Harry Riddle - Love is a different time

Came to know

It seemed to Tom, behind the magic and the obvious wonderful structure and promised a sense of freedom it offered, there were some aspects that were similar to their environment back in London.

He would never be so brash as to say the similarities were close. Nothing could compare to the magnificence of the school. The first time they had walked into the secret passage of the greatest house in Hogwarts (as said by the perfect with dramatic reverence), even Tom couldn't help but turn his head around, look at everything, and feel a sense of pride, to be chosen, destined for such a privilege.

The hat had only touched his head for a second before it shouted his name. As if instinct, knowing he belonged.

The common room was a mixture of black and emerald green, large fireplaces with expensive leather couches, designs befitting royalty, emulating importance and power, and the smell of prestige and money.

What was better than the Slytherin Common Rooms? The castle itself. Tom and Harry never tired walking through the stone walls, feeling the tingling of magic under their skin and the grandeur of the structure. Every layout was laced with years of history, felt like a part of them, like something familiar, an old friend, a promise of a hundred stories laid in each stone waiting to be told. Every morning they would walk past the halls to class and it was still all exciting and new. From the dark dingy potion classes that had bubbles of cauldrons with such mystifying solutions, to the high charms class with its large diagrams of wand movement. Tom even enjoyed looking at the Forbidden Forest on the way to Herbology. The greenery was so vast and large and forbidding.

Everything was magical. Everything was magic.

As was Tom.

The Professors were miles beyond better than what Tom could ever hope for. He was trained to self learn all his life, cutting off the need for a guide, an overseer, finding teachers generally useless wireless speaking garble. His knowledge went beyond the classroom anyways.

But here, at Hogwarts, Professor's were useful in a way Tom hadn't realized before.

They could give you a quicker shortcut to master a spell, they could refer you to books that were promising and interesting and best of all, they could reward points.

"Ten points for Slytherin, Mr Riddle." Professor Herbert Beery, the herbology teacher, had awarded him points for successfully listing out all the properties of a Devil's Snare.

It was a new addictive feeling for Tom, to be acknowledged. Recognized for his talents. He would privately jot down every point he had gathered for his house in his black notebook.

They met Professor Dumbledore in transfiguration, and while the old wizard had eyed him speculatively too long for comfort, he too had acknowledged Tom's progress in turning the colour of his cup in five subsequent shades within a week, the fastest among his peers.

Harry had turned his cup green, then he had ruined the spell and conjured purple dots on his cup. Sending Aethan and himself into a fit of giggles.

Learning itself became better because of this. Now Tom had a goal and a reward for it. Tom had been relentless, studying late at night and as soon as he awoke the next day. He would feel the satisfying triumph of success for being able to do any spell or potion to do. His essays would always receive near-perfect marks and when questioned he knew every answer perfectly.

His talents caught the attention of his Head of House, Professor Slughorn, who was also his Potions Master.

"Look here! Our young Tom has surpassed everyone and shown us great talent with his potion-making skills. A perfect cure for boils, I believe it would even stop scarring!"