— — — — — —
The same sentence, spoken by the same person, can carry very different weight depending on who's saying it.
These days, Tom's main source of credits and achievement points had already shifted away from Hogwarts and into the academic community. Every paper he published brought in returns of some sort.
Achievement points accumulated slowly as always, but credits were another story. Even if he did absolutely nothing for a month, two or three thousand would roll in on their own.
Once he'd figured out that direction, Tom temporarily shelved his lingering questions and prepared to publish a few more papers.
With international media-codex cooperation, promotion from Astra Abyssum, and coverage through the Lume-Lens news network, the impact of his work could be maximized.
That was the advantage of power.
...
After dinner, Tom spent some time playing Gobstones with Astoria. By the end of it, he'd managed to splatter cream all over the girl's face, leaving her glaring at him with watery, aggrieved eyes. Thoroughly satisfied, he slipped away at the first opportunity and entered his pocket world.
"Hisss—"
A green python slithered toward him. Tom reached out with practiced ease and stroked the snake's cool, slightly damp body.
"Nagini… just wait a little longer," he murmured. "I'd like to free you sooner too, but this blood curse of yours is a nightmare. You're already in the late stages. You've been a snake for decades. There's barely anything left for me to work with."
This great serpent was the very same Nagini Grindelwald had helped him snatch back from Voldemort. It had been half a year now since she'd been kept here. At first she'd been wary and hostile. But now she was completely tame.
Still, the blood curse had seeped into her very soul. Its power had completely reshaped her body, leaving no trace of her humanity behind. To reverse it, he would have to trace the curse back to its origin—or resort to an ancient time spell he'd only ever heard about in legend. Either way, it would be extraordinarily difficult. It might not even be possible.
So for now, all he could do was keep her by his side as a pet.
Snakes might be cold-blooded, but Nagini possessed far more intelligence than ordinary serpents. She was almost like a basilisk. And everyone knew how loyal a basilisk could be. One order from Salazar Slytherin had kept it hidden in the Chamber of Secrets for a thousand years, killing no one until Voldemort's time.
Back when Tom had first tried to tame Nagini, he'd used more than a few tricks. He'd even erased parts of her memories related to Voldemort before gradually winning her over.
---
Over the next two days, Tom published two heavyweight papers, one in Potions and one in Alchemy.
The Potions paper was titled 'Comprehensive Methods and Formulas for Processing Dragon Blood Substitutes'. The Alchemy paper was 'How to Imbue Alchemical Constructs with Greater Sentience.'
If you wanted prestige and achievement points, you had to bring out something explosive.
Dumbledore had once published 'The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood', which earned him enormous acclaim. It was even immortalized on his Chocolate Frog card.
But honestly, just look at those so-called "uses": oven cleaner, stain remover, wart treatment, an ingredient in Wolfsbane Potion, antiviral agent, perfume…
Out of all that, only the twelfth use—enhancing magical power—was truly impressive.
And even then, most witches and wizards couldn't afford dragon's blood to begin with. It was anything but cheap.
But Dumbledore's article still held high professional status. It summarized and categorized knowledge, reinforcing his authority.
Tom's paper, on the other hand, was a depth charge thrown straight into the commercial market.
For one-fifth the cost, or even less, you could achieve results only slightly inferior to genuine dragon's blood.
That was enough to reshape the market entirely.
Of course, he wasn't running a charity. Private use was none of his concern. But any commercial application would require a patent fee. If someone got greedy and tried to skip payment, and got caught…
Well. By then, they'd be begging to be sent to Azkaban.
As for the alchemy paper, it was as if he had uncovered a glimpse of a much higher truth, letting other alchemists glimpse the gulf between themselves and him & Nicolas Flamel.
At present, only he and Nicolas could create alchemical puppets with a degree of autonomous ability. Even Dumbledore couldn't manage that. Allowing others even a peek at the principles was already a tremendous act of generosity.
The day after publication was harvest season. Five hundred achievement points for one paper. Three hundred for the other. His reserves shot past six thousand in an instant.
...
On Wednesday morning, Slytherin and Gryffindor had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the term. Students began arriving more than ten minutes early.
Over the past two days, discussions about Moody had been constant. Especially concerning his magical eye, which had vanished on the very first day of term. The mystery baffled not only the students but even the professors.
Mad-Eye Moody.
