After two long periods of History of Magic, Slytherin had no more classes for the afternoon.
Tom guided Ariana toward the Headmaster's office. The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance eyed him warily—though this time, at least, Tom wasn't carrying anything suspicious. The gargoyle let out a relieved sigh.
"Is Professor Dumbledore in?" Tom asked.
The gargoyle puffed up, sounding self-righteous:
"The Headmaster's schedule is top secret. I won't tell you that he came back just before lunch."
"Good enough. Step aside then." Tom nodded.
The gargoyle leapt out of the way, and the spiral staircase carried him upward. The door to the office opened on its own.
"Mr. Riddle?" Dumbledore's tone was puzzled. He hadn't expected Tom at this hour.
Tom already had a prepared excuse. "Professor, I came to ask about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The students are all curious."
Inside the study space, Ariana gazed in stunned silence at the silver-bearded old man seated behind the desk. She could hardly reconcile this calm, weary figure with the once-brilliant brother she remembered. Could this really be Albus?
But the nameplate on the desk made it plain: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, unaware that another pair of eyes was studying him from afar, smiled warmly at Tom's question. His voice was light, almost amused:
"Mr. Riddle, we've been very fortunate. A man of sufficient skill applied for the position. I personally tested him. I believe most students will find him… quite satisfactory."
"That's wonderful news." Tom nodded approvingly, playing the dutiful student. Then he pointed to the wall lined with shelves. "Professor, may I borrow a few more books?"
"Of course. Help yourself." Dumbledore gestured with an open hand.
As Tom selected a volume titled Magic That Shakes the Heavens and Earth, Dumbledore suddenly remembered something else.
"Mr. Riddle, Professor McGonagall and I recently discussed expanding your 'invisible prefect' system to all four Houses. She feels very strongly about it."
Tom turned back, surprised. "She's spoken to you about it already? I was planning to bring it up myself later."
McGonagall had indeed raised the issue last week, but in the chaos of Lockhart's suspension, the search for his replacement, and other matters, Dumbledore had forgotten.
"I recall," Dumbledore said, "that we agreed this system suits Slytherin well, but not necessarily the other Houses. The method of selection is too harsh. It risks encouraging an unhealthy obsession with power."
Tom wasn't surprised. Dumbledore always valued education of the heart over raw ability.
But Tom leaned forward, his tone steady.
"Professor, aside from prodigies like me, most people's strength isn't innate—it's earned."
It sounded arrogant, but even Dumbledore recognized that Tom's point was oddly modest. He tilted his head slightly, waiting for the boy to continue.
"The truth is, the gap between students isn't really talent. It's how hard they're willing to study. If hard work leads to results, shouldn't those results be rewarded?"
"Wait," Dumbledore interrupted. "You see the invisible prefect system as a reward? I see it as a responsibility."
"Authority is a reward," Tom replied seriously.
Dumbledore sighed. "A very Slytherin answer."
"It's simply the truth." Tom shrugged. "How many witches or wizards are capable of being Minister for Magic? Very few. But the one who holds the position enjoys all the power that comes with it. To be chosen as an invisible prefect—many students would see it as recognition. It's proof that their effort and training have paid off.
"But if we suppress capable students out of fear they might abuse power, isn't that far more unfair?"
Dumbledore fell silent, lost in thought. Tom's words had pierced his hesitation. He had been clinging to his own ideals without considering the students' needs.
The pursuit of strength was not inherently evil. Not everyone who craved power became a Voldemort. In truth, ninety-nine out of a hundred witches and wizards would never even glimpse such heights. Even if they dabbled in Dark Magic, most were too insignificant to threaten the world.
And those few who did go astray could be restrained by the laws of the Ministry.
The steady decline in the quality of Hogwarts graduates… perhaps that was the consequence of his own indulgence. Even McGonagall, usually so rule-abiding, had noticed. If nothing changed, Slytherin House might soon dominate the school completely.
Better to relax the reins slightly—and guide the students once ambition appeared.
"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore finally said, his voice thoughtful, "thank you for your perspective. I will carefully consider whether to extend the invisible prefect system to all Houses."
"How did it feel?" Tom asked silently, once they left the office.
A long pause. Then Ariana's voice came, hesitant and tinged with sorrow:
"So strange… I couldn't find even a shadow of the Albus I knew. My brother was never so calm, never so… old."
"That's natural." Tom's voice was soft, almost comforting. "His life has been full of tragedy. After your death, he broke with Grindelwald. Later, he had to defeat him with his own hands. And then he raised a student who rivaled Grindelwald in strength. For decades he's been locked in battle with the Dark Lord. He's never known peace. Of course his temperament has changed."
"Perhaps, with time, you'll glimpse the Albus you once remembered."
"…Mm." Ariana nodded slowly.
"Come on," Tom said, his tone suddenly bright. "Let's go see the… big unicorns."
He strode out of the castle, his steps light. With Daphne as practice, Tom was getting rather good at distracting young girls. Sure enough, Ariana's sorrow melted into curiosity, her attention caught by the promise of magical creatures.