Chapter 2: Bloodline of the Riddle's live on

One year later

I run to Wool's Orphanage from school before Billy Nash and his friends get to me. My legs hurry down the steps and across town. Mr Adams told me I needed to wait for my mates because he said I was "too young to walk alone to Wool's". However, I feel he was lying to me for my protection. Greta told me Mr Adams was worried about me. I would not understand what for. As I arrive at Wool's, I slip through the garden, carefully avoiding the directors. My body feels shaky from the adrenaline, and I grab a biscuit from the kitchen before retreating to my room. Luckily, I was already caught up, again, for this week's assignments and next week's as well. All of my time will be dedicated to reading the new novel Greta got me this summer. When I enter my room, I stare out my window. Tiny heavy raindrops beat against the glass, and the wind stirred the trees. Reading while it was raining was Greta and I's favourite. We usually read together in my room when it happens.

Waiting patiently, I look over at Pattrick's empty side of the room. He is only visiting for the summer; regardless, I was a little upset that he didn't bother to dwell for the Christmas holiday, so his stay has been rather unpleasant.

When he arrived at the start of summer, I would have assumed he would have loads to talk about, but he remained quiet, threw down his necessities and ventured off around town, barely saying a word to Greta and me. His hair and apparel became more neat and stylish. Greta missed the curls. The only thing that remained the same about him was that he remained happy. His mood would have changed if the boarding school had shaped him that badly. I stared at his messy, dirty pile of clothes in the corner and his stuffed trunk under the bed. He slept with a dark red blanket with a lion on it, and that was it. No posters or pictures hung above his bed—no presence of Patty at all, if anything, a stranger.

Greta swung open my door, disturbing me off of my bed.

"Atty!" She exclaimed. I stared, waiting for a response. "Miss Marie and Mr Adams are planning a field trip next weekend!"

"They what?" I was surprised. The directors never took us anywhere unless it was to the market, park, or school.

"Yes, we are going to the aquarium!" She hopped up and down, smiling happily. Greta was one year older than me, and it has always astonished me how she could always have more energy.

I sprung up, embracing her hands as we both bounced around together. The directors would be particularly unhappy about it, but who cares?

"Greta, this is great! We have been saving money up to go here anyway." I watched as she nodded happily. "It's going to be a lot of fun."

"Right. Oh, and you can take your sketchbook and draw the creatures." She suggested, reaching for my sketchbook. Impulsively, I snagged it from her hands, feeling frightened. Greta looked at me with concern. "Atty, I'm-" a knock beat up against the wooden door. I froze, thinking it may have been Patty. Greta didn't freeze; she guided herself around me and muttered under her breath, "I'll get it."

I didn't bother to glance at who might have been at the door. I felt disorganised and began tidying my room from Greta's and I's excitement.

"Atticus, you have a visitor." Miss Marie's voice echoed from the corridor.

I turn, looking over my shoulder. When I saw her, I nearly dropped my sketchbook—the lady from last year when Pattrick was called downstairs. We exchanged looks once; nevertheless, I felt I would see her again.

"How do you do Atticus." She said bluntly, pressing her thin lips together.

She was tall and slim, with saggy skin and long fingers. Her eyes became hidden with age, and her hair was entirely grey, different from the last time I saw her. A million questions bolted in my head when it hit me: Patty was sent away, and he came back an entirely different person—an orphan with style, skill, tolerance and manners. Then, my mind rolled back to myself. I had been acting up all year. Mr Adams and Miss Marie had to have talked to me several times. I have been snagging food and hiding from the others. Once I realise it, I have been a real pain these past few months. Don't tell me the bread was the last straw.

She walked into the room, the directors left, and she neared closer.

"Are you a doctor?" I ask, feeling my body suddenly freeze with terror.

"No, I am a professor." She replied calmly, sitting herself on the edge of my bed.

"A professor? W-what kind of professor." I spoke, attempting to shake the stutter out of my speech.

Listening to her introduction, I feel at ease sitting on Patty's favourite chair.

"I teach at a school." She replied, staring at me cautiously.

"Am I in trouble? O-or is it because I have been stealing my meals for later?" I ask wearily, clenching Patty's pillow, which I remember him throwing at me before leaving with the same lady.

"Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Atticus. But, you will learn all kinds of things." She hesitated, looking at the floor. "You will learn magic."

Her words bit into me like fleas. I didn't understand what she was saying and was more focused on her unusual behaviour than her words. My eyes zoomed around, looking for something to say. I don't think people know how to respond to someone telling you that you will learn magic. The silence must have caught her attention because she spoke with gentleness now.

