So who wants to start?

((Well as most of the planning seems to be finished and no one's gotten around to starting yet, I suppose I shall.))

*******

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was already bustling when Tom Riddle pushed his trunk through the barrier at half past ten. He felt his shoulders relax ever-so-slightly, as they always did whenever he left the muggle world. Tom hastened onto the train to find a compartment and changed into his black robes immediately. There was no sense in dressing like a stupid muggle for any longer than was made necessary by the bloody Statute of Secrecy.

Tom gave his robes a final twitch to ensure that they looked absolutely perfect, smirking a little as he pinned the shiny Head Boy badge onto his lapel. No doubt dear Professor Dumbledore had argued against the appointment, but as usual the man's inexplicable dislike for him would have done little to sway the rest of the administration.

Satisfied with his appearance, Tom maneuvered through the crowded corridors and back onto the platform. It was slow going, since it seemed that half the student body could think of nothing more exciting than waving at him. Some of the braver ones even dared to say "hello," a trend which had started early last year after it became common knowledge that Tom had earned a Special Award for Services to the School. Everyone, Tom supposed, wanted a taste of even that minor fame. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead scanned the throngs of students for the handful of people that he counted his friends. Or future servants, if it came to that.

As had become his habit whenever he contemplated his vaguely-outlined future plans, Tom fingered the large, rather clumsily made ring he'd acquired over the summer. A slight, devious smile appeared on his face, causing a nearby first year to eye him warily.

*******

((And that's that, I suppose.))

@Olive: No you're good. Except... Bellatrix? Ach, no worries. re: Changing: I always assumed there were... bathrooms or something? Although in PS, I believe, Ron and Harry kicked Hermione out so they could change. So maybe it's whatever they feel is convenient? re: The Death of Narcissa Black: I looked it up despite your warning, and though it directly contradicts/spits in the face of a lot of notable pieces of my head!canon, it was amazing thank you for mentioning it. So... yeah I'm fine with Cissy having brown hair. I myself will probably end up being incredibly guilty of dragging in characterizations for Bellatrix (and possibly, to a lesser extent, Tom as well) from His Penumbra, which is amazing and fatastic and delicious and so, so disturbing.  

*******

Bellatrix watched idly as her sisters scurried into the train. Honestly, if Cissy was that concerned about the staring she ought to have worn something less... colorful. Or, alternatively, her Hogwarts uniform without the robes, as Bellatrix had.

"...what we really need is a champion, someone to stand up and--"

"Not now, dear," Druella hissed, frantically trying to quiet her husband. Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"At the very least we need a sensible Minister," she muttered. "Not this Bagnold pushover."

Cygnus shot her a very approving glance. "That's my girl," he said. Bellatrix smiled, catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye as she did so. She veered sharply to the right, barely remembering to shout a good bye over her shoulder.

He was standing at the edge of the platform, looking bored as ever, surrounded by a tiny bubble of space despite the openly admiring stares several other students were giving him. There was, she noticed with little surprise as she approached, a shiny Head Boy badge pinned to his robes.

"Hello," she said, a bit breathlessly, as she drew closer to him.

Tom graced her with the tiniest of nods and said, "Hello."

Bellatrix felt weirdly as though she might faint, and hated herself for it. She'd thought she was finally over this... this stupidity, but apparently the holidays had worn down her resistance. "H- had a good summer?"

He shrugged. "As well as could be expected, I suppose. You?"

"Can't complain." It took far more effort than it should have to keep her voice even and her face blank, but Bellatrix managed it. She glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but his infuriatingly omnipresent expression of smug indifference masked any real emotion.

They stood in silence for a moment, Bellatrix fidgeting despite her best efforts not to and Tom apparently immune to the increasingly painful awkwardness of the situation. He was still smirking ever so slightly and still not looking at her properly.

At last, unable to bear it any longer, Bellatrix said, "Who's the Head Girl? Anyone interesting?" Her voice came out rushed and unnaturally high, and Bellatrix bit down on the inside of her lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic, salty taste of it filled her mouth and made her stomach churn for reasons entirely unrelated to nerves.

Disinterestedly, Tom said, "I do believe it's Minevra." He turned slightly away from her, scanning the crowd. "The Gryffindor with the affinity for cats."

"...oh."

*******

I know that isn't the ideal stopping place, but I haven't slept properly in ages and my brain hurts.

I'm going to take Myrtle. Has she already been killed? Or is she killed in that year? What year is she when she's killed?

I'm slightly afriad to join. I cower in fear at the knowledge you have. I bet you know what day of the week James was born from memory. Especally you TNO. I will totally probably mess this up. Can I make a character?