— — — — — —
In the end, old man Newt still agreed to Tom's request.
Having lived through the chaos Grindelwald unleashed on the wizarding world, Newt understood one truth better than most: never let capable people go off the rails. The fallout would always be more than ordinary folk could bear.
And Tom—Tom was exactly that kind of person. Brilliant, dangerous, and prone to… unpredictable decisions.
Even if Newt said no, would that really stop him? Of course not. Tom would just go looking for it on his own, and if anything went wrong, maybe not another wizarding war, but plenty of lives would still end up paying the price.
So, Newt decided he had to help.
It didn't take him long to come up with a proper solution. Go through official channels. He'd arrange for Tom to be entrusted with a few Pandas under the guise of "research and observation." As long as Tom provided periodic reports and updates on their health, no one would question it.
Tom couldn't help praising him after hearing the plan.
Leave it to Newt—coming up with something workable that quickly. Tom himself could never have pulled it off. In the magical creatures field, he had nowhere near Newt's reputation. On his own, people wouldn't even bother listening to him. It would've ended with spells flying, not paperwork.
『Tom Riddle』: Then please hurry, sir. If this drags on, I won't be able to wait. This talent is too important to me.
『Newt Scamander』: You really have no idea how to ask for help, do you…
『Tom Riddle』: Come on, between us? If I started acting polite, would that really make you happy?
Newt shook his head with a quiet laugh.
"That boy…"
It was true—if Tom ever started treating him with formal courtesy, Newt would still admire his talent, but he wouldn't be worrying about him like this, more than he even worried about his own grandchildren.
Tom wasn't kindhearted, nor did he have the quiet loyalty of a true Hufflepuff.
But from the very first time they'd met, Tom had shown him trust by revealing his gifts. And Newt had accepted that trust in full.
You give me trust, I give you the same. That was the Hufflepuff way.
...
"How to defeat a Panda?"
With the most difficult part now in Newt's hands, Tom felt much lighter. He trusted Newt not to take too long. In the meantime, though, he had to figure out how to handle his appetite.
How could any stomach hold thirty pounds of food?
It was a magical problem, so of course it needed a magical solution. His mind raced with ideas.
The simplest fix? Shrink the food. Smaller bites meant he could eat more.
But size-changing spells didn't actually change the total weight of an object. Gamp's Laws of Transfiguration were clear on that: the mass didn't vanish. Shrinking charms only hid the weight until the magic wore off. Any proper trial would almost certainly count that as cheating.
The second idea was enlarging himself. A bigger body meant a bigger stomach, which meant more food.
But that wasn't realistic either. Enlarging a person was one of the most dangerous types of magic. Wizards could technically be seen as magical objects—extremely complex ones. That's why Animagi were so rare. And if he wanted to grow as big as Hagrid? That would take years of research and practice.
The last option: enhance digestion.
Eat faster, digest faster, burn more, and keep eating.
"Looks like it comes down to Slytherin's legacy…" Tom muttered, his thoughts sharpening. "I need to be Monkey D. Tom of the Wizarding world."
...
Next, he poured most of his energy into studying the bloodline magic in Slytherin's legacy. That inevitably dragged him deep into potion theory, which meant he was practically pestering Snape every day.
Snape always looked annoyed, but he never turned Tom away. In truth, both were benefitting—Snape got access to ancient Slytherin knowledge, and Tom advanced quickly.
"Slytherin must have been a potion master beyond compare," Snape finally admitted after weeks of study. For someone as proud as him, especially in his own field, that was no small praise. He never spoke highly of Slughorn, after all—at best calling him a plodding, unimaginative man.
But after praising Slytherin, the bat man wasted no time turning his sharp tongue on Tom.
"Then tell me, why didn't you mention his potion work in your History of Wizarding World?"
"Because that book's about the entire Slytherin family, not his personal biography," Tom replied without looking up, still scribbling notes.
"Then write one. You're a Slytherin student—you have a duty to spread your House's true legacy and correct the misconceptions."
Tom looked at Snape.
"Professor, do I look like I've got time for that?" Tom sighed, gathering his things. "But don't worry. I'll make Slytherin's name great again. You have my word."
And with that, the boy left.
Snape clicked his tongue, then turned back to his own notes. He, like Firenze and Magorian, now faced the same problem: his student was learning too fast. If he didn't keep up, soon he wouldn't even be able to answer Tom's questions.
---
And in a few days, Tom really did what he promised.
Tom ended up publishing more articles about Salazar Slytherin and the Gaunts.
His History of Wizarding World gained even more attention, reigniting fierce debates about blood purity. Supporters of redefining pure-blood status were waving Tom's work like a banner.
As a bonus, the progress on his trial shot past forty percent—far quicker than he'd expected.
---
Up in the castle, on his way to the Room of Requirement, Tom passed Filch chewing out students again over muddy footprints on the floor—for the third or fourth time that week.
Easter holidays were just around the corner. Afterward, Hogwarts would be hosting exchange delegations from two other wizarding schools.
It was the first time in decades Hogwarts had opened its doors like this, and even the professors were nervous. Everyone wanted the school to look its best.
Old, useless decorations were being replaced. At night, house-elves rode broomsticks along the outer walls to scrub them clean. The basilisk's damage had been repaired and, thanks to Flitwick's clever aging charms, the brand-new stonework blended seamlessly into the rest of the castle.
