— — — — — —
"I'll just ask him myself next time we're in the library."
"Tom always tells me the truth," Hermione said calmly.
crack
Daphne's spell fizzled again—another failed attempt. She didn't like the library's silent, sterile atmosphere. It was usually just Tom and Hermione having their little study sessions there while she was off doing her own thing.
Then something hit her, and a sly smile tugged at her lips.
"Oh... you haven't heard, have you? Tom agreed to tutor me. We spent the entire weekend together practicing spells. We probably won't have time for the library anymore. You might want to find another Gryffindor buddy."
Hermione froze, her lips pressed into a tight line.
'So that's why she hadn't seen Tom at all last weekend—he was off giving Daphne private lessons.'
She was smarter than Daphne. She worked harder too. And yet...
Because Tom often gave Daphne little pointers, their progress looked nearly the same.
'Maybe I should ask Tom for tutoring too...'
But then again, nothing comes free. Not in a world built on value and exchange.
What could she offer Tom in return?
That thought soured her mood completely, and she had no more energy left to bicker.
---
Meanwhile, Tom and Malfoy followed Filch.
Malfoy looked like he had a peacock feather stuck up his nose the way he walked, but noticeably didn't dare say a word to Tom.
He was scared of getting punched again.
And Filch? That Squib was as useful as a chocolate cauldron...
Hehe~ No one can save you, Riddle.
At least, that's how Malfoy saw it—Tom was bound to get hit with a heavy punishment. When that happened, it would be the perfect time to mock him.
And if Tom dared to raise a hand against him again, refusing to learn his lesson... well, expulsion might not be out of the question.
The thought made Malfoy snicker out loud, startling Filch, who had been walking ahead to guide them.
Filch shot him a weird look. 'What's with this nutcase grinning to himself?'
They came to a grotesque stone gargoyle. Filch stopped in front of it.
The statue suddenly came to life and asked in a deep voice, "Password?"
"Jelly slug," Filch replied.
The gargoyle moved aside, revealing the passage behind it.
"You can go in. The Headmaster is waiting." With that, Filch turned and left.
Malfoy rushed in immediately.
Tom followed, but the gargoyle suddenly extended a claw to block him.
"What was with that look you gave me, kid?" the gargoyle asked, sounding irritated.
Tom blinked in surprise. "Wait... you can understand human expressions?"
The gargoyle grinned with cracked stone lips. "I've been around longer than your whole family tree. Don't think I didn't catch that little look of disgust."
Tom raised a brow. "Alright then. How long have you been around? Who made you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" the gargoyle said smugly. "That's classified. Not telling."
Tom shrugged. "Fair enough. And yeah, I was judging you. You're ugly as hell."
The gargoyle looked downright offended. "Ugly?! That's not on me, blame the guy who made me—bloody Salazar and his twisted taste..."
"Oh," Tom said, suddenly understanding. "So you were made by one of the Founders. That explains why you're a lot smarter than the other statues."
"You little Slytherin brat!" the gargoyle growled, eyes widening. "You tricked me into talking! Fine, just get in already!" With a push, it shoved Tom into the rotating staircase and slammed the stone shut behind him.
Tom was left speechless. "Weren't you the one who spilled all the info first?"
The staircase carried him upward until he arrived at a door shaped like a majestic creature—part lion, part eagle, part beast.
The door was slightly open. He stepped inside.
Inside the room were three people: Dumbledore and two platinum-blond Malfoys.
[Host has entered the Headmaster's office. Achievement unlocked: +10 points.]
[Bonus available: Sneak into the Headmaster's Office at night for 50 Achievement Points.]
[Keep up the good work!]
"Good afternoon, Professor." Tom gave a small, polite nod, completely ignoring the two Malfoys.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore replied with a warm smile. With a flick of his wand, a plush armchair appeared behind Tom.
"Please, make yourself comfortable. I just want to understand what happened. I heard you and Mr. Malfoy had a bit of a... disagreement?"
Tom sat down, nodding slightly. "It seems Malfoy thought an orphan would be easy to push around—an easy target to boost his own self-worth."
"Unfortunately for him, orphans are experts at self-defense."
"He's lying!" Draco cut in loudly, encouraged by the presence of his father. "I never laid a hand on him! I just had Goyle give him a friendly reminder to stay low-profile, and he—he attacked me!"
"You?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "A friendly reminder? Malfoy, don't tell me you expect me to live like you—tail between my legs—and not even show up to the duel you arranged yourself?"
Both Malfoys' faces turned an ugly shade of red.
Tom looked directly at Lucius Malfoy. With his perfectly styled white-blond hair and haughty expression, the older man practically radiated malice—directed squarely at Tom.
Tom didn't care. Kids who run to tattle all the time were always annoying. He knew Dumbledore would take his side in the end. He wasn't worried about Malfoy's pettiness. Still… even a fly can be annoying if it buzzes around long enough.
Maybe it was time to act the part of a dark wizard—just a little.
Let Draco get a taste of what it's like to live like an orphan.
Still, Draco would be far more fortunate than Tom. At the very least, he would inherit a massive fortune. And in the wizarding world, there were no inheritance taxes—actually, no taxes at all. It was practically paradise for aristocrats and capitalists.
Just as Lucius was racking his brain, trying to come up with some angle of attack, he suddenly felt the hairs on his arms stand up and a chill creep down his spine.
He looked up—straight into Tom's icy, unblinking eyes.
That look… he'd seen it before. On him. On the Dark Lord. On the other Tom Riddle.
A violent shiver ran through Lucius. He suddenly slapped the table with his palm, making the tea set rattle violently.
"Outrageous!"
"Exactly!" Draco jumped up, clearly proud that his father was backing him up.
"I won't allow the Malfoy name to be dragged through the mud over childish nonsense!"
"Exactly—our name deserves respect!" Draco agreed enthusiastically.
"Draco! So you were the one who picked a fight with Mr. Riddle for no reason! Apologize to him at once!"
"Exactly—wait, what?!"
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