Clutching Tom's arm, Daphne tugged him toward Honeydukes.
Inside, the shop was bursting with energy. The owner and his staff moved briskly among the throng of young witches and wizards, their faces glowing with holiday cheer.
Hogsmeade weekends were always their most profitable days. This year, the contrast was especially stark. During ordinary weeks, two Dementors had been stationed in the village. The mere news of their presence had discouraged countless visitors, infuriating shopkeepers who repeatedly petitioned the Ministry. The response was always the same: once the escaped prisoners were captured, the Dementors would be withdrawn.
Today was different.
Several Heads of House were present in Hogsmeade, temporarily driving the Dementors away to ensure students enjoyed a safe and carefree outing.
"Mr. Riddle!"
Ambrosius Flume looked up in the midst of serving customers. The moment he spotted Tom, his expression lit up. He hurriedly handed off his work to a staff member and squeezed through the crowd to greet him.
Tom shook his hand. "Mr. Flume, I'm just browsing. Please don't let me distract you."
"Nonsense. I've been waiting for you. The special batch I prepared is already packed."
He guided Tom and Daphne to the workshop behind the shop. Sure enough, a large bag of exclusive sweets awaited them, varieties not displayed in the front.
Daphne eagerly sampled one after another, while Tom discussed business with Flume.
"I truly owe you," Flume said with feeling. "Without your new sales channel, this year would have been far worse. Those Dementors nearly strangled our trade."
His courtesy was understandable.
After the Weasley twins' success, Tom had expanded the model to Hogsmeade. Many shop owners now sold goods through WhatsApp. In addition to advertising fees, Tom took a ten percent commission on each online transaction.
Though they surrendered part of their profit, the merchants accepted it. Previously, their sales were limited to physical foot traffic. Now their customer base had multiplied. It was infinitely more convenient than relying on owls.
Tom asked about user experience and possible improvements before escorting Daphne to the next shop.
The reception was similar everywhere. Smiling proprietors offered small gifts or discounts.
The most common suggestion he gathered concerned payment methods.
Currently, enchanted bank cards worked well, but unless it was an anonymous stored value card, only the vault owner could use it. Many customers were students or homemakers without personal vault access. They still had to pay with physical Galleons, adding inconvenience.
Tom made a mental note to refine the system.
...
Morning passed swiftly.
After purchasing several owl stamps from the Owl Post Office, Tom sent Daphne back to Hogwarts and returned with Hermione.
Hermione had no interest in sweets. They headed straight to the village bookstore, spending a long time browsing before stopping to buy cat food and treats for Crookshanks.
Since living with Hermione, Crookshanks had enjoyed a life of luxury. Already plump, he was now nearly spherical. Hermione struggled to carry him. Tom once weighed the creature and joked that holding him felt like cradling a water balloon.
Eventually, they arrived at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.
The waitress froze.
Tom had left a strong impression. Handsome young wizards were rare enough, but he had arrived that very morning with an adorable blonde companion.
Now he was back.
With a different girl.
Her professional composure barely concealed her internal judgment. She looked at Tom as though he were the embodiment of infidelity. If not for workplace discipline, she might have whispered a warning to Hermione.
Fortunately for her, she maintained that discipline.
Tom did not tolerate idle gossip about his private life.
He was an orphan who had grown up deprived of affection.
Surely having multiple girlfriends was not unreasonable?
Absolutely not.
Within the romantic ambiance of the tea shop, Hermione grew uncharacteristically quiet. Normally brisk and energetic, she now seemed softer, almost shy under the warm candlelight.
They sipped their drinks and talked aimlessly, smiles lingering effortlessly.
When most students began departing, they followed the crowd back to Hogwarts. Night had fallen. Pumpkin lanterns floated within the Great Hall, signaling that the Halloween feast would soon begin.
After parting with Hermione, Tom quickly flew to a location where Apparition was permitted.
...
At Nurmengard, Grindelwald paced his narrow cell restlessly.
Decades of confinement had not shaken his composure, yet the moment he resolved to escape, impatience set in.
Had Tom not insisted he wait until fully restored, he might have acted already. Even in his current weakened state, shattering mountains or toppling towers remained within his capability.
The wind howled across the peaks.
Tom appeared abruptly atop a mountain opposite Nurmengard. From this distance, the faint flicker of candlelight in the highest tower was barely visible.
Achievement points and accumulated energy flowed into the system.
A contract formed earlier resurfaced in Grindelwald's mind. Beneath his signature, Tom's name gleamed.
Golden light burst outward.
The contract dissolved into radiant motes that coursed through Grindelwald's body, carrying vitality and restoration.
The Dark Lord who had slumbered for fifty years opened his eyes once more.
He was awake.