A smirk was plastered to my face as I sat in the great hall with my timetable infront of me and a red apple my hand. Taking a bite of the forbidden fruit I flicked through a gigantic book Headmaster Dippet recommended before classes commenced.
'Hogwarts A History' by Bathilda Bagshot. Sounds like a name of a superhero's archnemesis or, a very interesting and actually competent author unlike the mortals.
Glancing up with a smirk from the book with a mouthfull of apple Dumbledore catches my eye, he's staring at me with such surmise I almost believe he knows who I am. He doesn't. A mewling quim like him couldn't have the brain cells to comprehend that I'm the Devil. The great and all-powerful celestial being that got kicked out of home at sixteen because I played in the garage and, destroyed his things. Dad, is a bit dramatic. Swallowing, I wink at Dumbledore who straightens his back and smiles politely at me. The gears were ticking in his head.
The Headmaster cleared his throat and the hushed whispers became hushed murmurs until there was a suspenseful silence. Dippet and I shared a knowing look.
Last night, I revived Myrtle Warren from the dead under a full moon using the dark forbidden powers that lurk in my veins. Dippet and Dumbledore handled the shell-shocked mortal who was sobbing and moaning, she should've been called Moaing Myrtle. They made a collective decision to hide the revival, to hide this miracle that I performed from the students, from Hogwarts. Myrtle Warren was still a dead girl in the alls of everyone else.
We had talked about my name, my last name in particular. Luxembourg was ironically shortened to Lux which gave me my original name; 'Lucille Lux.' I would be a new student escaping war torn europe that came in the night to find refuge, a story that was believable. The two men however, didn't want me using necromancy to revive anything else without adult supervision. I am over a millenia year old and I need supervision? It's bullshit.
Dippet clears his throat. "Hello, we have a new student joining us for the rest of the year and the year after that. Please be kind, she has fled her war-torn country."
Dippet's head casually turned to me causing numerous people to stare in unwanted pity at me, biting back a sneer I smiled uncomfortably.
"Miss Lux," He stepped away mystically revealing the sorting hat with all its new wrinkles and creases, "The sorting hat." The toothy smile he had on his face indicated some sort of excitement, smacking my lips I dusted off the new uniform I had recieved in the early hours of the morning and made my way to the sorting hat.
While walking the overwhelimg smell of sulphur and rotting flesh invaded my senses once again, turning my head emerald narrowed eyes met mine once again. It was Tom Riddle, winking I turned back around doing a little jog to the hat which sat on the wooden stool. The crinkly hands of Dippet lifted the brown leather hat and I gracefully slid onto the chait not exposing my self in anyway. The skirt was a few inches above the knee, a wonderful sinful addition to Hogwarts. I wiggled into the stool smiling sinisterly as the hat was being lowered slowly onto my head.
lower.
lower.
lower!
It collided into my skull and a piercing wail escaped its mouth, the students clutched their ears and anything that they were holding clattered into the ground. Sneering at the hat and unaffected by its scream I yanked it by its top, my long sharp nails digging into hits skin. The wailing scream from the hat stopped.
OW. The hat screamed inside my head sarcastically feigning hurt and annoyance, the grumpy old twat would get me caught in a hall filled with wizards.
"What are you doing?" I hissed through my teeth visibly angered by the scream, to the students it appeared as if the hat wasn't talking whatsoever.
Dumbledore got up marching over to take the unspeaking hat off my head, in protest Dippet held up on flat hand to prevent him from doing anything.
There wasn't any need for that-
"There wasn't any need for that little wailing pathetic scream."
I was adding some omnious atmosphere to your arrival, Miss Satan.
The students in the great hall were disturbed by the turn in events. Firstly, there was a wailing scream that caused everyone to drop their breakfast and Secondly, the Sorting Hat was sitting ontop of my head not speaking at all. The silence that Dippet had made before turned into hushed whispers and Riddle was looking at me victorius, he was happy seeing me embaressed and troubled. He was also curious, I could sense his emotions. It was strange, how someone who looked so angelic had an extensive amount of hate flowing within him.
"Hurry up then, there's been enough omnious atmosphere."
Poor little Devil, you have no idea how screwed you are.
I raised my eyebrows in confusion at what the Hat had said, a soft wintery chill racked my spine as his words echoed through my head. The words of the Sorting Hat were something to heed and at most times true. In simple mortal terms; I was fucked. I didn't know how I was fucked though.
"SLYTHERIN!"
He screamed out the name and the table at which I was sitting erupted in mischevious and dark smiles, they clapped in jubiliation at recieving a refugee and the girl who caused the Sorting Hat to scream. Their thoughts rang true within my head.
'Powerful.'
It was a hiss, this one thought. The hiss of a serpent, the language of Parseltongue which I granted to Salazar Slytherin. The thought of a descendant in my midths made my mouth water, if I could find whoever it was I culd feast upon their soul and retain a small fraction of my power.
Jumping up with glee I skipped over to the green decorated table, people clapped me on my back on the achievement of making it into Slytherin. The snobbish attitude in their tones evident, the people who cared about Blood purity were easy to pin point. Tom Riddle was definititely one of them, the way he conducted himself was exactly like me.
Look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under 't.
The light seemed to shine through the window blinding me, the atmosphere changed for omnious to calm. Peering through the blaring sunlight I glanced at the mortals that surrounded me, they had stopped moving along with everything else. The book Tom Riddle had in his hands was frozen midway through turning a page. As the holy sunlight hit my skin I hissed in pain and glanced upwards towards a man with pure white wings.
"Hello, Gabriel." I spat at his feet as he stood on the dining table with a sense of grandiose.
"Hello," he drawled, "Sister."
YOU ARE READING
DEVIL'S DEAL | Tom Marvolo Riddle HIATUS
Fantasía'I'm an angel and the devil. I'm as bad as it gets and good as it can be.' +++ In which Tom Marvolo Riddle meets the Devil in the form of a sixteen year-old woman.
