— — — — — —
After that, Tom and Nicolas tracked down the remaining two vampire leaders as well, adding two more frozen statues to the collection.
Tom even summoned Ravenclaw, but it still didn't stop the curse from triggering.
The mastermind remained hidden in the fog.
"Let's go," Nicolas sighed when it became clear they wouldn't get anything more useful out of them. "Perenelle's still waiting for us."
They tossed the rest of the vampires into the blood pool, and Tom followed him back to the main building.
Madame Perenelle had weathered countless storms alongside Nicolas. What had happened today barely registered for her. When she saw Tom, she didn't even ask about the situation outside. She took his hand, said a few gentle words, then strolled upstairs for an afternoon nap, deliberately leaving the space to the two of them.
"I almost forgot," Nicolas said, turning to the boy. "Tom, how exactly are you an Obscurial?"
Tom let out a sigh. "Professor, sigh~ I'm an orphan. Grew up in a children's home. When my magic first awakened, I was terrified. And I kept getting dragged into school bullying…"
"Speak like a normal person," Nicolas cut him off flatly.
Terrified? Bullied?
Who exactly did he think he was fooling?
Nicolas simply didn't believe someone with Tom's personality had ever lived through some tragic, pitiful childhood. Dumbledore had told him before that when he went to bring Tom into the magical world, the other kids in the orphanage were so respectful they practically demoted themselves by a generation. Like groveling grandchildren.
"Fine," Tom said, spreading his hands. "I just turned into an Obscurial for no reason. Guess I'm just that gifted."
Seeing the concern in the old man's eyes, Tom raised his hand. A tightly compressed sphere of black magic appeared above his palm, spinning and warping in on itself.
"Don't worry. The Obscurus won't harm my body at all. I've completely tamed it."
"You're sure?" Nicolas still looked unconvinced.
In the end, they went down to the lab. Tom let Nicolas run a full examination. Only after confirming that the boy's body was in absurdly good condition did Nicolas finally relax.
Their conversation drifted back to the mysterious mastermind.
"I've offended too many people," Nicolas said lightly. "Some want my wealth. Some want my life. Most want everything. Even though I've always been the one who came out on top, there are always survivors. Or their descendants."
"With no clues at all," he added, "even if you asked me to guess, I wouldn't know where to start. After all, whoever is behind Lester must know me."
"Make a list," Tom said seriously. "Eliminate them one by one. We'll find the real culprit eventually."
Nicolas rolled his eyes. "If we do that, the entire magical world of continental Europe will be finished."
"Don't worry about this part," the old man said, rubbing his chin. "Let me think it through. Not many people knew I'd returned to Paris. If these vampires managed to find me, that means someone leaked the information. Whether it was intentional or not, that's the thread to pull."
Tom nodded. "Call me if you need me. I only handle the killing. Everything else, I stay out of."
He already had more than enough on his plate. And Nicolas Flamel wasn't some naïve fool. Standing in front of him, Tom was the one who counted as the innocent little boy. There was no need for him to hover and worry.
Once they found the mastermind, he'd just go over and kill them. Simple.
No matter what kind of ancient schemer was hiding in the shadows, Tom was certain of one thing: they weren't his match. Right now, he was the GOAT of the modern wizarding world.
"Killing isn't good," Nicolas reminded him. "At the very least, don't do it yourself. How many people do you think Dumbledore has personally killed? What you did to the Graves family last time was excellent. Break their limbs, destroy their wands. If you really want to wipe someone out, use poison. Use alchemy. Try not to get your own hands dirty."
Tom nodded obediently. Nicolas smiled in satisfaction and stood up.
"I wasn't planning to make another Philosopher's Stone," he said, "but after today, so many raw materials were delivered right to my door. Come on. I'll show you the process once. You might need it someday."
Tom shook his head. "Another time. When I got your distress call, I ran straight out of my exam hall. If I head back now, I can still make the afternoon practical test."
Nicolas was speechless. He waved a hand, signaling Tom to go.
With his mind still on the "Cr…" the vampires had mentioned, Tom didn't pay attention and instinctively set his Apparition destination to the castle. One step later, he appeared in a third-floor corridor.
