Tom didn't have any cheat codes to rely on, but perhaps due to his reincarnation, his memory—while not photographic—was far superior to the average person's. Coupled with an extraordinary capacity for learning, he quickly set himself apart.
Don't assume that only students in the East have academic competitions—British schools are just as competitive.
By entering various contests, earning prize money, receiving school stipends and government allowances, and even appearing on television for a small fee, Tom had managed to save up a respectable amount of money.
The cash in his drawer was only his day-to-day pocket money. He had £40,000 sitting quietly in a bank account, collecting interest.
When Dumbledore learned of Tom's talents and initiative, he had no choice but to give him a sincere thumbs-up in admiration.
After bidding farewell to Mrs. Arman, Tom followed Dumbledore out of the orphanage.
If it had been any other child, Arman would never have let them go so easily. But Tom's maturity and capability had earned her trust over the years.
Or perhaps… Dumbledore had subtly cast a charm to ease her worries?
As they strolled down the tree-lined path, Dumbledore didn't use any magical shortcuts to save time. On the contrary, he seemed to be in high spirits, walking alongside Tom toward the train station, chatting like a kindly grandfather doting on a clever grandchild.
Tom didn't hide anything. He answered Dumbledore's questions with calm honesty.
He was an abandoned orphan—his appearance in this world an accident of fate. His parents had left him only a name and a surname as a birthright before dropping him at the steps of the orphanage.
The next time he heard of them was in the news—an airline crash.
There was no inheritance. In fact, they'd left behind a mountain of debt. Fortunately, none of it had to be paid by him.
Dumbledore's lips twitched at the story.
Such things were, sadly, not uncommon in the Muggle world. A couple has an unexpected pregnancy. With strict abortion laws, they go through with it, only to realize they can't raise a child—so they hand the baby over to the government and walk away, living carefree lives.
Little do they know that the wizarding world in England is on the brink of a generational collapse. The Weasleys are the rare exception—six boys and a girl, standing tall as a beacon of abundance. Every pure-blood family envies them with bloodshot eyes.
How many wizards regretted not marrying Molly Prewett when they had the chance? If they had, perhaps their family name would be the one thriving today.
Different lives under the same sky.
"I noticed that the other kids at the orphanage seem rather... afraid of you?" Dumbledore mused aloud, dragging himself out of his thoughts.
Even when they'd left the building, little Seth had still been obediently pounding away at the punching bag—clearly following Tom's orders. The image stirred certain unpleasant memories in Dumbledore.
"Professor," Tom stopped walking and looked up at Dumbledore. The old man's beard made it hard to see his face clearly, but Tom could still meet his deep-set eyes.
"Do you know what an orphan fears most?"
Dumbledore gave him his full attention.
"It's the fear of being seen as weak," Tom said calmly.
"If people sense you're easy to bully, someone will try. They'll pick at your weaknesses, just for the thrill of dominating you."
"And the best way to stop a bully…" Tom paused, his voice colder now, "is to arm yourself—and bully them first."
Dumbledore's eyes widened, and even his beard gave a slight tremble.
"Of course, I'm not bullying Seth," Tom added quickly. "He's my friend. I'm just teaching him how to defend himself. He'll be starting secondary school soon—he needs to be able to protect himself."
"He'll understand your intentions," Dumbledore said softly. He recalled Seth's strained but determined face as he followed Tom's training, and the tension in his heart lightened a little. With a chuckle, he added,
"I daresay you might be a fine Hufflepuff one day—so long as you don't make bullying a habit."
"Hufflepuff? What's that?"
"One of the four Hogwarts Houses. Each one is exceptional in its own way…"
As they continued down the elm-lined street, the shadows they cast grew longer, slowly swallowed up by the golden light of the afternoon.
...
After a train ride and a change to the Underground, they finally arrived at the entrance to Diagon Alley—a dingy, tattered old pub called the Leaky Cauldron.
It was three in the afternoon, not exactly peak hours. Only two or three tables were occupied.
But the moment they spotted Dumbledore, the atmosphere shifted. Wizards who had been chatting over drinks jumped to their feet to greet him respectfully. Even the hunched, rag-wielding bartender came scurrying over, grinning from ear to ear.
"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore!"
"Good afternoon, Tom—oh wait, we have another Tom here, don't we?" Dumbledore said with a warm chuckle, gesturing between the two. "Tom, this is Mr. Riddle—funny coincidence, isn't it? Tom, this gentleman is another Tom, a first-year Hogwarts student. I'm here to help him shop for school supplies."
"Well, what a twist of fate!" the bar owner Tom said heartily. "Delighted to meet you, young Tom."
While there were thousands of Toms in Britain, few carried the presence of Dumbledore's companion. In the old wizard's company, the bartender practically glowed with hospitality.
"Once you're done shopping, why don't you come back for a drink on the house? A nice, non-alcoholic butterbeer, of course!"
"Splendid idea," Dumbledore agreed. "Let's get what we need done. See you in a bit, Tom."
"Until then, Professor Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore led young Tom through the bar and out to a tiny courtyard at the back. There, he took out a wand with knotted joints like ancient bones and began to demonstrate how to enter Diagon Alley.
"Three bricks up, two across…"
With a few taps of his wand, the bricks began to shift and slide, unfolding like a puzzle to reveal a tall, arching gateway. A sudden burst of noise and chatter spilled into the courtyard.
Tom's eyes lit up at the sight of the bustling crowd inside.
"The wizarding world…" he breathed.
"Yes," Dumbledore said with a fond smile. "Welcome to the wizarding world." For the first time, he saw the childlike wonder that belonged to a boy of Tom's age—and it warmed his heart.
"Come now," he added. "There's something very important we must sort out first… money."
They crossed the lively street together and arrived at the steps of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Dumbledore was so well-known that the short walk down the alley had become a parade of greetings and handshakes.
At the grand doors of Gringotts, two goblins bowed respectfully. One of them became their personal guide and led them inside to the exchange desk.