hufflepuffwithaslytherinkink

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When Al and Lily tried to go to Hogwarts all by themselves, Harry had a hard time to ground them.

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So true queen!!!

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Transmogrification of a Not Yet Lord - Chapter Snippet (Tom's POV)

Tom Riddle is sat at the Slytherin table, his friends surrounding him talking about where they went over the holidays, the balls they attended and other rich people shit that irked him. He wasn’t paying attention to their prattle though. It might annoy him but this time his attention was on something else. He could have sworn her saw the girl from the orphanage, the new one getting off the train. But that’s ridiculous, he thinks, she’s a muggle no one special. Besides he’d never seen her before in his life.

He's seen her around the orphanage over the past two weeks, obviously, you can’t avoid anyone there unfortunately. But he avoided her, just like the other waste of spaces that reside there. He doesn’t need to waist him time on muggles, they offer him nothing. Besides he was leaving the orphanage after Hogwarts, they’d already told him, as soon as he’s finished his education, he’s not welcome back. Not that he wants to go back to that place.

He scoffs thinking about how the new girl almost knocked him over, obviously a stupid muggle. She couldn’t even be bothered to look where she was going. How is she meant to be a witch?

He chuckles at the thought. Though he thought he saw her at Diagon Alley too, he was getting his new books when he swore he saw her eating an ice-cream. Though that’s ridiculous, where would she have gotten the money for ice-cream if she lived at Wool’s? He shakes his head getting rid of the preposterous thoughts, she was playing on his mind because her orphanage had been bombed. It’s something he worried about constantly, something neither he nor magic could stop happening.

He shudders at the thought, glad he’s away from London and in the protection of the wizarding world once more. He turns his attention to the first years being brought in, he doesn’t need to dwell on unnecessary thoughts of death, he’s safe now.

He assesses each one as they walk in, he’s bored with them all already though he needs to act interested, he is head boy after all. Yet he’s starting to lose focus, wondering how long this was going to take, he’s starving he hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks thanks to rationing when he spots her, the girl from the orphanage. She’s walking in with the first years, twice their height and bold as brass. What is she doing? How is she here? It can’t be her, can it?

He leans forward watching her intently. She’s the same height as the girl, tall with dark blonde hair and pale skin. It looks like her. But how can it be her? He’s beyond confused as he watches her wait with the others. Did she only just find out she’s a witch? Why is she only just starting Hogwarts?

Cantankerus Nott notices him staring and shoots him a smirk.

“She’s alright looking, isn’t she?” He leers into Riddle’s ear. “Suppose we’ll have to see what house she’s sorted into first though ay?” He laughs to himself.

Riddle wants to curse the moron, he doesn’t understand a thing. This girl had been in his life for almost two weeks, and he didn’t even know she was a witch. How could he let something like that get past him?

He’s annoyed with himself. He should have been more careful. Why was she sent to his orphanage? Not one in the country? Why now? He subconsciously twirls his ring around his finger. Did she know? Was she sent to spy on him?

He watches the rest of the ceremony with polite interest plastered onto his face, yet a burning rage inside him screams for them to hurry up. He wants to march across the great hall, grab the sorting hat from that stupid old fool and shove it onto her head, find out what house she would be in and pull the secrets from her head.

He sighs watching as another first-year clambers to the stool. This is taking too long, he thinks impatiently.

He starts to wonder what her name is, as more and more first years are called and she’s left standing there. Unless she’s not getting sorted, he thinks. Perhaps they’ve messed up.

His eyes narrow more and more as time passes, until eventually her names called. Amelia Smith.

She walks, no struts to the front. She’s certainly arrogant he thinks with a scoff. She lowers herself onto the stool, crossing her legs in a scandalous way, her skirt rising showing way more leg than appropriate. Riddle smirks, is that to show she doesn’t care or to tease the boys?

He hears Nott let out a hum of appreciation as Mulciber leans forward eagerly.

Riddle’s interest starts to become anger, the hat is taking it’s time in deciding her house. Of course, she would be a hat stall, he thinks bitterly. Just pick a damn house already. His agitation increasing the longer they wait. He doesn’t like not knowing, it puts him on edge.

