Harry Potter and The Heir of the Shadow Throne

The Gryffindor common room was warm, its towering stone walls illuminated by the golden glow of the crackling fire. Plush armchairs and cozy sofas were scattered around the room, filled with students still buzzing with excitement from the Sorting and the feast.

The large windows showed the darkened castle grounds beyond, but inside, everything was rich with deep reds and golds, the flickering light reflecting off the Gryffindor banners that hung proudly from the ceiling.

First years were still buzzing with excitement, talking about the Sorting, the feast, and how unreal it all felt. I kept quiet, pretending to listen while my mind replayed what happened earlier.

The Sorting Hat. That voice. That hesitation.

"This wand… this presence… child, you are something quite different"

Even now, the words lingered in my head. The Hat had seen something in me, something it didn't fully understand. And considering how old that thing was, that wasn't exactly comforting.

As I followed the first years into the common room, I had to admit Hogwarts was even more breathtaking on the inside. The high-vaulted ceilings, the enchanted torches, the way every hallway seemed to whisper with its own history. It was hard to believe this was going to be my home now.

Ron and Harry found seats near the fire, waving me over. I sank into an armchair, watching as they chatted animatedly. I was still getting used to seeing them in real life instead of on a page or a screen. Ron was dramatically reenacting Malfoy's scowl, while Harry tried not to laugh. I smiled but stayed silent.

"I swear, he looked like he just drank a whole bottle of sour pumpkin juice," Ron said, twisting his face into an exaggerated version of Malfoy's sneer. "'My father will hear about this!'"

Harry chuckled. "Honestly, I thought he was going to explode when you turned your nose up at him. He looked ready to challenge you to a duel on the spot."

I shrugged. "He's too used to people playing along with his little superiority act. Though, if he ever does challenge me, I might just let him trip over his own ego before I even have to lift my wand."

Harry laughed. "You might want to be careful saying that around him. He doesn't seem like the forgiving type. Bet he's already plotting revenge just because you breathed in his direction."

Ron waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, Malfoy's all talk. If he tries anything, Fred and George will make sure his hair turns pink for a week. And if we're really lucky, they'll enchant his shoes to stick to the ceiling."

I leaned back, enjoying the easy banter. It was surreal. Here I was, talking to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like I wasn't carrying secrets that could shatter that normalcy in an instant. But for now, just for tonight, I let myself enjoy it. Almost.

The warmth of the fire made my eyelids heavy, and I was just starting to drift off when

--Hidden Presence Detected--

My eyes snapped open.

For a moment, I thought I had imagined it. But then, a pulse ran through my wand just a flicker, almost like it was responding to something unseen.

I sat up straighter, scanning the room. The other Gryffindors hadn't noticed anything. But I had.

The shadows in the corner shifted, curling unnaturally like ink swirling in water. It wasn't the flickering of the fire or the way candlelight played tricks on the eyes, this was deliberate. Controlled. Like something was watching me from the dark, testing the limits of its presence.

I stiffened. It wasn't movement exactly, not like someone hiding in the dark. It was more like the darkness itself was warping, stretching, bending in a way that shouldn't have been possible.

And then I felt it.

A pulse, sharp and sudden, ran through my wand. Not a warning, not a spell but something older, something sentient. The wood beneath my fingers felt warmer, like it was breathing.

Then it spoke.

''Riddle''

It wasn't a voice in the air. It was in my head, but I knew where this voice come from, my wand.

My wand had called me.

I nearly jolted out of my seat, but I forced myself to stay still, fingers tightening around my wand. Had I imagined it? No my system had detected something. My wand had spoken. But why now? Why here? And I need to make sure that I am not hallucinating.

I glanced at Harry and Ron. "Did,.. did you guys hear that?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

Harry looked confused. "You okay?"

I hesitated, then shook my head. "Never mind. Thought I heard something."

If no one else noticed, then it wasn't the time to start a scene. I'd look into this later when I was alone. If my wand had spoken once, it might do it again, and I needed to figure out why before anyone else did.

