The Thing About Fate
AN:
Oni: Okay so not entirely happy with the chapter but oh well. Hopefully the next one will be better.
Tom: Oni does not own Harry Potter.
Oni: Aaaaand ONWARDS!
So we return to the story! And behold! Tom Riddle had indeed made a friend! A magical one at that. Perhaps this time he'll be able to keep that friend, unlike his previous attempts. But enough of that. Today I wished to talk about Fate. Yes, Fate, the very basis of the world that this story resides in. Other than magic, of course.
Fate, despite people's best attempts, has always been a rather fickle thing. Much like magic, Fate chooses favorites, and unlike magic, her favorites aren't always better off with such favoritism. In fact, most of Fate's favorites tend to get the short end of the stick in most cases. Tragic backstories, enemies constantly trying to kill them over a relative interval... just ask Harry Potter. As one of Fate's favorites, he'll give you a full rundown on what happens if one is so chosen by the fickle abstract concept.
Such is the life of being a Chosen One. But hey, the takeaway is that the plot armor is generally amazing. No matter how insane the circumstance, you just won't bloody die. You could be stabbed with a cursed sword, or a Basilisk Fang, possessed by a manic Dark Lord, or even flat out Avada Kedavra'd and you'll still be running off unscathed enough to fight again in an obscenely short amount of time. It doesn't make up for losing your godfather, your owl, or your favorite house elf, but sometimes you have to look on the bright side of being Fate's plaything.
Of course, such things also apply to the other end of Fate'd chosen Ones. Sometimes they're just not the good guys. Sometimes it's the bad guys that don't ruddy die when they should. Only the heroic Chosen One has the capability to kill the immensely powerful and knowledgeable villain, despite that Chosen One usually being a child on the cusp of adulthood and there being enough mentors to have defeated the evil git's at least twice over. But of course that would ruin any bloody plot Fate had planned so the Dark Lord can't die until the hero kills them.
You could theoretically throw a monkey wrench into the system by making a prospective Dark Lord into a not-so-evil individual and supposedly that would still allow for their insane survivability to be intact. Though why anyone would want to attempt that route is beyond me. One must have a fanatic dedication to making the villain a relatively good person and a love for crackish works of fiction to make that work.
But again, I digressed. What do you need to hear my ramblings for? So let us return to see what our resident not-a-Dark-Lord child is doing now, shall we?
"Oi when did the toad get here?"
Filius looked at Tom, who was holding onto the struggling amphibian with a comically raised eyebrow. They didn't need to question the odd arrival of the slimy creature, though, as the door to their compartment opened to reveal a girl with her brunette hair in a tight braid.
"Has any of yeh seen a toad?" the girl asked in what was undoubtedly a thick Scottish accent, "Pomona's lost... ah there! Pom! Aye think we found yehr toad!"
A rounder, dimpled girl quickly bustled in, taking the squirming toad gratefully from Tom's hands, cooing something soothing to it (though it didn't seem to be working in the slightest) and kissing the top of its head. Tom, who did that quite a bit with his serpents, did not find this as disgusting as the braided girl (who scrunched up her nose) and Filius (who just stared) did. The girl that was reunited with her toad then looked to the boy's sheepishly, and turned to leave with the Scottish lass until her friend spoke up for her.
"Mind if we join yeh?"
This was how Tom and Filius were first introduced to Minerva Mcgonagall and Pomona Sprout. The four children quickly swapped stories and experiences, and Tom learned that both girls were halfblood, though Minerva herself grew up on a farm while Pomona resided in magical Wales instead. Neither were bothered by Tom and Filius' heritage, and soon the worry that had been growing since his encounter with Malfoy all but melted away.
A trolley filled with sweets came along, and each of them pitched in to buy a couple of snacks for the trip. Minerva, Filius, and Pomona, all who have been raised with the Wizarding World delicacies, explained to the rather curious Tom each magical sweet. Licorice wands soon became a close favorite, while chocolate frogs were a close second. There's just something exhilarating about catching and eating what appears to be a live animal with no moral repercussions. When he said this to the others, they stared at him for a good minute before bursting into giggles.
Conversation soon turned to one that Tom was actually familiar with.
"So," began Pomona, her brown eyes glittering in curiosity, "What house do you think you'll get into?"
"Ravenclaw." answered Minerva immediately before tilting her head in consideration, "Or Gryffindor. Me mam was a Ravenclaw, but I've always been more rowdy than her."
"I feel similarly!" squeaked Filius with a large smile, "I'm one for adventure, but you have to admit that everything we're learning is very exciting!"
