A Stranger among familiars
September 1st came quickly, as Harry stepped onto the bustling platform of nine and three-quarters he noticed how familiar the platform looked. “It looks as if it hasn’t changed a bit, since my universe…Wizards never do change, do they?” He thought, amused.
Children were screaming, and their parents were trying to contain them. He could feel the prickly energy coming from all the mixed magic. He quietly boarded the train, and found an empty compartment. He placed his trunk underneath the Train-sofa and placed a wordless Notice-Me-Not on it.
Time passed quickly for him, after “living” eternally it does take a toll on you. He rolled his speech that he had to give to the students in his mind. His thoughts quietly drifted to Tom Riddle. He doubts the budding dark lord will take an interest in him, but you can never be too careful.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Harry sat near the window, watching the countryside flicker by in a blur of greens and golds. His hands rested lightly on his lap, the faintest hum of magic coiling just beneath his skin, like a quiet storm waiting for permission to break. The compartment was empty except for him, his presence deliberately unassuming. He kept his expression neutral - calm, unreadable.
The door slid open with a soft click. Harry didn’t need to turn to know who had stepped inside. The air shifted, filled with the subtle weight of arrogance. Teenagers
“Mind if we join you?” The voice was smooth, dangerously polite - Tom Riddle.
Harry’s eyes flicked lazily upward. “It’s an open compartment,” he replied, his tone uninterested.
Tom stepped in first, unsurprisingly. His presence commanding, as if he expected the space to mild around him. Abraxas Malfoy followed, brushing imaginary dust off his robes as he seated himself beside Tom. Orion Black - Sirius’s Father - leaned casually against the doorframe, but still held that noble pureblood air. While Antonin Dolohov slid into the seat opposite Harry, legs stretched out like he owned the place. Evan Rosier took the last available seat by the door, his sharp eyes lingering on Harry longer than necessary. Cygnus Black loitered behind Orion, peering in like he was expecting something of value.
Harry glanced at each of them briefly before returning his gaze to the window.
“I don’t recognise you.” Abraxas spoke regally, brushing pale hair back from his face. His silver eyes narrowed. “Are you new?”
Harry smiled faintly, but the gesture lacked warmth. “I suppose you could say that.”
Tom leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes narrowing with curiosity. “You’re not a student.” It wasn’t a question.
Harry let the silence stretch between them like a taut string, waiting for it to fray.
“No, I’m not,” Harry answered at last. He caught Tom’s gaze and held it. “I’m the new Muggle Studies professor.”
For a fraction of a second, the compartment stilled. Then-
“Professor?” Rosier arched an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Dolohov, who gave a short, derisive laugh. “You look a bit young for a professor.”
“I suppose that depends on how long you’ve been paying attention,” Harry replied, his voice deceptively light.
Cygnus Black finally fully stepped inside, closing the door with a soft thud. His eyes gleamed with suspicion. “What’s your name, then? Sir.”
“Harry Evans.” He replied easily, rolling the name off his tongue like second nature.
There was something in the was Tom looked at him - sharp, predatory, as if sifting through the layers of truth and lie. He tilted his head slightly, but said nothing.
“A professor on the train.” Malfoy mused aloud, fingers tapping idly on his knee. “Bit unusual, don’t you think? I would have thought you would Apparate to Hogsmead.”
“I like the train,” Harry replied with a shrug. “It has…character.”
Orion seemed to internally snort at his answer. “Character? This thing’s ancient.”
“Sometimes the oldest things are the most dangerous,” Harry said, his eyes flicking to Orion. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Tom’s lips twitched faintly, the ghost of a smile. The others, however, were less amused. Dolohov’s expression hardened, and Malfoy straightened as if about to speak - but Tom raised a hand, silencing them without a word.
“You will have to forgive us, Professor Evans,” Tom said, his voice silk-smooth, “but we weren’t expecting to share a compartment with Staff. I imagine that you would prefer your peace and quiet.”
Harry’s eyes didn’t leave Tom’s. I don’t mind the company. It’s been enlightening.”
The train rattled on, the steady hum filling the silence between them. As the train continued to move, Harry could feel Tom’s gaze lingering on him, dissecting, calculating.
Yes, Harry thought. He will unfortunately be watching closely.
And so will I
The game has changed
After Harry leaves the Compartment, when the train has stopped.
