Hogwarts: I, Tom, am really not Voldemort!

Thus, amidst the aftermath of the Savior's sorting, Tom's turn finally arrived after a long wait.

"Tom Riddle!" Professor McGonagall announced his name with a frown.

Those who knew the significance of this name perked up and watched Tom closely, paying close attention to the outcome of his Sorting.

Tom calmly stepped out of the line and walked forward to put on the Sorting Hat.

"Huh? Haven't I sorted you before?" The Sorting Hat's puzzled voice echoed in his mind.

"?" Well, Tom roughly guessed what was happening, but before he could explain, the Sorting Hat said to itself:

"No, no, that's not right. It's similar, very similar, but I can assure you that you are not him."

"Then, how about I go to Hufflepuff?" Tom asked tentatively.

"Just, honest?"

"!"

"Loyal, unafraid of hardship?"

"......"

Well, the Sorting Hat's sarcasm left Tom speechless.

"Ravenclaw?"

"No, no, you don't have such a strong pursuit of knowledge. Ravenclaw is not suitable for you."

The Sorting Hat denied Tom's choice.

"Not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor!"

"Don't you have any self-awareness? If Godric Gryffindor were still alive, he would definitely reject you first. Speaking of which, are you really not considering Azkaban?" The Sorting Hat was speechless about Tom.

"Azkaban? Sorry, I prefer Nurmengard. Speaking of which, can you really sort me into Nurmengard?" Tom's anticipation for the Sorting Hat was instantly maxed out.

The Sorting Hat didn't know how to regard Tom anymore, and decided not to waste any more words with him, immediately making the final decision.

"Suitable for Tom Riddle, is of course—" The Sorting Hat shouted loudly: "Slytherin—"

Well, Tom's heart died. Although he had expected it, who said there couldn't be an accident?

Taking off the Sorting Hat, Tom walked towards the Slytherin table amidst their perfunctory applause.

"This way, this way..." Draco, who had been instructed by his father, had already reserved a seat next to him for Tom, beckoning him to sit down.

As soon as Tom sat down, Draco excitedly leaned over: "I'm Draco Malfoy, Lucius's son. Can I call you Tom?"

Tom nodded in agreement.

"You really did get into Slytherin. My dad told me to listen to you at school. If you have any problems in the house in the future, I'll help you sort them out," Draco vowed.

'Lucius!' Hearing Draco's words, Tom felt that a peaceful school life was getting further and further away from him, and secretly noted Lucius's name.

The subsequent sorting proceeded quickly. Cassandra unsurprisingly entered Slytherin, and Ron also unsurprisingly entered Gryffindor.

When the last person, Blaise Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin, Professor McGonagall put away the parchment, and the Sorting Ceremony officially ended.

The original Gryffindor Golden Trio was left with only two useless men. It was truly pitiful (joyful), tragic (renowned), lamentable (seen).

But Tom had no heart to pay attention to these things, because several scrutinizing gazes in the hall were now fixed on him.

The uncertain and surprised gazes of professors like McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout, ignored.

Old Dumbledore's, ignore it.

Snape's, shouldn't your attention be on Harry now? Why are you staring at me?

As for Quirrell, Old Voldemort isn't still dormant, is he? Even like this, he can snoop. When I absorb a few more experience packs, I'll kill you sooner or later.

"That's right, I was born in a Muggle orphanage, but I haven't seen what my parents looked like. Maybe they or my ancestors were wizards, who knows," Tom answered Cassandra's question confidently.

"Then how did you, a little wizard who has never been exposed to the magical world, master so many spells before school even started?"

"That shows I have good talent and learn spells quickly."

Just as Cassandra wanted to ask further, Dumbledore's speech rescued Tom.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you all!"

Hearing Old Dumbledore's classic opening, Tom applauded enthusiastically.

Draco and Cassandra looked at each other, and finally Draco couldn't help but say: "Tom, what are you doing? My dad said Dumbledore is a little crazy, it seems he's right."

"Well, he's still Dumbledore, the greatest white wizard of the 20th century. Why don't you go ask your dad face to face if he dares to say that in front of Dumbledore? Besides, you should always give the headmaster's speech some face," Tom retorted Draco's words.

Just as they were talking, a rich feast appeared on the long table in the blink of an eye, and the banquet officially began.

In contrast to the other houses' unrestrained feasting style, the Slytherin students always maintained elegant dining etiquette.

It's just that this year, in addition to the two idiots, Goyle and Crabbe, there was another anomaly.

As for Tom, he knows dining etiquette, but it's not necessary. It's too tiring for him to always pretend like that. It's enough to be polite.

"Eat slowly, you look like a starving ghost reincarnated. Did you, who were born as a Muggle, inherit such etiquette?" Cassandra frowned unhappily when she saw Tom's appearance.

"My appearance is much better than Goyle and Crabbe's. Besides, I haven't eaten anything all day, I'm really starving, so don't pay attention to any etiquette at this time," Tom retorted mercilessly.

But fortunately, with Draco and Cassandra, this young master and young lady, protecting him, the other Slytherin little snakes just frowned and said nothing.

Even Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini and others took the initiative to say hello. In this way, a wonderful dinner time passed peacefully.

"......The school's Forbidden Forest is forbidden for any students to enter...."

"......If you don't want to encounter accidents and die tragically, please do not enter the third floor corridor on the right......"

After Dumbledore finished speaking about the precautions and warnings, it was the popular school song segment.

Looking at the teachers who changed their faces and stiffened, Tom looked around for beetles. Rita Skeeter wasn't here for such a wonderful scene, bad review!

After singing the school song, Tom and the other first-year students returned to the Slytherin common room under the leadership of the male and female prefects.

"Glory!"

With the prefect's command, the door to the common room slowly opened.

Looking at the common room built at the bottom of the lake, Tom instinctively felt a chill, and unconsciously whispered: "I still like Hufflepuff after all."

In the dormitory assignment session, unsurprisingly, he was assigned to a dormitory with Draco, Goyle, and Crabbe.

Lying on the four-poster bed, Tom was still a little dazed.

The highly anticipated prefect election and the face-slapping segment, these common plot lines in fanfics, didn't even happen.

Bad review, complaint!

After thinking wildly for a long time, he could no longer bear the fatigue of the journey and fell into a deep sleep.