Chapter Text
“If you had a chance my child would you help him? See all his carnage, this man who fashioned himself a monster, would you stare it in the eyes and still choose it, choose him?”
“I will do what I always have I think, do what I have always been made to do.”
“You have the chance to be more.”
“I’ve never wanted to be more.”
“No, you haven’t. So, what will you do?”
“Choose him.”
“As you wish, Master.”
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The feast was as its always been, glorious with the option of gluttony, a choice beyond war rations and starvation. Yet just as annoying as always, with the chatter of meaningless purebloods who think their words hold some semblance of importance to his attention, and yet he smiles, he nods and offers bland responses. Enough engagement for them to feel seen, but minimum to remind them of their place, a place far below him. The first years were at the tail ending of their sorting, a long arduous process, when he finally noticed an outlier.
He feels some semblance of embarrassment at the oversight, a figure that is obviously out of place amongst the crowd of short legged and scrawny first years, an observation he should have spotted instantly.
He observes the figure and comments,”Another transfer perhaps.” His remarks drew the attention of the group to the supposed transfer student.
“There have been more plentiful recently,” Abraxas remarks.
Corvus scowls at the observation and speaks up, “Another muggleborn probably, how annoying.”
Orion chimes in “I wouldn’t be so sure about that one Corvus, look at the hair and the features, a Potter if I’ve ever seen one. A bastard is most likely.”
“Or perhaps we’ll see when he’s sorted,” Tarben comments dryly.
As Tarben finishes his sentence the student's name gets called out, as if only waiting to prove his point.
“Harrison Evans!”
Tom doesn’t expect much from the boy, none of the transfers so far has made it into Slytherin and he highly doubts a boy with a muggle name would be given the option. Evans strides to the stool as if preparing for war, back straight and no regard for the whispers around him. Interesting.
Avery leans over to Corvus and nudges his shoulder,”Any bets on which house he’ll join.” Corvus scowls at the action but plays along, the fools the both of them.
“Gryffindor.”
Orion leans in, mindful of the food, “ I don’t know Corvus, he has that mystic about, I believe he’ll be a raven.”
Corvus looks at Orion with disdain, “Awfully contrary tonight aren’t we Black.” Orion shrugs, such a careless gesture from someone of his class, and smirks. “Perhaps, what about you Tarben?”
“You’re guess is as good as mine,” Tarben says with reluctance.
Tom paid no true mind to their antics and spent his time observing the idle figure of Evans. The sorting hat doesn’t quite cover his entire face but enough to obscure his eyes from observation. He’s a slip of a thing, short and more than a touch too thin, starved perhaps. His hands rest in his lap, clenched and twitchy. The hat has been on for a few minutes at this point, longer than most, another thing to remark about him.
It takes about another minute before the hat finally comes to a conclusion and yells,”Slytherin!”
Evan stands up and tension lines his shoulders, he’s poised as if ready to attack, as if he expects the worst to happen. He approaches the table just as Abraxas makes room for him, not out of the generosity of his heart but more so to the agenda to interrogate him. Amusing, and not at all surprising. He sits down reluctantly and gives them all a shrewd look. Orion, not one to let an opportunity slip by, is the first one to take a bite out of Evans.
“So, Evans, what brings you to Hogwarts.?” Orion laces his words with a playful demeanor but you can’t quite miss the disdain that drips off his tongue as he says Evans name. As Evans fills up his plates he responds in a measured tone, “A train, probably the same one that you came on.” Instead of looking offended at his response Orion looks delighted, but he’s always been somewhat of a loose cannon; always chasing the most exciting thing, and it seems he found his next play toy.
With Evans so close he can finally get a clear view of him. He expected someone more bland, a face to match the name, but up so close to the subject Tom couldn’t help but find him striking. Orion was right about the Potter hair, he had wild black curls dancing every which way, but had streaks of white twined in with his fringe, very peculiar. Right where the white hair sat was a scar, it stretched through his left eyebrow and down to his eye, a lightning bolt, another thing to mark him as other. Glasses, tan skin and thick eyebrows he would fit in right next to Charles Potter, a graduated Gryffindor a year prior. While his face held soft features—a difference with Potter— there was something hard about the way his face was set. As if he has seen the world for what it was and was left dissatisfied and worn.
Corvus looked like he swallowed something sour at Evans' response, no doubt offended that someone of lesser blood would speak to them in such a manner. “Quite the tongue you have on you,” Corvus commented. Evans looked Corvus' way and raised an eyebrow, “Maybe.” You could see the clench of Corvus' jaw all while Abraxas finally decided to join the conversation. Abraxas plastered on a charming smile, "Excuse him, he’s not one for humor. I'm Abraxas Malfoy by the way.”
Evans gave Abraxas a bland smile, “ Charmed, I’m Harrison Evans.” Everyone picked up the cue and started introducing themselves.
“Orion Black, I have a feeling we’ll get along well.” Evans' face remained impassive but there was something akin to grief etched in his face while looking at Orion.
“Perhaps,” Evans replied dubiously.
