— — — — — —
Hermione's guess was spot on. The elderly witch Tom was speaking with was none other than the legendary figure of British magical education, Griselda Marchbanks. One of the Wizengamot elders
The hunched old woman had celebrated her one hundred and ninetieth birthday just last year, and it had even made the papers. After all, many of the guests who attended her celebration were heavyweight figures in the British wizarding world, Dumbledore included.
Her reason for coming this time was simple. She wanted to invite Tom to serve as a question writer for Ancient Runes in the two major exams, possibly even the chief examiner.
Ever since the existence of communication runes had been made public, Tom's status in the runic world had shot straight to the top, completely uncontested.
The logic was obvious. Everyone else was researching runes, digging deeper into mysteries that already existed. Tom, on the other hand, was creating runes for them to study. They weren't even playing on the same field.
With someone like that in Britain, Marchbanks had no choice but to rope Tom into setting exam questions. Only then could the exams maintain their authority and relevance.
After all, when even a creator of runes says, "Yes, this knowledge point is worth testing," what excuse do you have not to study?
So despite Tom's awkward age and status, Marchbanks insisted he take the role.
In the end, Tom agreed, mostly because he was worried the old lady might talk herself into running out of breath if he kept refusing.
Being an examiner had its perks anyway. His standing in both educational and academic circles would rise, and the influence of his published papers would naturally increase along with it.
These days, he was earning over two thousand academic points every month just from his papers alone. Sadly, they didn't convert into achievement points. If they did, he'd already be filthy rich.
Having achieved her goal, the old lady left in high spirits, with Dumbledore carefully escorting her away. A whole pack of elderly wizards followed along as well. Dumbledore had to handle these relics delicately. Watching his retreating figure, Tom couldn't help thinking he looked a bit pathetic.
"Professor McGonagall."
Tom called out to her, stopping her from following the group. He'd meant to find her anyway, but she'd been blocked by the crowd.
"I have a suggestion. The other schools will be arriving soon, right? You and the other professors could run some pre-competition training for the selected champions."
McGonagall's eyes lit up. "That's actually a very good idea, Mr. Riddle. I'll give it serious consideration."
"It's all for the school," Tom said casually. "But Hermione's training can be left to me. You don't mind, do you?"
McGonagall laughed softly.
At this point, Tom's achievements had already surpassed those of the heads of house. As for his strength, she needed no further proof. The barrier that had stopped Grindelwald last time said everything.
What could she possibly be worried about?
If Tom offered to train everyone, she'd be far more nervous. She was afraid that if he got playful, he might push the students too far.
After watching McGonagall disappear up the moving staircase, Tom turned back and teased Hermione.
"I'll tutor you this weekend. No crying, all right?"
The girl scrunched up her nose cutely. "I won't. No matter how hard it is, I'm not scared."
Tom wasn't doing this out of kindness, nor because he was overflowing with school spirit. He had neither.
Truth be told, he was just petty.
Those schools hadn't wanted him to compete, had they? Fine. If Hogwarts students grew stronger, their chances of winning would go up. And if that still wasn't enough to guarantee victory, then he'd resort to a few tricks outside the rules.
That sort of thing was his specialty.
If you didn't believe it, you could ask the thunderbird he'd fattened up before, or Fawkes, who now ate so much every day he could barely fly.
...
"Tom, what was all that just now?" Hermione asked softly, and Tom gave her a brief explanation of Marchbanks's intentions. The little witch looked even more excited than he did and dragged him straight to the Room of Requirement to help her catch up on runes.
Tom also wanted to train some high-level talent. When he'd created communication runes, he'd only thought about making them usable for himself. He hadn't considered the overall level of the magical world at all.
The result was that many people couldn't even reach the entry threshold to learn them.
He was counting on waves of people helping him develop "apps" in the future. If he had to do everything himself, he'd die of exhaustion sooner or later.
It wasn't that Tom hadn't considered using memory magic to force-feed knowledge into people. But unlike the situation with the Lubans, creating them was like painting on a blank sheet of paper. Force-feeding memories and dreams into existing minds was more like restoring and modifying a complex painting. The difficulty was on a completely different level.
It was also dangerous.
Only freaks like Ravenclaw could handle it.
Otherwise, he would've long since used memory magic to boost the girls' magical abilities. Why bother teaching the hard way?
...
As the competition drew closer, the professors grew increasingly tense. Compared to rankings, they cared more about how the outside world would judge Hogwarts as a whole. This was both a showcase and a test.
As a result, lessons started to go off-topic.
Professors would be teaching normally one moment, then suddenly veer into something completely unrelated.
