— — — — — —
"I know it sounds unbelievable. Honestly, I'm not even that confident myself," Ravenclaw said. "But that's the point of experimenting, isn't it? Failure doesn't matter. As long as there's even a hint of success, it means my line of thinking is right."
She was about to continue when the time limit on the full-body control ran out. Tom regained control, and without Ravenclaw's will anchoring it, the intent withdrawn from the diadem. Voldemort's soul fragment zipped straight back into its old nest.
"Hey, wait…" Back in the study space, Ravenclaw looked thoroughly dissatisfied. "Why are you done so fast? I barely started."
Tom's face darkened. "Watch your phrasing. That talent only lasts half an hour. What do you expect me to do about it?"
"Tch. Sounds like a 'you' problem. Too quick," she shot back. "There's no shame in admitting your shortcomings."
Tom wished he could beat her. His motivation to become a legendary wizard peaked at that moment.
But Ravenclaw in full research mode was like this. Far more irritable than usual, with her patience worn thin. Maybe this was her true personality, and the gentle, big-sister act she put on normally was just that, an act.
"Next time, just chain it at midnight," Tom said, half like he was soothing a restless child, as Ravenclaw started bouncing her leg. "That'll give us more time. A full hour."
"Still not enough." She shook her head. "It's too short to waste on separating Horcruxes. You need to learn the method I just used."
"That part's easy. But do you really think your Confundus Charm is enough?"
Tom was still skeptical of Ravenclaw's idea and didn't want her wasting effort on something shaky.
Left with no choice, Ravenclaw laid out her plan in full.
"The Confundus Charm is only the first step. Its purpose is to lower the soul's activity, or more precisely, its will to resist."
"The second step is the real key." Her lips curled into a faint smile. "I once learned a spell Salazar created himself. It allows you to assimilate another person's flesh and blood into your own."
Tom broke out in goosebumps. "Why would Slytherin invent something like that?"
"Why do you think? That lunatic was even worse than I am when it came to experiments. Everything he did was in service of himself. For better results, his own flesh and blood were part of the materials."
"For example, the basilisk you killed. I'd bet good money it was fused with Slytherin's flesh. Otherwise, why would it only obey his descendants? There's no other explanation."
Tom's fragile little worldview took a heavy hit. These legendary wizards really were something else. Ravenclaw stole memories, Slytherin stole flesh. What about the other two?
Was being deranged and obsessive the first requirement for becoming a legend?
At the same time, he understood Ravenclaw's idea. If flesh could be assimilated, why not souls? It would be harder, sure, but magic existed to make miracles happen.
"Take it slow," Tom warned. "Don't experiment on yourself. If you have ideas, tell me first."
Ravenclaw sighed. When it came to souls, even this strange space couldn't help much. It almost made her miss being alive.
If she could move freely in the outside world like Grindelwald, her progress would be so much faster.
For now, all she could do was refine the theory and let Tom handle the practical work where needed.
Even so, this project ranked low on the priority list.
Resurrection magic, removing the blood curse, and opening the gate to the Tenth Trial as soon as possible came first.
---
May flew by in the blink of an eye. Before anyone really noticed, Tom's third year was already coming to an end.
As usual, the third-year Slytherins and Gryffindors filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Many of them looked exhausted. The mountain of homework and revision had left the students miserable.
The pressure they were under was far worse than in past exams.
Better communication had its downsides. Professors and parents could now talk far more easily and far more often. Skip homework today, and a Howler from home might arrive tomorrow.
If their grades suffered because they hadn't revised hard enough, what awaited them would be a whole summer of misery.
Some especially "filial" students had already started envying Tom and Harry.
Orphans… yeah. Being an orphan had its perks.
...
Before the class bell rang, Lupin walked into the classroom, as usual carrying his battered little suitcase. He didn't look great, but the students were used to that by now.
This professor was good in every way except that he was poor and physically frail.
Still, unlike Lockhart last term, he counted as competent. Compared to Quirrell and the string of teachers before him, he was downright excellent.
Lupin gave everyone a gentle smile. He seemed to be in a pretty good mood today.
"This is the last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the school year," he said. "Today, we'll be covering… werewolves."
