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Hogwarts Targaryen Dragonborn
Hogwarts Bloodline Wizards
Hogwarts: Voldemort Inheritance Knowledge, Blood, and the Dark Mark
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Tom's fork paused mid-bite. He had the distinct feeling of being watched.
Following the sensation, his gaze drifted to the staff table. A middle-aged man with neatly trimmed black hair sat there, dressed in a sharply tailored dark wizard's robe over a crisp suit. He was staring at Tom with open interest.
When their eyes met, the man didn't look away. Instead, he smiled, gave Tom a small nod, and turned back to Dumbledore beside him.
"So that's this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"
Tom kept the thought to himself. He had no idea who the guy was. As long as he wasn't another Lockhart-style fraud, that would be good enough—especially since they were going to be dealing with one of Voldemort's Horcruxes this year.
Then again… was the Horcrux even with Ginny right now? It wasn't impossible. Draco and Ron were on decent terms, but Lucius and Arthur would never bury the hatchet. Maybe he should just steal the diary from Ginny later. She was already keeping a snake as a pet because of it. If that thing stayed with her for a whole term, there was no telling whether they could still save her.
While Tom was lost in thought, the black-haired man on the dais smiled at Dumbledore. "Albus, is that the special child you were telling me about?"
Dumbledore didn't answer directly. He looked the new professor up and down, the corner of his mouth twitching. "So this is the 'explanation' you promised me?"
"Is there a problem?"
The man's smile didn't falter. His eyes flicked briefly toward Newt and Nicolas, who were watching him warily. "I have to admit, I didn't expect you to drag those two into working for you. Classic Albus—your connections really are something. Need any more help? Just say the word and I can bring in a few old friends."
"No need, thank you," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "If you just behave yourself, that'll be the biggest help you can give me."
"Don't worry," the man replied easily. "I'm a law-abiding citizen these days."
"I might believe that if your name wasn't Percival Graves right now."
"Is that so? Then we'll talk about it next time~"
"I'd rather there not be a next time."
Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his temple. "Just don't get any ideas about him. If it weren't for Tom, you wouldn't even be here."
"Tsk tsk tsk. Still playing favorites with your students, I see. But considering what the boy's done, I'll look the other way… this time."
With that, Percival turned his attention to the plate in front of him. "I'll give you this—the food here isn't bad."
Once the man's focus shifted, Newt leaned in cautiously toward Dumbledore, glancing at Percival. "Professor… are you sure it's safe to let him teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"It should be fine," Dumbledore answered, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. He added quietly, "If not… well, we still have you, Newt. I trust you."
Newt's face darkened. He should have listened to Tina. Coming back to Hogwarts had been a mistake. Now he was stuck in the middle of whatever mess this was.
Tom had no idea what was being discussed at the staff table. He didn't know who Percival was, and he didn't particularly care. Meanwhile, in a small room off the side of the Great Hall, the first-year students were chattering nervously about the upcoming Sorting Ceremony.
Luna stood quietly at the edge of the group, listening to the other children talk. Every so often she glanced toward the wall, as if she could see straight through it into the Great Hall beyond.
"Hey, Luna. Are you nervous?"
A voice spoke up beside her. Luna turned to see a red-haired girl with bright eyes smiling at her—Ginny Weasley.
"Not really," Luna answered after a moment. "I don't see many Wrackspurts around."
"Wrackspurts?"
"A special kind of magical creature. They float into your ears and scramble your thoughts."
Luna explained it with complete seriousness.
Ginny blinked, then decided not to question it. She knew Luna's way of speaking by now. "Okay… but what do you think the Sorting Ceremony is actually like? Ron told me we have to fight two trolls. I'm pretty sure he was lying."
"He was," Luna confirmed. "Tom said a talking hat will decide which House we go to."
Ginny snorted. "A talking hat? Is that another one of those creatures that don't exist in the outside world?"
Luna nodded, her expression unchanged. "That's what Tom told me. He wouldn't lie."
I'd rather believe we have to fight trolls than believe in a talking hat, Ginny thought, keeping the comment to herself.
"This snake," Luna said, changing the subject. Her eyes had drifted to the large green serpent coiled around Ginny's shoulders. "Is it your pet?"
"Uh… sort of," Ginny replied, looking a little awkward. "Technically it's more like my pet's pet? Or… friend?"
She wasn't sure how to explain it without sounding strange. Luna, however, didn't seem bothered. After all, Tom had his own owl. If her cat could have a pet, then Ginny's pet having a snake made perfect sense.
"By the way, you still haven't met my pet yet, right? He's really—"
Before Ginny could finish, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out from nearby. "First-years, line up! The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."
Ginny sighed and gave Luna a helpless shrug. "Guess I'll have to introduce you later."
Luna nodded and took her place in line.
Under McGonagall's guidance, the group moved forward. Luna walked just ahead of Ginny, stepping into the brightly lit Great Hall. Older students at the four long tables watched them enter.
Luna wasn't nervous. Her eyes scanned the crowd and immediately found Tom at the Ravenclaw table.
Tom, who had spotted her too, waved a paw while holding half a slice of cake in the other. He pointed at a plate piled high with food—everything she liked.
Luna's lips curved into a small but radiant smile.
Ginny didn't notice. Her attention was fixed on McGonagall, who had placed a four-legged stool in front of them and set a worn, patched hat on top of it.
Ginny's mind flashed back to what Luna had said about a "talking hat" deciding their Houses. Her mouth fell open slightly. Could the hat actually be alive?
Did that mean the other creatures Luna mentioned—Wrackspurts, Crumple-Horned Snorkacks—were real too?
If they were… she kind of wanted to see what they looked like.
The Sorting Hat sang its new song. McGonagall stood ready with the parchment. The ceremony had officially begun.
Down at the tables, Tom had already lost interest in the proceedings after greeting Luna. None of the other second-years mattered to him. Except Ginny. Between the Horcrux she was probably carrying and the snake draped over her shoulders, she was worth watching.
He didn't notice the strange looks being exchanged at the staff table.
"That snake… could it be—?"
"It's her. I'm sure of it."
"But why would she become a student's pet?"
"No idea. Maybe we should let Tom handle it?"
"…Maybe."
Tom remained oblivious.
The Sorting continued. New students were called one by one. Ravenclaw gained a few more faces. Some of the newcomers tried to approach Tom, only to be intercepted by older Ravenclaws who immediately launched into detailed explanations of Tom's many accomplishments. The first-years' eyes grew wide with awe as they looked at both Tom and the girl sitting beside him.
Tom nodded in satisfaction. Hopefully that meant Luna wouldn't have to deal with any bullying.
"Ginny Weasley."
At the Gryffindor table, the twins started whistling. "Ginny! You've got this!"
"Gryffindor! Gryffindor!"
Ginny's face turned pink. She walked up nervously and sat on the stool before McGonagall could even finish speaking. The professor looked mildly startled by how quickly the girl had put the hat on—without even setting her snake aside.
After a brief internal discussion, the Sorting Hat announced, "Gryffindor!"
The twins erupted into cheers. George even blew a loud whistle. Harry and Ron clapped enthusiastically from their seats—Ron especially, looking proud that his little sister had joined him in Gryffindor.
Tom watched Ginny descend from the dais in a happy daze, then turned back to his plate. At least she was still in Gryffindor. That was something. Now that the people he actually cared about had been sorted, he could get back to eating.
"Next—Jerry Weasley."
Tom froze, fork halfway to his mouth. His eyes widened.
Who the hell was Jerry Weasley?