— — — — — —
The notebook in Tom's hands wasn't a spellbook in the traditional sense. There were no wand movements, no incantations. It was more like the secrets behind Occlumency or Legilimency—a manual on controlling the mind itself.
The first requirement was mastery of Occlumency. You had to understand your own mind and spirit before you could reshape them.
Tom could skip that part entirely. He was already a master of mental defense—easily on Snape's level, and capable of hiding his thoughts from both Voldemort and Dumbledore.
The second step, however, was trickier: separating mental energy.
Separating it like strands of hair—turning a solid clump of power into finer threads that could later be stored or sealed. The core training method? True multitasking. Thinking two things at once—or even three.
Tom thought this would be easy. He already split his focus between the outside world and his study space all the time.
Ravenclaw clearly disagreed. She set up two chessboards and told him to play both simultaneously.
After a few minutes, she called him to a stop.
"Tom, that's not it."
Seeing his puzzled expression, she explained, "You're not really doing two things at once. You're just switching your attention back and forth very quickly. It looks similar, but it's fundamentally different."
"I need you to think about both boards at the same time, not one for a second, then the other for a second."
Tom gave it a try, following her instructions. Within moments, his mind turned to mush. He didn't even know what moves he was making. Three minutes later, he'd lost both games—Ravenclaw had only lost three pieces total.
"Take it slow," she said with a gentle smile. "Once you get past the first wall, it becomes easier."
Tom rubbed his temples. "How long did you take to get the hang of it?"
"Me?" Ravenclaw tilted her head, thinking. "I never really noticed. There were so many problems I wanted to solve at the time... and somewhere along the way, it just became instinct."
"..."
"Show-off." Tom laughed helplessly. "Alright, I'll pick it up again later. I've got to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow."
As his body began to fade from the study space, he glanced at his system interface.
[Ravenclaw's Approval: 16]
Only sixteen? Women's hearts were truly unfathomable. Still, once her approval reached twenty-five, maybe he could unlock a talent related to her.
Tom suspected Ravenclaw's greatest gift wasn't her magic at all—it was her mind.
---
The next morning
Most students left the common room around eight or nine. The younger ones headed to breakfast in the Great Hall, while the older ones—those with Hogsmeade permission slips—marched eagerly toward the front gates.
After all, why fill up at breakfast when you could save room for Honeydukes and butterbeer?
"Be good, Astoria. I'll bring you back some sweets!" Daphne said in her best big-sister tone, patting her little sister's head.
Astoria barely resisted rolling her eyes. "Just have fun, sis. Don't worry about me."
"Of course." Daphne puffed out her modest chest proudly. "I've studied all the Hogsmeade guides. I'll be the perfect tour guide for Tom!"
Astoria gave her an awkwardly polite smile.
'Tom's already taken me there more times than I can count, sis. You're the one getting the tour this time.'
At the end of the line, Tom walked beside Daphne toward the school gates, where Filch was carefully checking each name against his list like a detective hunting criminals.
This time, Harry didn't need to sneak out under his Invisibility Cloak like in the original timeline. With Sirius's signature, he was free to go—grinning ear to ear as he left with Ron and Neville.
When it was Tom's turn, Filch's expression softened instantly.
"Ah, Mr. Riddle! I've got your name right here. You can head out."
"Thanks, Mr. Filch," Tom said with a polite nod, leading Daphne through the gate without issue.
Ever since he'd saved Mrs. Norris the previous year—and caught her attacker—Filch had treated him with unusual respect.
What Tom didn't know was that part of that goodwill came from something else. Filch, a Squib himself, didn't see pity or disgust in Tom's eyes—and that the boy's attitude toward him hadn't changed one bit, just as he was like anyone else in Hogwarts.
That alone had earned Filch's silent respect.
...
After walking for a while, Daphne started to look bored, so Tom quietly grabbed her hand and Apparated them straight to Hogsmeade.
The village looked completely different from usual. Every house had pumpkin lanterns hanging by the door, and shop signs had been replaced with floating ghosts that puffed out white mist from their open mouths. The Halloween vibe hit instantly.
In addition to the usual visitors, there were far more ghosts than usual. By rough count, there were around two hundred ghosts scattered across Britain—but on Halloween, they all came together for gatherings like this.
"Look, the Headless Band!" Daphne pointed excitedly at a group of headless ghosts drifting by. "Their music's the worst thing I've ever heard, but for some reason ghosts love it."
"That's what you call inhuman taste," Tom said dryly. "If you liked it, that would be the problem."
"Ha, fair point. Come on, candy first!" She hooked her arm through his and dragged him toward Honeydukes.
