For the first time, Tom found himself unable to keep up with Andros's train of thought.
Hadn't the whole ordeal already passed? Then why did this so-called righteous man seem even more vengeful than he was? He hadn't even been wronged, yet still wanted payback?
Seeing Tom's dumbfounded expression, Andros burst into hearty laughter.
"Tom, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not some petty man who holds grudges."
"It's just that Snape has something I need. No—more accurately, something you need."
"Something I need?" Tom paused for a moment before his mind quickly pieced it together. "You mean those potion ingredients?"
"Exactly."
Andros admitted to his target and then raised an eyebrow. "Tom, do you know how wizards fought in my era?"
Tom blinked, caught off guard. "How else would they fight? Wand duels, curses flying back and forth... If they're a bit sneakier, maybe some poison, ambushes, assassinations, or a good old-fashioned gang-up."
Andros twitched slightly. "Most of what you just said... is accurate. But maybe don't say it out loud again."
He couldn't deny it—back then, to win and survive, wizards had to resort to tactics far more despicable than Tom could even imagine.
Andros's expression turned serious as he returned to the topic. "Magic is indeed a wizard's greatest weapon, but beyond that..."
He suddenly struck a bodybuilding pose. "Physical strength is not to be overlooked!"
"As the saying goes... 'Massive muscles, passionate battles!'"
"Whether it's dodging a hex or launching a swift preemptive strike, you need your body to back it up. Sometimes—when it comes to close combat—your fists are way more useful than casting a spell!"
A proud gleam shone in Andros's eyes. "Back in my day, plenty of wizards were pummeled to death by these iron fists of mine. Some of them were even what you'd call top-tier talents—pure academic types who only knew how to fight from a distance. Once I got in close, they panicked. Complete joke of a generation."
"And as for strengthening the body, I've got a full training regimen and matching potions. Originally, I was going to wait until you had some foundation before teaching you, but... after what I just saw in Snape's stash, I think we can move up the timeline."
"So it's my poverty holding back my growth..."
Tom murmured to himself. He had always heard the phrase 'the poor study literature, the rich practice martial arts', but he hadn't expected wizardry to be so pay-to-win.
"What ingredients do we need?" he asked again.
Andros laid out the potion formula—over ten ingredients in total, clearly high-grade potion territory. Aside from a few cheap, commonly found herbs, the rest were outrageously expensive.
A dragon's heart—Tom had seen it at the apothecary last time. Eight Galleons per ounce, and that was for the non-fresh stuff. Dragon's blood grass—fifteen Galleons a stalk, and they needed eight.
The scariest of all… the eyeball of a Sphinx's claw. Rarer than dragons. Protected species. No way a standard apothecary would carry it. Knockturn Alley might, maybe, if you were lucky—but even then, the price was volatile and practically immeasurable.
And as fate would have it… almost all of these could be found in Snape's private collection.
"Let's do it."
Tom instantly agreed to Andros's plan. Screw Snape.
After all, a student striving for self-improvement deserved some "sponsorship" from their professor, didn't they?
"I took a good look earlier. Snape's way too confident in himself. No magical protection on the office door, and those potion ingredients? Not even shielded. We just need a chance to slip inside."
Tom was careful by nature. Before entering Snape's office, he had already activated his Study Space. If Snape had tried anything funny, he would've immediately summoned Andros using the "Embody Knowledge" feature. Thanks to that, Andros had gotten a crystal-clear view of the office layout.
"Let me come up with a plan," Tom said, falling deep into thought.
Grabbing things for free was easy, but they couldn't underestimate Snape or Dumbledore. This was their territory after all. A proper plan was still the safest way to go.
Just as he was about to discuss a few concealment spells with Andros, the door to the dormitory burst open.
Zabini and his gang of three barged in, eyes scanning the room—and lighting up with joy when they saw it was empty.
"Riddle's not here!"
"He's definitely being punished by Professor Snape. Probably in detention as we speak."
"Rubbish!" Rosier snapped. "Why would it be detention? Maybe he's been expelled!"
"Exactly." Nott nodded fervently. "Day one and already so lawless—he deserves to be expelled."
The three of them burst out laughing.
Tom chuckled too—as he exited the Study Space.
The moment he reappeared, the laughing trio suddenly floated into the air, arms bound tightly behind their backs as if tied by invisible ropes. Then—thud—they dropped hard to their knees.
Disillusionment Charm: deactivated.
Zabini, Rosier, and Nott stared at the boy who had appeared out of nowhere, their faces filled with horror.
What the hell?!
Why is he here?!
Didn't Snape take Tom away? How was he back already?!
Tom ignored their shock. He was still savoring that earlier feeling of casting.
He had used a wand this time—but no incantation. He had successfully cast a silent spell, with accuracy nearly matching his regular casting.
Andros's words about emotion and will… Tom was beginning to understand.
It was a paradoxical state, hard to balance. Too much force, and emotions spiral out of control. But restrain it too much, and the spell fails altogether.
Tom flicked his wand. The three kneeling boys were slammed by a tremendous force, sent tumbling across the room into the wall. Yet Tom just shook his head.
That didn't go as planned—he meant to hang them on the wall.
He got up and walked toward them, one step at a time.
Zabini's eyes widened in fear. He shook his head frantically, retreating as far as he could. "Y-You, stay away from me!"
All three of them saw it—Tom's wand had transformed back into that whip.
"We had a deal yesterday, didn't we?" Tom tilted his head. "You were free to take your revenge—but you'd also have to bear the cost of failure."
"Tattling to a teacher? A decent move."
The boy tsked. "Shame Professor Snape thought it was just a 'minor scuffle.' No punishment for me."
It felt like the sky collapsed onto the trio.
Snape had looked so angry this morning! Now it was just a "minor scuffle"?!
Nott's face scrunched into a pleading grimace. "Riddle, I get it now. I was wrong. Please don't hit me...?"
"Absolutely not." Tom shook his head. "None of you are getting away today."
"Now then… let's begin."