— — — — — —
Half an hour later, Tom closed his Codex with a complicated look, finally finishing his conversation with Laos.
He hadn't expected Laos to be so bold—wanting to turn the dueling class into an all-out tournament fight. He even wanted to invite other schools to join in.
'That would be interesting if it actually happened,' Tom thought, still from what Laos said, the professors were still debating it.
Shaking off his wandering thoughts, Tom stepped into the study room. The moment he entered, he noticed Grindelwald's expression looked… a little off.
"What's wrong, old G? Did Ariana scold you again?" Tom teased.
Ariana had been changing a lot lately.
Just think about the kind of teachers she had now:
The Dark Wizard.
Tom, who was regarded as dangerous.
And Andros, who believed strength was everything and magic was absolute justice.
The student those three trained together? A walking disaster.
The sweet, timid little bunny who used to hide whenever she saw Grindelwald was almost gone—
—replaced by a little firecracker who now had the guts to point at the Dark Wizard's nose and yell at him.
Of course, in front of Tom, Ariana still liked to play the good little girl.
What she didn't know was that Tom sometimes opened the study space to ask Andros or Grindelwald questions, and he'd seen her other side more than once.
Not that Tom minded—having two faces was normal for a girl. Normally, men discover that after marriage.
Still, looking at Grindelwald's sour face now made Tom want to laugh.
Probably only Ariana could push Grindelwald to the point of swallowing his pride. If it were him... well, sure, Tom spoke casually most of the time, but he wasn't about to point at Grindelwald's face and start cursing. That was still his teacher, after all.
Except this time, Tom guessed wrong.
Grindelwald's face grew even darker at Tom's teasing.
"Tom," he asked sharply, "don't you think you've forgotten something?"
Tom froze for a second. Something to do with him?
His young brain spun quickly, and before Andros had even caught on, Tom figured it out and gave an awkward smile.
"R-Right... I promised to visit you during Christmas."
"Hmph."
Grindelwald snorted. "Impressive that you, so busy with everything else, even remembered."
Andros suddenly caught on and grinned. "Don't take it personally, Tom. I see Gellert every day and still forget he's technically alive."
Grindelwald grunted again.
Andros was basically his nemesis—whether with words or spells, he could land a critical hit without even trying.
"This weekend," Tom promised solemnly, "I'll come this weekend for sure. I'll bring you something good to eat and drink."
"Bring a few bottles of Riesling and Jägermeister," Grindelwald said, finally looking satisfied and letting Tom off the hook.
"No problem." Tom agreed instantly.
The three of them went back to scheming, discussing how to squeeze more of Voldemort's secrets out of him.
Grindelwald was an expert in this field. Even when it came to dealing with Horcruxes, he had plenty of nasty tricks.
The cruelest one? Corrupting the soul inside the Horcrux. The object itself would stay intact, but the fragment of Voldemort's soul inside would be tormented endlessly.
Dirt on a body could be cleaned, but the tainting of a soul was unbearable. It could drive even the strongest-willed person insane.
Tom showered Grindelwald with praise for the idea and urged him to teach him such a useful spell ASAP.
---
On the first morning of term, the Great Hall was full of yawns. Many students had stayed up late to cram through homework and arrived straight for breakfast.
Draco Malfoy, however, was unusually energetic today. He'd clearly heard about Harry fainting last night and, the moment he entered the hall, started scanning around until he spotted a very-much-alive Harry. He immediately grabbed his two cronies and strutted over.
"Potter!"
Harry, halfway through breakfast, lost his smile the second he heard Draco's voice.
But Draco didn't care. He leaned right in and mocked, "I heard you fainted yesterday. Said it was because your scar hurt?"
"Maybe we shouldn't call you Potter anymore—Scarhead suits you better."
"Malfoy, don't push me first thing in the morning!" Harry snapped, whipping his head around. The murderous look in his eyes made Draco instinctively lean back, and it was only thanks to Crabbe's quick reflexes that he didn't fall flat on his butt.
Feeling his pride wounded, Draco glanced at the row of professors at the head table and smirked. No way Potter would dare throw a punch here. And if he did? Draco could just flop to the floor and cry victim.
"What's wrong? Did I hit a nerve?" Draco grinned. "Scarhead, I get it—you feel like your 'Chosen One' glow is fading, so now you want everyone to remember how special you are."
"Oh yeah? And you, Malfoy? The stench of your jealousy reaches all the way across the hall. You're not just jealous of me—you're jealous of Tom stealing your spotlight in Slytherin. So now you're here, trying to make yourself feel important."
"Jealous of Tom?" Draco looked at Harry like he'd just said the dumbest thing in the world.
Then he burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! You really are hilarious, Scarhead!" Draco's laugh echoed through the hall, waking up half-asleep students and drawing curious looks.