The entire hall seems to have stopped breathing, everyone staring at the girl, Smith, curiously. Eventually the hat calls out “Hufflepuff.” Riddle lets out a huff, he’s a little disappointed if truth be told. A Hufflepuff? She won’t be of any use to them, no one in Hufflepuff was worthy of the title witch or wizard. And to think he was worried about her spying on him. They might as well snap their wands the moment the hat sorts them into that pathetic house he thinks, smirking at the thought. She’s no fret to him at all.

He leans back more relaxed now than before, he might be disappointed, but his relief overpowers that dramatically. The appearance of genuine food helping too.

Nott leans towards him with a dissatisfied expression. “Shame that, I thought she looked interesting. What a let-down.”

Riddle smirks at him, what a let-down indeed.

#tom riddle #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x original character #tom marvolo riddle #ao3fic #hufflepuff x slytherin #slytherin x hufflepuff #transmogrification of a not yet lord #transmogrification chapter 3 #Tom Riddle POV #original female character

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Transmogrification of a Noy Yet Lord - Chapter 3 Snippet (Amelia POV)

They enter the small stone passage the one the first years wait in to be collected before the sorting. Amelia recognising it fondly, this is where she first met her friends. Though this time it’s a little more awkward, the tiny first years all stare at her expectantly as though she’s going to be taking them into the hall. When she moves to stand with them their looks turn from expected to bewildered. Same, she thinks, noting she’s about twice the height of most of them.

This is going to be embarrassing she groans internally glancing at their heigh difference, she stands out like a hippogriff in a unicorn den. It doesn’t help she’s beyond nervous, this is going to be people’s first impression of her, what if the sorting hat said she couldn’t be sorted again? What if it could tell she was from the wrong time?

She chews her lip anxiously before straightening her shoulders. Who cares what the sorting hat thinks? She’s been admitted to this school, she needs to be here, it knows she’s magical it can’t stand in the way of her finishing her education. And so what if she doesn’t get sorted back into Hufflepuff, she’s sure the other houses are just as comfortable. This is a new her, a new decade, a new life. She can start again, no one knows her here, no one has expectations of thoughts of how she should act or who she should be.

Suddenly Dumbledore calls them forward and she marches with the – smaller than she remembers – 11-year-olds into the great hall.

As soon as they appear there’s a scattering of chatter. There always is but this feels more intense, perhaps it’s her brain playing tricks. She knows it’ll be her they’re talking about so everything feels more intense.

Yet she knows the murmurs buzzing around are definitely about her, the people pointing and staring make that more than obvious. She rolls her eyes. They could at least try and hide it a little she thinks grumpily, do they no have manners?

She waits patiently as names start to get called, one by one students clamber to the tiny, wooden stool, their faces pale and nervous as the hat covers their heads before assigning them a house.

When they reach the S’s Amelia’s nerves start to build one more, she waits, fighting the urge to bite her nails but her name doesn’t come. Did they forget about her? Why aren’t they calling her? Oh fuck, don’t say they’ve changed their mind and she’s going to have to walk out of here shamefully.

She’s debating on telling Dumbledore, he’s the one placing the hats on the students heads in this decade, but she doesn’t want to draw more attention to herself. She sucks her cheeks in wondering what to do when it hits her. They’re leaving her until last. Ugh, why would they do that? It’s already embarrassing enough as it is. She closes her eyes taking a deep calming breath. Dippet is an arsehole for drawing more unwanted attention to her.

The worst thing is this ceremony feels like it’s been going on forever. How many bloody students were joining? Finally, the last first year gets sorted into Slytherin, cheers erupting from the green table when Dumbledore turns to her with a kind smile. “Smith, Amelia.”

The room falls deadly silent. You could hear the ghosts floating if you listened close enough.

She lifts her chin, striding confidently towards the stool. She’s got nothing to be embarrassed about, she thinks, this is something they’ve all got to do. She sits down as gracefully as she can manage, automatically crossing her legs.

She holds her head high whilst simultaneously wishing she would drop through the floor into the kitchens and just live with the house elves.

Amelia glances around at the students staring at her intently, all of them watching her avidly when she feels Dumbledore place the hat onto her head.

She hears the familiar voice echoing through her brain.

“Hmmm… you’re a strange one. Amelia Smith. Looking in your head you’ve been sorted before. I don’t remember you. You’re not from this time. How strange. You were a Hufflepuff, still are a Hufflepuff. But you’ve developed some new traits. You’re brave, you’ve had to be with what you’ve faced you’d do well in Gryffindor, alas you’re not brash enough.” Hechuckles.

