Next time we met, was when I was eleven and he was twelve. I was just sorted into Slytherin and went to sit at its table only for me to look up and straight into those dark eyes. We both stared at each other once again. We didn't say anything nor did we move, we just stared, analyzing each other. I took in his features: he had pale skin and jet black hair. He looked lonely, hurt and angry with the world. He had something dark and evil in his eyes. It was only a a seed of malice for now, but I had a feeling that it will grow into something so evil, no one could imagine now, but I did. And I liked it. He was just the person I needed. A person meant for great works.
After holding the contact for a few minutes more both of us broke it and started to eat dinner, which just had appeared in front of us.
Trough all the year we didn't associate much. If I recall correctly, we didn't even utter a word to each other. All I knew about him was that his name was Tom Marvolo Riddle and that he was very popular with his fellow Slytherin's just like I soon became.
