— — — — — —
Only after the old man's beard had practically bristled upright did Tom finally behave and explain how Daphne's Patronus actually worked.
The Patronus Charm was, at its core, an emotion-based spell. Of course, magic was the foundation. Only with sufficient magical power, paired with strong positive emotions, could the spell reach its full potential.
On the magic side, ever since Daphne had more or less glued herself to Tom, she'd been raised on what might as well have been a steady diet of magical supplements. All kinds of rare and valuable resources had been poured into her. On top of that, Tom had personally engraved magic circuits to boost her magic output.
So in terms of raw power, she didn't just meet the requirement—she exceeded it.
As for emotions…
That was her natural advantage.
Daphne Greengrass was, by all accounts, living the dream. Noble background, a loving mother, an adorable little sister. Then, right after arriving at school, her fondness for good looks led her straight to Tom Riddle.
The only thing that had ever weighed on her was the blood curse on Astoria. But even that was mostly resolved now. You could call her carefree to the point of being a little airheaded—always smiling, always happy.
Or, more generously, completely free of worries. Overflowing with positive emotion.
Where Harry had to rack his brain to scrape together enough happy memories to cast a Patronus, Daphne only needed to think back on the past few days to hit the requirement with ease.
Over the past few days, 80% of the happy memories involved Tom. The other twenty percent were about Astoria.
Once Tom realized that, he got the idea to teach her the giant Patronus. After a summer of intense training, Daphne finally let go of her old rabbit Patronus and transformed it into a humanoid one.
"Alright, we follow that," Nicolas said with a nod. "Now explain why Daphne's casting a Patronus while you're glowing over here."
"True name magic," Tom replied, pointing at himself before gesturing toward the girl currently beating up a dragon on the field. "I linked our true names together. It was meant as a safety measure—so if Daphne ever got into danger, I could reach her immediately."
"But her Patronus ended up connecting to me instead… and it seems like it can draw on part of my power."
He paused, then shook his head.
"Not exactly 'draw on,' actually. A more accurate way to put it is that it reflects a portion of my strength. The stronger I get, the stronger her Patronus becomes—as long as she has enough magic to sustain it."
Tom spread his hands, completely unapologetic. "But every bit of magic she's using right now, she pulled from me fair and square. I just didn't stop her. So how exactly is that cheating?"
In truth, there was more to it than just true name magic. There was also his "Divine Grace's Proxy: Crimson Saint*" talent mixed in—but that was far too complicated to explain on the spot.
(*For anyone keeping track, this is the talent Tom acquired from Jeanne back in Chapter 388.)
So...
At this point, Daphne's Patronus was already drifting away from what a Patronus was supposed to be, blending with something… else.
The others exchanged looks. It sounded a bit shameless, sure, but technically, it wasn't against the rules.
"…You could call it a variation of a summoning spell?" Tina offered hesitantly, trying to smooth things over.
Perenelle nodded in agreement. "If this counts as cheating, then spells like Serpensortia—summoning creatures through magic—would also be borrowing external power, wouldn't they?"
"Oh, come on, it's not that serious," Nicolas waved it off, instantly losing interest in the debate. "We're not the judges. No point worrying about cheating. I'm just curious what new trick this kid's come up with."
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it felt.
Tom was like a walking disruption to the magical world. New ideas, strange spells—he just kept coming up with them.
Now he'd even figured out how to "summon his Patronus."
At this pace, the world was going to get completely wrecked by this kid.
---
Outside the VIP box, the headmasters and judges couldn't see the glowing Tom—but they were nearly blinded by the humanoid Patronus on the field.
It shone like a miniature sun.
A literal war god.
With its overwhelming defense and control over attraction and repulsion, it had the Hebridean Black pinned to the ground and was beating it senseless.
Compared to Ariana's earlier fight, this one was even more impactful. Ariana's battle had been chaotic—Drak Magic and Obscurus energy flying everywhere, making it impossible to follow.
Daphne's, on the other hand, was brutally straightforward.
Pure force. Pure dominance.
The kind of overwhelming power that made your chest tighten just watching it.
"Talk about favoritism…"
The girls in the stands felt a sourness in their hearts. Even Astoria wasn't exempt.
None of them had expected Daphne's so-called trump card to literally be "Tom" himself.
Turning your boyfriend—your future husband—into your Patronus?
Are you two seriously going to keep showing off like this without any regard for the rest of us?
Fleur had already stormed out of the champions' waiting room, teeth clenched, scanning the area for the culprit behind all this.
Unfortunately for her, she found nothing.
Behind her, Ariana and Kamio had appeared at some point. Ariana bit her lip, silently swearing that once she got back, she'd cling to Tom until he taught her that special version of the Patronus.
As for the little fox, she had just confirmed Daphne's place in the hierarchy. From now on, no matter what, she was not going to provoke that seemingly airheaded young lady.
Kamio let out a quiet sigh.
Some people really were just born lucky…
Meanwhile, the Hogwarts students who had been doubting Daphne earlier were now completely speechless.
If you were this strong, you could've said so earlier!
You had us worried Hogwarts wouldn't place well!
"Wuuu—!"