“Tarben Nott,” Tom was not surprised by Tarben's curt introduction, he has always been a person of very little words.
“Corvus Lestrange, I’m sure you’ll learn to make quick work of minding your tongue.”
“Reign Avery, but please just call me Avery.”
“Ednard Rosier.”
At this point all eyes laid upon Tom, he turned to Evans and gave him his most charming grin, the grin he knows that makes people into putty. “Tom Riddle, I’m the appointed prefect it would be my duty and privilege to help you settle in.” Tom's voice came out like honey, coaxing, sly and all incredibly false, not that Evans would know that.
Evans didn’t react as most would, people would fall over themselves just to talk to him, only for Evans to look at him like he wanted to set him on fire. It took Tom aback, but with such intense focus on him he finally noticed Evans eyes. Green. Green like ripe spring and the killing curse, they bored into him with their unnatural color, seemingly seeing all the parts of Tom left hidden. It itched at Tom, tackled his anger, the lack of expected reaction, the intense reaction no matter how masked. Harrison had all the makings of a mystery waiting to be solved, and Tom, well, he’s always been one for a chase.
Evans' eyes flickered along the group, “A pleasure to meet you all, I’m sure.” The dry response was quickly noted by Corvus and Ednard, offended as always and Orion looked like he was ready to dissect Evans right then and there.
“So what year will you be in?” Orion questioned.
Evans looks up from his plate, a plate filled with light foods, “I’ll be joining the sixth year.”
Abraxas held a dubious look on his face, “really?” and then coughed. Evans gave him a withering look and ignored the response. Orion paid Abraxas no mind and continued on, “You’ll fit in right with us then.” A pretty lie if he's ever heard one. There is nothing simple about fitting into Slytherin especially a year with such an established hierarchy,
The rest of the feast went on in a similar fashion, Orion prattling on and Corvus’ glowering looks and Evans mild responses. The feast stretched on till Dippit finally called for its end, just as the younger students were being led by Leona Selwyn, he turned to Evans to benevolently show him the way,
“Come Evans, I figured you wouldn’t want to join the first years.”
The rest of the boys stood up as well and gathered together to make it to the common room. Evans stayed near the back of the pack, eyes shrewd and assessing. The walk felt short with little commentary
on Tom’s part, just the necessities and pleasantries, he was more focused on the presence of the newcomer. The other boys danced around the transfer but kept conversation going, it wasn’t long till they reached the entrance just a few paces before the younger years. Tom turned to look at the boys and spoke, “The password currently is Mudworts, Evans the password changes every two weeks, so do try to keep informed of the notice board.”
Ednard snorted and shot Evans a look, “or don’t, it would be a shame for you to embarrass yourself so early on.”
Evans' eyes landed on Ednard and gave him a bland look, not at all looking offended at the jab, “I sure you would be delighted.” Ednard didn’t respond but merely gave a cruel grin, how charming.
He didn’t waste his time entertaining the fools and continued on in the entrance and made his way into the common room. His eyes landed on Evans who's eyes were tracking everything in the common room, his face held a look of sadness and longing, for what Tom couldn't tell but it was curious nonetheless. Tom turned towards the transfer student and pointed towards the dorms, “The girls are on the right, boys on the left. Each person shares a room with one other person, I have yet to check to see who you’ll be sharing with but I advise to be respectful of each other's space or you might make an enemy or two.” Tom made his light, charming, joking almost but he was far from joking. He wonders if he should expect conflict, heaven forbid Evans gets a room Ednard, he has a feeling they would not leave the room unscathed.
Evans gave one last long look at the common room and its people, “Well if that is all I will be on my way to bed.” He made no sign of waiting for anyone's response and left, back straight and all casual defiance. All of his followers looked at him searching for his response, his thoughts on this loose end of a transfer student. Evans, an interesting boy, but how long could he stay interesting.
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It wasn’t till all his Prefect duties and his more informal duties were complete that Tom was able to make his way to his dorm for the night.Hogwarts was something he spent longing for while at the orphanage and to finally have a room that didn’t smell of must and mildew was a privilege that his silly pureblood puppets wouldn’t ever understand. Tom strides down the hall with all the dorm rooms and finally landed on his. On the place an innocent little name was engraved along with his.
Harrison Evans.
The curious kept getting more curious, he paid no mind to these thoughts though and opened the door silently. The dorm light was off—to be expected—and he wasted no time casting a dim lumos. Evans curtains were drawn shut and even from here he could detect spells and wards around his bed, a paranoid little thing he seemed to be. He let his eyes linger for just a second longer, the desire to untangle the spells and see what Evans was possibly hiding was tempting, but he was a master of all things and patience was one of those things.
Tom didn’t spend any more time falling and got ready to retire for the night. Methodically undressed, settled all things in their perfect spot and put his own set of spells and wards around his bed for the night, Evans was not the only cautionary one in this dorm, for many good reasons. He closed the curtains around his bed once he was all settled and spent no more time on anything but going to sleep, and yet a haunting shade of green was imprinted behind his eyes and saturated his dreams.