Lost and bound | Mattheo Riddle

Chapter 6: The Sorting

The Hogwarts Express emptied onto a dark platform in Hogsmeade, the night air sharp with the smell of pine and lake water. A giant of a man with a wild beard bellowed, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" and Celestia, along with Pansy and Daphne, found themselves herded into small boats that glided silently across the black, glassy lake.

And then they saw it.

Hogwarts. A vast castle of turrets and towers, its windows blazing with light against the starry sky, reflected perfectly in the still water below. It was more magnificent than any story Remus had ever told. For the first time, a thrill of pure, untainted excitement shot through Celestia, momentarily silencing the anxious hum of her magic.

They were led into the Great Hall by a stern-looking witch Professor McGonagall. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, thousands of candles floated in mid-air, and four long tables were packed with students, their faces turned towards the new arrivals. At the top of the Hall sat the staff table, and for a terrifying second, Celestia thought she saw a man with kind eyes and faded robes. Remus? But no, it was just a trick of the light.

The Sorting Hat began its song, a croaky tune about the virtues of each house. Then, one by one, names were called.

"Boot, Mandy!" became a Hufflepuff.
"Granger, Hermione!" sat on the stool for what felt like an age before the Hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"
"Potter, Harry!" caused a wave of whispers before he, too, was sorted into Gryffindor amidst roaring applause.
"Weasley, Ronald!" became a Gryffindor almost instantly.

Then, the names crept closer to her new acquaintances.
"Greengrass, Daphne!" The Hat barely touched her sleek blonde hair before it screamed "SLYTHERIN!" She glided to the table with a satisfied smile.
"Parkinson, Pansy!" was also sorted into Slytherin within seconds, joining Daphne.

Celestia's heart hammered. "Lupin, Celestia!"

She walked forward on shaky legs, sitting on the stool. Professor McGonagall lowered the Hat onto her head. It was large and slipped down over her eyes.

"Hmm" a small voice whispered in her ear. "Now, this is interesting. A great deal of resilience. A mind used to secrecy. A powerful, stormy magic.... you've learned control, out of necessity. A thirst to prove yourself, not for glory, but for survival. To protect what's yours."

The Hat was silent for a moment, sifting through her thoughts. She thought of Remus, of the cottage, of the need for a safe place to hide her true name.

"Ah, yes. A very Slytherin trait, that. Self-preservation. But there's loyalty there, too, fierce and deep. It could be Hufflepuff... but no. The darkness in your past hasn't broken you; it's forged you. It's made you cunning. It's made you ambitious to carve out a place for yourself. Better be...."

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Hat shouted the word to the whole Hall. There was polite applause from the Slytherin table, more curious than enthusiastic. She took the Hat off, her hands trembling slightly, and walked to the table, slipping into the seat between Pansy and Daphne, who gave her approving nods.

The Sorting continued.
"Nott, Theodore!" A boy with thoughtful, watchful eyes and sandy hair was sorted into Slytherin. He sat quietly, observing everything.
"Zabini, Blaise!" A handsome boy with dark skin and a cool, composed demeanor joined them, offering a slight, polite nod to the group.
"Malfoy, Draco!" The pale, pointed-faced boy from Madam Malkin's puffed out his chest. The Hat screamed "SLYTHERIN!" before it even touched his head. He strutted to the table, smirking.

"Another Lupin" he said, his voice drawling as he took a seat opposite her. "Don't know the name. Your father some kind of.... civil servant?" He said it like it was a disease.

Before Celestia could form a response, the last name was called.
"Riddle, Mattheo!"

A hush, different from the one for Harry, fell over the staff table. A boy stood up. He had jet-black hair, strikingly handsome features, and a cold, composed grace. He moved like he owned the world already. The Hat was placed on his head. There was a long, tense pause, a full minute, before it finally shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

He walked to their table, and the older students subtly made room for him. He sat down near Draco, his eyes a cool, calculating grey sweeping over the first years. They lingered on Celestia for a fraction of a second too long, noting the new face.

Draco, eager to impress the son of the infamous heir, leaned in. "Riddle. That's a name everyone knows. Your father.... he was a legend."

Mattheo's lips curled into a faint, arrogant smile. It didn't reach his eyes. "He was a powerful man. A purist. He had.... vision." His voice was smooth, devoid of any warmth.

Celestia felt the blood drain from her face. Riddle. It wasn't a common name. And the way he said it, with such pride. His father. The man with the holly wand. The man who had murdered her parents. The man whose very name was a curse in her home.

A cold, hard knot of hatred tightened in her stomach. She looked down at her plate, her appetite gone. She could feel his presence like a chill, just a few seats away.

Theo Nott, quiet until now, spoke softly from her left. "You alright, Lupin? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She forced herself to look up, to school her features into neutrality. The first lesson: control. "I'm fine. Just.... tired from the trip."

Blaise Zabini, on Theo's other side, gave a lazy shrug. "It's a lot to take in. The food helps." He gestured to the feast that had appeared.

Draco, meanwhile, was still trying to engage Mattheo. "My father says the Wizarding World needs to return to its old ways. Get rid of the mudbloods."

Mattheo's gaze flicked to Draco, a glint of interest there. "My father believed that too. Strength in purity." He said it like he was reciting a well-learned lesson.

Celestia felt sick. She focused on Daphne and Pansy, on Theo's quiet observation, on Blaise's detached amusement, anywhere but on Mattheo Riddle. She was surrounded by the children of Death Eaters, of old pure-blood families, and now, the son of the man who had destroyed her life.

She was Celestia Lupin here. A nobody. A half-blood with a private, homeschooled past. It was the perfect disguise.

She glanced at Mattheo again, who was now holding court with a few older Slytherins. He thought he was the one with secrets. He thought he was the one with a legacy of power.

Little does he know, she thought, the cold fury settling into a core of icy resolve deep within her. Little does he know that the daughter of the people his father murdered is sitting right here. And I will never, ever forget.