Lady Greengrass smiled back at Tom, though her gaze soon shifted helplessly to her two daughters, who were still glued to his side.
"Have you girls forgotten your own mother? You spend every day with Tom, and even now you can't leave him alone."
"Mum, of course I missed you~" Daphne giggled, skipping over to cling to her mother's arm, her voice syrupy sweet. "I'm starving, let's go home and eat already."
Lady Greengrass tapped her on the forehead with fond exasperation, then turned her eyes back to Tom.
"I'm sorry, Aunt," Tom said with a polite shake of his head. "I've already promised Hermione I'd see her family today. I'll come to the manor later this evening."
Lady Greengrass nodded gently. "I'll be waiting. There are some matters I need to discuss with you."
After parting ways, Tom walked out of the station with Hermione, and before long they spotted the Grangers.
It had become something of a ritual—unless there was some special circumstance, Tom would always escort Hermione back to her parents whenever school let out.
He understood perfectly well how they felt. They had sent their daughter into a world they did not understand, hoping she would thrive, yet plagued by powerlessness. Their status, their wealth, even their life experience meant nothing in the wizarding world. They could not comprehend what Hermione faced each day, and that helplessness became a constant, gnawing worry.
That was why Mr. Granger had thrown himself so wholeheartedly into helping Tom renovate his new home. It wasn't about bricks and mortar—it was his way of making sure someone trustworthy would look after his daughter at Hogwarts.
So when the couple saw Tom and Hermione arrive hand-in-hand, their faces lit up with bright smiles. They took the pair to a fine restaurant they had already booked in advance.
After dinner, Tom accompanied Hermione home for a while, politely refusing Mr. Granger's invitation to stay longer, before finally setting off for the Greengrass manor.
In the familiar study, Lady Greengrass poured Tom a cup of tea.
"Let's take things one at a time," she said. "First, some good news. Amelia Bones asked me to inquire—aside from your anti-baldness bracelets, do you have any alchemical devices that might enhance Auror safety? The Ministry is looking to make a purchase."
Tom considered. "The Ministry must already have stable alchemical partners. Simple items like that shouldn't be beyond them. Why approach me?"
"Cost," Lady Greengrass replied succinctly. "Bones' greatest concern is controlling expenses—while still ensuring quality, of course."
"What's the target price?" Tom asked.
"She didn't say," Lady Greengrass admitted. "But by my estimate, they'll want it within twenty Galleons apiece. Cornelius Fudge… well, you know what he's like."
"I'll think on it," Tom said calmly. He had no interest in chasing low-margin trade. But if Lady Greengrass had brought it to him, it meant she wanted him to accept.
"Amelia Bones has a promising future," Lady Greengrass explained. "She already holds enormous authority despite her age. When Fudge steps down, she could very well be the next Minister. Compared to Scrimgeour, she is far more respected within the Ministry.
Consider this an investment in advance. Of course, if it troubles you, forget it. I could even provide you with private compensation."
"That won't be necessary, Aunt," Tom replied firmly. "This is a trivial matter. For your sake, I wouldn't refuse regardless. The only question is how much profit, not whether I'll lose."
"Good." Lady Greengrass smiled warmly, then set her cup down. "Now that the good news is out of the way—it's time for the bad. Parkinson, Macmillan, Travers, and several other families came to me. Their words were… less than polite."
"There's no need to respond," Tom said lightly, lowering his own cup. "Give me a list of names. When the time is right, I'll pay each of them a visit."
"Tom, you mustn't underestimate them," Lady Greengrass warned. "Apart from the Macmillans, the others consort openly with Dark wizards—and those rats in the sewers wield many strange and subtle methods. Wizards are still only human. Some curses kill silently."
"My concern has never been them," Tom said quietly, his eyes lifting toward the distant Scottish Highlands. "It's Dumbledore. Before I left the castle, he urged me to keep my restraint. And I gave him my word."
"I won't move against these families first. That is my respect for him."
Respecting strength was one of Tom's principles. But one day, when his own power surpassed Dumbledore's, it would be the old man's turn to show him respect. That was not a contradiction—it was simply the way of the world.
"That old man truly is troublesome," Lady Greengrass murmured, following Tom's gaze. "But perhaps that's for the best. Imagine if there were two lords of equal power, standing on opposite sides. For the pure-bloods, their comfortable days would truly end."
She changed the subject. "In a few days, there will be a gathering. Do you wish to attend? The Rosiers and Notts are warming to you—they could be courted."
"If I have time, I'd rather spend it on something I actually enjoy," Tom replied with a shake of his head. "My new home is finished, but I've yet to see it. With some time before I leave for France, I'd prefer to make a few modifications."
Lady Greengrass did not press him further, though she did insist on one point—Tom would have to accompany her to Amelia Bones' home in the coming days. Certain matters required his presence in person, not her as a proxy.
This time, Tom did not refuse.
The following morning, Tom brought Daphne and Astoria first to Hermione's house. From there, the group set out together to see his new home.