Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tom Riddle and the Resurrection Stone	By : wherdatcomfrom Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2992 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter fandom, neither the books nor films, not characters. I make no money from the writing of this fiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
AN: Before someone corrects me, I know that Hagrid is younger than Tom by about three years. Suffice to say, I had my reasons for giving him his wand early, but not to worry, he won’t be going to school on the head-start program. He has to wait.

For the most part, I’m following the character lists as closely as I can, checking with sources (like the lexicon) but for some holes to be filled, I’ll have to fudge a little. If anyone wants to help, I could use some names for characters that I can’t find either first or last names, (ie. Moaning Myrtle, Mulciber, Warrington, Yaxley)

Chapter Three: A Castle, Somewhere in Scotland

                Most of the way there, Tom endured the various questions posted by Gotham Nott as a tiny boy with beady eyes stared at him. The boy, Anthony Pettigrew, seemed only interested in their new cohort and his face was making Tom rather nervous.

                “So, what is your background, Tom? Darius has been hinting to us all month.” Gotham asked as the other five boys looked his way.

                “I’m no pure-blood, if that’s what you’re asking.” Tom explained. “My father was a muggle.”

                “We aren’t that stuck up,” Gotham said waving it away. “What about your mother?”

                “She was a Gaunt. They were descended from the house of Slytherin.” Tom continued. “I have an uncle and a grandfather; they were in Azkaban.”

                “Wow.” Said Anthony.

"Told you. He's the last descendent of Salazar Slytherin, himself. He's sure to be put in the house." Darius said, grinning from ear to ear.

                "It doesn't mean that. I could just as easily be put in any house, my dad said so." Tom argued, not liking the way they were all staring at him. "I wouldn't mind being a Ravenclaw, like my adoptive parents were."

                "Well, I only wanted to be in Slytherin," Abraxas Malfoy said, his white blond head held high, aiming his pointed nose toward Tom's forehead. "My father said that all of the great wizards were in Slytherin."

                "Albus Dumbledore was a Gryffindor," Charlus Potter said, correcting the other boy. "He's the greatest wizard ever. I heard that he teaches Transfiguration."

                Malfoy turned his ice blue eyes toward the dark haired boy. "Just because your brother is a Gryffindor, and a prefect, does not make you so smart, Potter. And you are just as likely to be in Slytherin as the rest of us, based on your slight petulant streak."

                "What's that got to do with anything, Malfoy?" Charlus barked, giving his eyes an evil glint.

                "Just that you won't be any old Gryffindor, so stop acting like they are so bloody great. And so what if Dumbledore was one. Slughorn is our professor and you know it. Every one of you will end up Slytherins." Abraxas snorted to the three first years. "I am in Slytherin, and so are Gotham and Orion. Potter's brother is a Gryffindor, but that doesn't mean he'll go there and Pettigrew comes from a family of Hufflepuffs, but he'd prefer to be in with us, wouldn't you, Anthony?" Abraxas had a perpetual sneer to his voice and Tom grit his teeth to keep from mentioning it. He was reminded of the boy's father, and the way that the old man poked at him whenever he wanted Tom to answer a question, and was always disappointed by the answer.

                "I like hanging out with you guys, Malfoy. You're the smartest and the most powerful wizards in the whole school." Pettigrew answered, but Tom wondered if it was true, since Anthony was a first year, so had no idea who else went to the school already.



                Tom watched the blond, noting that he turned to Nott as if gauging his approval then beamed when he noted that he had it. Tom steered the conversation away from the house issue by bringing up mundane topics.

                The door slid open and three girls sidled in. One was a beautiful blonde with a porcelan comlextion and bright silver eyes. She slid onto Malfoy's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Braxey, the trolley's coming. Aren't you going to buy me a sweet?" she asked and the blond boy blushed, prettily.

                "Of course, Lucy. What would you like?" he asked her and the girl put a finger to her chin as if only now realizing that there would be a choice.

                "I don't know. Maybe you should just buy a lot and then I can decide." she offered and her two friends giggled.

                One of the other girls, with hair the color of cornmeal, sneered down at Gotham from the doorway, until the younger boy looked up. "Nott." she said simply.

                "Deirdre. How's your mum?" he asked.

                "Mums fine. How's her brother?" the girl returned curtly.

                "Dad's fine, too. Did you want some sweets? I know you like the pumpkin pasties." Gotham offered but she rolled her eyes. "You know how the family hates that gesture, Dee."