Inside, the shop was bursting with customers. The owner, Ambrosius Flume, and his assistants were moving quickly behind the counter, all smiles as they served the flood of students.
Whenever Hogwarts had an open Hogsmeade weekend, business soared—but this year was especially good. Normally, the presence of two stationed Dementors scared off a lot of customers, which had caused the local shopkeepers to protest to the Ministry again and again. The Ministry's reply had been the same every time: {Once we catch the two fugitives, the Dementors will leave.}
Today, though, was different. The Heads of House themselves had come to Hogsmeade to supervise, temporarily driving the Dementors away so students could actually enjoy themselves.
"Mr. Riddle!"
Flume looked up in the middle of packing a box of sweets and immediately lit up when he spotted Tom. He hurriedly passed his work to a clerk and squeezed through the crowd to greet him.
Tom smiled and shook his hand. "Mr. Flume, we're just browsing. You don't have to—"
"Nonsense! I've been waiting for you! The special batch I prepared is ready." Flume gestured for Tom and Daphne to follow him into the workshop behind the store, where a large bag of candy waited—limited editions not available on display.
Daphne eagerly opened each box and sampled them one by one, while Tom chatted with the shopkeeper about business.
"It's all thanks to you," Flume said with a sigh of relief. "If it weren't for your new sales network, this year would've been a disaster. Those Dementors nearly ruined us."
His gratitude made sense. After Fred and George's shop had become a success through Tom's new marketing model, Tom had expanded the system to Hogsmeade. Many local shopkeepers were now using the "Codex" platform to sell products online. Tom charged a 10% commission per sale, plus advertising fees.
Even with the cut, the merchants were thrilled. Before, their customer base was limited to whoever visited the store. Now they could sell across the country.
Tom noted down Flume's feedback and suggestions for improvements before leaving with Daphne to visit other shops.
Everywhere they went, it was the same—warm welcomes, free gifts, and generous discounts. The biggest complaint he heard was about payment methods.
Currently, magical cards could only be used by their vault owners. Students and housewives without Gringotts access still had to pay in gold, adding an annoying extra step to transactions.
Tom jotted it down mentally. Something to fix later.
By the time they were done, the morning had flown by. After a final stop at the Owl Post Office to buy a few stamps, Tom escorted Daphne back to Hogwarts before returning to Hogsmeade with Hermione.
Hermione wasn't interested in sweets, so they headed straight for the bookstore, browsing shelves for a long while before stopping by the pet shop to buy Crookshanks some food and treats.
Since becoming Hermione's cat, Crookshanks had been living the good life. It had gotten so fat that picking it up felt like holding a furry water balloon. Tom couldn't help finding it hilarious every time.
When they finally arrived at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop—the most popular date spot in town—the waitress froze in disbelief.
She remembered this boy vividly: ridiculously good-looking, polite, charming. He'd been here just this morning… with another girl.
Now he was back. With someone else.
Her expression screamed scumbag. If not for professional restraint, she might've tattled to Hermione right then and there.
Good thing she didn't. It wouldn't have affected Tom anyway—and it would've cost her the job. Tom had no patience for people gossiping about his personal life.
...
Once inside the tea shop, Hermione's usual confidence softened. Surrounded by candlelight and couples, she seemed almost delicate—a rare contrast to her usual sharp, fiery energy.
They sipped their drinks and talked about everything and nothing, laughter never leaving their faces.
When most students began heading back, they followed, returning to Hogwarts as dusk fell. Pumpkin lanterns floated above the Great Hall, glowing warmly as preparations for the Halloween feast began.
After parting with Hermione, Tom slipped away to the edge of the school grounds—the furthest point where Apparition was still allowed—and vanished.
— — —
Nurmengard
Gellert Grindelwald paced restlessly inside his narrow cell.
He'd been imprisoned for decades, but now that freedom was within reach, patience had become unbearable.
If not for Tom insisting he wait until his full strength was restored, Grindelwald would've already made his move. Even weakened, he could still level a mountain or two without much trouble.
A cold wind howled through the peaks. Tom appeared silently on the mountain opposite the towering fortress, eyes locked on the faint flicker of candlelight at its highest window.
Then he transferred his accumulated points into the system.
Inside his cell, Grindelwald froze. The magic contract he'd signed with Tom flared in his mind, his name glowing gold beneath Tom's. Light burst through him, rippling across his body as the contract dissolved into sparks of power that soaked into his flesh.
A surge of vitality and magic flooded his veins.
After fifty long years of slumber—
The Dark Wizard, Leader of the Acolytes, was back.
.
.
.