— — — — — —
"...…"
Well, whatever. Anyone with half a brain could hear Tom was deliberately stirring the pot. Grindelwald certainly heard it.
But that didn't make him any less angry.
Inside the study space, Grindelwald's striking mismatched eyes turned unsettling, and his black coat rippled although there was no wind. His temper was clearly rising.
Dumbledore wanted to "settle things" with him… for the sake of a bunch of insignificant nobodies?
Andros had watched the whole exchange as well. He sat there grinning, wearing sunglasses, and eating popcorn from who-knows-where.
Anyone who stayed too close to a Riddle was bound to change. Even the world's most righteous man, a figure once hailed as Hercules, had started picking up bad habits.
With great concern—clearly fake—Andros said, "Gellert, maybe you should run for now. Tom spent so much effort restoring your state. You can't let yourself get taken out by Dumbledore before doing anything meaningful."
"Run, Gellert. Run."
"Just avoid his momentum. Once I'm free again, I'll help you get revenge."
"Avoid him? Run?" Grindelwald exploded. "He's an old relic now, over a hundred years old. I'm stronger than I was at my peak, and I have a trump card that restrains the Elder Wand. And you think I should avoid him?"
"Let him come! Let—"
Suddenly he froze, then sighed and flicked an annoyed blasting curse at Andros, who batted it away laughing.
"Oh, right. I've discovered something."
Grindelwald knew the two of them were messing with him, so he didn't bother arguing. He turned to Tom. "Remember the intel you got from that Laos?"
Tom blinked. "That thing. You're talking about the ancient ruin?"
"Exactly." Grindelwald's voice dropped. "The Picquery family was involved in researching that ruin. The first-generation vampires who carry the infection source… are tied to it."
"What kind of ruin is it?" Tom asked. "North America was basically barren land back in the day. I don't remember any great wizards coming from there."
"Not from this age. From the previous one."
Grindelwald spoke one word. "Aztec."
"Quetzalcoatl?" Tom understood immediately, then frowned. "You're saying there really was a prehistoric civilization?"
"Of course there was."
The voice didn't come from any of the men present. Ravenclaw materialized like a drifting ghost.
"This planet is billions of years old. Modern humans have only existed for a few million. The concept of recorded 'history' didn't even appear until a few thousand years ago.
"What you call prehistoric civilizations could be the remnants of people who survived a global extinction event, or simply cultures lost in the gaps of human recordkeeping.
"And the essence of mythology, you know well—it's early humanity's way of recording civilization. Don't deify it. Those so-called gods were probably powerful wizards. Some might have been weaker than you or me. True Gods have never existed in this world."
Her eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Aztec myths… I studied them for a while. I dismissed them as fanciful stories. Funny to learn they might actually be traces left by wizards."
Tom glanced at Andros. Made sense. The man was practically a myth himself.
Right after Andros appeared, he had told him: "Wizards are gods," and that Tom would one day become part of mythology. His philosophy actually aligned pretty well with Ravenclaw's.
But one thing she said lingered in Tom's mind—this world has never birthed a true god. What exactly counted as a "true" god? And how was she so certain?
He'd have to ask her later.
"So what's going on with the ruin?" Tom asked.
Grindelwald replied, "The Picquery family kept very little about it in their records. A few of them are researching it in a hidden location. I found some clues. I'm going to investigate."
"It's heavily tied to blood magic and the Fifth Suns."
In Aztec mythology, the world was not eternal but cycled through destruction and rebirth. The death of each sun signaled the end of one era and the start of another.
Four eras had already died. At Teotihuacan, the gods sacrificed themselves to create the Fifth Sun.
A reasonable idea for myth. A bit insane for the real world. But the myths had to come from something.
"Don't get entangled with Dumbledore right now," Tom said. "And don't waste too much time on the ruin either. I prefer picking peaches when they're ripe. Let them finish the research, then we go borrow the results."
"I need you to establish yourself in Europe as fast as possible. Plant your banner. Create a real force."
Grindelwald smirked. "You'd make your enemies do all the work and you get the reward, huh? You're worse than any Dark Wizard."
"Tsk... If you can't talk like a civilized human, go learn from Vinda. Look how elegantly she flatters people."
Tom's awareness drifted out of the study space.
He was still in Dumbledore's office. He'd been sitting back in a chair with his eyes closed for quite a while; the portraits on the wall had assumed he'd nodded off.
When they saw him stir, Phineas immediately sneered. "Riddle boy, you're the only student who dares fall asleep in the headmaster's office."
Tom didn't get offended. He smiled. "Then you'll be the first headmaster portrait to show up in the washroom."
He stepped toward the frame as if he really meant to take it down. Phineas' mustache practically stood on end. "Riddle, calm down. I was joking, obviously joking!"