                "The family? You mean, your father. Don't kid me, Gotham Nott. I'll buy my own sweets, thank you." and she thrust herself away from the doorway.

                "I'll go calm her down. Meet us in the corridor, Braxey." Lucy said, crawling to her feet again and disappearing behind the other girl. Gotham pulled a galleon from his pocked and tossed it tothe last girl.

                "Buy her that pastie, okay Liz?" he said just before she left. She turned at the door, sighed and nodded solemnly.

                "Oh, the joys and perils of marital bliss, eh Goth?" Abraxas said as he rose from his seat. Gotham scowled at him as the first years, and Jonathan Romley waited. When Malfoy had left, he turned to them, sighed and shook his head.

                "Over the summer, my dad and Aunt Trilla decided to tell us that they'd arranged for our marriage, when we were little. She's not too thrilled about it. Not only am I two years younger than her, but she had her eyes set on that looney Eddie Clearwater. Of all the boys to have as a love rival, he's like dueling against one of the professors. No one beats Clearwater, at anything." Gotham sighed again.

                "You are going to marry your cousin?" Tom asked.

                "Done all the time, Hershel. Don't ask lame questions." Romely shoved him slightly. "Lucy, Lucinda Greengrass, if you don't know, is Malfoy's mother's cousin, and word is he and she . . ."

                "Enough!" Nott shouted. "Doesn't make it easier. I don't want to marry Dee, but the contract is all arranged. As for Malfoy and Greengrass, they'll make pretty babies someday, at least."

                "Who was the other girl?" Tom asked and immediately noted that Darius squirmed beside him.

                "That was Elizabeth Quay. She's a third year. Darius has been trying to get his dad and mum to work out a contract that gets him a little bit of Liz for the last year. Just because you're in Hogwarts, Darius, don't expect you're a man, just yet." Jonathan Romley teased.

                "At least I have a possible bride, Romely. No one wants you." Darius erupted.

                Tom grabbed his friends shoulder as Darius was about to rise,his hand going instinctivley to the wand he didn't even know how to use, yet. Jonathan's hand drifted to his own, but failed to connect when the door opened and Malfoy glared into the compartment. "Oh, do tell me that this hasn't become a room filled with cats while I was away. Gotham, you are usually better at controlling your minions." the blond sneered.

                "Did Dee and Lucy like their treats?" Gotham asked and Malfoy smiled congenially.

                "They did indeed. They will join us at the house table. Dee wants to ride in the carriage with her girlfriends." Malfoy lowered into his chair and looked around. He found Tom's position, still keeping Darius in his chair to be particularly fascinating. Tom dropped his hand and Darius gave him a thankful look.

                "Does the Quidditch season start right off, or will there be a wait before the first games?" Tom asked, suddenly. He decided to make his departure when they were safely discussing the merits of the new Nimbus Broom company.

                "I'm going to look for Eileen, he declared, standing up and moving toward the door.

                "What's with you Hershel? You in love with that slug or something?" Malfoy taunted and Tom gave him a scathing look.

                "I don't throw away connections needlessly, Malfoy. Eileen has more magic in her pinky than your whole family, and that counts for a lot with me." he said before he turned and left.''

                He found Eileen in a compartment surround by . . . what could only be called . . the dregs of young wizarding society. They were deeply engrossed in a game of Gobstones, and Eileen was winning. Tom stood back and watched as she showed her prowess. No one ever beat Eileen Prince at her chosen game. Tom had been trying for a couple of years to teach her wizard's chess, so that he could stand a chance at their games.

                When the game was over, and three of the combatants left the compartment to return to theirs, Tom slid in and sat beside a shy looking brunette across from Eileen. Next to his friend, a blonde with long curly pig-tails was smiling at him in a flirty way. "I thought I'd tell you, we're getting close. Probably want to get changed. I'm in a compartment up front, with some of Darius' friends." he said, looking only at Eileen.

                "Thanks for that. I didn't realize how late it is. I was having ever so much fun, Tom!" Eileen's face had gotten some color from her time spent with Tom and his siblings. She had nearly lost the sallow color that she had always carried. Her black hair hung limp, though it shined in the light of the car and the stars that twinkled into their window.

                "Well, I'm going back to the front. I'll see you again when we get there. My father says there are boats, so we could share one." Tom offered and the blonde giggled. Eileen glared at her then nodded his way.

                "I'd like that. Can we share with my new friend, Diana MacMillan, too? She's alone this trip." Eileen pointed to the brunette who blushed nearly purple at Tom's aknowledgement.