"I'm a shoo-in for Hufflepuff!" Pomona stated proudly, "Everyone in my family's been there."
The three children then looked imploringly to Tom, who sighed a little. He had read Hogwarts: A History enough times to know that Slytherin didn't have the best reputation. But then again, neither did muggleborns.
"I think I'd probably get into Slytherin." Tom mumbled, "Or Ravenclaw. Mostly Slytherin though."
Instead of being upset by this fact, though, Filius, Pomona, and Minerva all got a glint in their eyes. Each of them began whispering excitedly to one another (they became close friends fast... Tom felt a tad left out, but a least they were all still friends) before grinning at the confused orphan.
"Mind cluing me in?" asked Tom, only half joking.
"If each of us gets into a different house," Filius explained, "We'd essentially be the next Hogwarts Four. Like the Founders!"
"Are friendships between houses really that rare?" the dark eyed child questioned, his head tilted to the side.
"They don't really mix much around all houses." Pomona admitted, "My parents tended to stay friends with only Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, but not Slytherins. Slytherins only like to befriend people of their own house, or Ravenclaw, or anyone that they think can get them a leg up in life."
"Not that all of them are like that!" Filius placated when he saw the distraught expression Tom had, "But it is a common occurrence."
He didn't have much time to answer, as a disembodied voice informed them that they would be arriving soon, so Tom decided to reserve his opinion for when he was sorted. However that process worked. As he changed into his new wizard robes, which decidedly felt odd, the boy wondered just how well he would fit into this seemingly cookie cutter society. Still, at least he had some new friends to work with, so that's a perk that he didn't have at Wool's. He'd just have to wait and see.
The orphan child decided that he despised rickety boats that looked like it could capsize at any accidental sway. Even when the groundskeeper had told them 'no more than four to a boat', every child had looked at the wooden death traps like they were about to fall apart as soon as a foot stepped in them. Thankfully nothing of the sort happened, and the bonded quartet finally settled into a boat that seemed rather sturdy (though the amount of goo and other fungi most likely growing in the wood left much to be desired).
Despite the questionably unsafe ride, the view of the Hogwarts castle from the base of the lake was positively breathtaking, the light of the moon illuminating the large structure that looked before them. It made Tom feel small, looking up at something so large. The others shared his sentiment, as they had all gone quiet (as opposed to their loud and excited banter on the train) at the sight of the towering structure that was going to be their home for most of the year in awe.
Boat ride complete, they were met on the steps by none other than Professor Dumbledore (he was wearing the llama robes he bought during the trip with Tom and making all the kids stare at him in alarm and incredulity), who smiled at all of the children that had gathered and gave a knowing nod to Tom when the boy had waved at him. After a brief rundown on what was expected of them as students of Hogwarts, they were led into a chamber right off the Great Hall (because what other place would be so noisy at this time of the night?) before being left to their own devices. It was rather silly of Dumbledore to do so, as excited and nervous children stuck in a room together was never a good combination. Yes, very unsafe indeed, Tom thought to himself.
And whatever his three tentative friends said, he did not come to this conclusion because he jumped a foot in the air when ghosts started phasing through the walls arguing about things that they were peeved about. No, no he didn't now stop laughing dammit Filius!
With a twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore returned and the gaggle of students, who were effectively cowed into behaving by the arrival of the translucent dead people, walked into the Great Hall, lining up as the auburn haired professor fetched a stool and placed it before the crowd of seated students. Dark eyes widened when the man then brought out the most ragged hat that Tom had ever seen, and his mouth opened slightly when the bloody thing opened something akin to a mouth and began to sing.
"Many, many years ago
When Persia came ashore...
Oh sorry, wrong song.
Ahem.
Many, many years ago.
When I was clean and new.
Four friends gathered to build a school
Which now houses me and you.
The first was Clever Salazar
A lad then, young and green.
He proclaimed they'd build the greatest school
The UK's ever seen.
The second was Brave Godric.
His temper fiery like his hair.
Alongside his dearest friend he fought
For the dream they all would bear.
The third was Kind Helga.
Excitable lass was she
Who led them North to Scotland
Her smile light and free
The fourth was Wise Rowena
Though she certainly wasn't the least
It is her castle of which resides
The place of this Great Feast
But this is a tale of olden times
And you all are here today
So let's see which house you belong in
And make up your own mind, okay?"
By the time Tom got over the fact that the Hat was not only animated, but sentient, the Sorting has already begun.
