TWO

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"Before we start the sorting of the first years, we have a seventh year joining us from Durmstrang: Mr. Thomas Gaunt. Stand please, Tom, so we can see you."

Tom rose silently, his gaze swooping over his fellow classmates to gauge their reactions. Many began to whisper, especially those in Slytherin, who probably recognized his surname. He made a mental note of a particular group sitting toward the center of the Slytherin table, one of which had a head of white-blonde hair, before sitting down. 

He was no stranger to being alone - he preferred it, really - but he held a degree of fondness for the people he had left in his own time, some of whom he would genuinely consider friends. There was no doubt in Tom's mind that the blonde was a Malfoy, and he was curious to see what this ancestor of Abraxas's would be like. Given the timeline, it was possible that the Slytherin staring at him was Oberon Malfoy, Abraxas's youngest uncle. 

Beyond that, no one really stood out to him. He kept to himself for the remainder of the feast, watching the sorting with far more interest than usual (Lilibeth Spencer-Moon had just been sorted into Ravenclaw, who was Leonard Spencer-Moon's younger sister. Leonard was the current Minister in 1945 ... did this mean that it was possible for him to be a student? Tom would certainly have to find out).

He did notice that students took longer to eat than usual, chatting away amicably. Some Ravenclaws had even joined the Slytherin table, and to his absolute horror he saw three Slytherin girls sitting with Gryffindors. Never in his seven years of being a student there had he seen The Great Hall so lively. 

Tom decided to leave with the first years and followed them with his hands clasped behind his back, standing over most of them by at least half a foot. No one tried to speak to him, yet he was acutely aware that he was being watched by the older students. A bothersome feeling of self-consciousness began to sink in; he hadn't been the odd-one-out in a long time.

"This is the Slytherin common room. The entrance is here-" the prefect slapped the stone wall "-marked by this snake engraving in the stone. To enter, you have to say a password. This weekend it's "Slytherin", but starting Monday the password will change to something more challenging. Questions?"

The first years stared blankly at him, shifting around nervously.

"Great. I'm Axander Rowle and this lovely broad is Lesedi Osei, your other prefect. If you need anything, come to us. The Head Boy also happens to be a Slytherin, but only bother him if you really need to. You'll meet him eventually."

When the common room entrance appeared upon Axander's use of the password, the students pushed forward. Tom was the last to break through, far less eager than the first years to see the Slytherin common room, which was old news to him at this point.

While the room itself looked no different, the atmosphere, much like The Great Hall, felt substantially brighter. Large masses of students stood around, laughing and catching up, roughhousing and gossiping and recounting animated tales of their summers. 

"Gaunt!"

Tom snapped out of his observations and his eyes flew over to the source of the voice. A tall, dark-skinned boy was beckoning for him to come over. He stood next to the one that Tom assumed to be a Malfoy, a few others, and - surprisingly - a Ravenclaw.

Happy that someone finally acknowledged his presence, Tom broke away from the awe-struck first years to join the group of older students. 

"There hasn't been a transfer student here since 1902, 'specially not one of prominence."

Tom rose a brow.

"Haven't heard the name Gaunt in a while. They've managed to even freak the Blacks out with their inbreeding ... and that says something."

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