"Wake up, Tom!" a very familiar voice shouted into his ears. "It's about to begin!"
"What?" The boy's eyes fluttered open, and he sat up straight. He looked around, oblivious, as if he had been sleeping for days. The boy could remember nothing of where he was or, more importantly, who he was.
"Who am I?" he asked in an innocent voice that did not belong to him.
A red-haired boy spat out pumpkin juice and burst into laughter.
"Eww, Ron!" A girl with bushy brown hair glared at the former in disgust.
"You're Tom Riddle!" a boy with jet-black hair replied. They were seated against a long table littered with delicacies.
The voice came from opposite him. It belonged to Harry Potter!
Tom stared at The Boy Who Lived as if he had seen a ghost. To Harry's left sat Hermione Granger who eyed him with concern. Ron Weasley still sniggered from Tom's right. The sleepy outburst had somehow triggered a spurt of laughter in him.
The boy's head reeled for a moment, and he felt a migraine coming. Memories flooded back into him.
Of course! Harry Potter and the Wizarding World! One of the most popular fantasy franchises of all time!
But… But… How was he in it? And why did Harry call him Tom Riddle? His head was muddled with these questions.
Was he dreaming? Yes, that would make sense. But it was incredibly realistic!
"Are you okay, m'boy?" an almost transparent man asked him while floating above the table. It was Nearly Headless Nick!
"Tom is fine, Sir Nicolas," Hermione replied, smiling. "He's just tired from the train journey. Have you had a good summer?"
"Oh, it was pathetic, dear! They just wouldn't let me join the headless hunt. Technicalities! Thanks for asking. Anyway, I hope all of you know the sorting was delayed. The welcome feast before the sorting ceremony! This has never happened before. Pity, the Minister for Magic called on the Headmaster with urgent business. Never mind, the tradition will resume shortly…" Nearly Headless Nick floated away, muttering to himself.
"Are you okay, Tom?" Harry asked, putting down his dessert spoon on the table.
The boy nodded. His head felt better now, and he had a good understanding of what had happened to him.
Clearly, he had been isekai-ed into the wizarding world as Tom Riddle!
Just then, the usher called out. "The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore!" Everyone stood as a tall old wizard with a flowing beard walked in.
Since when did Hogwarts have an usher?
Tom looked around, surveying the Great Hall. Most things were the same as the movies and the books: the floating candles, the enchanted ceiling, the house tables, the Hogwarts uniforms. At the staff table, Dumbledore took the Headmaster's chair. Beside him were Snape, McGonogall, and Flitwick, among others. Hagrid was mysteriously absent.
Tom turned towards his new friends as everyone took their seats. Harry, Hermione, and Ron resembled Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Rupert Grint. But they were somehow different.
Harry was not as handsome as on the screen and was skinnier. Hermione had bushy-brown hair with slightly large front teeth. Ron looked like a bum, as usual.
Clink! Clink!
Dumbledore raised his glass and began. "Apologies to one and all present. Especially to our young first-years, eager to learn magic. You were supposed to be sorted by now. Alas, the Ministry matters were too urgent to be postponed." He paused and smiled in Tom's direction. "However, it seems some of you have made friends already."
Tom felt a bit queasy. Did Dumbledore know the boy did not belong there? Wouldn't it be possible for the greatest wizard ever to see through the magic of Isekai?
Of all individuals in the wizarding world's history, he had to be brought back as Tom Riddle? The future Lord Voldemort? Why?
"Minerva, would you kindly take over?" the old man urged. He was weary, although his spirits were high as usual.
"Certainly, Headmaster."
Professor McGonagall stood up sharply and walked around the staff table.
She raised her wand to the side, and a wooden stool floated to the stage. On it sat a tattered, old wizard hat.
The sorting hat broke into song as soon as the seat was perched on the floor.
The musical words were odd and spoke of Hogwarts' past and worlds merging. The song was vague and almost prophetic.
McGonagall turned to the students with a stern expression. "First years, come to the stage when your name is called. You will be sorted into four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."
There was a hush in the student crowd. Tom gulped in anticipation.