The Hogwarts Express hadn’t even left the station for very long before I began considering the people I wanted to meet.
Hogwarts wasn’t simply a school; it was one of the most important political and social environments in Britain, and the students sitting around me would eventually become influential witches and wizards.
Some would inherit ancient families, others would become Ministry officials, business owners, professors, Aurors, researchers, or political figures.
If I wanted to influence magical Britain in the future, there was no reason to wait until adulthood to begin establishing relationships.
The people I met now could become some of my most valuable allies decades later.
I had already decided that I wanted Slytherin.
It wasn’t merely because I was the Heir of Slytherin, although that certainly made the choice easier.
Slytherin contained many of Britain’s oldest families, and those families possessed an enormous amount of wealth, political influence, connections, and magical knowledge.
If I wanted to eventually influence Britain without immediately resorting to conquest, Slytherin was the obvious place to establish my foundation.
I was sitting comfortably inside my compartment when the door suddenly opened.
A blond-haired boy around my age stood outside.
His robes were considerably more expensive than anything belonging to an ordinary eleven-year-old, and the manner in which he carried himself immediately told me that he had been raised to believe his family name mattered.
I recognized him almost instantly.
Abraxas Malfoy.
Lucius Malfoy’s father.
Interesting.
The future patriarch of the Malfoy family had just walked into my compartment.
“Is this compartment taken?” “No, not at all.
Please, come in.” I gestured toward the empty seats with the polite smile I had perfected over the past few weeks.
I rose slightly and gave him the appropriate greeting before introducing myself.
“Tom Riddle.
It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Abraxas Malfoy.” His eyes moved over me, briefly examining my clothes before returning to my face.
His expression was polite, but I could see the faint uncertainty behind his eyes.
“Riddle?
I don’t recognize that as a pure-blood family.” There it was.
I smiled.
“Well, I’m pure-blood.
My family simply lost its original name.
My father descends from a lost Squib branch, while my mother’s family is pure-blooded.” I deliberately tapped the ring on my finger.
The reaction was immediate.
Abraxas’s eyes dropped toward the silver-and-green ring bearing the coiled serpent of Slytherin.
His entire demeanor changed.
The uncertainty disappeared.
The slight arrogance disappeared.
Instead, his expression became one of genuine interest.
“That is…” He leaned forward slightly.
“The Slytherin ring?” “One of them.” Abraxas stared at it for another moment before looking back at me.
“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you, Tom Riddle.” I nearly laughed.
That was quite the change.
Of course, I understood precisely why.
The ring wasn’t merely jewelry.
It was proof.
The Heir Ring of Slytherin could not simply be picked up by any random person.
It had tested me before accepting me, and the fact that an eleven-year-old could pass the test was itself evidence of extraordinary magical potential.
More importantly, possessing it meant that I wasn’t merely some unknown boy claiming to have pure-blood ancestry.
I had a direct magical connection to one of the greatest founders in British history.
And there was another implication.
If I could wield the Slytherin heir ring, then perhaps I wasn’t actually a Gaunt.
At least, not publicly.
The Gaunts had fallen into poverty and disgrace by this period, while the name Slytherin carried considerably more prestige among ambitious pure-blood families.
I could reveal my Gaunt ancestry later, when it became useful, but there was no reason to advertise it now.
Abraxas seemed to come to the same conclusion.
“You said your mother comes from a pure-blood family?” “That’s right.” “Interesting.” He smiled.
Then, almost as though he’d made a decision, he gestured toward the corridor.
“There are some people I’d like you to meet.” I nodded.
“Of course.” Abraxas introduced me to several other young members of Britain’s old pure-blood families.
The first was a dark-haired boy with an unmistakably aristocratic bearing.
“Orion Black.” I recognized the name immediately.
Sirius Black’s future father.
Then came a dark-haired girl whose expression was considerably more intense.
“Walburga Black.” Sirius’s future mother.
And finally, Amandine Rosier.
I looked between them while maintaining my polite smile.
This was almost ridiculous.
I had been at Hogwarts for less than an hour and had already encountered several members of families that would become important to my future.
I greeted each of them properly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The introductions went smoothly, and I quickly found myself welcomed into their conversation.
That was something I had expected.
My upbringing as the original Tom Riddle had taught me how to read people, while my enhanced intelligence made it even easier to analyze their reactions.
More importantly, the personality I had developed after the soul fusion gave me something that the original Tom had sometimes lacked: patience.
I didn’t need to dominate every conversation.
I didn’t need to demonstrate that I was the smartest person in the room.
I didn’t need everyone to fear me.
