The start-of-term feast was a lavish affair. Dumbledore gave a bizarre, four-word speech—"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"—which was met with thunderous applause, and then the food appeared. Tom ate ravenously, the high-quality castle cuisine a welcome change from his life at the home.
At the Slytherin table, however, the atmosphere was chilling. Whispers followed him. Once it became known he was Muggle-born, the other students looked at him with a mixture of disdain, curiosity, and contempt.
"Don't worry," Daphne whispered, her face creased with concern. "In Slytherin, blood matters. But power matters more. If you are strong, they will respect you."
After the feast, the Slytherin prefects led the first-years down into the dungeons, to a bare stone wall.
"Pure-blood," the male prefect said. The wall slid open, revealing the Slytherin common room.
It was a long, low-ceilinged room under the Black Lake. Greenish light filtered through the large windows, revealing the murky depths outside, occasionally disturbed by the shadow of a giant squid. The room was furnished with carved chairs and silver lamps, but the overall feeling was cold, dark, and damp.
Tom was assigned a dormitory with three other boys: Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Cassare Rosier. All were from established pure-blood families.
The moment the door closed, the trouble began.
"Ugh, sharing a room with a Mudblood," Zabini sneered, tossing his bag onto a bed. "What rotten luck. You, Riddle. Unpack my things and make my bed. Use my sheets, not this school-supplied rubbish."
"And get me a glass of water," Nott added with a laugh.
Tom sighed. He had known this was coming. He drew his new yew wand.
"Impacto!"
It was a simple, non-verbal concussive hex Andros had taught him, an ancient spell far more efficient than modern equivalents. An invisible wave of force slammed into the three boys, throwing them against the far wall. Before they could even cry out, Tom flicked his wrist. The ropes from their trunks flew out and bound them tightly, hoisting them upside down in the air.
"I heard Slytherins were supposed to be cunning," Tom said, his voice dangerously soft as he paced before them. "Ambitious. Powerful. Yet here you are, three witless fools who didn't even bother to learn the name of the person you intended to bully."
He let the silence hang in the air, thick with their fear.
"You want to establish a pecking order? Fine." He gave his wand another flick, and the three boys dropped to the floor in a heap. "I am the order. This room, and everyone in it, belongs to me. You will follow my rules. You will not speak to me unless spoken to. You will not look at me without permission. Is that understood?"
The three boys, trembling and bruised, could only nod.
"Good," Tom said, a cold smile touching his lips. "Welcome to Slytherin."
That night, Tom retreated to the safety of the Learning Space, his mind reeling. He recounted the evening's events to Andros, who laughed heartily.
"You did well, Tom! A decisive show of force is the only language bullies understand."
"I just wanted to study quietly," Tom lamented. "Why did that Hat put me here?"
"Because it was right," Andros said, his tone suddenly serious. "Knowledge is a tool, Tom, but it is not the source of a wizard's strength. Tell me, what are the three pillars of magic?"
"Magical power and will," Tom recited.
"You forget the third, and most important: Emotion," Andros corrected him. He summoned his giant Patronus again, its light filling the grey space. "Power is the fuel. Will is the channel. But Emotion… emotion is the fire that determines the magnitude of the flame. Magic is of the mind, and the mind is driven by passion, by joy, by rage. The challenges you face in Slytherin are not a curse; they are a crucible. They will force you to temper your will with emotion. They will make you strong."
Andros's words struck Tom like a physical blow, unlocking a new level of understanding. The world seemed to shift into a sharper focus. He felt a profound change within him.
To grasp this new concept fully, he activated his. For ten minutes, his mind worked at an impossible speed, absorbing Andros's lesson, connecting it to every piece of magical theory he had ever learned. When the state faded, he raised his own wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silver mist erupted, and with a surge of will and newfound emotional clarity, he shaped it. A humanoid figure, two meters tall and glowing with faint silver light, stood before him. It was indistinct, a mere silhouette, but it was his.
//TEACHER RECOGNITION//
> Teacher 'Andros' has reached 50% Approval.
> Reward processing...
> You have acquired the Talent: [Absolute Justice].
> [Absolute Justice]: The power of your non-Dark offensive spells is amplified. The amplification scales with your magical growth.
> New Function Unlocked:.
>: Allow your teacher to control your body to demonstrate magic. Duration: 5 minutes. Cooldown: 24 hours.
As the new talent settled in, his Patronus flared, becoming brighter and more solid.
The next morning, Tom was awoken by his roommates, who were chattering loudly. A single, sharp glare and three quick, stinging hexes sent them scurrying from the room.
Outside in the common room, the three boys huddled together, plotting their revenge. They were too afraid to confront Tom directly. Using a cursed object was too risky with Dumbledore in the castle. Their solution was simple: they would go to their Head of House.
"We'll tell Professor Snape," Rosier whispered, rubbing a welt on his arm. "My parents were… colleagues of his. He'll have to help us."
Unseen in a shadowy corner, Daphne Greengrass overheard every word, her expression clouded with worry.