𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. | Harry Potter.

|| 02 ||

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The rest of the first years had already been sorted into their houses, all except for Y/n. She was told to hang back outside the Great Hall's doors for a bit, waiting for her turn. Honestly, she thought they'd completely forgotten about her.

"Everyone!" boomed Dumbledore, his beard shimmering in the candlelight. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I've got a few things to tell you lot, and one of them is rather serious, so I thought it best to get it out of the way before you get all distracted by the feast..."

Harry watched him beam at the students, feeling a bit calmer for the first time since that dementor had barged into their train compartment.

"Heard there's a new student starting." Ron whispered beside him, making Harry raise an eyebrow.

"Really? What year?" Harry whispered back.

"Think it's a third year, just like us." Ron replied in a hushed tone before Dumbledore's voice snapped their attention back to the front.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Before we get started, I just wanted to let you all know we've got a new student, a transfer. Now, we couldn't really say where she came from before, but she's here now."

Everyone turned to look, some whispering amongst themselves. "Right, Minerva, could you hand me the paper? Thank you." Dumbledore asked, and McGonagall stood and handed him the parchment.

Dumbledore unfurled it, reading the name aloud. "Let's welcome, uh.. Y/n Marvea- Riddle...!" A slight frown creased his brow, surprised by the last name.

"Riddle?" Harry uttered to himself, a mix of surprise and uncertainty. His head snapped towards the door, his eyes searching for the newcomer.

The towering doors of the Great Hall creaked open, and there, in the aisle between the long tables, walked the enigmatic young Riddle. Harry's eyes followed her every movement, curiosity etched on his face.

The teachers seated at the high table applauded, but Dumbledore and Hagrid's claps seemed hesitant, almost forced.

Dumbledore's mind was racing, for he knew the identity of this girl's father.

Professor McGonagall gestured for young Riddle to take a seat on the stool before her, her piercing gaze assessing her every move. "Four houses we have here, my dear: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. You will be sorted into one of them." she explained, her voice clear and authoritative.

As McGonagall was about to place the Sorting Hat on Y/n's head and before the hat could even settle, it already exclaimed.

"Better put her in the right house."

"S-SLYTHERIN!"

Y/n was startled in surprise and rose from the stool. The Slytherin table erupted in cheers, while the others just clapped politely.

"You may take your place at the Slytherin table." McGonagall instructed, gesturing towards it.

"Thank you." Y/n nodded slightly and made her way towards the table.

As she walked, McGonagall pointed her wand at her, and with a swift flick, Y/n's muggle clothing vanished, replaced by the emerald green and silver uniform of Slytherin.

She took a seat at the edge of the table, next to an unfamiliar face she dared not to make eye contact with.

Dumbledore's voice echoed through the grand space. His eyes scanned the sea of faces, casting an ominous shadow over the festive occasion.