I simply needed them to like me.
That was much more useful.
Abraxas seemed to be the easiest person to connect with.
He was ambitious, proud of his family, interested in politics, and clearly enjoyed discussing matters involving magical society.
I could work with that.
“So, Tom,” Abraxas said after we’d been talking for a while, “which house are you hoping to join?” “Slytherin.” My answer came instantly.
Abraxas smiled.
“Good.” “I’ve heard that Slytherin has produced many of Britain’s greatest witches and wizards.” “That’s certainly true.” “And considering my ancestry, I think it would be appropriate.” I tapped the Slytherin ring again.
Abraxas gave a small laugh.
“I think you’ll fit in perfectly.” I smiled.
Exactly what I wanted to hear.
I wasn’t going to pretend that my decision was based entirely on heritage.
Slytherin was simply the best strategic choice.
The House contained many of Britain’s most politically influential families, and those families possessed connections extending throughout the Ministry, Wizengamot, businesses, old estates, and magical institutions.
If I wanted to eventually become Minister of Magic, Headmaster of Hogwarts, or even something far more ambitious, those relationships would be invaluable.
And if neither political route worked?
Well…
There was always conquest.
That was my final option.
But I wasn’t planning to use it unless absolutely necessary.
Why conquer a country when you could make the country willingly follow you?
That was the lesson my future self had apparently never understood.
Fear was useful.
Loyalty was better.
While we continued talking, I carefully studied Abraxas.
He was arrogant, certainly, but I suspected there was considerably more beneath the surface.
He came from one of the wealthiest and most influential pure-blood families in Britain, and his son Lucius would eventually become a powerful wizard in his own right.
I couldn’t yet determine precisely how talented Abraxas was, but I wasn’t particularly concerned.
If necessary, I could always use the system.
The System Shop didn’t only contain abilities that could strengthen me.
There were items, magical resources, training methods, and other things that could potentially improve the capabilities of people connected to me.
Eventually, I could use those resources to cultivate my allies into genuinely formidable witches and wizards.
But that was a problem for the future.
I currently had zero System Points.
Why would I waste my precious resources strengthening someone else when I could strengthen myself?
My priority was obvious.
Me first.
Once I had reached a sufficiently high level of power, however, I would start investing in my inner circle.
And that brought me to an important distinction.
Not everyone was going to be part of my inner circle.
Some people were disposable.
I didn’t particularly enjoy admitting that, but pretending otherwise would be pointless.
I was still Tom Riddle.
My empathy wasn’t normal.
I could feel genuine affection, loyalty, and even grief for people I had formed a meaningful bond with, but strangers were different.
Someone I didn’t care about was ultimately a variable in a calculation.
That didn’t mean I intended to betray my friends.
Quite the opposite.
If someone genuinely became part of my inner circle, I wouldn’t treat them as disposable pieces.
If I developed a plan that carried a significant risk of injury or death to one of my close allies, I’d tell them beforehand.
If there was a way to protect them, I’d use it.
I wasn’t going to recreate the organization my future self eventually created.
The Death Eaters had been filled with followers who feared Voldemort more than they respected him.
That was an incredibly inefficient way to build an empire.
I wanted something different.
I wanted loyalty.
I wanted friendship.
I wanted people who genuinely believed that following me would create a better future for themselves and the magical world.
And Abraxas Malfoy?
I was beginning to think he could become one of those people.
We continued talking for quite some time.
Politics came up.
Family traditions came up.
Hogwarts came up.
We discussed professors, Houses, magical education, and the expectations placed upon children from old families.
I carefully avoided revealing anything suspicious while occasionally dropping enough intelligent observations to make it clear that I wasn’t an ordinary eleven-year-old.
Abraxas seemed increasingly interested in me.
That was good.
I wasn’t trying to manipulate him into becoming my servant.
Not yet.
I was making a friend.
And perhaps, someday, that friend would become one of the pillars supporting everything I intended to build.
I leaned back against the carriage seat and listened as Abraxas continued talking.
For once, I wasn’t thinking about killing anyone.
I wasn’t thinking about Horcruxes.
I wasn’t thinking about becoming immortal.
I wasn’t even thinking about ruling Britain.
I was simply enjoying the conversation.
That was something my future self had apparently forgotten how to do.
Perhaps that was one of the greatest differences between us.
He had spent his entire life trying to ensure that nobody could ever have power over him.
I was beginning to understand that sometimes the greatest form of power was having people who willingly stood beside you.
And as the Hogwarts Express continued speeding north toward my new life, I couldn’t help but wonder just how many of these friendships I could turn into something far greater.