Tom had a habit: every morning when he woke up, he'd jot down his to-do list for the day on a piece of paper.
Physical training was non-negotiable. Even after getting into Hogwarts, Tom never slacked off on working out. It was his daily "morning ritual" to clear his head.
37… 38… 39… 40!
This wasn't London—Hogwarts didn't have parks or pull-up bars.
Tom had picked a sturdy-looking tree, climbed up, and started doing pull-ups.
After finishing his forty, he let go with one hand, flicked his wand, and used the Levitation Charm to gently float himself back to the ground.
"Hey! What're you doing up there?" The second his feet touched the grass, a huge shadow loomed over him.
The massive figure behind him was like a small mountain. Tom had to crane his neck to see the guy's face.
Rubeus Hagrid?
Hagrid stood with his arms crossed. "Little fella, term hasn't even started yet—how'd you get into the school?"
Tom didn't hide anything. He explained the whole story.
…
"Poor kid," Hagrid said, a flash of sympathy on his face. "But at Hogwarts, you can eat your fill without worrying. You won't freeze or go hungry here, and you get to learn magic."
"Thanks for the kind words," Tom replied. "The orphanage wasn't actually that bad.
"Sure, the blankets never covered my feet, and every meal only half-filled my stomach, but I had friends there."
The more Tom downplayed it, the sorrier Hagrid felt for him. "Little Tom, if you ever need anything, come find me in the grounds. My hut's right over there." He pointed at the small cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "I'm usually around.
"Once term starts—well—you'll make new friends. I hope Hogwarts gives you some great memories. You can head to breakfast now if you want."
"I already ate. Next stop's the library to study. Oh, Mr. Hagrid—do you know any ways to earn money around here?"
"Money—oh! You mean Galleons?" Hagrid scratched his chin. "Well, I could actually use a hand with some stuff. If you help me out, I can pay you a little something.
"Of course, if you want to earn more, you'd need Professor Sprout. She's Head of Hufflepuff and your Herbology teacher, but she's off on holiday right now. Might be a while before she's back."
Tom nodded slightly. "Got it. What would I need to do for you, Hagrid?"
Hagrid waved it off and slung an arm around Tom's shoulders. "No rush, kid. First, tell me—why do you need Galleons?"
"Potions studies cost money. Without Galleons, I can't afford the ingredients. Plus, I've got friends back at the orphanage—I want to send them some cash to make their lives a bit better."
Hagrid studied Tom for a moment, then named a time.
Every day from noon to 2:30, he'd like Tom to come help out. Pay: one gold Galleon a day—that's five pounds.
It was more than Tom had hoped for. Perfect!
Thirty Galleons a month would cover a good chunk of his ingredient costs.
"Tom, why not wait until term starts to study Potions? Professor Snape provides all the materials you'll need in class. That way you wouldn't have to—"
Hagrid broke off when Tom pulled out a notebook packed with his daily schedule.
That packed?
How many hours a day was he studying? Sixteen? No—eighteen!
"Tom, you're gonna burn yourself out. At the very least… read a storybook before bed instead of that dry Potions textbook."
Tom smiled. "That's exactly why it's perfect—it's so boring it puts me right to sleep. I'll see you at noon, Hagrid. Thanks."
With that, Tom jogged off toward the library, steps light.
"He's a good kid, right?" a gentle old voice said behind Hagrid.
"Albus?" Hagrid turned to see Dumbledore watching Tom disappear, nodding seriously. "I've never seen a wizard that hardworking. He's the first. I just asked why he's pushing so hard over the holidays, and get this—he said holidays are the best time to 'overtake on the curve.' He's only a first-year!"
A warm smile spread across Dumbledore's weathered face. "Yes, I thought long and hard before bringing him here."
"Because of his name?"
Hagrid knew what that name meant.
There'd once been someone with the exact same name—who became the most feared Dark wizard in the world.
Even now, his other name was taboo: Voldemort.
"Yes," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm not sure if this is a good thing for the boy. If the Dark Lord ever finds out there's someone at Hogwarts sharing his birth name… Tom will definitely catch his attention.
"That's how the Dark Lord is—he hated his own ordinary name so much that he invented that title for himself."
"Albus, you're worrying too much. Oh—where's the kid staying right now, anyway? The dorms aren't open yet."
"With Professor Snape. I was actually on my way to check on Severus when I saw you two talking and stopped to listen."
…
"Severus, you look awful today."
In the Potions lab, Snape was brewing something. He glanced up when Dumbledore appeared and shook his head. "I look like this every day."
"Clearly not—those bags under your eyes are worse."
"Same as always, Albus! If you're so worried about me, get that kid out of my quarters. I can't stand sharing space with anyone!"
Dumbledore considered it. "I could ask Hagrid."
"Rubeus Hagrid?" A cold smirk tugged at Snape's lips. "You want a first-year terrified by Hagrid's magical creatures?
