Dance with the Devil

"Lyra Dove!" Lyra nervously approached the tired looking hat, and smoothed her skirt as she sat on the stool. All of Hogwarts watched in anticipation, eager to see where this pretty young witch would be placed. As the hat was dropped over her blonde curls, she began to feel it invading her thoughts.

"I sense intelligence beyond comparison; You would do well in Ravenclaw... But then there is a drive to do incredible things, and a power strong as Merlin himself. Pure blood flows through your veins, yes... Yes, it would fit you quite nicely..." It paused, and she wondered if it had a flair for the dramatic.

"Slytherin!" it called out, and there was a cheer from the Slytherin table.
Once Lyra was seated, there was really only one more name that she had interest in listening for. She waited in anticipation for the old professor to call out his name. It felt like an eternity for the woman to work through her alphabetical list.

"Tom Riddle!" She finally read. The dark haired boy stepped forward. Tom Riddle. How perfectly simple. The hat was placed on his head, and without a moments hesitation it shouted out "Slytherin!"

Stuck together, Lyra supposed.