Inside the castle gates was a विशाल Entrance Hall enclosed by stone walls, large enough to hold the entire Wool's Orphanage. Torches blazed in wrought-iron sconces, casting flickering light and shadow across the lofty ceiling. The air was filled with the scent of ancient stone, burning beeswax, and some indescribable trace of magic.
A stern-looking witch in emerald-green robes was waiting there. Later, they learned that she was Phyllida Spore, Head of Gryffindor and professor of Charms. She was small in stature, but her gaze was as sharp as a hawk's as she swiftly counted the new students.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor Spore said, her voice clear and penetrating, carrying unquestionable authority. "The start-of-term feast is about to begin, but first, you must be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting Ceremony is a very important tradition, because during your time at school, your House will be your home at Hogwarts."
She briefly introduced the four Houses—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin—and emphasized the qualities each represented. Tom listened with unusual focus, especially when he heard that Slytherin "valued ambition, cunning, pure blood, and... resourcefulness." A gleam of determination flashed through his eyes.
"The ceremony will be held before the entire school. While you wait, I suggest you straighten your appearance." With that, Professor Spore turned and led them across the Entrance Hall toward a massive oak door.
The muted hum of hundreds of people talking drifted through the door. The new students exchanged nervous looks and adjusted their brand-new robes. Tom instinctively straightened his back, angling his best profile where it could easily be seen. Ares, meanwhile, took a deep breath and felt the steady resonance of Eternal Cycle against his chest.
The oak doors slowly opened.
Dazzling golden light and a roaring wave of voices surged out at once, nearly making them dizzy. Hogwarts' Great Hall was more magnificent than they could have imagined. Students filled four long House tables, while thousands of candles floated overhead, illuminating the entire space. Real stars glittered across the velvety black ceiling, supposedly enchanted to reflect the sky outside.
The line of new students walked down the central aisle, feeling eyes upon them from every direction. Whispers rose as they passed, and many curious gazes settled on the distinctive Tom and Ares, with his unusual hair and mismatched eyes.
At the high table at the end of the Great Hall sat the school's professors. Ares immediately spotted Headmaster Armando Dippet in the center, with his silver hair, long beard, half-moon spectacles, and kindly face. Beside him sat Albus Dumbledore, dressed in crimson-purple robes, calm in expression but deep-eyed. Dumbledore's gaze swept over the new students and met Ares's for a brief instant. No emotion could be read in those blue eyes.
At the end of the staff table, Ares also saw a walrus-like, round-bodied wizard with a bushy honey-colored beard and extravagant silk robes—Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin.
The line stopped at the front, facing the entire school. A four-legged stool stood there, with a filthy, patched, pointed wizard's hat resting on top—the Sorting Hat.
Just as everyone held their breath, a slit along the brim opened like a mouth, and the hat began to sing. This year's song spoke of unity and the traits of the four Houses, ending with, "Place me firmly upon your head, and I shall see where you belong!"
Warm applause rang through 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.
One name after another was called, and the new students were assigned to different Houses. A silent boy named Avery and a girl named Rosier, whose eyes held a stubborn determination to restore her family's glory, were sorted into Slytherin. They would become members of Tom's early inner circle in the future. Billius Black, as expected, was sorted into Gryffindor.
At last—
"Tom Riddle!"
A low murmur swept through the Great Hall as many eyes focused on the astonishingly handsome boy with black hair and black eyes. Tom's expression remained calm as he stepped forward with steady strides and placed the grimy hat on his head.
The hat covered his eyes. Seconds passed, longer than they had for anyone before him. Tom's hands tightened slightly on his knees. The Great Hall became unusually quiet.
Ares could sense the restrained magic around Tom stirring faintly beneath the hat. He waited silently as well.
Finally, the Sorting Hat's slit opened, and it shouted in a voice clear as a bell:
"SLYTHERIN!"
The Slytherin table gave a perfunctory round of "enthusiastic" applause. Tom slowly removed the hat and returned it to the stool. Then he turned toward the Slytherin table, a perfectly appropriate smile blending humility and confidence appearing on his face. He walked toward the sea of silver and green with composed steps, as though he had been born to belong there.
Once Tom was seated, his gaze immediately shifted to Ares, who was still waiting. Deep in his black eyes was an almost imperceptible emotion, woven from anticipation and command.
Professor Spore's voice rang out again. "Ares Phoenix!"
The murmuring was louder than before. Ares's platinum-blond hair streaked with reddish-brown, his mismatched azure and charcoal-gray eyes, and the Golden Chain Pattern winding beneath his left eye were impossible to miss in the bright candlelight of the Great Hall. He could feel Dumbledore's gaze from the high table becoming even more focused.
He stepped forward, sat on the four-legged stool, and placed the Sorting Hat on his head. The hat was large enough to block his vision completely, plunging the world into darkness and... a strange touch against his thoughts.
A faint voice sounded beside his ear—or rather, inside his mind.
"Hmm... very difficult. Extremely difficult."
Ares held his breath.
"Filled with wisdom... ah, not mere cleverness, but true wisdom, the kind that sees into people's hearts. A thirst for knowledge. Ravenclaw would suit you well..."
No. Not Ravenclaw, Ares silently thought.
"...Oh? A powerful bond? For... someone? Interesting. Then courage? You have enough courage to fight in order to protect. Gryffindor would welcome you as well..."
Ares rejected it again in silence.
"...I see it. Light and dark... intertwined so deeply within your soul, even... stemming from your bloodline. How peculiar, how contradictory... Slytherin could help you grow stronger and fulfill your... ambition?"
This time, Ares did not immediately deny it. He thought of Tom, of their shared beginning and unknown ending. He thought of the power of Symbiosis of Light and Dark within him, and of the Eternal Cycle wand.
"I see your choice, child." The Sorting Hat's voice carried a trace of understanding and... perhaps admiration. "Not for ambition alone, but to... protect that one-of-a-kind bond, to guide that dangerous power toward another possibility? Even... to resolve an older grudge? A remarkable wish, though one filled with hardship and danger. Very well, then..."
The hat took a deep breath—if a hat could breathe—and then announced to the entire Great Hall:
"SLYTHERIN!"
Applause rose again from the Slytherin table. Ares removed the hat, returned it to its place, and walked toward the Slytherin table. He went straight to the empty seat beside Tom and sat down.
Tom did not look at him, his eyes fixed ahead, but beneath the table, his hand lightly brushed the back of Ares's hand before pulling away. It was a silent signal, meaning, We are still together.
The Sorting Ceremony continued, but Ares no longer had the mind to listen. Sitting beside the silver-and-green-decorated long table, he felt the curious, appraising, and friendly gazes of the Slytherin students around him. Looking up at the stars glittering above the Great Hall, his heart was utterly clear.
He had chosen this road, chosen to walk alongside darkness, not to fall into it, but to lead it across. Slytherin would be the battlefield where he put "protection" and "redemption" into practice.
Headmaster Dippet stood and offered a few words of welcome. Then the grand start-of-term feast began. The long tables were instantly piled high with an array of delicious food, and the atmosphere grew lively.
Tom elegantly picked up his knife and fork and began to eat while quietly speaking with an older student beside him who had taken the initiative to befriend him. He quickly blended into this new environment. His natural charm and impeccable manners kept him from seeming out of place even in the predominantly Pure-blood Slytherin.
Ares picked up a pie as well, his gaze sweeping across the magnificent Great Hall, across the professors at the staff table with their varied expressions, before finally resting on Tom's seemingly flawless profile beside him.
Life at Hogwarts had officially begun. And beneath the curtain of intertwined silver and green, the epic of light and dark quietly turned to its first page.
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