"The great Phineas Black never jokes with students. You're making history today."
"No, no, who said it. I always joke with students."
"Sooo will the great Phineas quiet down next time?"
"Of course, of course. The headmaster's office is the perfect place to sleep, actually. You can treat it like your own room, Riddle."
The other headmasters were all trying not to laugh. Dealing with a bastard like Phineas required someone even more shameless, and Tom Riddle fit the bill. They were all too dignified to handle him.
Tom picked two books off Dumbledore's shelves at random, then walked to the window and looked outside.
Dark clouds were rolling in, thunder muttering under their bellies. He saw Hagrid ushering the students back toward the castle.
...
Tom headed down to the entrance hall to meet Hermione and Daphne.
"What did Dumbledore want with you?" Daphne asked as she tidied her hair, still messy from running.
"Grindelwald killed a few people in North America. Wiped out most of the former MACUSA president's family. Dumbledore's furious. He's heading over there to challenge Grindelwald to a duel." Tom gave them a simple rundown. No need to hide it.
By tomorrow or the day after, word of the Picquery family massacre would be everywhere.
This was also why Tom had no interest in North American families. Their roots were shallow, easy to remove.
In Europe, pure-blood families were so tangled and ancient that you couldn't finish killing them even if you tried. Halfway through, you might even discover you belonged to one of them.
One was a straight stick poking upward. The other was a colossal tree with a web of roots and sprawling branches. Sure, they looked the same height, but the spread and stability were worlds apart.
Hermione shivered. For a young witch, the idea of wiping out an entire family was beyond disturbing.
"That's awful. Grindelwald is even scarier than the Dark Lord."
Tom led them into the Great Hall and waved a hand. "You can't compare the two. Voldemort kills for fun, or rather, he uses killing as a tool to make people fear him."
"Grindelwald kills for revenge. He's not insane. He's an ambitious man."
"But ambitious people are more dangerous," Hermione argued. "Like… you know who."
"Non-magical society and the wizarding world have similarities, but you can't map everything one-to-one."
Tom saw Hermione's confused eyes and explained patiently. A wizard's power comes from within. Magic itself is a miracle. Grindelwald is dangerous because he's strong, which gives his ideology weight. If you replaced him with someone like Lockhart, trying to persuade people to overthrow the Statute of Secrecy… who would buy it?
"And even if someone did, they'd be idiots. Harmless idiots."
"So strength is the foundation of everything. Whatever someone believes or whatever their personality is, once they reach a certain level of power, they become a serious threat."
"Anyway, tomorrow night. I'll tutor you. Time to get stronger."
"…Okay." Hermione nodded, still a bit dazed.
...
Night fell. The younger students had already slipped comfortably into holiday mode. Tom, meanwhile, went up to the Room of Requirement to keep working.
Now that he had Ravenclaw's key, he no longer had to pace back and forth like a fool to open the door. The wall rippled like water and let him through.
The little garden inside had already laid out everything he needed: materials, tools, equipment.
Human laziness really was the mother of invention. Rowena Ravenclaw had done quite a bit of work just to make her private space convenient. All he had to do was want something, and if the room had it, it would simply appear.
In a way, the place was almost as capable as the study space.
On the long experiment table, more than three meters across, sat cauldrons, rune-carving tools, materials… and several stuffed teddy bears.
Tom casually picked one up and cut it open, revealing the intricate components and runes hidden inside.
Ravenclaw had done it to avoid tedious labor. Tom was working this hard for the same reason.
He refused to spend his life chained to a production line. So yes, he was desperate. If no alchemist alive could meet his standards, then he'd make one himself. He would create alchemical constructs with his own memories embedded into them, so they could work in his place.
At this level, "golem" didn't feel like the right word anymore. These were more like alchemical organisms.
Ravenclaw had understood his intent early on, which was why she'd shaped the training to match.
Even with their two brilliant minds working together, it was still insanely difficult. Golems didn't have human brains, so he needed to rely heavily on runework… and most importantly, soul energy.
From Kel'Thuzad's notes, Tom had learned several methods of extracting soul energy. But he wasn't going to kill innocents for experiments, so he moved carefully each time.
"Tom, look here. Shouldn't you add a Sustaining Charm? Any excess magic should be absorbed, not left to disperse. You can't rely only on flesh-based magic."
Tom listened seriously to Ravenclaw's instructions, nodding, adjusting, carving.
Two bottles of energy potion later, dawn was already creeping in.
He didn't forget his meeting with Fudge. After cleaning up the scraps, he stepped out of the Room of Requirement and headed straight to the headmaster's office to use the Floo to the Ministry.
...
Meanwhile...
Outside the castle, the clouds were still pitch-black, and something dark flickered through them.
.
.
.