"Flitwick, Filius!" Dumbledore called, and Tom, Minerva, and Pomona all gave the diminutive boy a wide smile and a thumbs up.
His legs dangled from the rather short stool, causing a couple of chuckles to emanate from the crowd of students, young and old. Filius' face was red and bowed before it was covered by the brim of the hat. The trio still waiting gave the giggling students glares (though it worked only on their fellow firsties, as glares from young children just look darn cute).
A minute or so passed, which was longer than the usual hat decision time so far, before the piece of headwear shouted out:
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table with the blue robed students clapped politely as the half-goblin joined their ranks, giving the remaining trio a happy smile. More students were sorted, though Tom didn't really pay much attention until...
"Malfoy, Abraxas!"
The snow white blond boy that had liked then hated him strolled up to the stool, looking as haughty as an eleven year old could, though Tom could see the signs of nervousness in his gait, his posture. Regally Malfoy sat down on the stool, and the hat barely touched his slicked back hair when it bellowed:
"SLYTHERIN!"
Tom didn't really have much time to ponder the boy's placement as the next name called our was:
"Mcgonagall, Minerva!"
Straightening her back, the Scottish lass marched up to the stool, Tom and Pomona flashing her encouraging grins and Filius giving her a thumbs up from the Ravenclaw table. Like Filius, the hat took his time with her, and Tom could see her face scrunched up in thought before she relaxed as the tattered fabric mouth yelled out:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Clapping, Tom watched as Minerva joined the lions at the red table. Two friends in two different houses. He thought back to their idea of being the next Hogwarts Four. If they were sitting so far apart at mealtimes, how would they do it? Sure, they'd have classes together, but if they bunk apart, eat apart, the only thing they'd have in common was schoolwork and study time. Unless you counted weekends, which was good, but still the weekdays didn't offer must in the ways of mingling...
"Riddle, Tom!"
Pomona patted him lightly on the back and smiled brightly as the dark haired child approached the stool. Dumbledore, too, smiled at him as his eyes twinkled behind half moon glasses. Dark eyes surveyed the crowd that payed no attention to a no name muggleborn child such as he until his line of sight was blocked by something being dropped over his head.
"Well, well." a voice emanated from his mind, "What do we have here?"
"Hello." Tom greeted politely, because the voice seemed rather intelligent and if it belonged to the hat, should probably be treated like a person with the human level sentiency it displayed, "I'm Tom."
"Hello Tom." The hat replied, amused, "Let's see where to put you... Ah, you have quite the thirst for knowledge I see, and your courage to speak the truth shines from your heart. It appears that you have already established a deep trust within your new friends as well. But... your ambition. Your cunning. Goodness! Aren't you a little manipulative for a child?"
"Had to learn how to survive, sir." was Tom's shrugging answer, "And I don't think those traits are bad. They've helped get this far, after all."
"It appears you will need it then." The hat told Tom solemnly, "Because the best fit for you can only be SLYTHERIN!"
The final part was said aloud, but the emerald table did not clap initially, only doing so when a round-bodied teacher started to. Most stared at him, disgusted and confused, as the insolent muggleborn that Abraxas had been ranting about on the train joined their table, sitting down at the end where the students scooted over (not that most could notice, the movement seemed like natural position shifting that it was barely noticed) so they wouldn't have to touch the mudblood. It was Filius, who was the closest and therefore saw the behavior even as the sorting continued on, gave Tom an apologetic look. The newly christened Slytherin tried not to be affected by the treatment his fellow housemates were bestowing on him. Abraxas himself seemed to be sneering at him with such distaste that one would think Tom was a leper or something. Thankfully a distraction came in the form of:
"Sprout, Pomona!"
In which the dimpled girl hurried up to the stool and excitedly sat down, her form practically vibrating as the hat was dropped on her head. Seconds later, a grin spread on her face as she was sorted into:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
So. That meant all of them were in different houses. Hogwarts Four indeed. Each friend gave a wave at the other, but soon the other three children were pulled into conversation by their new housemates. Tom's head swiveled to the other first year Slytherins, all of which appeared to congregate around Abraxas Malfoy (who was still sneering at him... which was odd because usually if you dislike something you ignore it, not glare at it). None wished to speak to him, and the older Slytherins pretended that he didn't exist.
