"Autographed photos? Potter, you're handing out autographed photos now?"
As Tom passed through the gardens, Draco's sharp, mocking voice cut through the air. Harry, looking utterly flustered, was being dragged forward by an eager first-year.
"Line up, everyone!" Malfoy barked at the passing students, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Harry Potter is giving out autographed photos!"
"Shut up, Malfoy! I'm not!" Harry snapped, his face red.
"You're just jealous!" Ron jabbed his finger at Malfoy's nose, furious. "Even if you wanted to give someone your autograph, do you think anyone would want it?"
"Oh, I'll make sure your name is right at the top of my petition when you get expelled." Malfoy clutched his throat dramatically and sneered, "Next time you cause trouble, Potter, you can just pack your bags and crawl back home!"
A roar of laughter burst out from the Slytherins around them. Ron had already pulled out his wand, ready to hex Malfoy, when someone strode into the scene.
"What's going on here?"
Lockhart had arrived, his eyes gleaming the moment he spotted a camera in the crowd. Malfoy instantly realized the situation had turned against him and slinked away with his cronies. Lockhart, however, seized the opportunity to grab Harry and pose with him, demanding Colin take several photos.
"Riddle! Mr. Riddle!"
Just as Tom was about to step into the castle, Lockhart's voice rang out behind him.
"Yes, Professor Lockhart?" Tom frowned slightly.
He had no dealings with this fraud of a man. Why was Lockhart suddenly singling him out?
"Mr. Riddle," Lockhart beamed, his unnaturally white teeth glinting—exactly eight on display, no more, no less. "If you've read Travels with Trolls or Holidays with Hags, you'd know that I am something of an expert in magical creatures. That extraordinary beast of yours—Usagi, was it?—why, she's a species I've never even heard of! Simply priceless in research value!"
He rubbed his hands together eagerly and lowered his voice. "Where did you find her? If you'd tell me, perhaps I could… try my luck as well."
Lockhart firmly believed that a flamboyant, exotic pet would enhance his heroic image. He was already eyeing not only Usagi but also Fawkes the phoenix. If he could acquire such companions, perhaps people would start placing him in the same league as Dumbledore himself.
Tom immediately understood his angle, and a sneer tugged at his lips. "Professor, there's an old saying I suspect you've never heard before."
"Oh? And what would that be?" With his limited wit and shallow charm, Lockhart failed to detect Tom's sarcasm.
"'A treasure belongs only to those of virtue.'"
Tom spoke leisurely. "In other words, only the truly noble can gain the kind of wondrous treasures beyond ordinary imagination. Usagi wasn't something I went searching for—she chose to leave the hands of the unworthy."
He leaned in slightly, his tone sharp beneath its calmness. "Since the magical beasts of the world haven't chosen you, Professor, it simply proves your character… falls short."
The boy clapped Lockhart's shoulder with the air of a senior advising a junior, his voice cutting with irony. "So rather than coveting others' companions, Professor, perhaps you should reflect on yourself. Maybe the truth is simple: you're just too lacking for them to acknowledge you."
Leaving Lockhart's face a blotchy mix of blue and white fury, Tom strode past him into the castle without a backward glance.
He had no intention of wasting words on a charlatan like this. With Lockhart's meager wits, Tom could easily flatter him into surrendering both credits and reputation points. But that would be degrading.
Magic was meant to grant freedom—to live unrestrained, to bow to no one.
If he had to lower himself and fawn upon frauds just to earn a handful of points, then wouldn't he be nothing more than the system's slave?
No. Tom Riddle would earn his rewards standing tall.
—Ahem. That said, of course, the real reason was because Tom had already discovered far more reliable ways to gain points. If it were still last year, when he had to scrape and save every ounce of progress, he might very well have already tricked Lockhart blind.
Watching the boy's retreating figure, Lockhart gave a cold snort and stiffly stalked away.
—
At lunch, Tom studied the timetable for the term. He noticed that Slytherin and Gryffindor had very few joint classes this semester—only Transfiguration and Potions were shared.
The schedule was heavier than last term, though still far from burdensome.
When he looked up, he noticed Snape seated in his usual spot. Tom flicked his fingers, and an origami crane glided through the air, landing lightly in front of the Potions Master.
The old bat froze mid-motion, just about to cut into his steak. Lifting his gaze, he saw Tom watching him calmly. With narrowed eyes, Snape unfolded the paper crane and scanned its contents. His expression tightened.
Half an hour later, in a side chamber off the Entrance Hall—
Snape swept inside, his robes billowing, the chill of his presence filling the room. "Riddle. One summer was all it took for you to grow so arrogant you dare demand a professor come to you?"
"Professor, no need to be so irritable."
Tom calmly handed him a cup of tea. "I simply wished to save time. You have three classes to teach this afternoon, and I, too, have tasks awaiting me."
"What do you want." Snape folded his arms, his dark eyes scrutinizing the boy.
Truthfully, after term began, Snape had considered arranging another duel with Tom, to test whether the boy had squandered his summer. But after witnessing the clash between Usagi and Fawkes, he had wisely abandoned the idea.
No point challenging someone who might fight two-on-one without hesitation.
"Professor, what I seek… are the leaves and bark of your favorite plant."
"Goodbye." Snape instantly turned on his heel the moment he realized Tom was eyeing his treasured supplies.
"I never said I wanted them for free."
Tom's voice was smooth as silk as he drew out a tiny crystal vial. Its contents shimmered faintly, catching Snape's eye like a hook.
The Potions Master's gaze locked upon the bottle, his cold mask flickering ever so slightly.