Dumbledore had a headache.
It was just a few academic points. Was it really necessary to elevate the issue to this level?
He genuinely could not understand why someone like Tom, whose achievements far surpassed those of ordinary students, cared so deeply about what was essentially a children's game.
"Slytherin gets five hundred points. Put it on me."
Snape suddenly spoke.
Whether Tom knew it or not, he had indeed delivered his enemy right into their hands.
Dumbledore was momentarily speechless.
Five hundred points. Put it on you?
Your head is really that big?
But with Slytherin already miles ahead, the exact number hardly mattered anymore. To stabilize his Potions professor, Dumbledore ultimately agreed.
"Very well. Once everything is settled, I will add the corresponding points."
Only then did Tom leave, satisfied.
Five hundred points meant five hundred credits, one hundred achievement points. Tom was so desperate for achievement points he was practically bankrupt. Five thousand points for a Legendary Teacher was absurdly hard to scrape together.
On top of that, he had to push Slytherin's score to ridiculous heights this term. Only then could he secure a perfect evaluation at the end of the school year and obtain better rewards.
By the time he reached the entrance of the Headmaster's office, Tom found everything pleasant to look at. Even the ugly-cute stone gargoyle spouting water suddenly seemed far more adorable.
He patted the statue's head.
"Hey, didn't you say you wanted me to take you along?"
"Riddle," the gargoyle whispered cautiously, "do you remember what you promised me before? I want to follow you."
"???"
"Little brother, I'm not some gang leader. I'm a respectable person."
Tom said helplessly, "You're a Headmaster's statue. If you're going to follow someone, shouldn't it be the Headmaster? Why me?"
"No, no." The gargoyle shook its head. "I'm only Dumbledore's gatekeeper during the school term. During summer break, I'm off duty."
"You said it yourself. The world is so big. Take me out to see it."
Tom widened his eyes. "Dumbledore actually approved your vacation?"
"Of course," the gargoyle said smugly. "Only during summer though. Christmas break is too short, and there are still students around, so no rest."
...
"Not only that, he gives me fifty Galleons a year as salary. I'll give it all to you."
Tom fell silent, seriously considering whether to take the gargoyle along on his adventures.
After all, he did have more than a few unspeakable secrets, like his connections with some of Dumbledore's old friends. If that got exposed, he would not just defect on the spot.
Ah no, wrong world.
Hogwarts.
Still, since he had already promised, outright refusing did not feel right.
Fine. He would bring it along. Leave it in the courtyard when at home, dump it at Newt's place when in New York, leave it with Nicolas when in Paris. It would not really affect anything.
After thinking it through, Tom nodded decisively.
"No problem, little brother. I'll take you out to live the good life."
"Riddle, I can't eat or drink," the gargoyle reminded him gloomily.
"I didn't say you had to eat. I eat. You watch."
The gargoyle fell silent.
...
Inside the Headmaster's office.
Snape and Dumbledore sat facing each other. Snape had regained his composure, though his expression was colder than ever.
"Severus, I apologize for what I said earlier," Dumbledore said softly.
"No need."
Snape gave a self-mocking laugh and clutched his head in pain.
"Why apologize? Because you told the truth? I killed Lily. What difference is there between me and Peter? We both deserve to die."
"But the one who truly deserves death is still alive," Dumbledore said, looking at him with a voice filled with steady conviction. "I know you are not clinging to this world. You want to truly end him. In this, our interests align. That is also the foundation of our trust."
"You should know that my trust in you surpasses even Minerva's, especially when it comes to Voldemort. Her temperament is not suited for knowing too much darkness."
"I still need your help."
Snape remained silent. He rubbed his brow hard. After a long while, he finally suppressed the pain and hatred in his eyes. His gaze returned to calm and depthless stillness.
"Speak. What do you want me to do this time?"
"Peter Pettigrew cannot die," Dumbledore said quietly. "Sirius Black was imprisoned for eleven years and never defended himself. He likely believed it was his fault that James and Lily died."
"Isn't it?" Snape sneered. "Arrogantly switching the contact person. What right does that rat-faced bastard have to carry someone else's life?"
"He is a murderer. Being locked in prison is exactly what he deserves!"
Dumbledore disagreed.
"If James had not agreed, Sirius could never have done it alone. Fate has never been kind to good people."
"Tomorrow I will summon Fudge. I need you to provide more Veritaserum, enough to make him believe this unbelievable truth."
Snape snorted but did not refuse. He did, however, make a request.
"Fine. But tonight, Peter belongs to me."
Dumbledore frowned slightly and refused.
"Have you forgotten your identity?" the old man reminded him. "You and him are colleagues. We both know Voldemort will return one day. If you torture Peter too harshly and Voldemort finds out, you will be in danger."
"There will be no problem."
Snape stood up. Dumbledore saw his fists clenched so tightly they trembled.
He walked over to the unconscious Peter. Gathering all his strength, Snape threw a punch, smashing it into Peter's bloated face.
Blood sprayed instantly, some of it Peter's, some of it Snape's.
"Have you forgotten how the Marauders treated me back then?"
Snape's voice was soft, but the hatred within it overflowed.
"They used my own magic… hung me from the Whomping Willow, humiliated me to the extreme."
"This is not revenge for Lily. It is the settling of old debts from my student days."
Dumbledore let out a deep sigh.
"Go. Just don't break his mind."
Like dragging a dead dog, Snape hauled Peter Pettigrew out of the office.