Someone cleared their throat, drawing Tom's attention to where the podium near the Head Table sat. There, standing behind it, was Headmaster Armando Dippet (who Tom recognized from Hogwarts: A History) smiling down at them. He greeted them all with a mixture of seriousness and cheer before waving his hand in the air. The reason for the gesture soon became known as food appeared on their plates, steaming and warm. Tom, who had only had the sweets on the train, felt his stomach rumble at the sight. Screw the inner house problems he'd probably be facing - Hogwarts was great!
Honestly, he'd never seen this much food in his life, and to think that the kids at the orphanage had to live off of rations soon due to the fear of war on the horizon made Tom very glad that he decided to attend. Spooning some mashed potatoes and gravy (along with steak, because such luxuries were never afforded to poor orphans like him) onto his plate, the boy began his favorite activity to do at dinner - eat. Still, he had the decency of table manners and savored every delicious morsel even if it got weird looks from those around him. Whispers of being so poor that Hogwarts fare was exquisite filtered through his ears as the other Slytherins talked down about him (the lowly mudblood) in low voices, but honestly he couldn't care. Food was life. Another miracle happened after the savory meals disappeared from their plates, only to be replaced by desserts. This time Tom was a little more critical, if only because he worked at a bakery, but the food was heavenly nonetheless.
Though, it was after the meal had ended, after the welcoming speeches were said and the school song sung (as best as it could be with the lack of a proper tune) that the problems that Tom had noticed would get worse.
It was almost as if Fate hated him.
It was official. Bunking with his fellow Slytherins sucked. Crabbe and Goyle, two hulking boys with a brain cell each to rub together, and Lestrange, a haughty, sneering bloke who seemed to think Tom was some sort of bog toad, apparently thought that Tom's muggleborn status (which Malfoy rubbed in his face) meant that he was easy prey.
They learned the hard way that the orphan was currently at his most dangerous without a wand. Hiyah! London street smarts to the rescue!
Malfoy had started looking at him strangely after the first time he watched Crabbe and Goyle got their arses handed to them, and Lestrange nearly complemented Tom before he realized that he was the enemy again. At least it allowed him to get a good night's sleep. Once he had shown them that he was not as weak as they assumed they backed off, the post-Feast drowsiness making sure that they were too tired to try anything else.
In the morning, Tom woke up in the unholy hour of four am (his usual rising time). Luckily it seemed that none of his fellow dorm-mates shared this inner body clock schedule and all were fast asleep. Now, while Tom could pull some revenge prank on the slumbering children, such an act would most likely made them hate them more. A cycle of revenge wasn't something he was looking forward to this early in the school year... but maybe down the line it would be fun.
The early hour allowed Tom to explore his surroundings without the foot traffic that would no doubt arrive once the sun came up. Not that anyone could see the sun down here in the dungeon, mind you. Everything was lit by torches anyway. The Common Room was... well it was spooky in a snobby way, though the servant speaking child did love the plethora of snake artwork (be it statue, stitched in tapestry, in a mosaic stained glass window, or doodled on the desk nest to a crude drawing of a blokes...anyway) that littered the place. Tom waved at the dark tentacle snaking by the aquarium style window that showed the happenings of the Black Lake, and the tentacle waved back cheerily. Fantastic! His first friend in Slytherin was the Giant Squid!
He wandered the place for a good couple of hours, committing the confusing twists and turns (and stairway and door patterns because navigating this castle was going to be a bloody nightmare he just knew it) to memory as best he could. It was a good thing he had a near perfect memory (well, good in this case, as having such a good memory made grudges hard to let go of).
Eventually he somehow managed to steer himself back to the Great Hall which, alas, had people. Specifically, Filius was sitting at the Ravenclaw table having his breakfast. Tom smiled wide and made his way over to where the half-goblin was and took the seat next to him.
"Morning, Filius." he greeted cheerily.
"Morning, Tom!" Filius replied with equal joy.
The two were already in deep discussion over common rooms (and which feature was cooler - a private library and a tower view as opposed to the aquarium layout of the dungeon abode) when Pomona arrived, dragging a half asleep Minerva in tow. They too sat at the blue table, gathering their breakfast as they joined the ongoing conversation (well Pomona did, Minerva sort of just sat there and stared blankly at the far wall sipping what suspiciously appeared to be black coffee).
At this point it the sun had already crossed the horizon and the noise level of the Great Hall had risen a good ten decibels. Looking around, Tom notes that most of the students were mingling with members of other houses, other than Slytherin. However this was only regarding the table, as Tom saw a good few green clad students sitting outside their own table, himself included. The heads of each house passed along the class schedules, seemingly used to this sort of seating arrangement. Dumbledore had even paused to chat with the group when he went to hand Minerva her schedule and Tom had thought it nice to know the man was still trying to make sure he didn't feel left out as Professor Slughorn (who was head of Slytherin And was the round bodied teacher that had started the awkward clapping at his sorting) just sort of threw the schedule at him before happily greeting Malfoy and the rest of Tom's bunkmates. He supposed being a muggleborn nobody meant that he wasn't destined to get very far, but he'll prove that notion wrong.
