What promise?
Tom quickly remembered. Back in the Chamber, to calm Harry down, and partially to make up for dragging him there, Tom had promised him one request.
"You waited half a month to bring it up?"
Tom chuckled. "I thought you forgot. Go ahead, what do you want?
First, though, if it's impossible or wastes too much of my time, I won't agree."
Harry lowered his head awkwardly. "The basilisk incident just ended. We're surrounded by eyes all the time, it's been hard to talk to you. I've wanted to ask since then."
"Tom, I want you to help me get stronger."
Harry's voice was earnest. "I know I don't have your talent… but I don't want to be dead weight. First year, Quirrell. Second year, Voldemort. Every time, you're the one who saves me."
He paused, face twitching.
"Well… technically, this time you dragged me into the mess."
Even remembering being kidnapped from the hospital wing made his cheek spasm.
"If you want to get stronger, spend more time in the library. Learn more spells. You'll naturally improve."
Before Tom could speak, Hermione jumped in eagerly with advice.
"Um…" Harry's head drooped even further. "Hermione, everyone has their strengths. You like books, you remember everything you read. I… don't. I'm more of a duel-focused learner."
"Oh," Daphne nodded, completely straight-faced. "So basically, you're too lazy to read. I told Tom the same thing."
"Big sister, don't say it out loud!" Astoria groaned. Daphne had grown frighteningly blunt, what she thought, she said.
Harry looked ready to bury himself underground.
"That's all you wanted?"
Tom didn't care about Harry's excuse. Not everyone could force themselves to read boring theory for hours. Even he couldn't always focus unless he was in the meditation room or study dimension.
"You want to get strong? Fine. I have several methods that can help."
Hope ignited in Harry's eyes. Embarrassment forgotten, he looked up eagerly.
"First," Tom raised one finger, "I could be your teacher. I'd guide you, answer your questions, and train with you regularly."
"I choose that one!" Harry interrupted before Tom could blink.
It was obvious: any student taught by Tom instantly became a terrifying duelist. Hermione, Daphne, they were walking proof.
"Calm down. I'm not finished."
Tom waved him off, amused. "You want it, but I don't have the time or energy. So… pass."
He already had his notebook, History of the Magical World, his own research, time shared with Daphne and Hermione, occasional calls with Fleur and Gabrielle, and now medical research plus Grindelwald's nonsense.
Be Harry's personal tutor on top of that?
Impossible. For that, he could just send Harry to Snape, who would teach him so intensely his organs would try to escape.
Then why even mention it?!
Harry screamed internally. His face twisted in misery, neck turning red with suppressed outrage.
Hermione and the girls fought the urge to laugh. They could see Tom slipping into his strange habit: offering solutions only to brutally snatch them back.
"What about the second option?" Harry forced out stiffly through his teeth.
"The second option is simple: I give you one of my notebooks. You train on your own. If you get stuck, think first. If you still don't understand, ask me if I have time. If I don't, ask a professor. I strongly recommend Snape. He's a hidden dueling master."
"That's… acceptable." Harry nodded, immediately deleting the Snape part from existence.
Snape might answer his questions, sure, but he might also test those answers on him. Physically.
"And the third option," Tom continued, glancing toward Ron who was waiting impatiently in the distance, "is something everyone ignores: you need a partner."
"You cannot grow relying on yourself alone. Training requires someone to duel with. Studying requires someone to motivate you. But the only person around you is someone who wastes time with you every day."
"Maybe you're determined now. But how long will that last if no one supports you?"
"I suggest your partner should be either Ron… or Malfoy."
"Malfoy?!" Harry almost choked.
Tom nodded. "Malfoy is better. If you lose to Ron, there's no shame. But if you lose to Malfoy, you'll feel horrible for weeks."
"That's… actually true," Harry grumbled.
He remembered the weeks he couldn't sleep after Malfoy mastered the Shield Charm before him. His Disarming Charm only improved because his humiliation wouldn't leave him alone.
Sometimes, spite was a better teacher than textbooks.