The moment they passed through the barrier, the noise changed. A deep-red steam engine clanked to a halt at a platform packed with young witches and wizards. A gleaming sign on its side read "Hogwarts Express."
On one side of the wall was the Muggles' chaos; on the other, the bustle of the wizarding world. Tom sniffed and grumbled inwardly, At least it smells better than Wool's Orphanage. I'll make do. It's not like this is the first time I've started this magical journey as "Tom Riddle."
The Hogwarts Express wouldn't leave until eleven. Tom had arrived early, and there weren't many students aboard yet. He couldn't be bothered to head for the middle carriages, so he went straight to the very last one. Out of sight, out of mind. Better to avoid the crowds later and enjoy some peace and quiet—not that he could even slack off in peace otherwise.
Tom ducked into a compartment in the second-to-last carriage, picked a seat at random, and tossed his trunk onto the luggage rack. It nearly made the rack collapse. Then he pulled out Ingenious Responses to Myriad Magics and flipped through it.
Andros's voice suddenly exploded in his head, full of surprise. "This bloody train is hiding in a Muggle station? Aren't they afraid someone will spot it and spill the secret?"
Tom scoffed without even lifting his eyes. "What else? The Wizarding World hasn't been exposed, and it's not because we're good at hiding.
"This is the largest Muggle-Repelling Charm operation in history. Those Ministry of Magic idiots probably don't know how to do anything but cast that charm. They come here every day to clock in and cast it, more punctually than Muggles going to work."
"We didn't have a lousy department like that in my day." Andros's voice held a mix of ruefulness and indignation. "Still, I suppose it's convenient. They can keep an eye on those troublemaking dark wizards and stop them from ruining our reputation."
"Keeping dark wizards in check is self-preservation." Tom closed his book, then opened it again, his tone casual but his words hitting home. "Muggles today aren't the fools who worshipped wizards as gods back then. If we provoke them, we might not come out on top. We could end up unable to protect ourselves."
Andros fell silent. He didn't discriminate against Muggles, but wizarding arrogance was etched into his bones. He had been one of the strongest of his time, after all. How could he respect Muggles who couldn't even fight back? He'd never imagined that the Muggles who'd once been at the mercy of others could threaten wizards. Now he understood the Ministry's rules: they were basically just cowering, afraid that if they were discovered, they wouldn't survive.
Tom saw that Andros wasn't going to say anything and couldn't be bothered to keep talking. He went back to pretending to read. He had no intention of studying magic today. Opening the space was just a chance to get out and show the old relic the modern world, so he'd stop going on about how powerful he'd been back in his day. Tom was sick of hearing it.
The train gradually grew busier. With only a few minutes left before departure, the compartment door clattered open, nearly slamming into the wall.
A little girl with golden curls poked her head in. Her long lashes fluttered, and her big eyes widened when she realized someone was inside. She gave a startled shiver, but still steeled herself and came in, clutching the hem of her clothes as she asked quietly, "Can I sit here? All the other compartments are full."
"Go ahead. I'm not stopping you." Tom's words were gentlemanly enough, but his actions were anything but. As he helped her with her trunk, he deliberately shoved it toward the edge of the rack. The girl gasped, and only then did he slowly steady it. He couldn't help feeling pleased with himself. Teasing a girl is more fun than reading.
Tom glanced at the trunk. It looked ordinary, but dark-gold trim had been embroidered along its edges, and there was a colorful crest in one corner. It was probably her family's coat of arms. She was obviously a Pure-blood young lady, just like Malfoy, with that unmistakable air of "my family has money." She'd probably put on airs about her blood status.
After thanking him, the girl sat opposite. Her gaze lingered on Tom's profile as she thought, He's really handsome. The moment the thought crossed her mind, she startled herself. Her baby-faced cheeks turned scarlet, and she hurriedly looked away—only to sneak another glance at him a moment later.
Tom Riddle had never been anything less than handsome. His black curls fell over his forehead. His eyes seemed fixed on his book, but his attention had already drifted out the window.
As the girl watched, she felt jealous. Why are boys' features more delicate than mine? He's just as pretty as my sister Astoria!
When Tom didn't say anything, the girl gathered her courage and struck up a conversation. "Hello, I'm Daphne Greengrass, a first-year. What about you? Are you a first-year too?"
Tom closed his book and glanced at her, his tone languid. "Riddle. Tom Riddle. I'm a first-year too."
Daphne furrowed her brow and thought for a long moment, but couldn't recall any Pure-blood family named Riddle. She asked cautiously, "Are you a Half-blood? Or Muggle-born?"
Tom shrugged, looking utterly unconcerned. "Who knows? My parents dumped me at Wool's Orphanage when I was little. I might be a Muggle, or I might be a Squib. It's all the same. What's wrong, Miss Greengrass? Regretting sitting with me?"
Of course, he knew about the Greengrass family, one of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight Pure-blood families." They were forever pretending to be understated and refined, no different from Malfoy. They'd probably start spouting nonsense about the nobility of their bloodline. Just thinking about it annoyed him.
To his surprise, Daphne hurriedly waved her hands and rushed to explain. "No, don't misunderstand! I don't care about blood status. My mum says all Pure-bloods have Muggle relatives among their ancestors. There's nothing to be proud of. I'm just curious about the Muggle world. I've never met a Muggle before."
Tom was taken aback, then smiled and apologized frankly. "I was overthinking it. Sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions about you."
"That's all right!" Daphne shook her head and leaned closer, her eyes sparkling. "My sister Astoria likes Muggle fashion magazines, but we only have one old book. It's been out of date for more than ten years. If you go to the Muggle world, could you buy a few for me? I'll pay you!"
"Sure, but you'll have to wait until Christmas," Tom replied casually. A few scattered memories crossed his mind: Daphne's younger sister, Astoria, was forgettable; she ended up with Malfoy, and she died young after falling ill. He kept those useless details to himself and went along with Daphne's conversation.
The whole way, Daphne did the asking. Her questions were all about the little details of Muggle life: how Muggles dressed, how they ate, and so on. She listened intently, even taking out paper and a pen to write everything down, muttering that she had to tell her sister.
Watching her earnestness, Tom thought with a quiet laugh, She really cares about her sister. Much better than those fake Pure-bloods.
Before they knew it, the train had started up and was clattering toward the Scottish Highlands. The noise outside was deafening, but the two of them were so engrossed in conversation that they barely noticed.
Just as Tom was telling Daphne that "Muggles have to say a spell to ride a bicycle," Andros's voice popped up again, confidently placing a bet. "I'll bet one Galleon that this little girl definitely likes you—no, she thinks you're handsome and wants to get in your pants!"
Tom glanced at Daphne, who was diligently taking notes, and gave a faint "Oh." He grumbled inwardly, What does this old relic know? She's just curious about the Muggle world. Still, with my looks, it's only natural someone would want me. But I can't let the girl hear that. Andros is such an old fool. Instead of studying magic, he's always thinking about this kind of nonsense.
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