— — — — — —
Up until today, even though Tom had been running wild at Hogwarts—bullying whoever he pleased, ignoring the rules, doing whatever made him happy—Dumbledore still believed he was a good child at heart. Just… a bit too decisive in how he handled things.
Even if the number of people Tom had killed might already rival Voldemort in his prime, Dumbledore had always told himself it wasn't the same. Not really.
He had even thought Tom having so many girlfriends was a good thing. Watching all those bright, beautiful young witches and wizards, he could almost feel a trace of youth again in his old, worn body.
More importantly, people with rich emotions were far less likely to be corrupted by dark magic. That was the foundation of his trust in Tom. He believed there was no need to worry about another bloodthirsty monster rising in the wizarding world.
But now?
Dumbledore took back every single evaluation he had ever made about Tom Riddle.
This… this was something a hundred times worse than Voldemort.
His sister had only just been revived—and she'd already been swept off her feet?!
What made Dumbledore absolutely furious was the person standing next to him.
Grindelwald leaned in, his tone dripping with mockery. "You have to admit, Riddle and your sister look perfect together. A match made in heaven. In the entire wizarding world, who else could possibly be worthy of Ariana?"
"I fully support this marriage. One will control the Acolytes, the other the Astra Abyssum Guild. The two of them together could practically run the whole wizarding world."
"If you don't know how to speak, then shut up!" Dumbledore snapped, his sudden outburst so harsh it startled Snape, who instinctively stepped away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire between two monsters.
Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore forced himself to calm down. "Ariana is still young. She's had almost no experience dealing with people before, always sheltered and protected. How can she start a relationship this early?"
Grindelwald curled his lip. "They like each other. Since when does that give you the right to object?"
Whoosh!
The Elder Wand slipped soundlessly into Dumbledore's hand.
Grindelwald showed no fear. If anything, he raised an eyebrow in open provocation.
Yesterday, he had used Morgan's improved dark magic to land a solid blow on Dumbledore. If he hadn't been "kind enough" to help detoxify him afterward, Dumbledore would probably still be bedridden right now.
Of course, tricks like that only worked once. Now that Dumbledore was on guard, it wouldn't be so easy to pull off again.
Dumbledore didn't even look at Grindelwald. Right now, all he wanted was to sit Ariana down and have a proper talk—convince her not to end up like those other girls who boarded Tom's ship and never got off.
But the champions were about to leave with Professor McGonagall to prepare for the next round, so he had no choice but to suppress the storm in his chest.
Not far away, Quinta from Castelobruxo paused, her cheeks faintly flushed. Her gaze lingered on Tom for a moment as she hesitated, wondering if she should go up and give Riddle a hug.
He's so handsome… one hug wouldn't be a loss at all. If anything, it'd be a steal.
Unfortunately, the two of them had barely interacted before. They hadn't even had a proper conversation. In the end, Quinta could only shake her head in regret. With long, powerful strides, she walked over to stand beside Professor McGonagall, waiting quietly.
Soon, the champions were led away.
The other Hogwarts professors began organizing the remaining students into lines, guiding them one by one into the fireplaces. On the other side, staff members were already waiting to manage the students as they arrived, preventing anyone from wandering off.
The fireplaces had been specially modified. Pale golden runes shimmered along their edges, and green flames burned steadily within. Students didn't need to call out a destination—stepping inside was enough to send them through, avoiding accidents caused by mispronunciations.
On average, one young wizard was transported every second. With two fireplaces operating at the same time, it took less than half an hour for the Great Hall to empty out completely.
At last, even the headmasters stepped through, leaving the place utterly deserted.
Dream Arena.
That was the name Tom had given his stadium.
"Wow!!"
When the students arrived, the place felt completely surreal.
The entire venue resembled a massive half-egg. Its shell-like walls glowed with a soft, pearlescent light. The dome overhead was sealed, and countless bright beams shone down like starlight.
Suspended high in the air was a continuous arc of Lume-Lenses, displaying a live view of the arena below. No matter where you sat, the massive screens allowed you to take in the entire battlefield with perfect clarity.
Across the ground stretched rugged, uneven terrain. From shadowy caves in the corners came faint, echoing dragon roars.
Gasps of amazement rippled through the crowd of young wizards.
Some of them had been here before during the Quidditch World Cup, but back then the stadium had still been incomplete, with many features unfinished.
