For the Greater Good || Tom Riddle ||

Chapter Six: An Inquiry Into Immortality

As a child, Gwen had been caught with her hand inside of the biscuit jar on multiple occasions.

The sharp little shock that would surge through her when her grandmother would suddenly appear behind her would always cause Gwen to jump in fright.

The feeling she was experiencing at the moment was similar. She had been caught red-handed.

For most people, merely being seen speaking to someone was not deemed a crime. However, at Hogwarts, there was certain things that were most definitely frowned upon, and being seen socializing outside the accepted friendships between houses was not acceptable.

At first, Gwen didn't quite grasp the intricacies between house rivalries. Yes, the Sorting Hat and it's catchy little tune had explained what each house looked for in its students, but it failed to elaborate on how each house held certain expectations regarding the relationships members kept up.

The Sorting Hat didn't explain that it wasn't okay to be friends with a Gryffindor if you were a Slytherin, or vice versa.

When Gwen began eating in the Great Hall during the early hours of morning at the beginning of the school year, Gryffindors and Slytherins seemed very similar at surface level while she watched them, peering over her teacup, intrigued by the multitude of personalities that seemed to follow a pattern.

The girls that belonged to Gryffindor were almost always spritely and chatty. They always had something to say. The same went for the Slytherin girls, if they had something to tell you, they would let you know.

The boys were a tad different. Both houses seemed to attract males that were boisterous and motivated by the overall outcome of things, not the process. However, Gryffindors were much more candid in their actions, often speaking before thinking. Slytherin males were plotters and planners, manipulators in a sense.

Riddle was the epitome of this. Gwen often wondered if he thought-out every one of his conversations, predicting what the other person would say and devising his response before he opened his mouth.

But as the school year passed and Gwen continued to observe the poorly masked disdain that ran between Gryffindor and Slytherin, she noticed that members of the two houses were motivated by completely different things.

Gryffindors said whatever they wanted because they reveled in the fact that they had the freedom to say it. No one could control their opinion. Slytherins, on the other hand, enjoyed speaking out because they wanted their voice to be heard. They had a certain self-righteous attitude that made them enjoy sharing their thoughts with others, as though their lofty utterances would enlighten whomever they were speaking to.

If there ever was a physical embodiment of the houses, Archie McKinnon would be the perfect representation of Gryffindor, and Tom Riddle would be the very same for Slytherin.

Archie with his wild and upfront personality, whether it be portraying Sir Luckless or commenting on the Quidditch match, the boy was always in the mix of excitement. Tom was alike in a way, always wanting to know the musings of the other students, the gossip that circled the halls of Hogwarts.

But it was clear that Tom cared about the idiotic secrets for a different reason. He didn't care about who had been seen snogging who like Archie did. Tom cared because he gathered material for blackmail.

Indeed, the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin ran deep, perhaps from the very moment Hogwarts had been built, when Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin disagreed about who should be accepted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Gwen faintly recalled her grandmother reading her a great muggle script when she came home one summer from Durmstrang when she was twelve or thirteen years old. The opening lines instantly struck a chord with her, "Two households, both alike in dignity / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."