— — — — — —
The hallway sank into a deathly silence.
Penelope, still facing away from the door, hadn't noticed anything. She was just quietly savoring the last bit of calm.
Cho, on the other hand, was struck speechless by the scene before her.
Beside her, Marietta's breathing quickened, her face flushed scarlet. It was the thrill of drama.
She knew how close Cho had gotten to Tom recently.
'Oh Merlin… I just wanted a midnight snack, and I stumble into something this juicy? This is front-row drama at its finest.'
Would there be a fight? Could Cho actually beat a senior like Clearwater? She was a prefect, after all. Would they fight to deah for Tom's heart?
Oh-oh! Should she jump in and help? Would Tom step in? And if he did, whose side would he take?
A flood of questions overloaded her brain, leaving her standing frozen.
Tom sighed. Seeing the girls' dazed look, he decided to break the silence first. "What are you doing out here so late?"
Penelope finally turned and spotted the two girls at the door. Startled, she let go of Tom at once, fingers fidgeting nervously.
"We just came out to watch the show…" Cho's voice was low and ghostly, like something drifting in from the dark. "Otherwise, how could we witness such a heartwarming moment?"
Marietta's scalp prickled. She had never seen Cho like this—it was downright chilling. She immediately stepped back a couple of paces, just in case stray fire hit her too.
Penelope frowned faintly, her eyes flicking between Tom and Cho, uncertain.
"…Sigh."
Tom shook his head. "Well, since you've seen it, I'll have to ask you to keep this between us and Penelope."
"Me keep it secret?" Cho looked at him in disbelief. He was asking her to cover for him? Oh—was he worried about Greengrass and Granger finding out?
She knew Tom treated her as a subtle substitute when his main girls weren't around, but wasn't this too much?
"Exactly. Keep it secret." Tom nodded. "You can't let people know that because of the last attack, Penelope was left with psychological scars. Only after I killed the basilisk was she finally able to let go of that fear. She got overwhelmed and hugged me."
"But she's a prefect. She still has to maintain her image and authority if she wants to manage the younger students. You're such an understanding girl. I know you'll get it, right?"
"…Yes, I get it."
Cho's anger faded instantly, replaced by sadness. Maybe she'd been the one overestimating their relationship from the start—she wasn't Daphne, after all.
"So," Tom pretended not to notice, simply repeating his question. "Where were you two headed, anyway?"
"Ah? Oh, me and Marietta… we were hungry, so we thought we'd slip down to the kitchens for a snack."
"Then you'd better go before you starve. Just watch out for Filch—he and Mrs. Norris are patrolling the third floor tonight. I'll head back first."
Tom gave the three girls a polite nod and walked off. His stride was calm and unhurried, but somehow he vanished from the top of the tower before any of them had time to react.
Downstairs, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"If Daphne or Hermione had walked in instead… thank Merlin."
"Wait… wouldn't that scene happen when Fleur shows up soon?"
"Laos, damn you—this is all your fault!"
...
Over in the staff quarters, Laos suddenly sneezed so hard it jolted his whole body, yet he kept right on snoring.
His sleep wasn't affected at all, as if he were used to it.
...
Meanwhile, back upstairs, Penelope was smiling slyly. She hadn't expected Tom to have another hidden admirer in Ravenclaw.
"Cho, remember—this stays between us." She winked before slipping through the bronze door.
"Marietta… was everything Tom said true?" Cho asked weakly. Her brain felt scrambled, so she turned to her friend for help.
Marietta reluctantly tore her eyes away from where Tom had disappeared. She gave Cho a look of exasperated pity.
"Most of what Riddle said was probably true—for now. But think about it. He saved her life, and on top of that, you've seen what kind of boy he is. Don't you think Clearwater might… develop other feelings?"
Cho's face went pale.
She knew exactly how popular Penelope Clearwater was. It wasn't just Ravenclaws writing her love letters—students from other houses did too. Cho had even heard that Percy Weasley, the Gryffindor prefect, was openly pursuing her.
