair. Her features were even and symmetrical. There were greater beauties, but this thing inside him wanted her. He dragged another breath into his lungs and clenched a fist against his leg. This was not the time to give in to baser urges.
"You can't sort people into our house." Miss Granger narrowed her eyes and focused her gaze on the headmaster.
"I will find a portrait to protect your dormitory, but you must accept Mr. Riddle into your group." Dumbledore put on his kindly indulgent face.
"No." Tom held his unclenched hand up. "I won't be forced on them. It's hard enough knowing most of my friends have grandchildren here. I will not go where I am not wanted."
He saw her eyes as they did a swift inventory of him. She controlled her responses with ease. It wasn't hard to believe she was a dueling champion.
"So, you're Sluggy's lost boy?" She ignored Dumbledore's censuring gasp. "You were a Slytherin prefect. Why not rejoin your old house?"
"I will not have that house dropped into chaos again." Dumbledore slapped his hand on his desk. "Your prank with the long lasting veritaserum had them at each other's throats for weeks."
"I didn't do it." Miss Granger shook her head and set her curls to bouncing. "I wish I had."
Tom took in her body language and examined her for any tells. There was no flush in her cheeks, no change in her eyes. She gave away nothing, but he was quite sure she had been behind the prank. He brushed against her mind expecting to read her surface thoughts, but he found only a cool darkness.
You should ask.
It was her voice in his head.
Nope. It's you reading my thoughts in my head. I'm good at occluding, but you should ask before you invade someone's privacy.
He swallowed and nodded. The urge to apologize was new.
You aren't used to being wrong, or you aren't used to caring if you are.
She sounded smug.
This is fun. Dumbledore doesn't like either of us.
He had to agree with that assessment.
How dangerous are you?
There was no good way to respond to that query.
We're a package deal. You can't play games in our house, and if you harm one of us I will make you suffer.
Why on earth did her threats seem so appealing?
"What do you think, Luna?" Miss Granger asked the blonde. "Is he one of us?"
"Not yet." The blonde focused her wide blue eyes on him. "He needs us though."
"Any objections?" Miss Granger looked to each of her fellows, but no one offered dissent.
"He needs a new uniform and books." Miss Granger turned to face Dumbledore. "We will need passes for Hogsmeade to get him kitted out with everything else."
Tom watched as she organized his assimilation into her group with astonished amusement. Dumbledore had agreed to her demands without much fuss. The girl was a force of nature. In a matter of minutes, they were walking away with six passes clenched in her hand and the promise of a selection of willing portraits for the group to interview. It seemed they wanted a good fit.
"Learn quickly, Tom." The blonde rested her fingers against his arm. He repressed the urge to brush away the contact. "Hermione doesn't hunt small game."