An old friend
Now that Hogwarts was only a few hours away, Tom and Minerva chatted about houses. Minerva’s mother had been in Gryffindor, the brave and valiant house, but Minerva also really liked Ravenclaw, the house of wisdom, intelligence and creativity, that apparently had its own library. That house also sounded really good to Tom. He also told Minerva about the nice Professor Slughorn, whom he had met in Diagon Alley, and that he had been a Slytherin. The fact that Merope had always claimed that they were related to the original Slytherin, Tom did not say. He really didn’t want to talk about Merope.
Minerva said that Slytherin stood for ambition and cunning. Tom, who had always been raised to be ambitious, thought this house also sounded good. But the people in Hufflepuff, who apparently were hard working and loyal, sounded incredibly friendly and would surely make marvelous house mates. They really could not decide which house sounded best.
After about an hour of talking and snaking on the biscuits that Miss Robin had packed Tom, he had to leave the compartment to find a toilet. It was probably a bad idea to leave Minerva alone with especially the lemon biscuits, but it was totally necessary. Sadly enough the toilets were on the other side of the train or at least Tom did not find any other ones.
After washing his hands with a weird, black soap that smelled like licorice Tom made his way back to the compartment. “Uh, did you see all those mudbloods on the station? I swear there are more muggles on the platform every year!”, a boy in one of the compartments Tom passed called. “Oh shut up, Mulciber, you are only in year two!”, a girl hissed. Tom stopped at once. “Oh really, Borgin, you should really keep quiet. We all know you used to hang out with that mudblood in your dad’s shop.”, the first boy clapped back.
“He was a half-blood, you oaf! His mother is a Gaunt! And he could control his magic at the age of five! Five, Mulciber! Malfoy over here only did as much as start to show signs of magic at nine!”, the girl growled. Tom’s jaw dropped. Was it really possible that his childhood friend sat just behind that screen door... defending him? “Ey, leave me out of this! I have nothing in common with squibs and mudbloods, Constance! You start to sound like a Weasley or a Longbottom!”, another boy screeched.
“Yes, Borgin, shut up, or you get kicked out of the compartment!”, another girl called out. “You would not dare, Goyel! You would not dare! Black, back me up on this. You know a half-blood! That Spellspook girl!”, Constance Borgin spat. Someone sighed. “I really don’t care. Can’t we talk about quidditch instead? The Ballycastle Bats really wiped the floor with the Chudley Cannons, didn’t they?”, a bored sounding boy said.
“No, if Borgin wants to spread blood traitor talk, then we kick her out!”, the girl called Goyel growled. “Ugh, really? That really is not necessary.”, the bored boy called Black replied. “Nah, she is out”, another boy chuckled. The compartment’s door flew open and a short girl in Tom’s age was shoved out. Her brown hair was tied into a tight knot on her back. Her luggage flew out behind her.
For a short moment Tom could peek into the compartment, where a lot of students in fancy wizard robes were seated. A pale boy with long, reddish-brown hair, a tall girl with dark blonde hair, a blonde boy with a pointy face, a boy with a green tie and a nasty sunburn and the most beautiful boy Tom had ever seen. He lounged in a window seat and read a newspaper. The sun shone through his soft black curls and made it look like he was glowing. “Wow”, Tom whispered. Then the door snapped shut again.
“Uh, you bastards! I will make you pay!”, Constance screamed and banged her fist against the door. Laughter could be heard from inside. “Um, greetings. Do you need help?”, Tom quickly said, trying hard to shove the picture of the angel he had just seen out of his mind. He had been nine, when he first noticed, that he liked boys the same way others might like girls.
One evening, at dinner, he had told his family he would marry a boy one day, like mommy had done. At that grandpa Thomas had begun to laugh. “Well if that’s the case, you have to join the navy!”, the old colonel had snorted. “Dad, cut it out!”, dad had hissed. “No, no, half the navy is homosexual! Everybody knows that! Doesn’t make them any less brave of course. Great soldiers, those sailor boys”, grandpa had replied, still giggling. “See Junior, it is perfectly fine, if you like boys, but I’m afraid you wont be able to marry them...”, grandma Mary had said and then Tom had to learn, that the government and many other people did not really like homosexual boys. That Tom would be much better of not talking about it in public and that grandpa Thomas’ military friends Robert and William did not just live together, because it was more convenient.
“Yes, please. I could use some help with my trunk... and a new compartment”, Constance snapped him out of his memories. “You can sit with me and Minerva.”, Tom said grinning and grabbed Constance’s trunk, while the girl took a cage with a fluffy owl and a big cauldron. “I’m Constance Borgin by the way. Pleasure to meet you”, she said with a warm smile. Tom grinned at her. “I know. I heard the conversation. Thank you for defending me by the way.”
Constance tilted her head to the side. “Do I know you... or are you just a random half-blood?”, she asked awkwardly. “It’s me, Tom! Neat to see you again”, the young wizard introduced himself. Constance’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Tom? Tom Marvolo Riddle? It’s really you?”, she asked, a confused look on her face. “Yes. It’s me. I mean, we knew we were the same age...”, Tom started. “Miss Gaunt said you died. She said Mr. Riddle’s father found you and killed both of you with a muggle weapon. Is... is it really you?” Tom’s eyes went wide. “Yes, it’s me. We ran away. She used a love potion”, he answered while opening the compartment door.