There was a saying Tom had always believed to be true:
It's hard to learn to be good, but slipping into evil takes no effort at all.
To shape someone into a person with upright morals and a shining character took nine long years of indoctrination, countless corrections, and endless restraint—only to barely raise someone who merely appeared decent on the surface.
But to cultivate a villain?
That was laughably easy.
Because committing evil was intoxicating—deliciously so. The first time it felt novel, the second time familiar, the third time came with eager anticipation, the fourth with unbearable hunger, and by the fifth, it was second nature.
After all, goodness demanded resisting human nature and desire, but wickedness? That was indulgence itself.
Tom had decided: he would nurture Ariana into a villain, let her release the violence and the pent-up darkness buried inside her heart.
She couldn't leave the space anyway—the only ones who'd suffer were Grindelwald and Andros.
Well… not entirely. Grindelwald, in fact, would prefer Ariana this way. At least then, in terms of education, he would have beaten Dumbledore.
Half an hour later, Tom had roughly recounted all that he knew of Grindelwald's past. Summed up, it was simply: lawless and ruthless.
For contrast, he placed Dumbledore beside him as the foil.
While Grindelwald, disguised as Graves, thrived in America, Dumbledore was under Ministry surveillance.
While Grindelwald bewitched Paris, rallying countless followers, the Ministry shackled Dumbledore with restrictive enchantments, a punishment not far from imprisonment—just because he refused to stand against Grindelwald.
By the time Grindelwald was running for Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Dumbledore had only a handful of weak allies, barely scraping together a presence at all.
Ariana had never realized her brother had suffered so miserably. Listening to Tom's words, she felt wronged on Albus's behalf. As her emotions surged, the Obscurus within her stirred restlessly, faint tendrils of black mist seeping out.
Tom glanced at it coolly and instantly suppressed the unruly shadow.
Not on his watch. The Obscurus would not be allowed to dictate Ariana's choices while he was around.
"…But in the end, my brother still won," Ariana said softly, straining to find something good to say about Albus.
"Yes, he won." Tom nodded. "That duel is called the greatest battle of the century. Grindelwald lost—but tell me, was that really a matter of good defeating evil?"
Tom's voice dripped with quiet disdain. "No. Grindelwald simply lost because his magic was weaker. He wasn't defeated by morals—he was defeated by power."
He sighed. "And do you think Dumbledore was happy with that victory? You know better than anyone how close they once were."
Ariana bit her lip. Of course she knew. Because of Grindelwald, her brothers had neglected her—her very existence had been overshadowed.
For Albus to duel him, defeat him, and then lock him away in a lonely tower for fifty years—that kind of torment was like being forced to eat, through tears, the very pet rabbit she once raised herself.
"Albus is so pitiful," Ariana murmured.
"That's only the beginning," Tom said, shaking his head. "He became the great White Wizard, respected by all. But because he followed the rules too rigidly, even those not worth a flick of his wand dared to mock him, to call him a crazy old fool behind his back."
He leaned closer, his voice soft, insidious. "So, Ariana, being good… is exhausting."
Step by step, he had closed the distance between them until he was no more than a fist away, his low voice dripping into Ariana's ears.
"We should be powerful villains instead. If anyone dares to bully us, we crush them. Once they're afraid, they'll come crawling as good little sycophants."
"And if they still don't learn their lesson…" Tom left the sentence unfinished, letting the silence speak louder than words.
He didn't need to rush. He knew the poison was seeping in.
"If I were you, Ariana, I'd seize this chance. I'd master magic, and then I'd find Grindelwald and make him pay. Magic isn't the source of disaster—it's your gift. It's the very essence of who we are as wizards."
"I…" Ariana opened her mouth, but the words dissolved into stammering whispers.
Tom reached out and ruffled her hair gently. "Besides, you're already dead. Why not try the things you once resisted in life? What's the worst that can happen? It can't get any worse, can it?"
He chuckled. "And aren't you supposed to be my teacher? Hiding here all day watching Tom and Jerry… were you planning to teach me how to catch mice?"
Ariana giggled despite herself. "As if Tom could ever catch Jerry."
"Who says so? This Tom will definitely catch him."
Snap!
A pile of basic spellbooks appeared neatly on the coffee table. Tom's body began to fade, his form becoming more and more transparent until it vanished completely.
Ariana stared at the books, dazed. No one knew how long she hesitated. But at last, she picked up an introductory spellbook and conjured Tom's wand.
Her choice was clear.
The next morning, Tom knew instantly what Ariana had decided.
Andros told him that Ariana had come to him the previous evening with questions—questions she asked eagerly, to Andros's utter shock.
"Tom," Andros muttered in disbelief, "if wooing women is a ranked art, you'd be the undying legend. Not even 'King of the Century' would be enough to describe you."
"…Was that a compliment?" Tom asked dryly as he stepped out of his room.
He had barely descended the stairs when he heard a rapid series of incantations echoing from the lounge.
Inside, three pairs of students were practicing the Shield Charm—among them Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.
Zabini's spells were all vicious hexes. Malfoy's mouth swelled up like a sausage one moment, his front teeth grew grotesquely long the next, and sometimes his limbs twisted in reversed sensations, leaving him stumbling and flailing like a fool.
He was gulping down purification potions like water.
Tom couldn't help but marvel at Potter's greatness—only Harry could make Malfoy suffer like this.
Finally, unable to watch any longer, he spoke up:
"Draco, what did I tell you yesterday? When you're under magical attack, you cast the Shield Charm. I didn't tell you to just stand there and take the hits!"
Malfoy, who had only just recovered from an Engorgement Charm, froze in utter confusion at Tom's words.