                "Sounds good. The three of us, Okay?" he asked and the girl nodded back, vehemently.

                The train pulled into the station in Hogsmeade and the students clmbed out. An aged wizard, in flowing robes and a long greying beard, stood at one end and called to the first years. He led them to the dock, where more than twenty small boats waited, with lanterns on their staffs. There were no oars.

                Tom led Eileen and Diana to one and waited as they stepped in. He sat behind them and felt the boat begin to move. Darkness closed in around them, as the lights of town were hidden by trees. The lights on their poles flickered to life and twinkled off of the choppy water. A canopy of stars hung overhead.

                The boats crossed the dark lake, following the one that held the elder wizard. Tom watchedhis back in awe. He had heard of this man from his father. Albus Dumbledore was well known, in all circles, as a great wizard and an amazing transfigurations teacher.

                The castle loomed large in the distance, closing fast on the tiny boats, or so it seemed. Tom felt tiny where he sat, his mouth agape in awe. When they finally made dock, the stars were shielded by the towering ramparts. The boats had floated inot an arched alcove and tapped against a well-worn peer. They sat as if tied off so the first years could scraqmble out and gather around Dumbledore.

                “Follow me, and keep up. You wouldn’t want to get lost on your first day of school.“ The old man paused so that silence would accent his words. “When we reach the main floor, I’ll lead you to the Great Hall to be sorted. You will each be placed into one of four houses, for the four founders of our school. They are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Once you have been sorted, you will join your housemates at their table and the feast will follow. Are there any questions?“

                A boy near the back, his hair lank and ginger colored, squeaked out. “ What if you don’t want the house that is chosen for you?“

                Dumbledore looked perplexed, then smiled in understanding. “Septimus Weasley, correct? Fear not, Septimus. No one, as yet, has had any complaints about their house placement.“

                Tom scowled at that and blurted out. “But, do you get any choice?“

                The man gauged him carefully.“What is your name, young man?“ he asked.

                “ Tom Hershel . . . eh, actually, it’s Thomas Marvolo Riddle, by birth.“ He wasn’t sure why he admitted this, but behind him Darius chorused in.

                “His mum was a Gaunt, descended from Salazar Slytherin.“ Tom turned to glare at him, but his friend looked terribly proud of him and he didn’t have the heart.

                “So, you must wish to be in the house of your family, eh Tom?“ Dumbledore asked.

                ”Not actually, but I’d prefer it to say, Hufflepuff. I don’t think I’m loyal enough for that lot. My adopted parents were both Ravenclaw, so that would be nice, too.”

                “Well, if you are sorted into Hufflepuff, perhaps you are more loyal than you believe. Regardless, I do not believe that the sorting will go that way.” Dumbledore looked around. “If there are no further questions, follow me.”

                Up a flight of stairs, he led them, down stone walls that were lit by torches spaced apart in eerie succession. There were so many first years, that they had to crowd together in order to keep up. Soon they arrived at the main entry hall, a large rotunda with archways and doors spread around them. Dumbledore stopped in front of the largest set of doors and raised his hands. “Stay here and I will return to get you in a bit.” He stepped through a crack in the doors and was gone.

                A voice near the back spoke in a challenging tone. “So, you’re the descendent of one of the founders? I’ll bet you think that gets you special treatment around here.”

                Tom looked around and found the source of the voice, a heavy set boy with a large brow ridge and angry hazel eyes. “I don’t expect anything I haven’t earned. Who are you?”

“My name is Ardis Goyle. My dad is a member of the Wizengamut.” Goyle’s chest puffed up as he bragged, making him look even more Neanderthal. “My mum is in the Daughters of Morgana.”

                “That’s impressive, Goyle. Morgana’s children were all halfbreeds, as I recall.” Crabbe scorned and several others smirked.

                “There are many who believe that Arthur was just a limited wizard.” Goyle announced looking at Tom and otherwise ignoring the rest.

                “I’ve never heard that.” Tom said and his false curiosity seemed to ease the bigger boy. Canus had told him may stories about Merlin, Arthur and the wizards of ancient, be they true or fable, but never was there any suggestion of this sort. “Maybe you could tell me more, later.” He added.

                Goyle seemed appeased by this and grinned, alleviating his face of the caveman appearance. He could almost be called attractive in this humor. Crabbe scoffed silently, but a glance from Tom held his tongue.

                Any further conversation was cut off by the return of the old wizard. Dumbledore stood tall in front of them, cleared his throat and announced, “We are ready for you.”

