— — — — — — —
"Young Dumbledore, don't raise your voice like that when you talk to me." Tom patted Aberforth on the shoulder, putting on an old, lecturing tone. "The future's long. You wouldn't want to ruin your reputation in your later years, right?"
"Y-yeah… that's right."
Aberforth practically ground his teeth to dust, but when he caught sight of Ariana edging closer, curiosity written all over her face, he swallowed his anger and forced himself to endure.
Joining the Acolytes and working for Grindelwald was humiliating enough. Worse, he'd already said some utterly embarrassing things before. If Ariana ever found out, whatever authority he had left as her brother would be gone for good.
Tom, pleased with his reaction, glanced around. "Where's the phoenix? Why don't I see it?"
Aberforth let out a long sigh, his tone full of helplessness. "It got cooped up for too long a while back. Last night, the moment it came back, it flapped off straight into the Forbidden Forest. We were waiting for you before heading over."
"Then let's go."
The three of them left the guild's branch and stopped by a newly opened Queen Elsa shop in town to grab a couple of coffee milk teas.
While Aberforth stepped outside for some air, Ariana quickly leaned in and whispered, "Tom, what exactly did you just play? Did Aberforth really say something outrageous?"
"Not telling." Tom ruffled her hair. Watching her puff up in annoyance, he relented just a little. "It has something to do with Grindelwald."
The moment he finished speaking, his hand snapped back like lightning. Aberforth had just turned his head toward them from outside.
Tom liked living dangerously. One day, he even planned to have Ariana show up in front of the two Dumbledores, visibly pregnant, and tell them their family line would continue.
If the two old men didn't die of anger… well, that would mean they were in good health.
"Sir, your order's ready."
The shop assistant approached with two steaming drinks, snapping Tom out of his thoughts.
Ariana looked at him in surprise. "You own this place?"
Tom shrugged. "Sort of. Last time I brought Daphne to try milk tea, she fell in love with it instantly. So Lady Greengrass had someone open a shop in town. I came up with the name."
The sweet milk tea in Ariana's hands suddenly tasted sour. She puffed her cheeks, jealousy bubbling up.
...
..
Forbidden Forest, entering from the Hogsmeade side.
Aberforth raised a hand to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle. The piercing sound cut cleanly through the woods.
Moments later, a phoenix with golden-red feathers swept down from the sky, its long tail trailing shimmering motes of light.
As it drew close, it sensed the aura around Tom. Its eyes lit up instantly, and it dove faster, wings beating hard.
Aberforth had just opened his mouth to introduce Ariana when he saw the phoenix he'd painstakingly brought back land squarely on Tom's shoulder. It bent its slender neck and rubbed against him again and again, utterly shameless.
A total simp… a simp bird at that.
The smile on Ariana's face vanished.
Now even birds were competing with her for attention?
Then again, considering Tom's special bloodline, she could understand the bird's behavior. Just look at Fawkes, her brother's phoenix, who barely seemed to recognize its own master anymore.
"Quit rubbing. When was the last time you bathed?"
While the two were still speechless, Tom had already grabbed the phoenix and lifted it down, his face full of disgust.
Wild and domesticated were really two very different things. This Phoenix wasn't nearly as clean as Fawkes.
He'd only consider cuddling it after Ariana raised it for a while.
The phoenix looked a bit aggrieved at being rejected, but it stubbornly stuck close to Tom anyway, not even sparing Ariana a glance.
In the end, Tom had to summon Usaki, mixing threats with intimidation, before the phoenix finally acknowledged Ariana as its master.
Phoenixes were said to be the most loyal companions, but even after bonding, this one still clung to Tom. Aberforth couldn't help feeling uneasy.
Was this dumb bird going to end up like Fawkes, where Tom's word carried more weight than Albus's?
"If I'd known it would turn out like this, I wouldn't have brought you along," Aberforth grumbled, clearly aggrieved. "Tom, what are you, exactly? A human… or a phoenix in disguise?"
"..."
Tom reached out, grabbed the flailing bird, and shoved it firmly into Ariana's arms. "Remember this. She's your master. If you don't listen to her from now on, don't come looking for me."
Only then did the foolish bird settle down.
"Ariana, give her a name," Aberforth said, shooting Tom a grateful look, relief evident in his voice.
Ariana closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly shook her head. "No need. She already has one. Orianna. It even sounds a bit like mine."
"That's good, that's good." Aberforth beamed. "Now that you've got a phoenix, it'll be much easier for you to come by the Hog's Head."