Marietta gave an awkward little laugh. "That's above my pay grade. Your situation's way too complicated. Let me read a few more romance novels first, then maybe I'll have some advice."
With her mood thoroughly soured, Cho lost any appetite for a midnight snack. She dragged a grumbling, hungry Marietta back to their dorm.
---
The very next day, The Daily Prophet ran front-page photos of Tom, Fudge, and Dumbledore standing beside the severed basilisk head—along with a heartfelt apology letter signed by Dumbledore himself.
Public opinion, as always, cared less about the details than about attitude. Both the Ministry and Dumbledore reacted quickly, and since the crisis was already over before the scandal broke, people's anger cooled faster than expected.
The Ministry cleverly shifted the spotlight onto Tom. Fudge announced in print that he would personally recommend Tom for the Order of Merlin, First Class, calling it a "bold decision" and "a sign of the Ministry's commitment to reform."
If approved, Tom would become the youngest Order of Merlin recipient in history—and not just any medal, but the notoriously strict First Class.
Overnight, his reputation soared to yet another peak. Wherever he went, eyes followed him. It was like when a classmate suddenly wins a Nobel Prize—attention was unavoidable.
Tom, however, wasn't fazed. Outside of classes and meals, he avoided crowds, throwing himself into his own projects. By the time the gossip died down, he figured, people would be used to it.
He spent hours dissecting the basilisk, sorting its flesh, scales, and carefully extracted venom. He even asked the family's house-elf to deliver some samples to Nicolas Flamel, hoping the old alchemist could produce results.
At the same time, he took advantage of the current Slytherin buzz to release the newest entry in his History of the Wizarding World: the very first "Founders Record"—the Slytherin History.
{Salazar Slytherin, medieval wizard, one of the four founders of Hogwarts.}
{The reason I published this article isn't bias from being a Slytherin myself, but because Salazar Slytherin's influence on the Wizarding world is impossible to overstate.}
{His exact homeland is unconfirmed, though it was almost certainly not Britain. The reason is simple: he was a Parselmouth, yet there were no native snakes in medieval Britain. The first solid record of vipers in the Isles only appears in the thirteenth century.}
{His mastery of magic was beyond imagination. He wielded countless spells long since lost. His full strength is unknown, but it's safe to say that aside from the other three founders, there were no peers for centuries in either direction.}
{His descendants, the most famous being the Gaunt family, carried on his Parseltongue gift and produced many formidable dark wizards. But generations of inbreeding led to their decline.}
{Notably, Gormlaith Gaunt was a powerful witch—and the aunt of Isolt Sayre, founder of Ilvermorny. In this way, Slytherin's bloodline influenced not one but two of the world's greatest wizarding schools.}
{Even today, his descendants still shape the world. Fifty years ago, it was a Gaunt heir who opened the Chamber of Secrets. His name has since become taboo in Britain, forbidden to even speak aloud: the Dark Lord.}
{The Dark Lord is mostly the only known living heir of Salazar Slytherin.}
When the article dropped, Hogwarts—and all of Britain—exploded.
The truth that Voldemort was really Tom Riddle was already known only to a select few. But that he was descended from the Gaunts, heir of Slytherin? That revelation sent jaws crashing to the floor.
Of course, Tom wasn't stupid enough to also reveal that his name was Tom Riddle. That kind of trouble he had no intention of inviting.
...
"Tom! Tom!"
It was after Potions class. Harry had just been chewed out by Snape and barely remembered a word of it. The moment he was released, he bolted, sprinting through corridors until he finally caught up to Tom in the entrance hall, panting hard.
"Hagrid's been cleared! The Ministry dropped all charges—he can use his wand again. He asked me to find you. Wants to know if you've got time this weekend. He wants to thank you for proving his innocence."
"This weekend…" Tom thought for a moment. "Saturday afternoon, then."
He had been meaning to see Hagrid anyway—the sixth trial still wasn't complete. But Hagrid had spent the past two weeks in London, fighting for his case.
Seeing Tom agree, Harry beamed. "Great! I'll tell him the good news. Tomorrow at the hut?"
"Tomorrow it is." Tom nodded.
.
.
.