As we sat near the fire, the conversation drifted between jokes about Malfoy and excitement about what classes would be like. I listened, half-engaged, still processing everything. The Sorting Hat had hesitated. My wand had pulsed in my hand.

Before I could dwell on it too long, Hermione appeared nearby, looking down at us with her usual air of authority. She wasn't sitting with us, no, that would imply she had time for anything other than her studies. Instead, she clutched a thick book to her chest and frowned.

"Honestly, I don't know why you aren't all reading up on Hogwarts' history instead of wasting time."

Ron groaned. "It's the first night! Let's breathe." He squinted at her, frowning slightly. "And who are you again?"

"Hermione Granger," she said promptly, straightening up as if she were presenting herself to a professor. "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley," Ron muttered, eyeing her warily. "And this is"

"Harry Potter," Hermione finished for him, her eyes widening slightly. "I hear everyone talking about you at the hall, I also read about you, of course. In Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century"

Harry looked taken aback. "Er…alright."

Hermione turned to me next, her expression curious. "And you?"

I chuckled. "Zephyr Rid. And let me guess, I wasn't in any of those books?"

She frowned slightly, as if trying to place my name in some index she had memorized. "No, actually. But" her gaze flicked toward my wand again "you don't sound like someone completely new to this wizard world but as I look around and talk to others, seem like you are just like me, not from wizard family."

Ron groaned again, rubbing his temples and chimed in. "And why do I have to listen to you? First night at Hogwarts, and I'm already getting lectures."

Hermione looked at Ron and said "The first night is precisely when you should be preparing," she huffed. "We have classes tomorrow, and I bet none of you even know how many uses dragon's blood has."

Ron made a face. "Why would I need to know that? Am I planning to drink it?"

"There are twelve uses, actually," Hermione sniffed, clearly unimpressed.

I chuckled. "I take it you already memorized the entire course syllabus?"

"Not all of it. Yet." She shot me a quick glance before her eyes flickered toward my wand. "You were gripping that pretty hard. Everything alright?"

I hesitated. She was annoyingly observant.

"Yeah. Just... adjusting to all this. It still feels surreal."

She studied me for half a second longer before nodding briskly. "You should focus on studying. Hogwarts has high expectations for its students."

Then, as suddenly as she appeared, Hermione turned on her heel and marched off toward the girls' dormitory.

Later, as the night wound down and students began heading up to their dormitories, I stayed behind for a moment, stretching out the stiffness from the long day. The fatigue was settling in, but a restless energy kept my mind alert. I glanced around the Gryffindor common room most of the first years had already made their way upstairs, the excited murmurs from the dorms fading into the background. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows along the stone walls, making the room feel both warm and eerie at the same time.

I finally pushed myself up and made my way toward the spiral staircase leading to the boys' dorms. As I ascended, the castle around me felt impossibly large, each step echoing faintly against the aged stone. The air carried a strange weight, as if the very walls held onto secrets from centuries past. It was a stark contrast to the lively energy of the feast earlier, and for the first time, I truly felt the depth of Hogwarts' history pressing in around me.

Then

A whisper.

I froze mid-step, my breath hitching. "Did I hear it again?".

Then it came again.

''Riddle''

I nearly dropped it. My grip tightened instinctively around the wood as a cold chill crawled up my spine. The voice wasn't external. It was inside my head, resonating from the very wand in my hand. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I glanced around, but the common room behind me was just as it had been warm, flickering firelight, the soft murmur of students settling down for the night.

No one else had noticed.

I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe. "What do you want?" I whispered under my breath, as if expecting a response.

Then, just as I was about to dismiss it, it happened again.

''Riddle...''

The voice was softer this time, stretched, like something distant struggling to reach me. My wand pulsed once more, the warmth lingering in my fingers as a strange pressure settled in my chest.

"Why do you keep calling me?" I muttered under my breath, heart hammering. But there was no reply.

The wand had gone silent again.

I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension. Whatever this was, it wasn't stopping anytime soon. And if it wasn't going to explain itself… I'd have to find answers myself.

I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one.

But one thing was clear this wand knew something about me that even I didn't fully understand.

And it wasn't done talking yet.

 **How about giving me a boost with some Power Stones, everyone?*