Even though the place had long since been turned into a branch of the Astra Abyssum Guild, Aberforth still habitually called it the Hog's Head.
Ariana blinked but said nothing. What she was really thinking was that once the tournament ended and she left Hogwarts, it would be much easier for her to come see Tom.
Better not say that out loud, though. No need to make Aberforth upset and risk him slacking off instead of working for Tom.
...
After leaving Hogsmeade, Tom returned to his house in London.
Daphne was animatedly recounting all the recent excitement at school to Madam Perenelle, her eyes sparkling as she spoke.
With her youth restored, Perenelle's mindset seemed to have grown younger too. She used to wear nothing but a gentle, grandmotherly smile, but now she could chat endlessly with Daphne and Fleur, finding plenty of common ground.
Naturally, Tom received another round of scolding from the lady upon his return. He let it go in one ear and out the other, not taking a word to heart.
Firmly admit fault, stubbornly refuse to change.
"Teacher, how's your research going?" Tom asked at lunch, bringing up the progress on Hufflepuff's Cup.
Nicolas shook his head. "I've just finished removing the soul fragment inside. Haven't figured out anything else yet."
"Come on, put some effort into it," Tom said, as irreverent as ever. "At this rate, Voldemort's going to come knocking on our door before you're done."
"Let him," Nicolas Flamel replied indifferently. "This is your home. If he shows up, I'll just head back to Paris and let him tear the place down."
"Going back to feed vampires?" Tom shot back, almost making Nicolas lose his composure.
Being attacked by a group of lowly vampires had left a deeper mark on Nicolas than he liked to admit. On the surface, he brushed it off, saying he'd seen far worse in his lifetime. But in truth, he regarded it as the greatest humiliation of the century.
In the past, his enemies had been powerful dark wizards or vast interest groups. Since when had creatures like vampires dared to trouble him?
He hadn't given up investigating the incident in secret, but after that one attack, the perpetrators seemed to vanish completely, leaving no trace behind.
Noticing Nicolas' expression darkening, Tom realized he'd hit a sore spot a little too hard and quickly backtracked.
"Teacher, I've already arranged for someone to help you investigate. You know Remus Lupin, right?"
"He's a werewolf himself, part of that world, and he's very good at dealing with dark creatures. Once my prisoners are released, I'll have Lupin follow the trail."
Nicolas' expression eased slightly, though he still sounded annoyed. "You're always wasting time on useless things. Building a prison was one thing, but now you've begun building a city. What's the point of all that effort?"
Tom only smiled and didn't answer.
A prison represented judicial power. A city symbolized administrative authority. If he wanted the Astra Abyssum to become the ruling body of the magical world, he needed both.
Take the current Ministry of Magic. It held enforcement power, but without its own city, it couldn't effectively regulate wizard behavior. Wizards themselves lacked any real sense of belonging.
They were like rats hiding in Muggle society, rootless drifters with nowhere to anchor themselves.
Nicolas didn't need to know any of that. The old man just had to focus on his research.
...
After dinner, the two girls beside him were practically bursting with anticipation. Tom wiped his mouth, said his goodbyes to Nicolas and Perenelle, and took the young witches with him to Paris.
It had been agreed beforehand. After finishing the first round of the tournament, he'd accompany Daphne and Fleur to a fashion exhibition.
"Fashion," he thought, but to his eyes, most of it looked bizarre.
Thankfully, the girls' tastes hadn't gone astray. They ignored the outlandish, attention-grabbing designs and picked out more normal styles.
...
While Tom relaxed and enjoyed his leisurely break, Voldemort welcomed his second "loyal" subordinate.
"My Lord! I've finally found you!"
Dusty and travel-worn, dressed in ragged prison clothes, Barty Jr had followed the Dark Mark at last and reunited with Voldemort and Bellatrix.
The moment he saw them, he burst into tears, dropped to his knees with a thud, and kissed Voldemort's shoes.
"My loyal servant…" Voldemort's expression barely changed. He bent slightly, stroking Barty's hair as he spoke softly. "You've found me. That pleases me. You were once a loyal servant. And now?"
"Now as well!" Barty answered without hesitation, lifting his head to meet Voldemort's gaze, devotion written plainly in his eyes.
"Very good." Voldemort smiled, a cold, twisted smile. "Then tell me… if Bella claims you died years ago, why are you standing before me now?"
Barty knew his first test had arrived.
He steadied himself and began reciting the explanation he had prepared long ago…
.
.
.