Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)

Chapter 0-07

If you thought that the outside was impressive, then boy oh boy, were you in for a treat. The castle's entrance hall alone was nothing short of something straight out of a medieval fairy tale. The stone walls were lit with torches aflame, the ribbed vault was decorated with intricate swirls, and a magnificent marble staircase facing the main doors led to the upper floors. To the direct right was an imposing set of double doors that, according to professor McGonagall, led into the Great Hall.

About fifty of you were standing right before it. The doors were closed so you couldn't see what was waiting for you on the other side. All you knew was that your heart could barely handle the anticipation because in the one hour that you spent here you learned that if a school as majestic as Hogwarts called something great, then yes, it was going to be great. Probably blow you away in the most fantastic way imaginable.

"Welcome to our school," McGonagall reminded you of her presence. Now that there was light to see, you decided that the emerald green robes she was wearing suited her fairly well, and her black hair was hidden mostly under a pointed hat cocked to one side.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you will be sorted into your Houses. I have some things to arrange first so stay here and don't cause a ruckus," her sharp eyes moved towards a little group in the back. The stare she inflicted on them you could only describe as the I-know-you're-going-to-be-the-troublemakers-here kind of look. They lingered there for a few more seconds before she tore her gaze from them, walked away, and closed a smaller sized side-door behind her.

"So... What do we do now?" One female student asked.

"Cause ruckus?" Another suggested, causing a couple of others to snicker.

You couldn't, though. All you could manage was a miniscule grin while you tugged at your collar and fiddled with your skirt, plucking away at the threads on it to make yourself look more presentable. You peeked at your fellow first-years whose expressions all ranged from excitement to trepidation. Now you understood why some of them looked like they were about to face a three-headed dog. The Sorting Hat ceremony might as well have a worse outcome. What if you ended up in a House you really didn't like? You'd be stuck with it for the rest of your stay here!

"You're nervous?" A tilt of the brow followed Tom's question.

Eyes glancing back and forth between the doors to your doom and your friend, his question had gone completely lost on you. "Sorry?"

Shaking his head, Tom repeated himself. "I asked 'are you nervous?'"

You tried to keep your voice even. "What makes you think that?"

He deadpanned. Obviously you hadn't been as convincing as you hoped to be. "Because you can't stand still," he said, the obviously implied, and you opened your mouth.

"You are, (Y/N)," he murmured, cutting you off.

"I'm not nervous," your lie was even less convincing. "Why would I be nervous? Why would I be nervous to stand in front of so many people? Why would I be nervous, huh, Tommy? I'm not nervous! Nervous is not me?" Nonsensical rambling ensued and you couldn't stop your mouth from running a marathon.

You were nervous and even a blind person could see it. At least you weren't alone feeling that way. Most of the other children were unable to stand still same as you, constantly shuffling their feet. They checked themselves over and created a racket that was nearly loud enough to drown out the two voices on the other side of the door.

You didn't help the chaotic atmosphere when you tried pacing. How many more minutes until McGonagall returned? You needed a sip of water. Did they even have water here? Earlier, you overheard some older student talk about pumpkin juice and how it was apperently the best thing they'd ever tasted. You needed some of that.