They'll see that his fate could be changed.
Classes, Tom decided, could be organized into two categories. 'Yes' and 'No'. The reason being because it wasn't a matter of difficulty or interest, but in the general feel of the lessons.
For example, most classes (and by that he meant Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense) fell into the 'Yes' category because they were 'Safe' and 'Interesting' and 'Easy', but there was also Herbology which just felt like Gardening Magical Style: This Time The Plants Can Strangle You If You Forget To Water Them even if it was relatively simple and vaguely interesting. Then there was Potions which only sucked because Malfoy kept trying to sabotage his work and Slughorn just didn't seem to care and there were no safety regulations dammit, but despite that was still a 'Yes' class because the subject itself was fascinating even if it was difficult and unsafe.
There were three 'No' classes, all of which were placed there for relatively individual reasons. Astronomy was held at a ridiculous time of the night and was all about charting the stars. This was interesting and safe, but bloody hell it was late and Tom could barely concentrate on remembering all the little pinpricks of light above him and mapping them on parchment because he was about to keel over and sleep right there. History of Magic was a definite 'No' due to the fact that Professor Binns' lessons were duller than those rubber knives that the Wool's toy box had. The man just walked into the class at the exact same time, read from the textbook (which did not appear to have been updated since the early 1800s) in a flat monotone, and gave out homework before shuffling out again. It was easy stuff to memorize, just boring.
The last of the 'No' classes was Flying. Yes. Flying. Because there was nothing about sticking a hard wooden rod in between your legs and allowing that horizontally positioned rod to go up that was appealing on the slightest. Minerva was understanding of Tom's reservations, but her housemate and friend Rolanda was not, and the yellow eyed girl had taken it upon herself to make sure the muggleborn Slytherin made it up into the air. Unfortunately, the first few lessons didn't go so well, as brooms (like horses) could somehow sense fear and enjoyed shooting the poor boy up into the air at a speed that tested the cushioning charms on the damn repurposed cleaning implements. His Slytherin housemates laughed at him once they were back in the Common Room, gaining quite a few hexes to the face as Tom added more spells to his repertoire.
Although, once he got the hang of it, Flying quickly became a rather exciting 'Yes' class, but that didn't happen until Minerva made the connection between broom flying and aerial acrobatics. Once she pointed that out, Tom had switched his method of flying and actually became rather proficient. Rolanda was very confused about this.
Other than that the school year ran rather smoothly for Tom Riddle's first year. Sure, he had to avoid his fellow housemates who decided that Terrorizing Tom was a hilariously fun pastime while all of his friends seemed to be spending more time with their own housemate friends, but at least they still partnered with him during classes. One must be thankful for small things like that.
Still, it was obvious that the muggleborn Slytherin was becoming an outcast. Even Filius (who had been worried about others' opinions of his half-goblin nature) was more easily accepted by his (admittedly eccentric) housemates, while Tom was shunned in-house for being muggleborn and by the other houses for being a Slytherin. While Filius, Pomona, and Minerva grew closer together (with Tom dubbing them as The Three Musketeers), despite them attempting to include the Slytherin in gatherings, it was obvious that the boy was drifting away from the trio of rapidly social-climbing friends (even if they denied it and made a point to include him in their inter house gatherings).
While a gathering as such sounds like a good idea on the surface, the truth is that most of the Musketeers' fellow housemates balked at the idea of a Slytherin joining in on their down time. This may or may not be because this was their 'down time' where they could talk smack about the true Hogwarts buttmonkey house (made worse by the behavior of the likes of Lestrange, who enjoyed hexing people alone in hallways). Mealtimes were fine, and Tom was almost indispensable as a study partner (ah, the perks of being a genius), but God forbid the evil Slytherin join in on their downtime. Minerva, Pomona, and Filius were apologetic about the awkwardness, but eventually Tom stopped going to those gatherings.
As Christmas break came around Tom found himself rather alone. His drifting friends had all gone home for the holidays (as did his tormentors) while the dark haired child decided to stay at the castle instead. Hogwarts was quiet without the many children stomping around the halls, but Tom didn't feel like it was a bad kind of quiet. Professor Dumbledore took this opportunity to spend time with the young wizard, though he seemed rather disheartened to find out that Tom was drifting from his initial friends due to house divide. However Tom assured the man that they were still friends despite not hanging around each other as much.
