Although Fleur had enjoyed every moment of traveling with Tom, once she returned to Paris her spirits rose even higher.
The moment Tom escorted her home, however, he was met with Gabrielle's indignant accusations.
Not only had he failed to take her along, he had practically abducted the sister who usually kept her company. The past month had been unbearably dull for the little girl. Either she stayed home alone, with someone returning at noon to cook, or she followed the adults to the Ministry of Magic, where she was required to behave like a perfectly obedient child.
Gabrielle often tried to video call Tom and Fleur, but they were rarely available during the day. Only before bed could she reliably chat with them for a few minutes.
Listening to their stories of mountains, rivers, and fascinating encounters made her so envious she nearly drooled.
A month's worth of resentment was ready to erupt today.
Fortunately, Tom had anticipated this. He produced carefully prepared gifts and spoke a few flattering words, quickly coaxing Gabrielle into laughter. He even promised to take her traveling next time.
A seamless series of moves.
In return, he received several enthusiastic kisses on the cheek.
Finally, he released Poppy and Pixie. Gabrielle was instantly captivated by the two adorable creatures and played with them nonstop until lunchtime. Only when Tom sent the pandas back into his small world did she reluctantly let them go.
While she napped in the afternoon, Tom quietly left the Delacour residence and headed for the Rosier Manor.
There were matters he needed to handle away from prying eyes. The pandas could not accompany him to the Lestrange estate.
"Master Riddle."
Rosier personally escorted him to a secluded garden within the manor. Only she and a few core family members had access here, all of whom knew Tom's identity.
Besides Vogel, there was an elderly man seated in the garden. Unlike Vogel, he did not rise to greet Tom. He remained seated, smiling faintly as he observed him.
Tom considered for a moment and then spoke.
"Gunnar Grimsson?"
At present, among the ranks of the Dark followers, only this man would dare display such composure before him.
The elder nodded with a genial smile.
"Sharp indeed, Master Riddle. As expected of Grindelwald's disciple. Yes, I am Gunnar Grimsson."
Tom smiled back.
"Wanda told me. It was you who flattened the black market."
"A trivial matter," Grimsson replied lightly. "The worm died, but another crawled out immediately."
He spoke as though describing something utterly insignificant.
"I've already thanked you," Tom said calmly. "Now it's time for a duel."
Under the astonished gazes of Wanda Rosier and Vogel, Tom raised a hand and beckoned Grimsson forward in challenge.
The old man froze briefly, then burst into hearty laughter.
"Master Riddle, I am beginning to like your temperament."
He stood, drawing his wand.
Grimsson differed from other followers. He cared nothing for Grindelwald's ideology. He had been conquered purely by Grindelwald's strength. Their relationship was one of superior and subordinate, nothing more.
That bond did not automatically extend to Tom.
Which was why the old man had shown no reverence earlier. The only reason he had agreed to assist before was because Rosier had insisted Tom was the key to saving Grindelwald.
Tom understood people like this.
The simplest solution was to defeat them.
If once was not enough, then twice.
If twice was insufficient, then kill them and move on.
This duel was not only meant to intimidate Grimsson. It was also a demonstration for Wanda and Vogel, proof that Tom's uniqueness was not limited to communicating with Grindelwald.
Wanda and Vogel seemed to grasp his intent. They exchanged a glance and silently stepped aside, clearing the space.
"Not drawing your wand?" Grimsson's smile faded slightly. No one in the world had ever dared face him with such arrogance. Even Grindelwald, when subduing him years ago, had needed to display formidable skill.
"There's no need."
Tom shook his head.
In the next instant, his form exploded like ink spilling across water. Violent dark energy coalesced into a grotesque, shapeless beast.
"An Obscurus?"
Grimsson's brows lifted in surprise before he chuckled again.
"How coincidental. The last time I encountered an Obscurus was here in Paris. Master Riddle, if you believe such a creature can defeat me, you are far too naive."
Tom offered no reply.
The writhing mass of darkness surged forward like a storm.
Grimsson's expression remained composed. He even retained a faint smile as he traced a graceful circle before him. A thin, translucent shield enveloped his body.
The Obscurus collided with it.
Grimsson's smile vanished.
This was not what he expected.
His magical reserves began draining at a terrifying rate, as though a dam had burst. The solidified dark magic carried the essence of annihilation. A single lapse in focus would leave nothing behind.
Though age had dulled his speed and edge, Grimsson's magical power had only grown more immense over time. In his youth, he had effortlessly toyed with the Obscurus that had once been Credence Barebone.
So why now,
The shield corroded at an alarming pace. Its restoration could not keep up with the destruction. In that moment, Grimsson was no longer the hunter.
He was the one being toyed with.
When the barrier finally shattered, the black vortex engulfed him entirely, passing through his body before dispersing.
Tom reformed behind him.
Grimsson's once immaculate suit had been reduced to shredded strips of fabric.
"Is that sufficient?" Tom asked softly.
The old man turned stiffly. The wrinkles on his face gathered together, forming a smile more painful than tears.
"More than sufficient, Master Riddle. I have overestimated myself."