For example, during a fifth-year class, McGonagall specifically called out the twins and warned them that if they dared cause trouble while the other schools were present, she would invite their mother to serve as disciplinary prefect.
The threat drained the color from their faces instantly.
Potions class was no better. Snape prowled around the room, staring darkly at every workstation. The slightest stain left uncleaned was enough to earn a verbal lashing.
"If you want students from other schools to think Hogwarts produces nothing but slobs, I couldn't care less," Snape sneered. "But if my personal reputation suffers because of you, I swear that even after you graduate, I can still summon you back here and make you clean for the rest of your lives."
Neville felt like Snape was clearly talking about him.
Strangely enough, he wasn't scared.
If anything… that didn't sound too bad? Didn't that mean he was guaranteed a job for life after graduation?
Besides Snape, Neville actually quite liked life at Hogwarts.
Snape, completely unaware that his intimidation had missed the mark, smugly raised an eyebrow at Harry and Ron. He then ignored Tom entirely and strode back to the podium to continue teaching.
The most unhinged of them all, however, was Filch.
Armed with a magnifying glass, he roamed the castle all day long, inspecting the edges of statues and frames. If he spotted even a speck of stubborn grime on a wall, he'd return with industrial-strength cleaner and a bucket, scrubbing for hours on end.
Tom actually approved of that attitude. Whatever students thought of Filch, the man took his job seriously. His responsibility was maintaining a thousand-year-old castle, and he treated it as such.
Every weekend, the selected competitors were subjected to intensive training sessions. McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, and Lupin rotated through drills and lectures, pushing them relentlessly.
Having that many professors take turns teaching and throwing them into live combat practice was exhilarating, but by the end of the day, everyone was battered, bruised, and mentally fried.
Ginny even lost her temper with Tom.
Why did he only tutor Hermione and dump her on the professors instead? After getting verbally shredded by Snape all day, she was practically questioning her existence.
Tom pressed her down across his lap and gave her a sound spanking until she finally behaved.
Of course, discipline alone wasn't enough. You had to offer a little sweetness too.
"I tutor Hermione because she's weaker than you, my beautiful dark witch," Tom murmured by Ginny's ear. His warm breath washed over her, leaving the girl dizzy, the tips of her ears turning as red as her hair.
"You're more talented than Hermione. By second year standards, no one can touch you. That's why I'm comfortable handing you over to the professors. Got it?"
"I… I get it."
"Good girl. Then go back and sleep. I've been really busy lately. When I have time, I'll deal with you properly, all right?"
Watching Ginny skip away, Tom let out a quiet sigh.
He really was a scumbag. He could say things like that without blinking.
After scolding himself a bit, he felt better.
---
During the last week of February, Tom went to the headmaster's office to request leave.
"Professor, the Wizarding Guild is basically set up, but the remaining work needs me there in person. I need to take about half a month off."
Dumbledore was taken aback. He hadn't expected Tom to move this quickly.
After a moment's thought, he approved the request, but not without adding a condition.
When the Wizarding Guild signed a three-way treaty with Grindelwald and the twenty-plus Ministries of Magic, Dumbledore had to be present.
He was worried his student might get abducted right under his nose.
Tom couldn't help laughing after hearing this. "Professor, even if I didn't notify you, those Ministry officials wouldn't let you off the hook. If you weren't there, would they really dare face Grindelwald alone?"
"Give it a few days at most. They'll come knocking themselves."
Dumbledore laughed as well. His concern had clouded his judgment. He'd forgotten just how intimidating Grindelwald was on his own.
With his leave slip in hand, Tom openly used the Floo Network in the office to return home. He collapsed onto the soft sofa and started thinking.
The Wizarding Guild wouldn't make any major moves at first, but there would be endless minor issues. He could handle most routine matters, but he needed someone reliable to hold the fort.
Lady Greengrass had been helping nonstop lately and was the best candidate. Unfortunately, the Department of Magical Transportation was a hereditary post in her family. He couldn't very well ask her to quit and start a business with him.
So Tom had to look elsewhere.
After thinking it over for a long time, he landed on a candidate...
He pulled out his codex and chatted with that person for only a few minutes before suddenly sitting bolt upright. He changed out of his school robes, slipped on a trench coat, and stepped forward.
The world shifted, and he appeared in another part of London. He knocked on a door.
It opened almost immediately, revealing Sirius Black's handsome, unruly face.
Sirius hurried him inside. The moment they sat down, he couldn't wait any longer.
"Tom, tell me everything," Sirius said eagerly. "What exactly do I have to do if I want to become the Guild Master?"
.
.
.