"I can picture it: in less than a week, that annoying Tom would reek of filth—griffin feathers, billywigs, and you'd probably find fleas in his hair."
"Then… Filch?"
"Filch and his Mrs. Norris—that big yellow cat? They'd kick Tom out in a heartbeat. Filch won't let anyone come between him and his cat."
"My own rooms are an option," Dumbledore offered.
"That would be perfect," Snape said icily, glaring at him. "Just be careful not to step on our first-year when you get up in the night."
Dumbledore let it drop this time.
He'd gone through every male staff member, and Snape had shot them all down.
"So your place really is best. Thank you for putting up with it, Severus."
Snape didn't reply.
He remembered Tom from last night.
That exhausted look after studying all day couldn't fool him—even then, the boy had still pored over the Potions textbook before sleeping.
Snape shook his head, pushing the thought away.
Show-off little brat!
That's the kind of person he hated most.
Potions wasn't something you mastered just by reading a book. It required tons of practice.
Theory without hands-on work was useless!
Last night he'd finally had five free minutes, and Tom hadn't asked a single question—just kept reading. It infuriated him. Did the boy really think he'd absorbed the whole textbook already?
"Where's Tom now? Still sleeping in?"
"The library," Dumbledore said, nodding toward it in the distance. "He got up, worked out, and headed straight there this morning. You'll probably only see him at dinner."
"Hmph!" Snape flicked his robes like an oversized bat and stormed out of the lab.
"Where are you going?"
"Diagon Alley. The supplies for the first-years arrived—I'm picking them up."
…
At noon, Tom went to help Hagrid with a few chores. To his surprise, he actually gained experience!
[You successfully helped groom a griffin. Rating: Average. Care of Magical Creatures +10 experience.]
[Obtained title: Little Helper with Magical Creatures.]
[Little Helper with Magical Creatures: You naturally feel approachable to magical beasts. They won't become hostile toward you without reason.]
That evening, while eating dinner in the Great Hall, Tom got a letter from Hermione.
[Tom Riddle:
I went to the orphanage looking for you, but you'd already left. Misha told me you're at Hogwarts. How on earth did you get in during the holidays?
And you jerk—why did you run off with my money?! You scribbled notes all over my books—how am I supposed to study now? If we ever meet face-to-face, I'm going to punch you!
Finally, whatever happened to us lasted a week last time. I don't know if it'll switch again next week. I want you to write down everything that happens each day before bed so I'm not completely lost when it happens. I'm planning to tell Professor Dumbledore about this—I hope he can help us fix it.
Hermione Granger.]
"A letter from a friend? Hermione… she's a first-year too, right?" Hagrid grinned when he saw the owl deliver it. "Told you you'd make friends at Hogwarts." (Hagrid didn't peek—that would be rude.)
Friend? Right now she felt more like a creditor.
Two hundred pounds… hey, he took it, sure, but we're sharing a situation here. What's mine is yours, right…?
Tom scratched his head and changed the subject. "Hagrid, is there any kind of magic that can stop everyone in an area from casting spells—like stripping away their wand's power?"
"Nope," Hagrid said without hesitation.
If there were, they wouldn't have to fear You-Know-Who so much.
"Oh, by the way—I heard Professor Snape won't be back until tomorrow. He's away. You okay staying alone tonight? Want to crash at my place?"
"Nah, Professor Snape's quarters are close to the library. It's easier for me to get back."
Hagrid's hut was tiny—sharing it with him would feel cramped.
Plus, Tom had no idea if Hagrid snored. If he did… with that size? Terrifying!
Compared to listening to Hagrid's snores, Tom would rather be lonely in Snape's empty rooms.
"Alright, alright. So after dinner… straight back to the library?"
"Yeah. Today's tasks aren't done yet."
Tom planned to get every spell he knew to at least Level 5 before term started.
"Kid, studying alone behind closed doors won't get you far. You should find a really skilled professor—like Albus. First-years mess up the most when they practice wrong—it can set you on the wrong path forever.
Albus is usually free from afternoon until bedtime. For a eager learner like you, he definitely wouldn't say no."
Tom suddenly had a lightbulb moment.
Right!
Thanks to Professor McGonagall's tip, his spell ratings had already gone from "poor" to "average."
If the greatest wizard alive—Professor Dumbledore—coached him, he could improve even faster.
"I will. Where can I find Professor Dumbledore?"
"Hmm… I'll take you in a bit. I've got something to talk to Albus about anyway."
Hagrid shoveled down the rest of his meat, polishing off his plate.
After dinner, the two of them walked through the school grounds in the sunset until they found Dumbledore.
He was sitting with his eyes half-closed, enjoying a quiet moment alone. When he saw them coming, he opened them fully and smiled kindly—like Tom's own grandfather.
"Little Tom, Hagrid—what can I do for you two?"