"You can…do things. Can't you, Atticus?" She sounded, leaning towards me while sitting on the bed. "Things other children can't." My eyes focused on hers, locking some sort of connection with the old lady. I felt my body clam, and my lungs forced me to pant. My body heaved up and down uncontrollably. Her statement made me remember when I woke up from a nightmare, looking around; everything in the room was floating. I remembered sitting up, rubbing away the sleep, and everything afloat fell back to its place in a messy manner. That was not the first time something like that had happened. Once, I was sitting in the dining room, alone, with only myself in the setting. I was staring into the kitchen when the piece of candy I was looking at began squirming out of the bowl. Weird things happen every day. I always told myself that maybe it was all in my mind or just a mere coincidence; however, sitting here, in this room with a lady telling me that there is a world out there that does crazy stuff like me every day, made me feel indifferent.

Returning to focus, I realised the lady was looking at me intensely as if trying to figure me out. My leg begins to bob, and I chew my lip. I have been getting nervous lately, all the time. It doesn't matter, and it could be out of the blue; I don't know why, but it just happens.

"Atticus." She began. "You will pack your things and come with me to Hogwarts. You can return for summers and holidays, of course." Her voice receded in my mind. I instantly thought about Greta and Pattrick and how I wouldn't be willing to leave them. I thought about Miss Marie and Mr Adams, the directors who have cared for me ever since I came to Wool's Orphanage. My room, my school, my two only best friends. How was I supposed to leave all of that behind? I clutched my eyes and took a breath. I heard clustering and jittering from objects around me. My eyes dart open, and I realise we may have an earthquake. But I soon discovered that it was just me. A clash echoes in the background. I turned to see that the noise was the vase that Pattrick, Greta, and I made with clay back in third grade. I let out a soft groan, returning my attention to the Professor.

"At Hogwarts, you won't be taught not only how to use magic but how to control it." Her head approaches me as she stands off the bed and pulls out a narrow stick from her robe pocket. I watch as she steps towards the broken vase on the floor. The questions about the women's sanity added to my mind by the second. She flicks the stick, and the shattered remains of the miniature masterpiece fly towards each other and begin to fix itself. The potter clacks and taps against the wooden floor.

My jaw drops, and I stand from Pattrick's chair, leaving it to spin behind me. I look up at the Professor, and she gives me a brief smile. She nods and stuffs her stick into her robes, which I now realise is some kind of wand. I watch as she approaches the door, her black boots colliding with the floor.

"Wait," I say desperately, feeling a sensation of excitement. "I…never got your name, Professor." We stare, and I wait patiently.

"I am Professor McGonagall, and I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, Mr Riddle. I will be keeping my eye on you." She faces her body towards me and steps back as she is. She briskly pulls something out of her other robe pocket and slowly hands it to me.

I reach for it. The professor held a tan envelope wrapped neatly with twine, but she pulled it back as I was about to grab it. "Be packed by tomorrow morning, Mr Riddle. No need to waste time." Professor McGonagall said, then patted the envelope on my hand. She then left without looking back.

The following day came quicker than I realised. I woke up early to finish packing from the night before. Patrick was fast asleep, already packed and ready for his private school. His trunk was shut neatly at the end of his bed; he had a folded outfit on top of it and some books stacked beside it. On my side of the room, sticky tacks from previous posters were left on the wall, along with several pieces of clothing and papers scattered along the floor. Last night, I finished packing my books, clothes and blankets. The trunk the professor left for me was reasonably sized, enough to hold all my belongings, granite I didn't have much. None of the kids at the orphanage did.

It was nearly eight o'clock. Patty and I still weren't talking. He had already taken his belongings downstairs and finished breakfast. Greta, Patty and I typically take a morning walk after breakfast; however, I decided to skip it today.

A light drizzle had showered our small town. I was sitting, looking out the window, when a slight knock interrupted my moment. My head turned to meet Greta's gaze. Her grey eyes were puffy and red; she had been crying. I pounced off of my mattress and dashed to her.

"What happened? Are you alright? Did Patty say something?" I asked desperately, allowing the words to leave my mouth without thinking.

"What? No." There was a pause and an awkward moment. My worry must have freaked her out. "It was hard when I had to let Patty go for the year, but… now I have to let both of my best friends go too." She looked up at me, her blond hair gleaming with the bit of light the sky reflected.

She brought me into her, wrapping her arms around me as she buried her face in my shoulder. I remember when she used to do this to Patty and me. We would sit with her and allow her to cry about her worries and late family.

"You could never lose us, Greta." I squeezed her back, only letting go if she did. "This-" Bringing her face to see mine. "Is forever." I held a picture of the three of us sitting below our beloved oak tree. She smiled, and I knew that this moment meant everything to her.