For those visiting for the first time, the excitement was overwhelming. They couldn't help but look around, eyes darting everywhere.
The Muggle-born students were especially stunned. For a moment, they couldn't even tell if they were still in the magical world, or if they had somehow traveled through time into a futuristic sci-fi setting.
This place felt nothing like the old, conservative wizarding world they were used to.
Malfoy pulled out a Codex and started snapping photos like crazy, showing off as he went.
Harry was doing the exact same thing beside him. Ron could only watch, practically drooling with envy.
Still, he knew better. Even if he begged on his knees for three days straight, his parents would never buy him the latest version of a Codex like that.
But by the time he graduated and earned his own money, who knew how long it would take him to save up for one?
"Mom!"
"Good afternoon, ma'am."
In one of the VIP boxes near the top, Astoria happily threw her arms around Lady Greengrass. Tom, standing nearby, greeted her politely.
Today's audience wasn't just Hogwarts staff and students. Influential figures from various magical governments, along with officials from the British Ministry of Magic, had also come to watch.
The school had invited the champions' families as well, but because of the distance and work the next day, only Lady Greengrass and Fleur's parents had made the trip.
After greeting them, Tom still had to visit the neighboring box and pay his respects there too, making sure not to show favoritism.
Lady Greengrass gently stroked Astoria's hair, smiling at Tom before asking with a hint of concern, "Tom, are you sure Daphne will be alright?"
A mother knew her daughter best. She simply couldn't connect the word "champion" with her eldest child, who had always been spoiled, headstrong, and allergic to hardship.
Daphne's disastrous performance in the first round had been exactly what she expected. She had even gone out of her way to comfort her afterward, only to find her daughter completely unfazed, still eating, playing, and enjoying herself as if nothing had happened. That had reassured her.
But today was different. Crouch had already explained the challenge the champions would face: dragons. Even adult wizards turned pale at the mention of such ferocious creatures.
"You can rest easy," Tom said, patting his chest with confidence. "I guarantee Daphne will do far better this time. And her safety is absolutely assured. After all, I'm here, aren't I?"
Lady Greengrass nodded, visibly reassured.
That made sense. Dragons weren't much of a threat to Tom now. If Daphne got into trouble, he would definitely keep her safe.
As for her score… as long as she had fun, that was enough. The Greengrass family wasn't short on prestige.
After a brief chat, Tom excused himself and headed next door.
Little Gabrielle was tugging on her father's sleeve, puffing up her cheeks as she complained to her parents that her sister Fleur hadn't spent any time with her lately.
But the moment she saw Tom walk in, she lit up, bouncing over and clinging to him. With her sister not around, she finally had the chance to act spoiled to her heart's content.
...
Meanwhile, in the players' lounge beneath the stadium, Bagman stood before the champions, eyes gleaming as he enthusiastically explained the rules of the second round.
"Your task is to retrieve a golden egg under the protection of a dragon," he said brightly. "It's not an easy challenge, but it's one you must face."
He sounded almost delighted at the thought of their misfortune.
Holding up a purple silk bag, he reached inside and took out seven miniature dragon models, each representing a different species. They were chubby and almost cute in appearance.
But after seeing the real dragons just two nights ago, none of the champions found these "little fellows" adorable.
"The advantage from the first round now comes into play," Bagman continued. "You will choose your opponents in order of your rankings from the previous round."
At this, Jauncey, who had been sulking the entire time, couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from lifting. His mood improved instantly. With a sense of superiority, he swept his gaze across the room, hoping to see fear on the faces of those ranked below him.
Reality disappointed him.
Fleur and Quinta looked pale, but their expressions remained composed.
Nassim was impossible to read, as usual. Totally chill.
As for Kamio, Ariana, and Daphne, the three girls showed no expression at all, as if they weren't about to face dragons, but something as harmless as a docile lamb.
Was that even normal?
Jauncey's brief good mood collapsed instantly. His smile froze, then vanished.
This was boring. No one was giving him the reaction he wanted.
"Miss Kamio, why don't you go first?" Bagman said, gesturing toward the dragon models with a welcoming smile.
"Hmm…"
The little fox rested a slender finger against her lips, thinking for a few seconds before pointing at one of the models.
"I'll take this one. The Antipodean Opaleye."
.
.
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