Without the magical eye, what kind of Mad-Eye was he?
Moody could hear the whispers. He felt the sting, but he couldn't say a word.
Was he supposed to tell colleagues and students that Riddle had "borrowed" his eye for research?
So Moody kept his mouth shut and wore his usual stony expression. Not that he'd ever been expressive to begin with.
Even with one eye missing, the students' respect and wariness hadn't diminished in the slightest. Those from wizarding families knew his record. The rest had been thoroughly educated on it over the past few days.
More importantly, there was Severus Snape's attitude.
The entire school knew that Snape dreamed of becoming a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. In the past, he'd treated anyone who took that position with thinly veiled hostility, always cold, often throwing his weight around as a senior and lacing his words with sarcasm.
But when it came to Alastor Moody, Snape showed unmistakable wariness. The two never met alone, and whenever they crossed paths in the corridors, Snape would deliberately take a detour.
---
Ding!
The bell rang, signaling the start of fourth-year Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Moody's trademark thump-thump footsteps sounded outside the classroom as he limped his way in.
Spotting Lavender Brown flipping through 'Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection', Moody rapped his knuckles on her desk and said sternly, "Put that thing away. My class doesn't need books, and it certainly doesn't need fairy tales."
The students obeyed at once. Soon, every desk was bare.
Moody pulled out the roll and began calling names. His one good eye tracked down the list while the empty socket on the other side stayed tightly shut.
When he reached Tom's name, he paused on purpose and stared at the boy for two seconds.
Tom caught the meaning immediately. Two days were up. Wasn't it time to return the magical eye?
He gave a subtle nod. Moody finally let out a quiet breath of relief.
Good. At least that little bastard kept his word.
In truth, Tom had taken the eye purely for research. It seemed to share some similarities with his Magic Sight, allowing the user to perceive magical phenomena.
After running a few tests, he realized he'd slightly overestimated it. The eye could see concentrations of magic, but not its flow. It enhanced perception and granted x-ray vision, but that was about it.
It couldn't see through an Invisibility Cloak. Still, by sharpening observation, it could detect subtle traces and reveal that something invisible was there.
This applied to Harry Potter's true Invisibility Cloak, not the cheap knockoffs made from Demiguise hair or other materials. Those usually came with an expiration date. A few uses, or a few years, and they were done.
Even so, the eye had given Tom plenty of inspiration. He was already planning to create glasses with similar effects.
"All right," Moody said from the podium after finishing the roll call. He snapped the book shut and growled, "After accepting Albus Dumbledore's invitation, I met with Lupin. He's doing well and has settled into life with the Astra Abyssum Guild."
"He told me about your progress too. You've already picked up some solid experience dealing with dark creatures, right?"
The class nodded in unison.
"He did his job well enough," Moody said, giving Lupin brief credit before immediately changing tone. "But in my opinion, that's nowhere near enough. Because the greatest danger doesn't come from dark creatures you might see once every eight hundred years. It comes from the classmates sitting around you."
The room exploded with murmurs.
Students stared at him wide-eyed. That sounded downright alarmist.
Daphne tilted her head, blinking as she looked at Tom.
"Why are you looking at me?" Tom whispered, confused.
She giggled softly. "I think he's got a point. You're so dangerous~ Hehe~"
Tom fell silent.
Even without the magical eye, Moody could see the two flirting in the middle of the classroom. Wisely, he chose to ignore it and aimed his words at the rest instead.
"Surprised? I don't see what's so hard to understand."
"You're classmates now. But five years from now? Ten? Who knows what'll happen."
"People say I sent half of Azkaban in there. That's being generous. If you count everyone, I could fill two Azkabans. Some just didn't stay locked up for long."
"My classmates. My seniors. The descendants of my friends."
Moody's voice was hoarse. "Every outstanding wizard in Britain graduated from Hogwarts. So tell me, where do you think dark wizards come from?"
This old bastard is stirring the pot on purpose.
Tom could already see it. Gryffindors and Slytherins were eyeing each other differently now.
Gryffindors scrutinized the snakes, looking for future dark wizards.
Slytherins watched the lions warily, guessing which ones might one day haul them off in chains.
But most of the Slytherins relaxed once they saw Tom remain calm. They lifted their chins and stared right back at Gryffindor.
With Tom around, you want to arrest us?
Keep dreaming.
.
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