Speaking of which, Tom had to get them Christmas presents. It wasn't easy considering that Tom never really had friends to give presents to before. He ended up ordering things via owl mail (after Dumbledore showed him how) and used the money he was getting from his growing investments (which was becoming rather sizable, he was quite proud). Minerva got a book on Animagus transformation (because she had talked on about her fascination on the subject) that he procured from Mr. Burke (who assured him that the tome was rather rare and therefore unlikely that someone else got her the same present). Pomona got a pot that had a Bubotuber plant in it, and Filius got a clockwork canary that acted as an alarm clock for both study, sleep, and waking (which was something Tom had a hand in tweaking, initially it was just charmed to sing). After an interesting conversation with Dumbledore about the nature of magical sweets, he opted to buy the man a pack of muggle sweets that he thought the professor might like.
On the morning of Christmas, the dark eyed boy awoke alone in his dorm to a small pile of presents at the foot of his bed. Tears welled up and spilled from his pale face, though thankfully no one was there to witness it. The boy carefully unwrapped each present, saving the colorful paper for spell practice later. From Minerva he got a copy of How To Train Your Broom: For Those Who Want To Fly Dangerously while Pomona got him a large packet of licorice wands. From Filius he got what appeared to be the same clockwork canary but upon closer inspection the spellwork had been tweaked to chirp whenever it was near something cursed. Interesting how they used the same base present, but he supposed it was to be expected. Out of the three of them, Tom was still closest to Filius.
Dumbledore had thanked Tom for the lemon drops when the boy sat next to him at breakfast, stating that he believed that he had found his new favorite sweet. The dark haired boy smiled. So he might not spend as much time with his friends as he liked. They still thought about him, and he them. Despite his fellow Slytherins thinking that he was dirt and easy pickings, his time at Hogwarts was still loads better than Wool's.
This sentiment was put to the test when classes resumed.
During his winter break Tom had explored the castle as much as he could, finding and memorizing all the hidden passageways that he could use to escape Lestrange and Malfoy (and also cut time on getting to class). He didn't tell his friends about these routes, as they were nearly always surrounded by others who would turn around to prank him when the Musketeers weren't there, especially that Fudge lad and a nasty Ravenclaw by the name of Olive Hornby.
It was Hornby that had shoved Tom into the second floor girl's bathroom while on his way from Professor Merrythought's office (she had given him extra assignments as he was breezing through the material) and had locked the door before running away giggling. As the Slytherin soon found out, she had also put some sort of enchantment that made sure the ruddy thing stayed shut no matter what he did.
Obviously today Fate hated him.
Thankfully the bathroom was empty, but there was something wrong with a lad being in a girl's lavatory. Deciding that the best way out (besides waiting around for someone to find him here... wouldn't that be mortifying) was to find some hidden passageway out of there so Tom began to inspect the nooks and crannies of the bathroom.
The stalls have him nothing but a weird look into the lives of girls by the scrawls on the stall walls (some which had odd things like "M+T" and other such things with hearts surrounding it, or "Jacinta is cheating on Brian". One stall had a bunch of tally marks under a mysterious scrawl that read "I Hate Monthlys, Tick If You Agree"). However, it was the sinks that finally bore some fruit in the oddest of ways.
There was a little metal snake almost hidden on one of the faucets. When Tom approached, he swore the tiny thing winked at him. Deciding that this was most likely his only way out of certain embarrassment, Tom began to wave his wand at the metal serpent to no avail. In his frustration, he hissed "Open!" (along with a few other choice swears that he had learned from Oscar) at the snake, and the sink began to move downwards.
Revealed to him was a large tunnel made by the sink's descent. Dark eyes widened, as he hadn't expected the key to opening the passage to be something as simple as saying 'open' in snake speak. Whoever put this in must have assumed that the skill was rare (or said person was an idiot, honestly it could go either way). Staring down at the tunnel that went somewhere dark, Tom shrugged and jumped in, his ears picking up the fact that the castle just sealed him in this place as he rapidly slid into the unknown, hoping that Fate wasn't screwing him over.
Because that was the thing about Fate. It is a fickle, fickle thing.
AN:
Oni: That's all for now, folks!
Tom: Please Follow, Favorite, And Review.
Oni: And I'll see you next time, My Pretties!