— — — — — —
Pain.
So much pain.
Grindelwald barely managed to curse once before plunging into an endless abyss of agony, his consciousness blurring as he mentally sent his regards to Tom's entire family tree.
Grindelwald wasn't someone who couldn't endure pain. Back in the day, to temper his will and master certain utterly vicious Dark Arts, he'd even cast the Cruciatus Curse on himself and grit his teeth through a full minute.
But this was different.
This pain surpassed the Cruciatus Curse by ten times, a hundred times. It wasn't even on the same level. It wasn't just pain anymore. It crushed the soul.
"AHHHHHHHH!!!"
Grindelwald's screams echoed through the space, and the others all… burst out laughing.
Andros laughed the hardest. He even egged Tom on to record the whole thing so he could replay it later for entertainment. Tom was busy trying to control the holy fire so it wouldn't actually burn Grindelwald to death, so he had no time to deal with him.
Ariana was genuinely happy, even going so far as to teach Andros how to record things in the study space.
She and Grindelwald might have made up, but watching him suffer like that? Forget it—she could never hold back her laughter.
Ravenclaw, however, wore an intrigued thoughtful smile. She didn't care about Grindelwald's reaction at all. What fascinated her was the holy fire itself. If it could purify the soul, did it have healing properties as well? Her soul had been severely damaged. Even if she were revived on the spot, she'd probably last only a short while before falling gravely ill and dying all over again.
The three of them stood together like a pack of villains, laughing or just giving evil smiles as they watched a poor man scream in pain.
Fortunately, there was Jeanne—the only one who remained uncorrupted—still offering kindhearted advice.
"Mr. Grindelwald, if it hurts, you should pray to the Lord," she said earnestly. "It really helps ease the pain. Trust me, I've been through it."
"Um... Jeanne, I think he can't hear you right now," Ariana said helplessly.
...
After one hour...
Grindelwald's screams were finally dying down.
Tom observed him carefully. Good. Old G hadn't passed out. And he'd endured the worst of it. From here on, it would only get better.
When Tom purified himself, it hadn't been nearly this bad. He was part of the flame itself, so being burned didn't bother him at all. Grindelwald, however, was being purified by an external force. Naturally, the situation was completely different.
...
Half an hour later, when the flames stopped actively clinging to Grindelwald, Tom knew it was over.
So why had he set aside a full day at the start?
That was for Grindelwald's recovery.
As expected, Grindelwald had been unconscious from a little after nine in the morning until past ten at night before finally waking up.
The moment he regained consciousness, he felt the difference.
The first thing was lightness. A double sense of relaxation, both mentally and physically. His whole being felt optimistic.
Then came the clarity of the world itself. His control over willpower and mental energy was smoother than ever.
Unfortunately, his will also felt far more loose. Just as he'd expected, the power of many Dark Arts had dropped accordingly.
"I feel like I've gone back to school, starting over from learning magic," Grindelwald said to Tom. "Right now, I'm a blank sheet of paper."
Tom corrected him calmly. "An old sheet of paper, full of wrinkles."
"..."
Grindelwald was already used to it. If he got angry over this, Tom's mouth would probably drive him to an early grave.
---
A new week began. Tom returned to school, while Grindelwald went to Paris, then back to Berlin, where he decisively dealt with two families that had been secretly colluding with outside forces.
Dumbledore wasn't that easy to fool. If Grindelwald didn't stir up some trouble, that man would definitely start getting suspicious.
Sure enough, news from Berlin appeared in the papers the very next day. People now understood why Grindelwald had suddenly left.
During his time at Hogwarts, Grindelwald hadn't shown much of the Dark Lord side of himself, so many had relaxed their guard around him. Now, all of it came rushing back to them at once.
With everyone's attention drawn elsewhere, the news of Crouch becoming a special advisor to the Wizarding Association didn't cause much of a stir. Only a few people took note.
Dumbledore, however, looked enlightened.
No wonder he'd seen Crouch when he confronted Fudge back then. It seemed Tom had already secured that cooperation at the time.
A very good choice, indeed.
Fudge noticed it too, but by now he'd been mostly sidelined. His influence barely extended beyond his own floor. Whether his orders even made it out depended entirely on Bones and Greengrass, so he didn't care much anymore.
"Tom, where are we going to have fun today?"
Herbology class ended in the afternoon, and Fleur was already standing prettily outside the greenhouse.