 “You’re smart too but so are many of the other students in other houses. I think Slytherin would suit you well. Don’t scoff it’s impolite. I believe you’ve had to adapt to keep yourself alive. You’ve become cunning and ambitious, they’re not bad things. So reluctant to hear the truth. But not to worry, I see you’re still a Hufflepuff at heart your greatest attribute is loyalty, and you’re a hard worker. Yes, better be…”

“Hufflepuff!” The hat shouts aloud. There’s a ripple of polite clapping from around the hall, bigger claps and some cheers from the Hufflepuff table. Amelia smiles at them gratefully, always the welcoming house. She thinks, glad she’s sorted into Hufflepuff once more.

She starts to make her way towards the table, spotting her friends on the Gryffindor one as she walks past. Hattie pouting, William clapping and Annie waving.

She thinks she’s going to like it here, Amelia thinks, taking her seat at the Hufflepuff table as people introduce themselves enthusiastically.

#tom riddle fic #tom riddle x original character #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #ao3fic #hufflepuff x slytherin #slytherin x hufflepuff #transmogrification of a not yet lord #transmogrification chapter 3 #original female character

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Transmogrification of a Not Yet Lord - Chapter 2 Snippet

Amelia’s quickly pulled from her thoughts by someone clearing their throat. She jumps at the unexpected sound turning to see the young man who was reading the magazine suddenly leaning against the doorframe of the room he was occupying, his eyes scrutinising her suspiciously.

“Can I help you?” He asks in a tone that says he really can’t be arsed helping her, so she better say no. Be that as it may, Amelia does need help and he seems to work here. Or he’s a resident and can point her in the direction of someone who can.

“Hello, yes, I’m Amelia Smith. There should have been a letter sent about me. My other orphanage was destroyed in the bombings. I’m meant to move in here.” She says as cheerfully as she can though she feels timid as the man looks down his nose at her.

She starts to fidget uncomfortably, the man not showing any sign he’d heard her never mind any intention to help her. She’s just about to ask if there’s someone she can talk to when he shuffles towards her his lips pursed.

“Well Miss Amelia Smith. I think I do know about you. Wait here and I’ll get Mrs Cole. She’s the matron.” He tells her before shuffling off.

Amelia sighs a breath of relief; she doesn’t know why but he put her on edge. Perhaps that was his intention, she thinks, he wanted to let her know where she stood and that, according to him, was beneath him.

Amelia takes the time to once again look around herself, to get acquainted with her new home. She doesn’t hold much hope for it. It’s as grey inside as it is outside, the faded wallpaper is falling down, there’s cracks in the ceilings and a smell of damp wafts through the room. Plus everything seems to echo around her, as though she’s stood inside a large, cold cave. A chill goes through her at the thought. She doesn’t like the way it makes her feel empty and cold, as though she’s alone in the world.

“Miss Smith?” A sharp voice calls out. Amelia spins around to see a woman who appears to be in her late 30s or early 40s, with dark greying hair pulled back into a severe bun and an overall strict appearance, march towards her.

“Yes.” Amelia mumbles nervously. This woman doesn’t seem like someone to trifle with.

“It’s yes matron.” She snaps at Amelia, her eyes narrowing into a glare that causes Amelia’s legs to tremble slightly. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.”

Amelia barely has time to process her words before hurrying after whom she assumes is Mrs Cole, considering the stern woman didn’t introduce herself. She’s already half way up the stairs before Amelia has even reached the bottom. Mrs Cole does not seem like a woman to cross.

They climb toward the second floor, Amelia glad she’s used to the stairs at Hogwarts considering Mrs Cole practically ran up both flights without checking Amelia was following, before heading to a small room with a single, uncomfortable looking bed in one corner and a basic wooden wardrobe in the other.

“This is yours. Keep your things in here, nowhere else. There are three uniforms assigned to you to wear, do not wreck them because you won’t get more. You may wear your own clothes on occasion, but we discourage it.” She says gruffly before turning and walking back out into the hallway. Amelia isn’t sure whether to stay put or follow her, she quickly decides to follow, it might be worse if Mrs Cole has to come back for her rather than just telling her to get lost.

“This is the bathroom. You will leave your wash things in your room, or the other children will use them.” She quickly leaves the bathroom starting back down the hall. Amelia doesn’t even get a chance to look at the bathroom properly. “Don’t worry boys are on the third floor, so there won’t be any chance of them coming into this bathroom. If they do you’ll tell me or one of the other staff members.”

