The Silver-Green Intertwined Long Table

Inside the castle gates was a vast, stone-walled Entrance Hall, large enough to hold the entire Wood Orphanage. Torches blazed in iron sconces, casting flickering shadows across the high ceiling. The air smelled of ancient stone, burning beeswax, and an indescribable magical essence.

The stern-looking witch in emerald robes—whom they later learned was Head of Gryffindor and Charms Professor Phyllida Spore—waited there. She was short in stature, but her gaze was as sharp as a hawk's as she quickly counted the new students.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor Spore said, her voice clear and penetrating, carrying an undeniable authority. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before that, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is a very important tradition, because while you are here, your house will be your home at Hogwarts."

She briefly introduced the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, emphasizing the qualities each represented. Tom listened with exceptional focus, and when he heard that Slytherin "values ambition, cunning, pure blood, and... resourcefulness," a gleam of determination flashed in his eyes.

"The ceremony will take place in front of the entire school. I suggest you tidy yourselves up while you wait." With that, Professor Spore turned and led them through the Entrance Hall toward a massive oak door.

From beyond the door came the faint buzz of hundreds of voices. The new students exchanged nervous glances, adjusting their new robes. Tom instinctively straightened his back, angling his best side to be easily observed. Ares took a deep breath, feeling the steady resonance of the Eternal Cycle against his chest.

The oak doors swung open.

A dazzling golden light and a roar of voices surged out, almost dizzying. The Great Hall of Hogwarts was more magnificent than imagination could conjure! Four long house tables were packed with students, thousands of floating candles illuminated the space, and the velvet-black ceiling sparkled with real stars—enchanted, it was said, to reflect the sky outside.

The line of new students walked forward down the central aisle, feeling the gazes from all around. Whispers rose as they passed, many eyes curiously fixed on Tom, whose bearing was unique, and on Ares, with his unusual hair and eye colors.

At the head table sat the school's faculty. Ares immediately spotted the silver-haired, long-bearded Headmaster Armando Dippet in the center, his kindly face framed by half-moon spectacles, and beside him, Albus Dumbledore, calm-eyed and deep in thought, wearing plum-colored robes. Dumbledore's gaze swept over the new students, meeting Ares's eyes for a brief moment, his blue irises revealing nothing.

At the far end of the staff table, Ares also noticed a plump, walrus-like wizard with a fluffy honey-colored beard, dressed in opulent silk robes—Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin.

The line stopped at the front, facing the entire school. A four-legged stool stood there, and on it rested a dirty, patched, pointed wizard's hat—the Sorting Hat.

Just as everyone held their breath, a tear along the hat's brim opened like a mouth, and it began to sing. This year's lyrics revolved around unity and the traits of the four houses, ending with, "Put me on your head and I'll see, where you belong to be!"

Loud applause filled the Great Hall. Professor Spore stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, come forward, put on the hat, and sit on the stool to be sorted," she announced.

Names were called one by one, and the new students were sorted into their houses. A silent boy named "Avery" and a girl named "Rosier," whose eyes held a fervent devotion to restoring her family's legacy, were both sent to Slytherin—they would become core members of Tom's early inner circle. Billius Black, as expected, was sorted into Gryffindor.

Finally—

"Tom Riddle!"

A low murmur rippled through the hall as many eyes focused on the strikingly handsome black-haired, black-eyed boy. Tom's expression was calm as he walked forward with steady steps, put on the grimy hat.

The hat covered his eyes. Seconds ticked by, longer than for anyone before him. Tom's hands on his knees tightened slightly. The hall grew unusually quiet.

Ares could sense the restrained magic around Tom stirring faintly beneath the hat. He waited silently as well.

At last, the Sorting Hat's tear opened, and it declared in a clear, unmistakable voice:

"Slytherin!"

The Slytherin table offered a perfunctory 'enthusiastic' round of applause. Tom slowly removed the hat, placed it back on the stool, and turned to face the Slytherin table, a perfectly composed smile blending humility and confidence on his face. He walked toward the sea of silver and green, his steps unhurried, as if he had always belonged there.

Once seated, Tom's gaze immediately sought out Ares, still waiting. In the depths of his black eyes was a barely perceptible mix of expectation and command.

Professor Spore's voice rang out again: "Ares Phoenix!"

The murmuring grew louder than before. Ares's platinum-blond hair streaked with russet, his mismatched eyes of azure and charcoal gray, and the winding golden chain pattern beneath his left eye were all exposed under the bright candlelight of the Great Hall, drawing everyone's attention. He could feel Dumbledore's gaze sharpen from the head table.

He stepped forward, sat on the four-legged stool, and placed the Sorting Hat on his head. The hat was large, blocking his vision entirely, plunging the world into darkness and... a strange, probing mental touch.

A faint voice sounded in his ear—or rather, in his mind:

"Hmm... very difficult. Extremely difficult."

Ares held his breath.

"Full of wisdom... oh, not cleverness, but true, insightful wisdom. A thirst for knowledge—Ravenclaw would suit you well..."

Ares thought silently: No, not Ravenclaw.

"...Oh? A strong bond? For... someone? Interesting. Then, courage? You have enough courage to fight for protection—Gryffindor would welcome you too..."

Ares denied it again in his mind.

"...I see it, light and dark... so deeply intertwined in your soul, even... stemming from your bloodline. How peculiar, how contradictory... Slytherin could help you grow strong, fulfill your... ambition?"

This time, Ares did not immediately refuse. He thought of Tom, of their shared starting point and unknown destination. He thought of the Symbiosis of Light and Dark within him, of the Eternal Cycle wand.

"I see your choice, child." The Sorting Hat's voice carried a note of understanding—and perhaps admiration? "Not for pure ambition, but to... protect that unique bond, to guide that dangerous power toward another possibility? Even... a desire to resolve an older grudge? A noble wish, but fraught with difficulty. Very well, then..."

The hat took a deep breath—if a hat could breathe—and then announced loudly to the entire hall:

"Slytherin!"

Applause rose again from the Slytherin table. Ares removed the hat, placed it back, and walked toward the Slytherin table. He went straight to the empty seat next to Tom and sat down.

Tom did not look at him, his gaze fixed forward, but beneath the table, his hand lightly brushed the back of Ares's hand, a touch that came and went in an instant. It was a silent signal, meaning "we are still together."

The Sorting Ceremony continued, but Ares no longer paid close attention. He sat at the silver-and-green-decorated table, feeling the curious, evaluating, or friendly glances from the surrounding Slytherins, watching the stars twinkle above the Great Hall, his mind clear and calm.

He had chosen this path, chosen to walk alongside the darkness—not to sink, but to guide. Slytherin would be his battlefield for "protection" and "redemption."

Headmaster Dippet stood and gave a few words of welcome, and then the grand start-of-term banquet began. The tables were instantly laden with a dazzling array of food, and the atmosphere grew lively.

Tom elegantly picked up his knife and fork, beginning to eat while engaging in low conversation with an older student who had proactively approached him, quickly integrating into this new environment. His natural charm and impeccable manners kept him from seeming out of place even among the Pure-blood-dominated Slytherin.

Ares also picked up a piece of pie, his gaze sweeping across the magnificent hall, over the professors at the staff table with their varied expressions, and finally settling on Tom's seemingly flawless profile beside him.

Life at Hogwarts had officially begun. And beneath the silver-and-green curtain, the epic of light and dark was quietly turning its first page.