The raven-haired boy stood by his twin sister, and their six best friends waiting for Professor McGonagall to come back, he was more nervous than he let on, what if he wasn't in Slytherin like his father or friends or sister, what if he was placed in Hufflepuff or Merlin forbid Gryffindor. He knew how they were sorted, he knew they could all be separated. He also knew his history, as did his sister and close friends, he knew he wasn't born a Riddle, as the records stated, he even remembered the orphanage before his Father rescued him and his "twin’ sister despite being only 4. he knew he was born Harry James Potter, twin to Henry Evan Potter, shaking his head he banished those thoughts to locked box behind his occlumency walls. They chose to abandon him, just because they thought Henry was the boy who lived, just because he was famous, they didn't care about him, but now he was Hartford Thomas Riddle. His father was the feared Dark Lord Voldemort. Tom Marvolo Riddle. His mother was a proud member of the Most Ancient and Noble house Black, the youngest of four girls, Cassiopeia Dorothy Black. He was now loved. He was proud of this new family, he was trained by the best, him and his sister. He looked to his right and just as he suspected his sister Hermione was standing right by his side, her nose buried in a book, blocking out the rest of the world. He smiled softly, she looked up sensing her brother's gaze, her bright green eyes the same shade as his.