"Finally heading to Hogwarts? I've been waiting for this day for a long time."
The one who said this wasn't Tom—but Andros.
Over this period, Andros had learned quite a bit about the development of the modern wizarding world and its major historical events. By now, he could be considered half a qualified modern wizard.
Among all of it, what impressed him the most were the four founders of Hogwarts. He often sighed with regret that he hadn't lived in the same era as those four outstanding figures.
If asked to precisely rank their strength, Andros couldn't do it—but he was certain of one thing: at the very least, they were on the same level as himself.
Kings of the Century.
Tom had also once asked Andros to evaluate his own talent, but the answer he received was vague.
There was no doubt that Tom's talent was excellent—easily meeting the standard of a Generation Prodigy.
But the gap between a Generation Prodigy and a King of the Century was enormous. Judging from the simple spells Tom had learned so far, even Andros couldn't make an accurate assessment.
Perhaps Tom was the late-blooming type?
In truth, that already conveyed Andros's real opinion—Tom was still a bit short, hovering somewhere between the two levels.
Tom wasn't discouraged by this in the slightest.
His talent wasn't fixed. Hadn't he already obtained Andros's magic affinity? In the future, he would gain more and stronger talents. There was no need to rush.
Glancing at the system panel, Tom noted that his relationship with Andros had grown steadily closer over the past few days. The recognition level had reached 46%—just a bit more and it would hit 50%, unlocking another reward.
What shocked Tom the most, however, was that Andros had another name—
Heracles.
When Tom first learned this, he thought he'd misheard.
But it was true.
To the ignorant people of ancient times, powerful wizards were no different from gods. Their deeds were passed down, reshaped through art and legend, and eventually became mythology.
After reading later generations' Greek myths, Andros repeatedly emphasized one thing:
He did not have a father who liked turning into bulls or swans.
Both of his parents were ordinary wizards. It was only his own generation that produced a freakish genius.
"Tom, you can start learning the Patronus Charm now."
Andros patted the boy on the shoulder, eager to pass on his signature spell.
There was no doubt—the Patronus Charm was an advanced spell. It demanded immense magical power, and even more from one's will and mental state.
Tom's mindset was already far beyond that of his peers—he'd passed that threshold long ago.
As for magical power? After acquiring Andros's magical talent, that was no longer a concern.
"I've been looking forward to it too, Andros."
A giant-sized Patronus—Tom had been coveting that for a long time.
"Let me demonstrate first."
Andros stepped back, raised his wand high.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Silvery-white mist surged from the wand tip, weaving together into an enormous Patronus.
Tom's eyes widened in shock.
"This… is a Patronus?!"
The towering figure before him exceeded ten meters in height. But what stunned Tom even more was this—
Andros's Patronus was himself.
"Hahahahaha!"
Andros laughed heartily, clearly satisfied with Tom's reaction.
"Surprised? Normally, Patronuses take animal forms, reflecting the caster's personality and inner nature."
"But I believe that the only thing capable of truly protecting oneself… is one's own strength and conviction."
"Perhaps that's why my Patronus turned out this way. After continuous development, I've also expanded its applications—it has an exceptionally strong suppressive effect against dark forces."
With a confident grin, Andros continued:
"Tom, if you train according to the method I teach you, there's a very high chance you'll awaken a true-body Patronus as well. Well? Tempted?"
Tom nodded fiercely.
How could anyone stay calm?
Compared to otters, swans, or stags, a humanoid Patronus was infinitely cooler!
And if he could reach Andros's size—
That would basically be piloting a Gundam.
Tom's enthusiasm for learning exploded completely. He stayed in the learning space until just before departure the next morning, leaving reluctantly. He hastily ate two pieces of bread, grabbed his suitcase, and headed for King's Cross Station.
The suitcase didn't look large, but it had already been enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm.
The spell was genuinely difficult. Tom had spent two full days barely mastering it, expanding the interior volume to three times its original size. Any more than that, and the space would become unstable.
The expansion wasn't permanent either—it needed to be reapplied roughly once a month. Still, for now, it was more than enough.
As for the fact that privately using the Undetectable Extension Charm violated Ministry law—
Tom couldn't care less.
He was just a first-year newbie. How could he possibly know such advanced magic?
Clearly, someone must have framed him by casting that spell on his suitcase.
10:00 a.m.
Tom arrived at King's Cross Station.
As one of London's most important transportation hubs, it was packed with people. The name "King's Cross" commemorated George IV—a king whose reputation could hardly be called benevolent.
In fact, he was widely regarded as utterly incompetent.
Even his closest attendants despised him, once remarking:
No dog is more despicable, cowardly, or callous than this king.
Good monarchs might be rare—but he was certainly among the worst.
Tom couldn't understand why such a ruler deserved remembrance. Yet aside from King's Cross Station, there were numerous statues of George IV scattered across Britain.
Following the crowd, Tom walked to the space between Platform Nine and Platform Ten, casually bumping into the solid wall.
A new world unfolded.
A deep-red steam locomotive stood beside a platform packed with travelers. Hanging from the train was a sign:
—Hogwarts Express—
One wall apart, two entirely different worlds.
Tom took a deep breath, stepped onto the train, and began the magical journey of yet another Tom Riddle.