Chapter 16: Getting Things Sorted

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“Before we begin the sorting ceremony I would like to introduce Tom Richards who will be starting his fifth year, he will be sorted after the first years,” Dumbledore stood at the centre of the teacher's table at the end of the great hall. To the first years, this would make him look more powerful, but his outfit gave him a sense of grandfatherlyness (or to Tom, senility). The first years were sorted and Tom waited patiently.

When his name was called he walked confidently to the stool. He found it was quite the wrong size for a person of his age so a swift engorgio was in order so he would seem less ridiculous. He could tell that several people were shocked by his use of the spell but no one said anything so he assumed it wouldn't be mentioned again.

Professor McGonagall placed the musty hat on top of his head and his sorting had begun.

'You've come a long way, Riddle,'

'I would do anything for Harry,'

'So I can see, you have the loyalty of a Hufflepuff but something tells me they'd be too crazy for you,'

'Hufflepuffs crazy? Now I've heard everything,'

'You'd be surprised,' the hat hummed 'You're quite brave considering all you've done to be here but still Gryffindor wouldn't suit you,'

'You don't need to be a magical hat to work that out,'

'Ravenclaw seems a worthy choice, you're smart and well-mannered, but maybe Slytherin is where you should return to…'

'From the looks of it, the house has lost most of its former glory,'

'Your choice Tom, I simply cannot decide,' He was becoming a hat stall at this point. Everyone was sitting on the edge of their seats with anticipation. Whether that be for his sorting or the meal to come it didn't matter. He could go to Ravenclaw where nobody would suspect anything or Slytherin where he could achieve a restoration of their glory and bring power back to the name. Miss Lovegood was in Ravenclaw, and it would do well to be close with a seer. She didn't seem the type to be hateful towards a certain house but you could never be sure.

At this point, he actually was a hat stall. It had been more than five long minutes since he had sat down and he needed to make a decision.

'I have decided,'

'Well then, a mighty choice I must say,' the hat cleared its… throat? "SLYTHERIN

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