"Professor, Professor Snape already taught that when you were on leave!" Lavender Brown called out. "And he even docked us ten points!"
Lupin didn't mind at all. He kept smiling. "On this topic, I do have a few insights of my own that Severus lacks. Thank you for the reminder, Miss Brown. Ten points to Gryffindor."
Lavender shut up at once, beaming.
Lupin took out a scroll from his case and hung it on the blackboard. It showed a werewolf after transformation, standing upright on two legs.
"A werewolf is a disease," Lupin said. "A curse."
His voice dropped, turning bleak. "On the night of the full moon, they transform into creatures that lose all reason. Werewolves are both perpetrators and victims."
"It's very difficult to tell whether a wizard is a werewolf, but if you pay close attention, there are always signs."
"For instance, they tend to have thicker body hair than average, large palms with unusually thin fingers, and fingernails that are far paler than normal."
As he spoke, Lupin lifted his own hand, inviting the class to look closely.
"They fear the moon. Not just the real one. Even a moon created by a Boggart or other magical transformations can affect them."
"Although the Wolfsbane Potion exists and can help a werewolf retain their mind after transforming, it's extremely expensive and must be taken for seven consecutive days. Each day leaves the drinker weaker than the last. So if you ever notice someone who takes leave on a very regular schedule, you should be cautious…"
This near self-exposé left Hermione staring in shock. She'd already gotten confirmation from Tom and had worried about it before, but Tom's reassurance and Dumbledore's trust had led her to believe in Lupin anyway.
Not far away, Harry looked just as stunned.
He knew Lupin's true identity too, but he couldn't understand what Lupin was doing. Had Dumbledore paid him too little? Was he quitting on purpose?
As Lupin continued his almost exhaustive analysis of werewolves, some of the sharper students began recalling his regular pattern of absences over the past year. Their expressions changed completely.
Of course, that didn't include Ron or Neville. Those two were still hunched over their notes, heads down, convinced this was prime exam material.
It wasn't until class ended and Lupin left the room that Malfoy's cold laugh snapped them back to reality.
"Dumbledore really is something," he sneered. "Letting a werewolf stay in the castle for a whole year."
Before long, the news that Lupin was a werewolf spread through the school. Some reacted with fear, others with calm.
Clever students like Hermione had already figured it out long ago. Hogwarts already had more than enough oddballs. One more werewolf didn't seem like a big deal, so an unspoken agreement had kept it quiet.
But once everyone knew, Lupin had already submitted his resignation and disappeared from the castle.
Dumbledore tried to persuade him to stay, but Lupin had made up his mind.
"Professor, Sirius has been urging me for a while now," Lupin said with a smile in the headmaster's office before leaving. "He needs a steady partner for his missions. And it's not fair to make the other professors cover for me every month when they're already so busy."
"Now that my identity is public, even if the students could accept it, their parents wouldn't."
Dumbledore let out a soft sigh. "If you've decided, then all I can do is wish you good luck, Remus."
"Thank you. I hope you find an even better Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. If you really can't find anyone, I recommend Severus to take over my position."
With that, Lupin departed lightly.
Dumbledore could only smile wryly. He'd heard something very similar last year too. That time, it had been Tom making the recommendation, hadn't it?
One by one, they all seemed determined to make Snape miserable.
---
Back in the dormitory, Tom lay on his bed, looking as though he were asleep. In truth, all of his consciousness had plunged into the system space.
His mental power and will condensed into an invisible hammer, slamming again and again into the gate of the tenth palace.
Every impact made stars burst in his vision.
After months of effort, the gap in the door had grown wider and wider. Unlike the golden light of the earlier palaces, the tenth leaked a cold, pale glow.
Tom had started treating this palace like a sleep aid. Whenever he couldn't fall asleep, he'd come here and bash at it a few times. Guaranteed knock-out, straight through to morning.
Now that success was finally within reach, he had no intention of delaying any longer. Fighting off the urge to black out, he turned the last of his mental strength into a cannonball and fired it forward.
Creak~
The door swung past its critical point and, carried by its own momentum, flew fully open.
A flood of information poured into the boy's mind, but Tom didn't have the energy to care anymore.
All he wanted was a long, deep sleep.
.
.
.