Chapter 1 - The Wizarding Monarch

                                    

                                          
𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝡣𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍

September 1938
Staring. The most frequent and obvious gesture shamelessly bestowed upon the students and staff of Hogwarts is when the name Hestine eludes between Albus Dumbledore's teeth.
She callously walked along the browned stone marble pathway revealed by the students as they scattered to make way for the uncomfortable girl. The silence was deafening with each step scratching her posture and calmness. She wanted nothing more than to divert their judging eyes elsewhere. Alas, she reached the stool, sitting gracefully down as she felt the warmth of the sorting hat, a ragged brown and perky cone, being placed upon her head. 
Everyone waited in anticipation—for what possible house could the wizarding world's princess be a part of?
There was no way of telling as her pure blood lineage was diverse when it came to houses. Her father was in Slytherin and her mother is a veela from Beauxbatons Academy. 
"Well, well, well. It's been a while since I had royal blood to place," said the hat. "A clever mind, but a fragile soul. An Iron heart, with burning passions. Difficult truly."
Panic rose, she did not know what to do. Ideally, she would want to be Slytherin just like her father. Blood prejudice was certainly not something condoned by her mother, but was so often betrayed by her vicious father who valued it above all else. 
"Thinking about your father, you are. He was a Slytherin. A venomous snake among them in his years. But think wisely, is that what you truly desire? To create your own, or fulfill his legacy?" 
Her eyes diverted towards the Slytherin table who looked at her almost in ridicule. As if they thought she was below them. As if she had not the guts to be one of them. Though curiously enough, a boy her age looked at her with stone intent. It was not cold, no, it was curious, diverted. They locked eyes studying each other. She thought the boy handsome for his age, his features certainly above an average eleven-year-old. 
His dark brown eyes perfectly contrast with the pale color of his skin. It added to a character he could play—a mysterious boy who feels nothing under the shallow exterior of his skin. His hair was dark as raven could be, his jaw was uncommonly sharp, this may be due to how skinny he appeared to be. Nevertheless, it still materializes in the complex tranquility and harmony of his facial features. 
She then looked at the other houses, Gryffindor to Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw but remained conflicted.
Put me where I belong.
"Right, Has to be..." Anticipated by the hat. The great hall watched intently as she closed her eyes before the Hat declared, "...RAVENCLAW!" 
Everything was a blur. The screams were muffled, and their faces seemed muted. She noticed a lot of things as she descended from the great hall's steps. 
She noticed the flicker of her tie going from black to blue. 
She noticed the professor's hand pressed on her shoulder as he whispered 'Good luck'
She noticed the bow of a few students as she passed by.
But most of all, she noticed the pair of brown eyes who watched her intensely when she sat down across from him from the Ravenclaw table.
His gaze asserted dominance that was not likely to be found in someone that young.
She noticed how long their eyes stayed together until headmaster Dippet finally spoke his words of welcome. She forced herself to look away.
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
Despite this, Tom Riddle's eyes remained unmoved. 
He shamelessly roamed his eyes all over the girl's face. He studied her movements and immediately concluded her reserved manner. She sat in perfect posture. Her hands were holding each other above her knee. Her strawberry blonde hair was perfectly styled to an elegant half-up do. Her chin was steadily straight as she listened to the headmaster's protocols.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one curious about this girl. "Say Castor, who is that girl who got sorted into Ravenclaw? There's awfully a lot of tension earlier." Asked a Slytherin girl to their house prefect.
"Well, she is but only the princess of the British Wizarding World!" Exclaimed he. Tom listened with now increased curiosity. His eyes remained fixated on this girl. "The royal family descent from the lineage of Rowena Ravenclaw of course, but over the years the family's houses varied as they marry through different Noble houses."
"Care about blood purity, do they?" Asked the Slytherin girl.
"Well of course! As they should. Her father was a Slytherin himself. Married a quite scandalous nobility though. A veela." Said the prefect with a pointedly disgusted look "But I guess it comes for something, the princess looks utterly ravishing does she not? I assume it's the Veela in her."
Tom agreed silently in his head. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of gray. Her skin looked porcelain and glass, so fragile, so delicate. Her jaw was of a Greek statue, carved to perfection. And her lips...
Tom shook the thought as he listened to the Slytherin girl agree with the prefect.
"Awfully pretty it is envious!" Exclaimed she. "But disgusting too... She's a halfbreed!"
"As true as that is, she also passes for pure blood. Her mother's lineage was pure blood, only she inherited this veela form for unknown and strange reasons. In fact, her lineage was that of a great wizard from none other than Merlin Himself!" The Slytherin yelps.
"Bloody hell! A descendant of Ravenclaw and Merlin? She has a lot to live up to." Laughed the girl.
"That and she is the eldest child making her the heir. That certainly is a burden if you ask me." 
Tom's fascinated nature only continued to blossom. However, there is one more piece of information he has yet to know, but again, the Slytherin girl acts like his subconscious.
"You haven't told me her name yet." Declared she.
"Princess Astraea Carden of House Hestine. Heiress to the Wizarding throne." 
Astraea. The name echoed in Tom's mind. His eyes callously wander about the features he now memorizes.