                The double doors opened and they filed into the room. Long tables stretched out in front of them, filled with gawking students and the ceiling was lit by hovering candles under a starry night sky. Tom knew that it was enchanted, for Adhara loved to read the children stories about the school and her favorite bedtime book was Hogwarts: A History.

                At the far end, on a raised dais, in front of the faculty table, sat a single stool with a mangy looking hat on it. It had a peculiar tilt to it and the creases looked vaguely human, like it could open its mouth and speak.

                Dumbledore stopped just below the stool and turned back to the first years. “When I call your name, you will take the seat and I will place the sorting hat on your head.” He raised an arm to gesture toward the stool. “But first, the hat will give its message for this year.”

                The hat seemed to rise up taller and the creases moved. The voice, deep and clear, spoke out so that everyone in the room stopped and listened.

Another year, begun the same

But fortune smiles, and much is gained.

A place for each, and each to his place

Till not a child stand in this space.

How will you learn, what will we teach

A lesson for all, a message for each.

But first, a thought about the world,

How each one here has long been told.

For true wizards are not only you

but come in many colors, too.

Their shades and tones go hand in hand

With were they come from, how they stand.

And in the future each will be needed

To answer the call for saviors heeded.

So, learn young wizards one and all

And you’ll be ready to hear the call.

And race to aid in healing this race

From a threat that come from a far off place.

After silence filled the room, Dumbledore cleared his throat, stepped up and lifted a scroll. It rolled open to hang to his knees. He picked up the hat by its pointed peak and held it aloft. “Abercrombe, Olivia!”

The girl with the blonde pigtails, from Eileen’s train compartment, walked coyly to the stool and sidled onto it. The professor lowered the hat and everyone waited. A few seconds passed before the voice shouted out, “Hufflepuff!” and the sorting had begun.

                Martin Avery and Darius were sorted into Slytherin, and had taken their seats, when a beady eyed boy named Bartemeaus Crouch was called forward. The Slytherin table was silent in anticipation, as if this boy would fill a void among their ranks. An audible sigh rose from them when the hat called out, “Ravenclaw.”

                Tom watched as Dumbledore called out for Roger Diggory and the prettiest boy he’d ever seen climbed the dais. Roger’s blond hair and perfect teeth ornamented his face. His livid blue eyes sparkled as he climbed onto the stool and waited for the professor to place the hat onto his head.

                Tom found he was holding his breath, waiting impatiently to hear where Roger Diggory would be placed. Time seemed to have slowed down and he had already memorized the beautiful boy’s face.

                “Hufflepuff!” the hat proclaimed and Diggory beamed. Tom felt a wash of disappointment that was short lived in light of the smile that lit the boy’s face.

                Ardis Goyle was placed in Slytherin, along with Patrick Parkinson, Anthony Pettigrew and Charlus Potter. That made a total of seven new boys, and Margaret and Cedrella Black, made 4 girls in the house. Tom was fairly sure that he was not destined to be with his friend.

                Dumbledore called Eileen’s name and she shyly stumbled forward. Tom smiled encouragingly as she climbed onto the high stool. The hat seemed to speak before it had even touched her head, “Ravenclaw!” and she giggled with happiness. Eileen’s new friend, Diana MacMillan, had already joined the students of Rowena’s house, and Eileen rushed to sit next to her at their table.

                As soon as Morris Purkiss and Lionel Prewett had been placed in Gryffindor, Professor Dumbledore called, “Thomas Marvolo Riddle.” And Tom stepped forward.

                He sat easily on the stool, already taller than most boys his age, and waited while the hat was placed firmly onto his head. It settled over his forehead nearly blocking his eyes. “Oh, I see. Very interesting. You have intelligence, and bravery. Your ability to channel your immature magic is exemplary. You are quite loyal to the family that took you in and have learned to control you’re your prankster self. This shows self-control. Very good, very good. Those are very Hufflepuff and Gryffindor ways. But, you have a darker side, a hidden nature. Perhaps, I should . . .”

                “Should what?” Tom squeaked. “I haven’t done anything. I know I can’t be with Darius, so just put me in Ravenclaw, already! I’m not a brave or loyal buffoon!”

                “Not brave? You just argued with someone who’s been sorting children since the founders. Oh, I see. You’re of the line . . .hmm. Slytherin!” the hat crowed and Tom nearly fell from the stool. He was almost as shocked as Dumbledore by the results of his sorting.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tom Riddle and the Resurrection Stone