Work Text:
The boy approached the Sorting Hat with a confidence that was surprising in a first-year. His brown hair was a little long, falling over one eye. A poor haircut, probably free.
When she was placed over the boy's head she nearly jerked away as she was assaulted by an aura of ambition, power and intelligence that was almost overpowering in its strength.
"Obviously Slytherin, then," she said into the boy's mind, a little wryly. She was just about to shout the House name when the boy resolutely declined.
"If I am in Slytherin I will be watched and hampered by assumptions about my intentions." The boy had tried to confabulate an excuse, but one could not lie to the Sorting Hat.
"You are obviously intelligent. Ravenclaw? I do not think you are rich enough in the qualities valued in Hufflepuff." This was also said a little wryly.
"Gryffindor," the boy insisted. "Gryffindor is for the adventurous and brave. I intend to bend the Wizarding World to my will, and that is both adventurous and brave. It will be easier to accomplish my goals under those banners than under that of ambition."
The Sorting Hat sighed. "Gryffindor!"
And Albus Dumbledore moved happily to join the table cheering him, his pockets full of offerings of innocuous sweets.
The boy approached the Sorting Hat with a confidence that was surprising in a first-year. His brown hair was a little long, falling over one eye. A poor haircut, probably free.
When she was placed over the boy's head she nearly jerked away as she was assaulted by an aura of ambition, power and intelligence that was almost overpowering in its strength.
"Obviously Slytherin, then," she said into the boy's mind, a little wryly.
"Obviously," the boy agreed, believing he had wrested the natures of the Houses from the Sorting Hat. "It will be easier to recruit like-minded companions to my causes, whatever those may become."
"Slytherin!" announced the Sorting Hat.
Tom Riddle stepped from the stool and made his way to his welcoming table with dignity and an air of smooth solicitude.
