Tom didn't have a cheat system. But perhaps because he had lived two lives, his memory—while not quite photographic—was far better than that of ordinary people, and his learning ability was exceptionally strong as well.
Don't think that only students in the East have competitions. British schools were no different.
Relying on prize money from various contests, school stipends, government subsidies, and even appearance fees from television programs, Tom had managed to save up a fair amount of money.
The cash in the drawer was merely his everyday pocket money. He also had forty thousand pounds sitting in a bank account, quietly earning interest.
When Dumbledore learned just how capable Tom was, all he could do was give a thumbs-up in sincere admiration.
After saying goodbye to Ms. Arman, Tom followed Dumbledore as they left the children's home.
If it had been any other child, Ms. Arman would never have been so at ease. But Tom's maturity and competence, displayed from a young age, had made her relax considerably.
Or perhaps… Dumbledore had secretly used a bit of magic?
Walking along a tree-lined path, Dumbledore didn't use wizarding means to save time. Instead, he leisurely led Tom toward the train station, chatting along the way like a caring elder, asking about everyday matters.
Tom didn't hide anything and spoke frankly about his situation.
He had been abandoned and become an orphan. His arrival in this world had been an accident—his parents had given him only a name and a surname as a "gift" of birth before leaving him at the door of an orphanage.
The next time he heard any news about them was through a report of a plane crash.
They left behind no inheritance—only a mountain of debt. Fortunately, none of it fell on him.
After hearing this, the corner of Dumbledore's mouth twitched slightly.
Things like this seemed rather common in the Muggle world—unplanned pregnancies carried to term due to strict abortion laws, only for the parents to realize they lacked the means to raise the child and dump the mess on the government while they went off to enjoy their lives.
Little did they know that the English magical world had reached the point of severe population decline. Families like the Weasleys were the rare exception—six boys and one girl standing together was enough to make any pure-blood family green with envy.
Countless people regretted not marrying Molly Weasley back in the day. Otherwise, their own families might have been the flourishing ones.
Same country, different fates.
"I noticed the children at the home seem rather afraid of you?"
While sighing inwardly, Dumbledore didn't forget to probe a bit further.
Even when the two left, the boy named Seth was still dutifully punching the sandbag exactly as Tom had instructed.
That scene stirred up some rather unpleasant memories.
"Sir."
Tom stopped walking and looked up at Dumbledore. The beard was so thick that the boy couldn't make out his full face—only those deep, penetrating eyes.
"Do you know what an orphan fears the most?"
Dumbledore adopted a listening posture.
"It's being afraid that others will see your weakness."
Tom continued calmly, "Once people realize you're easy to bully, some will try to bully you just to feel pleasure."
"And the best way to prevent bullying… is to arm yourself, and strike first."
Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly, his beard trembling.
"Of course, I'm not bullying Seth," Tom quickly added. "He's my friend. I'm just teaching him some self-defense skills. He's about to start secondary school—he needs the strength to protect himself."
"He'll understand your good intentions."
Thinking of how Seth, despite his miserable expression, still conscientiously completed Tom's assignment, Dumbledore could tell their relationship was solid. His mood lifted considerably as he said cheerfully,
"I think you have a very good chance of becoming an excellent Hufflepuff—provided you don't bully others."
"Hufflepuff? What's that?"
"The name of a House. Each one is outstanding in its own way…"
Their shadows stretched longer and longer, gradually disappearing from Elm Tree Avenue.
...
After taking a train and then the Underground, an hour and a half later the two finally arrived at the entrance to Diagon Alley—the filthy, run-down Leaky Cauldron.
Three in the afternoon wasn't peak time. Only two or three tables were occupied.
The moment they saw Dumbledore, every wizard who had been drinking and boasting immediately stood up, greeting him nervously. The hunchbacked man wiping the bar with a grimy rag hurried over as well, smiling from ear to ear.
"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore."
"Good afternoon, Tom—oh, wait, there's another Tom here."
Dumbledore laughed and introduced them to each other.
"Mr. Riddle, this is Tom. Quite a coincidence, isn't it? Tom, Mr. Riddle is this year's new student. I'm here to help him purchase what he needs."
"Fate, truly fate! Pleased to meet you, little Tom."
The innkeeper Tom laughed heartily. Although there were tens of thousands—if not more—Toms in Britain, out of respect for Dumbledore he became even more enthusiastic than before.
"After you're done shopping, feel free to sit down for a drink. My treat—non-alcoholic butterbeer."
"An excellent idea."
Dumbledore agreed. "Then we'd better hurry. See you later, Tom."
"See you later, Dumbledore."
Dumbledore led Tom through the pub to the small courtyard out back. Taking out a wand with knuckle-like protrusions, he explained how to enter Diagon Alley.
"Three up… two across…"
The wand tapped three times. The bricks began to shift, and in the blink of an eye a wide archway opened up. A wave of noise and bustle rushed toward them.
Tom's eyes lit up as he looked at the dense crowd beyond.
"The world of magic…"
"Exactly—the world of magic."
Dumbledore liked the expression on Tom's face very much. At last, he saw a trace of the childlike wonder he should have had all along.
"Come. The most important thing first…"
He smiled.
"Money."
Dumbledore led Tom down the length of the street to the entrance of Gringotts. He was so popular that in just a few hundred meters, people constantly stopped to greet him.
At the grand doors of Gringotts, two goblins bowed respectfully. One of them became their personal attendant, leading the pair to the counter to exchange money.