— — — — — —
Tom shot out of the house in a rush, floating high in the air as he stared down at the chaos below with clear amusement.
The Gringotts headquarters was blazing. The grand building that had looked so dignified during the day now had several gaping holes blown into its roof.
Five different breeds of fire dragons rampaged through the city. Their bodies were covered in wounds, and broken shackles still clung to their limbs. The chains that once restrained them had become weapons instead. With just a swing they tore through stone and steel.
British Gringotts only kept one dragon for guard duty. This place had five. The difference in importance between the two branches couldn't have been clearer.
Wizards on broomsticks kept swooping in, hurling spells that fell on the dragons like a meteor shower.
Tom figured it was selfish to enjoy the spectacle alone, so he flew back, bundled Hermione up tightly, and carried her out so they could watch the "meteor shower" together.
"Why did the dragons suddenly go crazy?" Hermione asked, baffled. "And doesn't Gringotts have countermeasures? It looks like they can't do anything to stop them."
"I thought ten trained wizards were enough to subdue a fire dragon. Their enforcement unit should be more elite than that, right?"
The dragons' rampage only grew fiercer. Between broom-riders and ground forces, the number of wizards involved had already passed fifty and was closing in on a hundred. Yet instead of containing the dragons, the battlefield kept expanding. Half the headquarters was collapsed already, and nearby buildings were taking hits too.
"Because the dragons are magically influenced," Tom replied. "Ten trained wizards can take down a normal fire dragon. These aren't normal."
He jerked his chin toward the scene. "Look at their eyes. A normal fire dragon has yellow slit pupils. What do you see now?"
"Red!"
With that hint, Hermione immediately noticed the flaw and formed her own theory. "So they didn't go wild on their own. Someone cursed them… Maybe that same thief who stole from Gringotts?"
"Very possible."
It was too far for Tom to glean more details with just his eyes, but affecting a dragon's mind like this—forcing them into suicidal, mindless destruction—was definitely the work of a master.
Could it be him?
Tom already had a name in mind.
"Mr. Riddle! Mr. Riddle!"
A strained voice yelled from the ground. It was the goblin executive who had received him yesterday, Noby.
Noby shouted, "Mr. Riddle, I beg you to subdue those five dragons! Gringotts will absolutely offer compensation!"
Tom descended with Hermione in tow. "And this involves me how?"
"It doesn't, it doesn't at all," Noby said, sweating bullets. "This morning's search was conducted by subordinates who suspected you without authorization. Gringotts does not believe you stole the treasure. Please, if this continues the entire market will be destroyed!"
"Three conditions." Tom raised three fingers.
"One: tell me what was stolen today."
"Two: I want one hundred of those balance scales your enforcement teams use."
"Three: those five dragons belong to me."
Noby agreed to the first two without hesitation, but the third one made him freeze.
Five dragons. A single adult fire dragon was worth at least a hundred thousand Galleons. Five meant half a million.
Was Riddle making money or committing daylight robbery?
"I agree, Mr. Riddle." An older goblin flew over on a broom, voice gravelly with age. "But you must prevent further destruction. If the buildings take more damage or the battlefield expands, the dragons remain the property of Gringotts."
Tom smiled. "Finally, someone sensible. Fine, I'll take your terms."
He grabbed Hermione's hand, took a single step, and in the next instant the two of them appeared mid-air above the battlefield. A dragon was already roaring near them.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Tom's body burst with blinding white light. In seconds, a towering thirty-meter titan of pure magical light formed around him. Before the dragon could react, the giant slammed a fist downward.
Boom!
The fire-breathing beast rolled its eyes and fainted on the spot.
The other four dragons went berserk at the sight, charging in without hesitation. Tom, meanwhile, summoned Hakuna Matata. The Patronus titan surged in size again, growing fifty percent larger. Two extra heads and four additional arms erupted from its colossal frame, and dense runes crawled across its surface like living ink.
"Dear lord…"
Wizards on the scene looked like they were witnessing a god descend. The sheer pressure of the thing nearly suffocated them.
Even the four charging fire dragons skidded to a halt. Hermione saw a flash of confusion flicker through their blood-red eyes.