As for Tom's suggestions to Professor McGonagall about more exams? Those clearly wouldn't be implemented this term.
Not that he was in a hurry. The last time he'd gone to her office, he'd seen her preparing midterm exams.
"..."
A moment of silence for the poor students.
"Riddle."
The moment Filch spotted him, the caretaker's expression softened. He even greeted him warmly.
"Don't worry, Mr. Filch." Tom lifted a foot and showed his spotless shoe. "I'm clean. No trouble today."
"You are a good boy, Riddle."
...
Inside the Room of Requirement, blood-red mist swirled out of a cauldron, carrying a strange, unsettling aura. Tom stirred slowly with his wand, only stopping when the last wisp of mist vanished.
The liquid solidified into a translucent, springy jelly that looked disturbingly like crimson Jell-O.
"Take a bite?"
The thought flickered across his mind, then vanished just as quickly.
Merlin only knew what he'd actually brewed. Testing it on himself? He wasn't that reckless. He wasn't Grindelwald.
Thankfully, when he'd been gathering ingredients—and human test subjects—for Grindelwald last time, he'd quietly set two aside. Otherwise, he'd have had to recruit a volunteer from the castle, which… would've been awkward.
And yes, Grindelwald really did ask for humans to try his experiments on. That was why Vinda had been assigned the task.
"Let's pick you."
From his pocket world, Tom pulled out a test subject—one of the prisoners Rosier had smuggled from Bastille. As for whether Tom felt any guilt using a human as an experiment? Hardly. This one had tortured an entire Muggle family into madness with the Cruciatus. No sympathy deserved.
He cast the Imperius Curse, forced the man to drink, and set quill to parchment.
{36 seconds}
Subject's face reddened, twisted in discomfort. Pain level: low.
{1 minute 40}
Expression normalized, body swelling, magical aura shifting.
{2 minutes 26}
Subject cast a spell. Magic output noticeably stronger. Potion effect engaged.
{5 minutes…}
When it was over, only blood and bits of flesh remained on the floor.
---
Tom sighed and shook his head.
See? That's why you never self-test. The subject had bled out before fully converting. The transformation consumed the potion unevenly and collapsed. Balance was key.
And the pain had been obvious—he'd need to add some numbing powder to keep that in check.
Jotting down the main issues, Tom realized every ingredient ratio would have to be recalculated. That would be no easy task.
So he decided to cheat a little.
He entered the Meditation Room. Turbo mode, on.
Time blurred....
..
By the last day before Easter, while students were already celebrating the end of classes, Tom's experiments had finally reached a breakthrough.
This time, the subject showed no adverse reaction. Tom let out a long breath and even smiled.
"At last… a stable result."
From his shared vision, Grindelwald had watched the entire process. He stroked his chin with a half-smile. "You're a strange one, boy. Who else would even think of something so twisted?"
"As long as it works, that's what matters."
Tom packed away the subject, carefully cleaned the Room of Requirement, then asked in his mind, "How are things on your end?"
"Not nearly as smooth," Grindelwald admitted. "That was Slytherin's research. It's not so easily improved."
"Then just follow his method first. Run a few proper tests. I want to see how well the fusion holds, and whether it can be controlled. Not everyone will be at their peak. There'll always be different levels of success."
"…Fine," Grindelwald said. "What are you planning to fuse first?"
"Dragons, of course. Anything weaker would be a waste."
Grindelwald couldn't help but grin.
The boy was even bolder than he'd ever been. If he had inherited this legacy, Grindelwald would've kept it tightly within his circle, never thinking of spreading it widely.
But Tom had been clear from the start: he intended to turn bloodlines into a form of currency, a system of trade powerful enough to support a new order.
And Tom had other plans—for the Acolytes, for MACUSA's strange maneuvers, for Gringotts… plenty of things where these bloodline potions would come into play. And when the time came, Grindelwald would be free to help him.
"Tom."
A dreamy voice floated up behind him. He stopped and turned. Who else but Luna?
"Where did you pop out from?" Tom raised an eyebrow. He'd just walked down this corridor and it had been empty.
She pointed to a nearby door. "In there. I was looking for you."
"Looking for me?"
"For Ginny."
"…Then why didn't Ginny just use the Codex?"
Luna blinked. "Oh. Why didn't she?"
"No, not just her. I meant you all."
"I left mine in the dormitory," she admitted.
"Figures." Tom shrugged. "Alright, take me to her."
Ten minutes later, in the courtyard garden, Ginny Weasley came running the moment she spotted him. She looked smug, clutching a crumpled piece of parchment.
"Finally! I found you. I've got it—what you wanted."
"The Marauder's Map?" Tom raised his brows as he took it from her. He'd been so busy lately, he'd nearly forgotten about it.
"I gave you two weeks. You took six."
"Not my fault," Ginny huffed. "George and Fred are slippery. Took me forever to find something to use against them."
Tom drew his wand and tapped the parchment.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Ink bloomed across the surface, spreading until the detailed black-and-white layout of Hogwarts appeared, tiny names moving across it.
Perfect. The real thing.
Satisfied she hadn't been tricked by the twins, Tom nodded, then glanced at Ginny.
"Alright, tell me. What dirt did you have on them that made them give this up?"
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Mass release in progress~ Keep the stones rolling! (I'll post them no matter the rank, but hitting top 10 would be awesome!)
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