As Tom passed through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, a thought struck him , this was only the second time he'd actually taken the train to Hogwarts. Every other year, something had interfered.
The moment he appeared, students spotted him instantly. Countless eyes turned his way, and in seconds, Tom Riddle became the center of attention.
The photograph from The Daily Prophet had left a lasting impression. Even though Tom had already done many unbelievable things , published research papers, stunned professors, and shaken up the magical academic world , none of that had reached students' hearts quite like that image had.
This time, it was different.
That photo captured what everyone already suspected but hadn't dared to admit: Tom had surpassed imagination itself.
Even the powerful wizards their parents revered , Ministry officials, heroes of history, figures whose names appeared in textbooks , stood beside him like equals. Some even let him take the seat of honor.
Whatever the reasons, the fact remained: they couldn't dream of achieving what he had.
Tom greeted those who approached him with polite smiles, never showing arrogance or pride. That only made him more likable.
If all Slytherins were as courteous as Tom Riddle, people thought, how could that House ever have become the most hated one at Hogwarts?
What they didn't know was that the current warped ideology of Slytherin was the long shadow cast by another "polite" Tom Riddle , the one history had already come to fear.
Tom wasn't putting on an act, though. He was observing , quietly, carefully , watching the reactions of the parents on the platform.
After all, what reason could anyone possibly have to hate such a well-mannered, hardworking young man?
Only two kinds of people, he thought grimly, would offer a five-thousand Galleon bounty for him.
The first: pure-blood fanatics driven mad by his recent article in The Magical History Review, desperate to silence him before his ideas spread.
The second: those greedy enough to covet his magical communicator, "WhatsApp." The timing was too coincidental , no bounty before, and suddenly one appeared right after the banquet.
Yes… that was entirely possible too.
Those guests may have all been people Nicolas Flamel personally vouched for, but they weren't Newt Scamander , not paragons of virtue who could be trusted beyond reason. When faced with wealth and glory beyond measure, even the best of men might falter.
By the time Tom boarded the train, his smile faded.
Nothing suspicious.
Plenty of old-fashioned pure-bloods still looked down on him, but their disdain now came tinged with fear. None seemed shocked to see him, which suggested they weren't behind the bounty.
Still, Tom didn't rule them out entirely. Some of them were excellent actors , the kind who could fool even him.
He'd wait for Rosier's investigation.
When the train started moving, peace eluded him. Dozens of students came by, pretending to greet him, but really just looking for gossip.
They wanted to know everything , about his supposed plan to "change the world," whether a secret organization was manipulating the wizarding world from behind the scenes, and if so, what rank he held within it.
After half an hour of this, Tom's head was pounding.
So he sighed, muttered something under his breath about "the Headmaster", and promptly shut up.
The moment he did, he gave the gossiping students a slow, meaningful look.
They all froze , and then, one by one, nodded in sudden "understanding" before hurrying off, eyes wide with the thrill of conspiracy.
Whatever stories they made up from that, Tom didn't care.
Finally alone, he closed the compartment door and exhaled in relief.
"Tom," Hermione said, looking worried, "aren't you afraid you'll get Professor Dumbledore into trouble, spreading rumors like that?"
Her voice was filled with genuine concern. She could already imagine the chaos of Hogwarts filled with wild stories , Dumbledore's reputation twisting into bizarre shapes, none of them flattering.
And if the Headmaster found out Tom was the source… even the calmest man would be angry.
Tom couldn't help but chuckle at her anxious little face.
"You're laughing!" she huffed, glaring at him.
"I can't help it , I'm just a cheerful person," he said lightly, then added, "But seriously, you don't understand Dumbledore. He doesn't care what people say about him. Half of Slytherin calls him a mad old fool."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "What?!"
She turned to Daphne for confirmation.
"Tom's right," Daphne said, nodding. "You think Dumbledore's wonderful because you're a Gryffindor at heart. But plenty of Slytherin families suffered because of him , of course they hate him.
"My father once said Lucius Malfoy even shouted at him across a table. Dumbledore didn't react at all. It's like arguing with a… lump of dough."
Hermione's face fell, her expression bewildered.
Her idol , reduced to an image of a soft, unbothered lump.
A strong man could be kind, even humble , but surely not spineless, right?
"He just doesn't bother with petty people," Tom said, shaking his head. "Though honestly, I don't always agree with his way of doing things. But don't mistake him for harmless, Hermione.
"For Christmas last year, he sent me a spell , a very special one. When you see it, you'll understand what kind of man he really is."
A mischievous smirk crept across Tom's lips. "And besides… this is just payback. The old man's already planning to use me for something."
"He's trying to trick you?" Astoria asked curiously. "If you already know, why not just avoid it?"
"I don't know what for yet," Tom admitted, leaning back. "I'll deal with it when the time comes."
Just then, the compartment door slid open.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" came the cheerful voice of the witch pushing the snack cart.
Their conversation ended there. Tom bought a generous amount, as usual.
It wasn't that the train snacks tasted better than what his house-elf, Parra, could cook. But sometimes… food wasn't about taste.
It was about nostalgia.
Even instant noodles and cheap sausages could taste divine , simply because they reminded you what it meant to be human.