The Patronus giant didn't pause. Four arms shot out, each hand clamping onto the neck of a fire dragon. No matter how the dragons thrashed and writhed, the grip didn't loosen an inch. Instead it only tightened, then whipped the dragons around and smashed them together in pairs.
Two heavy crashes rang out, followed by the crack of snapping bones. The fire dragons screamed and collapsed, following the first one into blissful unconsciousness.
Like tossing out the trash, the Patronus flung them aside and then vanished.
Tom drifted down to the ground with Hermione in tow. From the moment they struck their deal to now, the whole thing hadn't even taken thirty seconds.
The fire dragons that the enforcers had been tearing their hair out over, terrified to approach, were now sleeping peacefully like oversized pets.
The contrast was so extreme that the enforcement team just stared blankly, completely at a loss for what to do.
"Gulp—"
The old goblin who had just agreed to Tom's terms swallowed hard. A moment ago he'd been wondering if he could weasel out of the deal, but now… well, goblins were the most honest merchants in the world. A deal was a deal.
Five fire dragons, all belonging to Riddle now.
With a fresh understanding of Tom's combat ability, the goblins immediately restrained their petty schemes. Unlike their ancestors, modern goblins knew how to pick their battles. They understood who could be provoked and who absolutely couldn't.
Their ancestors had been suicidal idiots—trying to scheme for Gryffindor's sword.
The craftsman who forged the blade, King Ragnuk the First, regretted handing it over the moment he did. In the end, he sent his subjects to steal it back, only to be intercepted by Gryffindor, the most skilled duellist in his time.
Gryffindor then bewitched the goblins, sending them back to Ragnuk with a warning: if he ever tried such a thing again, he, Godric Gryffindor, would use the sword to kill him and all his subjects. Only then did the matter come to an end.
One man threatening an entire kingdom—goblins remembered that incident as shame and a warning: never provoke those you cannot afford to provoke.
"Mr. Riddle, you are…?"
When the goblins flew closer, they found the boy kneeling beside the unconscious dragons, muttering incantations with his wand pressed to their scales.
Tom didn't acknowledge them, and they were too scared to interrupt.
Only when wisps of black smoke drifted out of the dragons' bodies did Tom finally snap out of his focused trance.
"Just so we're clear, I don't care what you lost. If I find it, it's mine."
The goblins hadn't even processed what he meant when they saw him pull out his little pocket-world wallet, enlarge it, stuff all five fire dragons inside, and then toss Hermione in after them.
Then Tom shot into the sky, racing in a single direction.
Noby's face went pale. "Not good. Riddle just found the thief's location!"
"WHAT?!"
---
Egypt's Sahara Desert
Night in the Sahara was terrifyingly silent. Beyond the endless yellow dunes, there were only tiny oases scattered dozens, even hundreds of kilometers apart.
Even with modern technology, almost no one chose to cross this human-forbidden zone at night.
A cloud of black mist streaked across the desert like a ghost, silent and swift. It left only the faintest track in the sand, quickly swallowed again by the wind.
Crack—
From the heavy, brooding sky, lightning crashed without warning and speared toward the black mist.
The first bolt missed, but then came a second, then a third. Soon lightning poured down like rain.
"Damn it!"
The dark mist was forced to a halt. A low, furious voice echoed out as a silver shield snapped into place. Cracks spread visibly across it with every impact.
Unable to stand it any longer, the figure blew the mist apart, revealing a small, stunted creature with an enormous head.
His bald skull bulged with blue veins, crisscrossing like layers of snake scales pressed beneath the skin.
He raised his wand and fired a brilliant flash of green light into the sky. The thunderclouds twisted sickly green, then broke apart, scattering the storm in all directions.
Tom dropped from above and landed ten meters away, looking down at him without bothering to hide the disgust in his eyes.
The big-headed creature stared back, his narrow pupils filled with murderous rage. His grip tightened around his wand.
"Tom Riddle!"
Tom smiled lightly.
"Oh, so that's who it was. I was wondering who had the guts to rob Gringotts twice in a row and actually get away with it. Turns out it was you, little Voldy."
"We've barely been apart and you're already looking like this? What a downgrade."
.
.
.