Amelia nods. Although she hadn’t been worried, she assumed there was a lock. Is there not a lock?

“Mealtimes are 8 for breakfast, 12 for lunch and 5.30 for dinner. Do not be late, you won’t get food any other time. Do not waste any of your food, the rations we get are sparse and I won’t abide by fussers or those that don’t eat what they’re given.” She snaps. Normally that type of attitude would annoy Amelia, but she supposes it’s more than fair considering they don’t have food to waist whilst on rations. The realisation she’s currently residing in an orphanage in the middle of London during World War 2 sending a horrifying shudder down Amelia’s spine.

“You’ll go to your room at 9, lights out by 10 the latest. Sundays are wash days.” Wash days? I hope she doesn’t mean one shower a week, Amelia thinks in horror. “Chores are to be completed. We’ll tell you what you got to do each week, you get up and you do your job daily, no moaning. Is that understood?”

Amelia nods weakly. Mrs Cole glares at her, her nostrils flaring.

Amelia clears her throat before stammering out a nervous. “Y-yes Matron.”

Thankfully Mrs Cole seemed appeased by her respond and briskly walks away. Amelia following behind.

“What are you following me for girl? Go and get settled in your room. You can rest today but tomorrow you’ll start helping around here.” She orders before storming off.

Amelia sighs feeling unwelcome. Sadness grips her as she walks back to her small room, chewing the inside of her cheek. She’d left her sad life, the one where her friends and family suffered daily and so many of her loved one were hurt but is this any better? She’s alone, in the middle of a war with nothing but a dictator as a guardian.

Just as Amelia steps onto the staircase heading back towards her room, she almost collides into someone.

She looks up with wide eyes to a see a handsome young man, gorgeous actually, staring at her. His eyes are a beautiful deep blue, contrasting beautifully against his pale complexion and dark curly hair, his face chiselled and mesmerising. He’s very tall too, Amelia – who’s not exactly small – has to crane her neck to stare up at him, she sends him an apologetic smile a blush coating her cheeks at his appearance. She’s about to apologise when she sees his face contort into a snarl.

“Watch where you’re going.” He spits at her.

Amelia’s mouth drops open at his rude attitude. She stunned into silence at his rudeness, she almost falls as he shoves past her without even looking her way. What a rude prick, she thinks glaring at his back before continuing to her room.

She hopes she isn’t going to see more of that idiot. He might be beautiful but he’s not someone she wants to spend time around. She can’t abide but horrid people.

She manages to stumble back to her small room, she needs to wrap her head around everything that’s happening, of where she is and what’s going on.

#tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x original character #tom riddle #ao3fic #hufflepuff x slytherin #slytherin x hufflepuff #transmogrification of a not yet lord #transmogrification chapter 2 #time travel

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Transmogrification of a Not Yet Lord - Chapter 1 Snippet

Amelia ran, her legs burning and her chest heaving with the effort of running as well as the emotion bubbling inside of her. She needs to get away, she can’t think straight. How had this happened? She thinks.

Harry Potter had been killed by Lord Voldemort. She can’t breathe. She needs to escape, somewhere, anywhere. She needs to get away from the death eaters and the image of Harry’s limp body in Hagrid’s outstretched arms. The way hope seemed to die on everyone’s faces as they stared at the boy who lived, now dead.

She doesn’t remember leaving, she just remembers seeing Harry’s body and the need to get away. The urge to throw up overwhelming her. She couldn’t face that, she didn’t want to face that, her friend dead, hope dead. So she ran, she ran as fast as her legs could  carry her until finally she stopped.

Amelia finally looks around wondering where she’d ran to, she sniffs back tears as she realises she’s in the headmaster’s office. Yet Snape is nowhere to be seen, probably at the Dark Lord’s side she thinks bitterly. It’s strange though, normally the office is locked behind the stone gargoyle but it must have been open, Amelia doesn’t know the password to get in.

Amelia walks around the room glancing at the different objects. It’s odd how little it had changed since Dumbledore died, a lot of his things remaining in place. Maybe it wasn’t his stuff, she ponders, perhaps the trinkets get passed down from headmaster to headmaster.