—-

The directors dropped me off at the train station. They leaned against their car and waved, trusting I could find my way to the station, although I am an orphan and have never been on such a thing. My entire life has always been centred around Wool's, and I, unfortunately, never left.

The station was busy with people in suits holding cases and newspapers running in every set direction with an iPhone. It was a struggle having to manoeuvre through the crowds of people. I dig around my pocket to find the letter the professor had left for me the previous day. I pulled it out and took out a thing ticket outline in gold. I read. "Platform 9 ¾". I grimaced, flipping the ticket back and forth, then searching for anything else in the brown envelope.

"Platform nine and three-quarters," I muttered, pushing the trolley that held my belongings through the station.

I received various looks as I continued my way towards the mysterious location. My trolley wasn't exactly the most normal thing in sight. I batted my head around platforms nine and ten. Nine and three-quarters were ultimately non-existent, and I had made a final mental note that Professor McGonagall didn't know what she was doing anymore.

Laughter erupted behind me. I see two kids with trolleys and a small girl walking together. Their parents were shortly behind, and I watched the eldest, who had a birdcage on his trunk, run toward the wall. I bolted upright, stopping my mouth from calling towards him when he disappeared. The other boy, who stopped behind, hesitated. I watched as his father helped him through the brick wall. The mother and little girl followed behind.

Still in disbelief, I didn't hesitate to stride, quickly following the family through the magical wall. A whoosh of sensation left my body, my eyes jammed shut, and the sound of a merrier, noisy world entered my ears after a moment. I blinked open to look around and see several, what I assume to be students, running around with old broomsticks and caged owls. Some ran around in groups with uniformed clothing, such as red jumpers, blue shirts, and green or yellow ones. A black and red train sat on the tracks. It looked somewhat dated compared to the trains on King's Cross Station tracks.

"ALL ABOARD HOGWARTS EXPRESS!" Yelled a man. He held a gold stopwatch. He must have caught me staring because he said, "The train departs in ten minutes, boy. Best be on it." I look up to meet his gaze and quickly turn my trolley away to get it loaded. As I sit alone on the train, I feel it leave along with the life I had and will leave behind.

We were all changed into our school uniforms before the train arrived at the school. Many of the young students who had been close to my age were all wearing black ties and robes with the school symbol. However, many other students had various colours and animals on them. We were all led to boats that crossed the large lake leading up to the castle. I, along with the other young students, were in total awe. I have never seen anything remotely exotic like the castle. I had never even been to the Buckingham Palace.

We entered what a short professor said was the "Grand Hall". A massive room where all the students eat and discourse. Four long tables with students wearing the same colours and symbols turned their heads and snickered to their friends as we made our way to the "Sorting Hat".

It was a while until the short professor could call out my name. The 'R's' were close to the end. I cheered and smiled as students were sorted into "Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." I was anxious to hear my name called, and then the preppy voice of the short professor called out, "Atticus Morfin…R-Riddle." I was so enrolled with excitement that I dismissed the anxious stutter in the professor's voice. My face lit up with a grin that quickly faded with the rushed murmurs and uncomfortable shifts in body language of the entire grand hall.

As I receded up the stairs, I could hear the slight mutters of concern from the students. The looks on the professor's faces weren't reassuring as well. I turned to sit on the stool. And the sorting hat was slowly lowered on my head.

"Wow…very particular this one. I could see your thoughts and feel your emotions, young one." The movement of the hat's mouth tickled my curls, and I tried to keep my frustration. "The bloodline of the Riddles…live on." I felt the surprise in the sorting hat's face, and the entire room gasped and murmured to their peers.

"Silence." Professor McGonagall hollered to the school.

"However, will the heir be in the same household? Hmmm, it would only appear so. However, there is something here. Something crucial that even I can leave unnoticed."

Nearly half an hour passed, and my spine was beginning to give out. I felt my body shake as the entire school's eyes looked up at me.

"Last time I made this choice, the wizarding world before us almost crumpled to something that would have been unjust. I will not be making that mistake again. Don't make me regret this young one." I felt his mouth open, and the loudness of his voice echoed the silent hall.

"Best be…RAVENCLAW!" I looked to the left of the red table, which was Gryffindor. Beside it was the blue table, Ravenclaw and to the right of it was Slytherin, which was near the wall.

I got up and clacked my shoes in the silent corridor towards the Ravenclaw table. The other fellow Ravenclaw students shifted uncomfortably in their seats and made room for me. A feeling inside me told me I belonged with the Slytherins. However, I didn't know this feeling would be my entire life.