𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 | tom riddle

𝐢. gain

❝𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭❞

1st September 1938

The great hall was alive with September 1st excitement as it had been every year that magical folk had graced it's halls. Floating candle's graced the enchanted ceiling with a light glow while muggleborn students covered their heads with books out of fear of the wax dripping onto their skin. It never did.

However no one in the hall would know that in seconds as the first years flooded through the large wooden doors, they would meet a boy who would grow to be a man whose name would be whispered in mutters of fear for years to come. But in this moment all he was was a boy about to meet a girl as the fates foretold.

Tom did not particularly enjoy being pushed around by his fellow first years, he was at the back of the huddle with boys and girls around him that made his lip curl. Even at eleven years old he knew he did not belong among them. His eyes searched for someone, anyone who was worthy of his time.

Then his eyes fell on them.

A group of first years split from the rest of their messy, scraggly peers. Two girls and five boys, the boys forming a ring around the girls as the silent group moved on. Their robes had not a single crease or a speck of dust with impeccable, shiny hair.  They didn't even seem real.

Tom watched them glide through the crowd, the students splitting like a river as they walked past. At the front of them stood a girl with dark, ebony hair that fell loose in waves down her back. He could not see her face but made no move to follow them. He had a new target now, if only he knew who they were.

Almost hearing his thoughts, two girls behind him whispered louder and his question was answered.

"Bloody purebloods, so high and mighty." The first said, her voice bitter with obvious jealousy.

"But," The second began whispering, gushing from between gritted teeth. "To be Lilith Rosier would be a dream, look at the way those boys are protecting her and her clothes, Merlin"

"Don't become some societal ninny like her, Tilly." The first replied. "Filthy rich and spoiled rotten thats what they are."

"Whatever you say, Mall." Tilly sighed. "But it's survival of the richest in the long run, they're going to be running the school and we won't be able to do anything about it."

So these were the purebloods he had heard so much about. If he remembered correctly there were twenty eight families, the sacred twenty eight. A plan formulated in Tom's head, the basis of what would control the next seven years of Hogwarts. But right now, he needed to be sorted.

"Avery, Anthony." A stout, older witch held a ratty old hat while reading off of a scroll of paper that had golden ink scrawled in cursive.

An asian boy with long dark hair that was pinned into a pony tail came striding up to the stool, he was just tall enough to sit without having to jump. He was one of the purebloods he had seen moments ago and after a few moments of obvious debate, the dusty hat he had read so much about hummed and called out the word Slytherin.

The table at the far end, decked in their green robes cheered and clapped as the boy made his way over to take his place in the den of snakes. His eyes flicked to the purebloods whose back was to him at the front of the crowd. They clapped politely for their friend and he briefly caught a glimpse of the dark haired girl turning to the other girl before one of the boys surrounding her blocked him once more.