"Scarhead, you seriously have no idea what Tom's status is now, do you? For Merlin's sake, try brushing up on your pitiful excuse for magical knowledge."
Riding high on his sense of superiority, Draco left looking very pleased with himself.
Harry felt like he'd just punched a pillow. Frustrated, he turned to Ron. "Why was Malfoy laughing at me? And what did he mean about brushing up on my magical knowledge?"
Harry honestly felt stupid. Not only had he been insulted, he didn't even understand why.
Unfortunately, Ron was too busy choking on a massive sausage to answer.
"It means Malfoy thinks he's not even qualified to be jealous of Riddle," Ginny said suddenly, making Harry whip his head toward her.
"Not qualified?"
"Exactly." Ginny set down her fork and knife. Whatever shyness she once had around Harry had completely vanished — now she talked to him the same way she talked to anyone else.
"Tom is way past the level of an ordinary student now. The wizards he deals with are all big names in the magical world — a lot of them are even Dumbledore's friends. In a way, you could think of him as being on Dumbledore's level."
"If anyone's qualified to be jealous, it'd be Malfoy's dad."
Harry blinked. Tom… on the same level as Dumbledore?
That sounded way too over the top.
Ginny ignored him after that. The mention of Lucius Malfoy was enough to sour her mood all over again. Tom had already told her it was Lucius who secretly slipped the dairy into her cauldron.
'One day,' she promised herself, 'she'd hit that bastard with a Cruciatus Curse.'
---
Transfiguration Class
"Sigh… Harry." Tom glanced over as they stepped into the classroom. "Are you going to keep staring at me, or what?"
Harry snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he'd been watching Tom since they walked in. Shouldn't he have been glaring at Malfoy instead?
"N-no reason." Harry shook his head quickly. "I just… I think you're amazing, Tom. You know so many important people — and you even get to sit at the head of the table in photos with them."
Tom had no idea what was going on in Harry's head, but he still replied patiently: "Harry, you've got to see yourself clearly. Plenty of those so-called 'important people' would be shocked just to see you."
"Because of this?" Harry tapped his scar. "And if not for this, then what?"
Tom was left speechless.
Kid, why'd you have to be so brutally honest? Now everyone's awkward.
Harry understood Tom's silence and sank into his own gloom.
"How about this," Tom offered, trying to comfort him. "Once I get to writing about the Potter family, you'll feel a bit better about yourself."
Harry's eyes went wide. "The Potters are actually important enough to be in The History of the Wizarding World?"
Tom didn't get the chance to answer — Professor McGonagall had just swept into the room, a small cart rattling behind her. The clinking of glass bottles caught everyone's attention.
The class immediately sat up straighter as dozens of potion bottles floated from the cart and arranged themselves neatly on the desk.
"Each of you, come get a bottle. Mr. Riddle, not you," Professor McGonagall said briskly.
These were Fantasy Draughts — today was the first time the school would use them as teaching aids.
The school had spent a lot of money preparing these potions for students, so giving one to Tom, who clearly didn't need it, would just be a waste.
Tom didn't mind. He'd never liked the hazy, floaty feeling the potion caused anyway.
...
The students obediently lined up to collect their bottles, marveling at the shimmering golden liquid inside. Only after McGonagall explained what they were for did everyone finally get it.
"So… we can cheat at studying now?"
No one knew who said it, but it made McGonagall's face darken immediately.
"I need to correct that thinking right now. This is not cheating. At best, you could call it a shortcut — but even a shortcut requires effort on your part."
"There's no such thing as free rewards in this world."
She looked around the room sternly. "The school spent a fortune to prepare these potions. They are not here for you to be lazy. And since you now have a faster way to learn, the final exams will be harder."
"What?!"
"They're already impossible, and now they're going to be harder?"
"Can I just skip taking it?" someone asked weakly.
"You can." McGonagall smiled coldly. "And then you can get ready to retake the class next year."
"Stop wasting time. Drink your potions."
The students quickly obeyed, swallowing the potions.
The fantasy effect hit almost instantly, amplifying every stray thought in their heads until they could no longer tell fiction from reality.
Within seconds, the classroom descended into chaos.
"What the—? Is it already final exams?!"
"Mom? What are you doing here? I swear I didn't steal that money — Dad spent it on adult magazines!"
"Great-grandma?! Is that you? How are you even alive?!"
"Professor, why are you holding a goat in such a lewd way? No, seriously, put the goat down!"
"Wait—are we in my funeral? Nobody told me I was dead!"
"Merlin's beard, is that… the Dark Lord in a tutu?!"
"Neville, put the mandrake down. No, don't eat it!"
"Why is Malfoy tap-dancing on the table?!"
"HELP! If this is a dream, somebody wake me up before I start kissing Malfoy!"
.
.
.