Still, she thought Snape would have gotten rid of anything even linked to Dumbledore. This all certainly reminded her of her old headmaster. She sighs making her way over to the desk in the middle of the room, her legs aching from the run. She needs to sit down, to process everything that’s happening. What her plan of action is going to be.

Unfortunately her eyes are strained from crying, meaning she trips on the step before her. She stumbles haphazardly towards one of the displays at the side of the room. She throws her hands out in front of her, hoping it will reduce the impact of her fall and not damage too many of the objects before her. However, she still hits the shelves full force, knocking the silver instruments, potions and what seems to be ruin stones to the floor with a loud bang, her in the middle of it all.

Just before she hits the ground she feels a sick pulling sensation at her navel, the world spins around her and she can’t figure which way is up or down.

It must be the adrenalin from the battle, she thinks. Her head still whirling uncontrollably.

She lies on the floor trying to catch her breath and calm her mind. She’s not sure how long she lies there for, but it must be a while considering the world is spinning faster than normal.

Slowly she opens her eyes, running a hand over her head. Odd, its bright daylight now, the sun was only just starting to rise when she walked in there. She must have been out for hours. Slowly she manoeuvres herself into a sitting position. Noticing as she does so, a lack of mess around her. No potions or instruments. No evidence of her clumsiness. Maybe someone came in cleaned up around her.

A wave of nausea suddenly hits her, causing her to double over clutching her stomach. She’s just glad she’s still sat down as she wobbles a little, the dizziness hitting her forcefully. Slowly she starts to rise from the floor, gripping the shelves beside her for support.

Amelia groans as she moves her arms and legs, she’s aching all over though she doesn’t know if it’s from the impact of the fall or from the previous battle. Probably a mix of both, she concludes.

She stretches her arms and legs before glancing around the room, something is off. This is the headmaster’s office alright, but it’s different. Like things are missing or changed. She can’t quite put her finger on what though.

She sighs shaking her head slightly, she must be concussed.

Perhaps the death eaters had raided it after they won. No that couldn’t be, they won they wouldn’t need to raid it, it was there’s now. They probably wouldn’t have left her alive either.

She looks down at her clothes. She’s wearing her wide leg jeans and a Nirvana t-shirt. Both now, unfortunately, ripped in places, scorched in others and completely covered in blood and dust.

She sighs thinking how much she loves this top. If only Voldemort could have given them enough notice to change into their scruffs.

Oh well she thinks, we’ve lost more important things than band t-shirts. The thought stabbing at her heart. She reluctantly wanders towards the door. No need to put off the inevitable, the quicker she does this the quicker it’ll be over with.

She saunters through the corridors trying to find someone, anyone who can tell her where they stood now. What was happening with the magical world, are they about to be carted off to Azkaban? Tortured for years until they’re insane? What was going to happen?

But there’s no one. Nothing. Literally nothing, no rubble, no bodies. Nothing to suggest a battle had just taken place. It looks like a nice normal sunny day at Hogwarts. It makes her feel sick to her stomach. That’s something she can never have again.

There’s no one around, none of the students, the order or death eaters. How long had she been out? As she turns another corner, she hears footsteps and a curious voice calling out.

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

Amelia spins in shock at the calm polite tone. She nearly falls flat on her face when she sees who’s speaking.

Albus Dumbledore is stood in front of her, clear as day. But he looks strange, his hair isn’t his normal silver, instead it’s auburn with streaks of grey. He has a beard, but it’s nowhere near as long as when she knew him. He stands starting at her waiting for her to say something.

Amelia doesn’t know what to say or what to do. How is this possible?

Then it clicks. Hogwarts was as warm and welcoming as when she first arrived. No bodies or death eaters fill the corridors and Dumbledore is stood in front of her.

She was dead.

#Tom Riddle fic #Tom Riddle x original character #Tom Riddle #Slytherin x Hufflepuff #tom riddle fanfiction #enemies to lovers #time travel #ao3fic #Transmogrification of a not yet lord #Transmogrification chapter 1 #chapter snippet

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It’s a secret recipe 🤫

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posting niche fic on ao3 is like releasing a small creature into the wild and hoping it survives and finds sustenance

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reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

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sirius: HELP I BURNED MY HAND

peter: quick, put it on something cold!

sirius: *puts hand over regulus’s heart*

sirius: ahh much better!

regulus:..i hate you

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my least favorite marauders headcannon:

peter betrays them and everyone dies