These first years, untouched by formal magical education, possessed magic in its purest state. Their power had not yet been shaped or "contaminated" by layers of learned technique and rigid theory. That purity made their innate traits easier to observe.
And Tom truly did notice something.
Among the new Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, he found no obvious common thread in their magic. Their auras varied widely, without a clear shared characteristic.
But among Slytherins and Gryffindors, it was different.
The magic of students sorted into those two Houses was noticeably more active, more volatile, more inclined toward outward expression.
If Hogwarts were ever reduced to only two Houses, Tom mused, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff might well merge into one. And Slytherin and Gryffindor into another.
...
Half an hour later, the Sorting Ceremony concluded.
Professor McGonagall carried the Sorting Hat and the three legged stool out of the Hall. Dumbledore rose to his feet.
"Welcome!" His beard shimmered in the candlelight, and his voice carried clearly to every corner of the Great Hall. "Welcome back to those familiar faces returning to school, and welcome to the new ones among us. I have several announcements to make, one of them quite important, so it is best I speak before you enjoy your feast and your heads become delightfully empty."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"Our school is currently hosting several Dementors. They have been sent by the Ministry of Magic to perform official duties. You have already encountered them aboard the Hogwarts Express."
A faint murmur rippled through the Hall.
"I must make this perfectly clear. No trick, no clever scheme will fool a Dementor. Do not attempt to leave the grounds without authorization. They are stationed at every entrance."
A heavy silence settled over many students. Heads lowered in visible dissatisfaction.
Tom, however, was thinking about something else.
Why was Lockhart's bounty higher than Bellatrix's? Could a single, wandless Memory Charm truly justify such a threat level?
In truth, even Dumbledore did not fully understand. Only a handful within the Ministry knew the real reason.
It had been the Dementors themselves who protested.
Perhaps Lockhart had used too much force. The Dementor he attacked with his Memory Charm remained in a dazed, confused state. It had even forgotten its instinct to feed. Its form had shrunk noticeably. If this continued, it might quite literally starve to death before the year ended.
The very idea horrified the other Dementors.
To starve.
They did not even want to imagine such an end.
To them, Lockhart was a natural enemy, a being that could cripple their very essence. He could not simply be imprisoned in Azkaban. If captured, he was to be given the Kiss immediately.
Fudge had grown weary of the creatures' relentless complaints and eventually conceded.
"Now, let us move to more pleasant matters."
After delivering news that pleased no one, including himself, Dumbledore's smile returned.
"I must remind you that this Wednesday, all classes will be suspended for the day as we conduct placement examinations. I trust you will use the coming days wisely and present work that satisfies your professors."
The silence deepened.
And beneath it, something else.
Despair.
Merlin's pipe.
Dementors lurking outside the castle, and exams the moment term began. And the Headmaster called this good news?
Judging by the expressions of the professors, it certainly was good news for them.
Dumbledore pressed on, beaming.
"I am also delighted to welcome three new members to our staff this term."
"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly agreed to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Scattered applause followed. Gryffindor clapped enthusiastically under Harry and the Weasleys' lead. Tom joined in, partly out of courtesy to Sirius, who was now one of his most valuable customers. The applause gradually swelled.
Slytherin students were unimpressed by Lupin's threadbare appearance. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff maintained a cautious neutrality, many still remembering Lockhart as the most dazzling Defence professor in recent memory.
Dumbledore caught Tom's eye and inclined his head slightly, as if in thanks.
When the applause faded, he continued.
"Secondly, Professor Kettleburn has retired. I am pleased to announce that Rubeus Hagrid will assume his position as Professor of Care of Magical Creatures. As someone who has worked closely with magical beasts for many years, I am confident you will learn much from him."
This time, Tom applauded first.
Hagrid's greatest virtue was his sincerity. He was hardworking and reliable. Over the summer, every single batch of Acromantula venom had been delivered precisely as agreed, without error or delay. Support was deserved.
Hagrid's face turned crimson as he nodded awkwardly toward the four House tables.
Becoming a professor had always been his dream. To teach about magical creatures he adored made it all the more meaningful.
"And finally, though he will arrive two days late due to prior engagements, I will introduce him now. Dedalus Diggle will take up the post of Muggle Studies professor. Having lived among Muggles for a time, he offers unique insights into their culture. You will come to appreciate his perspective. Now, eat."
At last, platters filled with food appeared across the tables.
This year's feast was unusually calm. No chaos. No dramatic interruptions.
Students ate heartily. Time passed swiftly. When the final pumpkin pies vanished, Dumbledore led the Hall in a rousing, if off key, rendition of the school song and dismissed them.
Many hurried off, faces grim, eager to finish neglected homework.
Tom had no such homework to complete, but he had matters of his own to attend to. His pace was no slower.
He had nearly reached the doors when a clear voice called out behind him.
"Mr. Riddle, if you would wait a moment."
He turned.
The surrounding students instinctively parted to reveal Professor McGonagall approaching.
Tom walked back toward her, faintly puzzled.
Term had just begun. He had not even had time to misbehave.
Why was McGonagall already seeking him out?
A preemptive warning, perhaps? A reminder to behave?
Or something else entirely?