The weather had warmed up, and she'd changed into Beauxbatons' spring uniform. The blue silk fabric paired with a pale blue pointed hat made her look even more delicate. Every smile and every glance carried a natural, effortless charm.
The moment Daphne saw Fleur, her little face fell. She snorted softly and said, "Delacour, your competition is in two weeks. Instead of training, you're hanging around Tom all day. Don't you think Beauxbatons is already embarrassed enough?"
Fleur hadn't even had time to react when a third-year Beauxbatons girl who shared the class with Slytherin heard that remark. She burst into tears and ran off, immediately followed by a swarm of Hogwarts boys scrambling to comfort her.
In the second- and third-year matches, Beauxbatons had placed dead last once and second to last the other time.
Realizing she'd hit an innocent bystander, Daphne felt a twinge of guilt, but she still stubbornly craned her neck and glared at Fleur.
Fleur smiled faintly. "Greengrass, I didn't expect you to be worried about me. Thank you for the concern, but it's really unnecessary. First place in fifth year will definitely be mine."
"You're all talk," Daphne scoffed. "Hogwarts has already won twice. You don't stand a chance."
"It's not Hogwarts that's strong," Fleur corrected calmly. "It's Tom. Aside from Granger and Weasley, the other contestants aren't worth worrying about."
That single sentence left Daphne speechless.
She knew perfectly well why Ginny and Hermione had won. Well, Ginny was impressive even without Tom, but Hermione had been carried there almost entirely.
Unable to win the argument, Daphne turned to Tom with pitiful eyes.
Tom sighed and rubbed her head. "How about I take you back to London tonight for some lamb chops? The kind you like."
Daphne nodded happily, shot Fleur a provocative look, then obediently took the initiative to leave.
Tom spent time with Fleur every day. That had been agreed upon long ago. At least, the Greengrass young lady kept her word.
"You really dote on her," Fleur said sourly as she watched Daphne go.
Tom replied helplessly, "Daphne's still young. Can't you give her a little slack? You always have to provoke her."
The look Fleur gave him grew even more resentful. "Oh? So I'm bad now, is that it? I shouldn't have come at all. I should've sent Gabrielle instead. Let's see who you'd side with then."
Tom was speechless. Could her focus be any stranger?
Still…
"Fine. Next term Gabrielle can come. I promise I'll side with her, okay?"
"Oh, so you really…" Fleur started to huff, then froze halfway through. She stared at him, startled. "What do you mean, 'come next term'? Did Gabrielle tell you she's coming?"
"No," Tom said with a mysterious smile. "Madame Maxime will know in a few days. You can ask her then."
"Oh, come on, just tell me now."
"Nope," Tom said cheerfully. "Who told you to mock me just now?"
With his hands behind his back and his mood clearly improved, Tom headed toward the Forbidden Forest. No matter how Fleur chased him, pouted, or acted cute, he refused to say another word.
In truth, several schools had long wanted to restart the Triwizard Tournament, but negotiations had stalled. The biggest obstacle had been Karkaroff, who didn't dare return to Britain. Now that Karkaroff was gone, and with Grindelwald's appearance disrupting everything, the plan had been shelved again.
Tom had spoken with Crouch earlier, asking him to push the project forward. Not only that, but to expand it by bringing in the Guild as well. How far it would go depended on Crouch's ability. If it wasn't enough, Tom would add fuel to the fire himself and make sure the entire wizarding world erupted.
---
Meanwhile...
Grindelwald walked unhurriedly toward the seventh floor. Every student he passed stiffened nervously and greeted him with forced politeness. Only after he'd gone far away did they dare hurry off in the opposite direction.
After experiencing pain worse than death itself, followed by the lightness that came with purification, Grindelwald finally understood just how much killing affected him. This time, when he returned, he merely subdued his enemies and handed them over to others for execution.
The offending family was based in Munich. After everything was settled, Grindelwald strolled through the city streets. Passing by the German Music Copyright Society, he noticed a sign.
This place hadn't originally been a hotel or an association. It used to be a tavern, and a famous one at that.
He thought of a certain corporal he'd once met, and a sudden idea surfaced in his mind. Unable to restrain himself, he hurried from Berlin to Hogwarts, eager to speak with Dumbledore.
"Password."
The stone gargoyle spoke lazily, yawning as it did. "No password, no entry. I don't care if you're the Dark Lord or any other kind of lord. Everyone needs the password."
"Oh," it added after a pause, "except that kid Riddle."
.
.
.