"I can do anything," Ron blurted out anxiously.
"Careful now, you'll wound your little brother's heart," Fred said, swatting George lightly before pulling Ron closer. His expression suddenly turned solemn. "Ronnie, as it happens, we're short on a potion tester. I believe you possess rare talent. Two Sickles per trial. A premium rate, mind you. When Lee tested for us, we only gave him one."
Ron stared at him in disbelief. "You're asking your own brother to test potions? And I only get one Sickle more than everyone else?"
"That's an entire Sickle," George said seriously. "More than Mum's monthly pocket allowance."
Ron fell silent.
That… was technically true.
After serving another eager customer, George turned back. "So? Are you in or not? If not, we'll go find Lee."
"Fine. I'm in," Ron muttered, his face burning with humiliation.
The twins exchanged satisfied smiles. Tom had inspired this mindset. When you hold leverage that others cannot refuse, you press it hard. As long as they lack the power to resist.
...
When Harry learned that Ron had become the twins' official test subject, he stared in stunned silence before offering a sympathetic look.
"I'm sure Fred and George know their limits. You probably won't be in real danger."
"I hope so," Ron groaned. "Hopefully they'll remember I'm their brother. Why couldn't I have a rich godfather instead?"
Harry frowned slightly at that. It sounded dangerously close to implying that he valued Sirius for money.
But he knew Ron's habit of speaking before thinking. He let it go and returned to studying Tom's notes.
Malfoy had not challenged him in two weeks. Apparently Blaise Zabini had been occupying him, claiming he was far stronger and that dueling Harry was pointless.
That Harry could not accept.
He was preparing to challenge Zabini himself, determined to prove that Malfoy was still his rival.
...
Meanwhile, the products of Weasley's Joke Shop began wreaking havoc.
Students used them indiscriminately. Filch nearly lost his mind. The corridors reeked of Dungbombs.
Professors had not received the promotional push notification and were initially bewildered. Only after catching several culprits red handed did they understand what was happening.
Tom and the twins were summoned to Professor McGonagall's office.
"Mr. Riddle," she said sternly, "have you nothing to say? You used to be a model student. Why are you encouraging this nonsense?"
The twins, normally as lively as baboons, trembled and stared at the floor.
Tom, however, remained calm.
"Professor, this has nothing to do with me."
McGonagall shot him a sharp look. "You promoted those items. Do you not bear responsibility?"
Tom spread his hands innocently. "Professor, it was purely commercial activity."
"They paid me for promotion. I delivered promotion. Surely you cannot forbid me from earning money? As long as the products do not violate Ministry laws, I have no grounds to refuse."
McGonagall opened her mouth, then hesitated.
Technically… he was correct.
"But it violates school rules."
Tom smiled faintly. "Rest assured, Professor. My actions violate no school rule. As for Fred and George, they're selling inventions of their own creation. None of them are listed in the rulebook. Of course, you are free to add new regulations now. But as for promotional services, that falls under Helder Workshop affairs. You cannot restrict me solely under my student identity."
The combination was devastating.
After that string of arguments, McGonagall could only wave her hand in weary defeat.
"Very well. You may go."
"Good day, Professor."
Tom left under the twins' worshipful gazes. They had never seen anyone talk McGonagall into submission like that.
As the door closed, McGonagall's eyes shifted to them.
"Professor," Fred began bravely, "Tom said that…"
"You do whatever Tom says?" she cut in sharply. "Then why do you not listen when I tell you to focus on your studies and stop causing trouble?"
"We didn't break any rules…"
"Previously, no. Now, yes."
With the founders' discipline invoked, Weasley's Joke Shop was forced to suspend its public operations. It did not close entirely, but shifted underground, trading discreetly.
To manage customer groups more efficiently, the twins even purchased two professional edition WhatsApp notebooks from Tom on credit, allowing them to create additional large capacity discussion groups.
...
Time slipped forward to late October.
A single notice set the castle ablaze with excitement.
The annual Hogsmeade weekend was finally approaching.
On the eve of Halloween, students would be allowed to spend the entire day in Hogsmeade, returning to Hogwarts for a grand feast in the evening.
"Slytherins, hand in your Hogsmeade permission slips."
At the end of Potions class the day before the outing, Snape stopped the students at the door.
They lined up and submitted their forms one by one.
When it was Tom and Daphne's turn, they handed over a single sheet.
Tom had no parent to sign for him, so Mrs. Greengrass had done the honors.
To anyone else, it was an ordinary detail.
To Daphne, it meant everything.
It meant she and Tom were family.
Snape took the slip and stared at the distinctive signature for several long seconds.
Had it really reached this point already?
If he had once possessed the courage to confess to Lily, would his future have been different?
No… this boy had been pursued, not the other way around. The Greengrasses probably would not object at all to that signature…
Snape felt something crack inside him.
Why was the gap between people so vast?