It would have taken a far more discerning eye than any of the first years surrounding him possessed to have noticed the changes that overcame the scrawny body. The shoulders stiffened and straightened, the posture improved. The eyes grew cold and watchful, a sharp emerald that contrasted with the normal misty green.

Tom looked around at his surroundings as they filed out of the common room and into the first year dormitories. Slytherin, eh? He wasn't surprised. Nor was he surprised that Snape had ended up Head of House. He might prove useful later. Draco Malfoy certainly wouldn't. At least not now. The boy was nothing like his father. Lacked finesse utterly, used his name as a clumsy weapon intended to provoke respect and instead drew only derision. Tom's lip curled slightly before he calmed his expression back into the slightly befuddled one that Harry usually wore. Well. Malfoy was only eleven. Perhaps he'd learn. And if not...Lucius would be sure to draw him back into line.

From judicious eavesdropping and a careful picking through of Harry's recent memories, Tom garnered that they were rooming with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Malfoy and his cronies were in the other room. Probably a wise choice to split them this way, Tom thought with mild approval. Although it did present Malfoy with a potentially annoying echo chamber.

"Which bed you want, Potter?" Theodore Nott questioned. Tom fought the urge to tell him not to use that ridiculous surname, and instead offered to take the bed closest to the door. That felt like a decent choice, and one the other two boys accepted with equanimity. Jay stirred inside, angrily demanding that they get out of this snake-infested hell pit, but Tom ignored him. They would acclimate soon enough. Really, there wasn't a chance in hell that Harry would have ended up in Gryffindor. The Hat had been debating between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, of all places. Tom had finally convinced it that he'd rather throw the damn thing into an erupting volcano than be placed in Hufflepuff. Not surprisingly, the Hat had acquiesced.

The others weren't very happy about it. Well, those who cared. Blue tended to just go along with whatever her twin said. Kitten didn't care where they ended up, as long as she got to have her fun. Lily cared more about her dolls (which were hidden at the very bottom of their trunk, thank you very much). The others were mostly just glad that they'd gotten to school in the first place. Dursley had tried to stop them. He didn't want Harry out of his sight. He might tell, after all. In the shrouded dimness of his new four-poster bed, Tom allowed this sneer to overtake his face. As if Harry even could. He didn't remember. But Dursley didn't know that. It was Petunia who'd persuaded the walrus-like man that going against who knew how many wizards was a very bad idea, particularly after they'd already sent Hagrid. Hagrid was like an exuberant puppy, but he was large enough to give even Vernon pause.

Tom stretched out full-length, luxuriating in the soft feel of the sheets beneath him. It had been far too long. The only memories he had of Hogwarts itself were very blurry, scraps from his previous...lifetime. The reality was better, and he couldn't wait to fully explore the sprawling castle. Dumbledore was Headmaster, doddering fool, but he could work around that. For one, Albus would probably never expect his old nemesis residing in the head of the Boy Who Lived. Even if Dumbledore was aware he'd created Horcruxes (which was doubtful).

For another, Tom had no intention of jeopardizing anything. Not this time round. Too many years of living in Harry's head. The boy had rubbed off on him, and a decade of separation from his original "host," so to speak, had curbed the worst of the Dark Lord tendencies, as he deprecatingly referred to them.

Still. It was good to be back in Hogwarts, in the familiar green and silver dormitory. Oh, it had gone through renovations over the years, but it was still comfortingly similar. And at least Zabini looked like an interesting person to cultivate, even if Malfoy didn't.

Yes. Tom nodded in satisfaction. This would do nicely. He was used to staying up, to investigating what little leftovers could be found in the Dursleys' kitchen, or what new bit of information he could glean from Harry's textbooks or from the family itself (like Vernon's gambling habit-interesting, that). But the long train ride was beginning to catch up to him. He could have one night off, surely? He cast a quick locking charm around the bed curtains and settled down to sleep. Morning would come soon enough, and then he could see just how much Hogwarts had changed in the years since he'd first attended.