At last, the Hebridean Black had been beaten into clarity. Its furious roars turned into pitiful whimpers. Its short forelimbs clutched its head, wings folded tight, tail tucked in. It looked less like a ferocious beast and more like a dog that had been thoroughly disciplined into submission.
"In-Incredible! Simply incredible!"
Bagman's voice rang through the arena again, brimming with excitement.
"An unbelievable match! We've just witnessed an epic battle! Miss Greengrass stands like the reincarnation of the great Andros the Invincible, showing us the true might of the Patronus Charm! Even a mighty dragon could not withstand the assault of this guardian giant!"
"Greatness needs no explanation!"
The young lady's ears turned red under such blatant praise. She waved her hand modestly, a little embarrassed.
In her good mood, she decided to spare the dragon. She skipped lightly toward the cavern, picked up the golden egg, and hugged it to her chest.
The Hebridean Black, still pinned moments ago by the Patronus, saw that she had only taken the golden egg and left its own eggs untouched. It let out a long breath of relief, collapsed onto the ground, and gave up entirely, not even bothering to move anymore.
Daphne lifted the golden egg high. Sunlight gleamed across its surface, making it shine brilliantly. Paired with her bright smile, she looked like she was glowing herself.
The young wizards and witches didn't hold back their applause and cheers. The Slytherin students roared with pride, while many girls flushed red with excitement.
Up in the stands, Lady Greengrass was smiling so wide she could barely contain herself.
Her daughter had made it. Her silly, carefree girl had just beaten a dragon senseless.
This called for a celebration. When they got back, she was definitely hosting a grand banquet so every family would know—the Greengrasses had produced a star.
"Ladies and gentlemen."
Bagman's voice came again, cutting through the noise. "With that, the match comes to a close! Let's thank our seven champions once more for their thrilling performances! Next, we move on to scoring!"
"The judging panel consists of the seven headmasters, along with myself and Mr. Crouch. Each judge may award up to ten points."
"That means the maximum possible score this round is ninety!"
"Let's give the judges five minutes to deliberate. Scoring will begin with the first champion shortly!"
After that, Bagman launched into a long list of sponsors—from Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans to the Firebolt. There were at least a dozen names, and by the end of it, both the audience in the stadium and those watching through the magical broadcast looked half-dazed.
Far away in Africa, Voldemort had already shut off the broadcast. His pale face showed a rare hint of contemplation.
"…Obscurus."
He recalled Ariana's earlier performance, and a spark of interest lit in his eyes.
If he could become an Obscurial, his power would rise dramatically.
After all, he had an advantage no one else did.
The life-draining side effects of an Obscurus meant little to him. He could feed it freely without concern. That pure, concentrated dark magic would be the perfect fuel for countless dark spells.
"What do you think…"
He turned to look at Bellatrix and Barty Jr, completely ignoring Lockhart as if he didn't exist. His tone was calm, but chilling.
"…if I kill Ariana and take her Obscurus?"
Barty froze, eyes wide.
He genuinely could not comprehend how someone could so casually pinpoint the most suicidal idea imaginable.
Messing with Ariana meant provoking Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle… and his lord, Gellert Grindelwald.
Hadn't he seen what happened to Pierce?
How could he still be this bold?
"Barty. Do you have an objection?"
Voldemort clearly disliked the look in his eyes. His slit-like pupils narrowed, his voice turning colder.
"N-no, my lord!" Barty shook his head quickly. "I was only… astonished by your brilliant idea."
"I think it's excellent. Truly excellent," he said, his tone suddenly fervent. "If you personally take action, seize the Obscurus, and lie low for a time, you'll be unstoppable!"
Deep down, Barty sincerely hoped Voldemort would go through with it.
That way, he wouldn't have to keep playing the role of a spy.
He could just find a mass grave somewhere… and prepare a nice, quiet pit for his former master instead.
Barty silently prayed that Voldemort would lose his mind and go get himself killed. If that happened, he could at least finish his mission in peace.
Unfortunately, he had seriously underestimated just how afraid of death Voldemort actually was.
"There's no need," Voldemort said flatly. His tone was calm, but in truth he was just making excuses for himself. "I have more important matters to deal with. An Obscurus is hardly urgent. Let Dumbledore's sister keep raising it for me. I'll take it when the time is right."
March straight into Hogwarts and kidnap Ariana?
What a joke.
Dumbledore practically lived there in the open. Aside from that one time he'd gone to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, Voldemort had never dared step foot in Hogwarts again.
He'd been terrified even back then.
Now?
Now the castle also housed Tom Riddle… and Gellert Grindelwald.
That place was basically a no-go zone for his life.
The Obscurus was tempting, sure—but it didn't have to be now. He could wait until those three were separated. Better yet, until Ariana was alone.
Then he'd strike.
That was right.
This so-called Dark Lord had completely abandoned any sense of pride. He didn't even want to risk facing a potentially dangerous opponent. All he cared about now was picking on easy targets.
Barty lowered his head slightly, his eyes hidden beneath his lashes, concealing the disdain that filled them.
Cowardice was cowardice. Dressing it up with excuses didn't change that.
How had he never seen Voldemort for what he really was?
Thinking back on his past blind devotion made him cringe so hard his toes curled. He'd really been blind back then.
.
.
.