Xion

Two | The Sorting and a Curious Professor

Before getting off the train, Theo talked to Xion.

"You shouldn't tell people you're related to Voldemort," Theo advised.

"Why not?" Xion scoffed.

"Do you want people to hate you?"

Xion's expression became serious. "They would hate me for it?"

"You said you were proud of it. That's not normal, Xion," Theo urged.

"Why would they hate me?" Xion said again.

"They would hate you because they hated Voldemort," Theo explained, "because you're proud to be his son."

Xion realized he couldn't openly support his father's ideology or be proud to be his son. He would have to be like his father had been at his age: charming, 'kind,' charismatic, friendly, and polite – but also cunning, manipulative, and persuasive.

"Thanks," Xion said, for the first time in his life being genuinely grateful.

"Think nothing of it," Theo replied, smiling.

~

Entering the Great Hall for the first time was as magical as Xion's guardians, specifically Lady Mulciber, had described it to be. The ceiling. Stars shone down from the magical starry-night tapestry that was the Great Hall's enchanted ceilings, reflecting the outside sky.

After the Sorting Hat sang its song, the first years were sorted.

"Avery, Alice," called Deputy Headmaster Flitwick.

Alice stepped up and the Sorting Hat was placed on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She beamed as she went to the Gryffindor table.

"Green, Ethan."

"RAVENCLAW!"

The boy named Ethan looked nervous, going to the Ravenclaw table.

"Hawthorne, Felix."

"SLYTHERIN!"

The boy named Felix positively smirked as he walked over to the Slytherin table.

"Riddle, Xion."

A hush fell over the hall, and Xion noticed as he stepped up to the three-legged stool that a man with unruly black hair and round glasses was looking at him with curiosity from the High Table. Whispers began as the Hat fell over Xion's eyes.

Xion was startled when the Hat said quite plainly into his mind, 'Tom's son! Never thought I'd see the day.' The Hat chuckled inside his mind. 'Did I scare you? Apologies, young Riddle. Now, where shall I place you...?'

Xion didn't know. He wasn't as sure as he'd been this morning that he would be a Slytherin.

The Hat paused, and then declared...