The Golden Age of Hollywood . Tom Riddle

Chapter 1

The red locomotive jerked forward and, whistling and spitting white fumes, left the platform 93/4, and, finally, Tom Riddle felt at peace. His trunk was above his head, his uniform pristine, with prefect badge shining brightly, pale wand between his fingers, all his followers near and windows with curtains closed. The train swayed gently and he was so calm he could have fallen asleep. He was lost in thought as compartment door suddenly slid open and woke him up. Annoyed, he turned his head to arrogantly announce to some uncoordinated first year that this compartment was occupied, but instead saw a very tall and slim girl about his age, wearing black Hogwarts robes without any house insignia. Her height was what probably surprised him the most. Thankfully, Rosier, sitting closest to the entry, took initiative.

"Compartment's full," he said snidely.

The girl chose to ignore him.

"May I take a seat here?"

Tom wanted to spit out 'no', but her face seemed familiar, so instead he asked "Who are you?"

"Norma Skapo," said the girl, and Tom cringed as he heard a posh British accent, which he now knew was the so called 'transatlantic' accent spoken by American actors. This reminded him of the movie he saw in summer, and the surname rang a bell.

"Skapo? Like that muggle actress?" He asked.

"Yes, she's my mother."

"So, you're what, a mudblood?" Rosier asked with a scrunched nose.

"No. My mother is a witch. My father was an American wizard. Italian, actually. He was killed long time ago," Norma replied without her smile faltering. "Now, whether you like it or not, I'll sit here, there's no more space left," she added and sat down gracefully opposite to Rosier, next to Avery.

The girl obviously had access to mother's makeup. Her lashes were long and curled, she wore lipstick, powder and strong perfume. The girl was well-cared for, and Tom felt jealousy rise a little- the collar of her school blouse was decorated with lace, so neat and intricate only pureblood witches had them. Her uniform was clean and very well fitting, her hair was long and braided in two braids, secured with big ribbons. She looked quite a lot like her mother- same small and sharp face, even more sharpened by upturned nose, big round eyes. However, Italian blood must have won somewhat, because she had black hair, dark eyes, round forehead and wide, thin mouth. Her eyebrows stood out- they were plucked and drawn, but arched, unlike her mother's.

"How did your father die, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Avery.

"Not at all. He was killed by Grindelwald in the early days."

"And why does your mother live among muggles?" asked Rosier. Malfoy had chosen to ignore the conversation completely, his nose theatrically buried in a book.

"She likes acting, and there isn't really anywhere to act in wizarding world."

No one answered. It was true, arts weren't popular here, except for rare musical performances organized by rich families.

"What are your names?" asked Norma after a while.

"Maximus Avery," Avery said quite cheerfully.

"Edmund Rosier," mumbled Rosier.

"Julien Nott."

"And the silent one in the corner?" said Norma leaning towards Malfoy. He slowly looked her head to toe and said with a sneer, "Abraxas Malfoy."

Then, wanting better effect, Tom waited for few seconds, straightened as much as he could while sitting, and said, confidently, "Tom Riddle."

Then, he shook unruly lock of hair falling on his forehead. This always made girls weak in the knees. However, Norma wasn't amused.