The rhythmic clatter of the train filled he silence left behind, but Tom barely heard it. His fingers drummed lightly against the glass, eyes narrowed in thought.
“You saw it, didn’t you?“ Abraxas Malfoy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His silver gaze flicked briefly toward the corridor. “He doesn’t carry himself like a normal Professor.”
Orion Black scoffed, adjusting his robes. “He didn’t even flinch when you asked his name. Most professors would stammer under your gaze, but he looked… bored.”
Tom’s lips curled at the corners. “He wasn’t bored, Orion. He was watching.”
The compartment fell into a brief hush as the implications settled over them.
Abraxas frowned. “You think he is powerful then? I couldn’t feel a drop of magic from him. But not in the sense of a squib.”
“And that,” Tom said quietly, “is exactly why he’s dangerous.”
Lestrange shifted uneasily in his seat. “No magic feels like…no presence. Like an empty shell.”
Tom glanced over his shoulder, voice cool and even. “Empty shells don’t lock eyes with me as if they already know how the game ends.”
He stepped out of the compartment without another word, leaving the others behind.
The Welcoming Feast.
The Great Hall hummed with anticipation. Golden plates gleamed under the flickering candlelight, and the enchanted ceiling mirrored the dark, starlit sky outside. Hundreds of eyes watched s the line of first-years shuffled nervously towards the Sorting Hat, their footsteps echoing across the cobblestone floor. Harry Evans, or rather Harry Potter, sat at the staff table, expression unreadable. His dark green robes blended with the shadows that seemed to dance around him, and the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he caught sight of Tom Riddle down at the Slytherin table, gaze as sharp as ever.
Riddle’s focus wasn’t on the Sorting Hat. His gaze flicked between the hat and staff table, lingering far too long on Harry for it to be subtle. Harry pretended not to notice, though he knew better. The boy’s mind was already turning.
“Strange, isn’t it?” A voice murmured beside him.
Harry turned to meet the twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore. The transfiguration professor leaned in, chin resting on his steepled fingers.
“Mr Riddle seems quite taken by our newest addition to staff.”
Harry gave a nonchalant shrug. “Curiosity is natural for someone like him.”
“Hmm.” Dumbledore’s gaze lingered a moment longer before drifting back to the Sorting.
The Sorting hat bellowed “RAVENCLAW!” And a small girl hurried off, relived to join her housemates. The last of the first-years found their seats, and Headmaster Dippet rose from his ornate chair, raising his hands for silence.
“Welcome to Hogwarts.” His voice, though soft, carried across the Hall. “To our returning students, I hope the summer has treated you well. To our first-years, may you find in these walls not only knowledge, but friendships that will last a lifetime.”
There was a polite applause. Dippet waited for it to subside before continuing.
“Now, before we feast, a few words. Our caretaker, Mr. Pringle, reminds you that duelling in the corridors will result in immediate detention.” A faint chuckle rippled through the hall. “ And the forbidden forest, as always, remains forbidden.”
Tom Riddle barely paid attention to Dippet’s speech. His eyes flickered back to Harry, narrowing in thought.
“Finally.” Dippet’s voice cut through Riddle’s musings, “I would like to introduce our newest member of staff. Professor Evans will be taking over the Muggle Studies position this year.”
Harry rose smoothly, stepping forward. His eyes swept the crowd briefly, and for the slightest moment, they locked with Riddle’s.
“Thank you Headmaster.” Harry’s voice was quiet but steady. “It is my hope taht during our time together, I can offer you all insight into the world beyond these walls. Magic is a wonderful thing, but understanding those without it is just as vital. I look forward to teaching you.”
Later that evening, in the common room.
Tom sat by the fire, a book opened idly in his lap though he hadn’t turned the page for nearly an hour. The flames crackled softly, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The memory of Professor Evans presence lingered like an itch at the back of his mind, demanding attention.
His eyes flicked up as Orion approached, sinking into the chair opposite him.
“You are thinking about him.” Orion didn’t bother phrasing it as a question
Tom smirked faintly but said nothing.
“Ask him, then,” Orion continued, leaning forward. “You are not subtle, Tom. When something intrigues you, you pull the strings until it unravels.”
Tom closed the book with a soft thud. “Perhaps I will.”