Only then did he remember that he was a phoenix now. The school's restrictions might as well not exist for him anymore.
He'd just done something stupid again. Flying outside the school first and then Apparating had already become a reflex.
"R- Ri—Ri—Riddle?!"
Tom's sudden appearance startled the younger students in the corridor.
News of him bolting out of the exam hall had already spread through the entire castle in no time. Everyone was curious about what kind of emergency could have made him leave in such a rush.
Some people were already swearing up and down that Tom had snapped because the test was too hard.
"Mr. Riddle, Headmaster Dumbledore requests that you see him at once," a portrait on the wall spoke up as well.
Tom nodded helplessly. He glanced around, grabbed a Slytherin kid and asked him to pass a message to Professor Flitwick, then headed upstairs.
"Mr. Riddle, I'm relieved to see you've returned safely."
Dumbledore smiled and gestured for Tom to sit before continuing, "If there's anything you need me to do, please tell me. I'll do everything I can to help."
The words were gentle, but Tom understood perfectly well. Dumbledore wanted to know what had happened.
There was nothing that couldn't be said. The boy put on an obedient smile, nodded, then sighed.
"Ah… Professor, it wasn't my problem. It was Nicolas. My teacher ran into trouble just now. Hundreds of vampires attacked his manor."
Dumbledore straightened immediately. "Nicolas? Is he all right now?"
"Of course. It was just a minor issue," Tom said with a nod. "He wanted to take some of them alive to get information, so he summoned me over."
"But whoever's behind it all is very well hidden…"
Tom laid out everything he knew. When he finished, Dumbledore's expression didn't change much, but a thoughtful light flickered continuously in his eyes.
Vampires again.
That Lester had vanished for a long time. Everyone had assumed it had been forced into hiding under a false name, or had fled the continent entirely. Instead, it turned out to be working under some mysterious figure, even commanding vampires.
So who was behind it?
Grindelwald?
Impossible. The timing didn't match. Grindelwald's escape and Lester's reappearance didn't line up. And because of Newt, Grindelwald loathed all magical creatures and looked down on beings like vampires.
Voldemort?
He did have a history. Plenty of dark creatures had served him before. But Dumbledore quickly dismissed the idea.
Voldemort didn't have the mind for this. Or rather, he wouldn't do things so cleanly and airtight. He trusted his own power more. He used schemes, yes, but he wasn't truly good at them.
Then who…?
After thinking it over for a long time, Dumbledore finally settled on one name.
Agilbert Fontaine.
Lester had been a problem Frank Graves quietly shipped to Britain. And lately, aside from Grindelwald, the most active forces in the magical world were coming out of North America.
Oh, right. And the small troublemaker sitting in front of him.
At the end of the day, no matter how the blame got tossed around, it could only land on Fontaine's head.
Dumbledore didn't share his speculation with Tom. He simply said he would keep a close watch and help Nicolas track down the true culprit, then sent Tom back to finish his exam.
...
After leaving the office, Tom headed to the Charms exam room, immediately drawing a wave of curious looks. He signaled to Hermione and Daphne that they'd talk later that night. When the next student came out, he cut in line and walked straight into the classroom.
As soon as he entered, Tom apologized.
Given the scene he'd caused that morning, it wasn't hard to imagine how chaotic the exam room had been after he left. Even if there had been good reason, he considered himself a well-mannered young wizard. If you did something wrong, you owned up to it.
Professor Flitwick lived up to his reputation as one of the school's nicest people, and he was sharp as well.
He showed no anger over what had happened earlier and didn't pry into what kind of trouble Tom had run into. He only told Tom to speak up if he ever needed help.
Tom thanked him and began the practical exam.
Calling it an exam was generous. In practice, it turned into a discussion about charm theory. Lately, Flitwick had been researching large-scale applications of the Summoning Charm and had run into problems controlling the speed of flying objects.
They talked and talked, completely losing track of time. It took a full half hour before Flitwick realized they were still in the middle of an exam and hurried Tom out to call in the next student.
Rushing to keep things on schedule, they finally wrapped up the afternoon testing just before dinner.
Tom went straight to the Room of Requirement with all the girls. As they ate, he told them about what had happened to Nicolas.
.
.
.