Oh, Shit

17

Dippet was far different from Dumbledore, who was heavy on theatrics and such. He was grateful enough that he had managed to make it through the sorting, and even more so that Tom was besides him still. He supposed it was stupid to worry whether Tom would allow him to take his side, the other had made his claims quite obvious, something which Draco felt a bit of a warmth and a chill at the same time when it regarded such a thing. The Dark Lord found him pleasing enough to take him under his wing, it was something that the Lord of his own time had done as well, but of a different nature. Tom clearly had his wits about him at the moment, which was more than what could be said for...well...It was obvious enough that something had caused the Dark Lord of his time to go from calculating and cold to...insane and calculating. Still terrifying, still intelligent, still smart, but just sheerly insane. Draco was glad, to an extent, that this version of the Dark Lord was as sane as he was, and though it was clear he was not what one could consider normal, by any shape of the term, he was at least not crazy like he had been in Draco's original time.

It took Dippet seconds to welcome the students, and start the feast, unlike Dumbledore who liked to make a long and winding speech, or something that simply made no sense and caused everyone to roll their eyes. Tom wasted next to no time shoving his plate full of food and gently nudging it in front of him before serving himself. Draco had to admit, that he was a bit surprised about that. He knew that Tom regarded him as some sort of possession, considering that was pretty much what Tom was capable of, and it had been made even more obvious during their Occlumency lessons that Draco had insisted on. It was not the same sort of obsessive feel that the Dark Lord of his time had, which Draco was grateful for, but it was obsessive nonetheless. Draco did not even understand what it was that appealed to Tom more with him than someone else, but then again, he supposed it did not really matter, in the end. It just felt odd, and concerning to a degree. Though he could do nothing about it. It was not his fault that he literally got dropped off before Tom's orphanage. There was nothing for it in the end.

The dinner was hushed at the Slytherin table. It was something Draco noticed, because it was fairly rare during his time, though it still often happened, especially as the semester dragged on, and particularly the last year that he had went. Umbridge really messed things up at Hogwarts, and while Draco may have taken her side (it was always wise to side with a ministry official at Hogwarts if they were there for the reason that Umbridge had been) it did not mean that any of his counterparts actually liked her. As much as they may have played that up, and many of them were happy that Draco had when things began to go to shit halfway through the semester, it had meant that they were practically immune to anything she did. She straight tormented a lot of the students, ripping all clubs and fun, but Draco had managed to get her to allow the Slytherin house a lot of leniency in that regard, something that would have never happened had he not joined her early on.

It was that year that this reminded him of. Everyone was silent, the atmosphere was tense, it was almost as though Slytherin was in a different dimension, rather than a different table in a bustling hall. The other tables were talking, laughing, and they were silent. He knew it was because of the drama. A strange Malfoy came in out of nowhere in the middle of the Hogwarts schooling and managed to somehow captivate the Slytherin King. It was not his fault, truly, but he knew that this was merely the reaction that came with this sort of information. It happened often enough in his own time, though not to such a vast degree and not nearly something like this.

It did not take long for dinner to end, the treats to be finished, and goblets emptied. Dippet stood the Head Boy and Girl of each house up and to the head of each table, before directing the first years to leave with the Head boy and girl. Personally, Draco felt it was far more efficient than what Dumbledore did, which was essentially having all of the prefects struggle to find the first years and the head boy and girl did...something. He knew that the Slytherin Head boy and girl always aided in rounding up the 1st years, but at least this way everyone would know who was in charge of the prefects that year. The badges alone made it somewhat obvious, but first years did not know that. He had always found it annoying to see the first years and prefects scrambling towards each other in the other houses. Slytherin house had a bit more decorum and the first years gathered themselves together, but it was not so with any of the others.

"We are leaving now," Tom whispered in his ear, stepping out of the bench and pulling Draco up with him, arm once more latching around his waist to keep him close. Abraxas, Walburga, and Orion circled around him, along with a few other notable purebloods. Draco vaguely recognized several of them, but it had been a long while since he was required to keep up with the parents of his father's generation of purebloods. The fact that he recognized any of them, outside of the ones that he was directly related to, was almost a miracle. He was fairly sure he noticed Theodore's grandfather walking ahead with the first years, though was not entirely sure.

They made their way to the common room, taking the short cut. The Head Boy and Girl would take the first years around a bit of a bend, pointing out a few of the wings that you had to take in order to get to the common room. It helped in ensuring they somewhat knew where they were. They would also be taught a spell that would tell them where they were at any given moment, well, if the spell had been invented yet. Draco recalled learning it his first year, which had been unendingly helpful. He had been quite grateful for it. Meanwhile, the pile of students, lead by himself and Tom, along with the Malfoy and Blacks, reached the common room with no difficulty.

"Salazaar," The password spoken, and received, the snake echoed around the doorway, leaving an ornate cedar wood door. Draco noted with some alarm that it was a different type of wood now than in his time. Perhaps they had just changed it due to...well he did not know really. In his time the wood was ebony, not cedar. It drew a more dreary crowd but still. Tom pulled Draco into the common room and down the stairwell to sit on the green couches before Salzaar's portrait. Draco leaned into his side, tired, though he was not sure why. Perhaps the day's mental toll was just too much for him now, though that simply did not make sense. he had gone through far more than that.