On September 1st, Tom boarded the Hogwarts Express. He found an empty compartment near the back of the train and settled in with a book. Soon, the door slid open. A girl with golden blonde hair and wide, curious eyes stood there.
"Excuse me," she said, her voice a little shy. "May I sit here?"
"Of course," Tom replied, standing to help her with her trunk. He noticed an ornate, gilded crest in the corner—the mark of a pure-blood family.
"I'm Daphne Greengrass," she said, sitting opposite him. "First-year."
"Tom Riddle," he replied. "Same."
Daphne's brow furrowed. She didn't recognize the surname. "Are you… half-blood? Or Muggle-born?"
"I'm an orphan," Tom said flatly. "I don't know. Does the great Greengrass family have a problem with that?"
"No! Not at all!" she said, waving her hands frantically. "My mother says all pure-blood families have Muggle ancestors somewhere. I was just curious. I've never… met anyone from the Muggle world before."
Tom's expression softened. He apologized for his assumption. Daphne, relieved, then asked if he could help her buy Muggle fashion magazines for her younger sister, Astoria, during the holidays. Tom agreed, and the two fell into an easy conversation, with Daphne asking endless questions about the non-magical world.
Around noon, the trolley witch came by. Daphne bought a mountain of sweets, spending two Galleons without a second thought and generously sharing everything with Tom. He learned that her family was entirely Slytherin and that she hoped to be sorted there, but anywhere was fine as long as it wasn't Gryffindor.
"My mother says Gryffindors are the root of all trouble," she explained with a sniff.
Just then, the compartment door was flung open.
"Has anyone seen a toad?" a girl with a mass of bushy brown hair and slightly-too-large front teeth demanded, before her eyes landed on Tom. "Riddle?! What are you doing here?!"
Daphne bristled at the girl's rude entrance.
Tom, however, was calm. "Hello, Granger. If you can be on the Hogwarts Express, why can't I?"
It was Hermione. His old academic rival. The brief shock on her face was replaced by a fierce, competitive fire. Forgetting all about the lost toad, she plopped down next to Tom, launching into a breathless account of all the textbooks she'd already read and the simple spells she'd mastered.
Daphne, incensed by Hermione's arrogance and the fact she was completely ignoring her, began to argue. The two girls traded sharp, surprisingly witty barbs, with Tom sitting silently between them.
The train ride continued, a strange bubble of budding friendship and fierce rivalry. As the sky darkened, Tom gently woke Daphne, who had fallen asleep. They changed into their robes just as the train pulled into Hogsmeade station.
Hagrid, the giant groundskeeper, led the first-years across the Black Lake in a fleet of small boats. They arrived at the massive oak doors of Hogwarts, which were opened by a stern-looking witch in emerald-green robes.
"The first-years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
Professor McGonagall led them into the Entrance Hall, explaining the Sorting Ceremony and the four houses. Her stern warnings about rule-breaking, particularly aimed at her own house of Gryffindor, left the new students trembling.
The ceremony began. Hannah Abbott became a Hufflepuff. Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw. Then, Daphne Greengrass was called. After a minute of deliberation, the Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" She shot Tom a happy, relieved smile as she joined the cheering table.
When Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, the hall erupted. The Slytherin table remained deathly silent.
In the tense quiet that followed, Professor McGonagall's voice was grim as she read the next name.
"Tom Riddle!"
A ripple of shock went through the staff table. Snape's face was a mask of hatred. Quirrell flinched as if struck. Dumbledore's expression was unreadable.
The Great Hall fell silent. Tom walked to the stool and placed the ragged hat on his head.
It hadn't even fully settled on his hair before it screamed, its voice echoing through the hall.
"SLYTHERIN!"
A stunned silence. Then, another, even louder shout from the Hat.
"A BORN SLYTHERIN!"
Tom was frozen, utterly bewildered. Slytherin? But I'm Muggle-born. I have no ambition beyond learning. How?
In full view of the entire school, he jammed the hat back onto his head.
"We need to talk," he thought fiercely at the hat.
"The Sorting is over, young wizard," a small voice replied in his mind.
"You barely touched my head! That was a mistake. I'm not a Slytherin!"
"The Hat is never mistaken," the voice said smugly. "Ambition to become the strongest. Unyielding will. And a magical core more ancient and pure than Salazar's own. Oh yes. If he were alive, he would beg to be your master. You belong in Slytherin."
"I demand to go to Ravenclaw!"
"Demand denied."
"Hufflepuff, then! I'm kind! I like to make friends!"
There was a pause, then the Hat's voice became gentle, almost pitying. "Child, a wizard must have self-knowledge. Accept who you are."
Tom's mind flooded with rage. "You wretched piece of cloth, I'll have you stitched into a dish rag!"
Sensing his murderous intent, the Hat shrieked again for all to hear. "SLYTHERIN! SLYTHERIN! TOM RIDDLE BELONGS IN SLYTHERIN!"
Professor McGonagall gently but firmly removed the hat from his head. "The ceremony is over, Mr. Riddle."
Numbly, Tom walked towards the Slytherin table. There was no applause. The students just stared, confused and wary. Then, a single pair of hands started clapping. It was Daphne. A few others hesitantly joined in.
Tom slid onto the bench beside her.
"I can't believe you're in Slytherin!" she whispered, her eyes shining with excitement. "This is wonderful!"
"Yes," Tom said, his voice hollow. "Wonderful."