— — — — — —
Hogwarts Express rolled out right at 11 AM.
Tom used an extension charm in the compartment so everyone would sit comfortably.
Daphne immediately piled the table high with snacks.
And with Ginny added in, the two girls became chipmunks on a feeding frenzy, barely stopping to breathe.
"Hmm.... who wants to travel?" Tom asked.
"Travel?" Ginny blinked at him. "Where?"
"Anywhere," Tom said, perking up. "Barcelona, Amsterdam, Constantinople, or farther. Cairo wouldn't be bad either."
"Tom, do you even have time? Won't it mess with your schedule?"
The girls definitely wanted a trip, but they also knew how busy Tom was. Ever since break started, he'd barely spent a few days in Britain.
Tom shrugged. "I'm giving myself a month off starting tomorrow. No studying, no missions, no handling outside affairs."
"We'd have about a week for traveling. Does anyone have a place they want to go?"
"Egypt then," Hermione answered without hesitation, her face lighting up. "I've always wanted to see the pyramids. I heard the original Gringotts headquarters was inside one, with tons of ancient magical artifacts."
"Okay. Pyramids it is." Tom glanced at the other girls to see who else was going, but strangely, none of them reacted. Only Ginny looked tense at the mention of Egypt, so she stuffed even more food into her mouth.
After a few seconds, Penelope smiled warmly. "I hope you two have a happy trip."
She had already planned a trip with Tom to Italy in early July, so she felt this was Hermione's date. The other girls probably had their own private trips with him too.
...
For the first month of vacation, Tom was ready to fully slack off.
No trials, no system quests. Just one priority: relax and enjoy life.
Of course, that was only him resting. His mind avatar had no such rights, so research progress wouldn't really slow down.
---
The train crossed Hadrian's Wall, leaving the Scottish Highlands for England. Daphne and Ginny finally ate their fill and switched topics to that year's Quidditch World Cup.
"If anyone needs tickets, ask me," Daphne announced proudly, thumping her chest. "Friends too. Front row seats or private box, as many as you want."
"This... My dad should be able to get some too, right?" Ginny said, not fully convinced.
The Ministry always gave employees tickets as perks, but she had no idea how many Arthur Weasley would get. Aside from Percy the oddball, her whole family were Quidditch fanatics.
"Luna, you watching the Cup?" Tom asked the girl by the window. She'd been reading The Quibbler since they boarded. She nodded once, then shook her head.
Ginny translated instantly, "She means either way is fine, but it depends on Mr. Lovegood."
Everyone stared. How did Ginny read that from two tiny gestures?
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
Tom raised a brow. He checked who it was, flicked his palm, and the locked compartment door opened a crack.
"Percy?" Ginny blinked. Her brother, Percy Weasley, stood at the door looking nervous.
"Ginny—uh…" Percy shifted awkwardly. "Tom, could I talk to you?"
"Sure." Tom stood up, stepped out, and pulled the door closed behind him.
The corridor was empty. The Trolley Witch had just passed, but Percy still led Tom over to the connector between carriages.
"Can we talk now?"
Tom tried to recall if he'd ever interacted with Percy. Apart from Percy thanking him back when Ginny's Chamber of Secrets incident came to light, they'd barely spoken.
"Tom… I want to ask for your help." Percy took a deep breath, as if making up his mind. "I overheard a few professors saying you have a lot of influence at the Ministry, and that if anyone could help me get a position there, it'd be you."
He looked up with a tense, worried expression.
Tom gave a noncommittal nod. "More or less."
Percy continued, "I'm confident my marks are enough to get me into the Ministry, but I won't have any control over where I'm assigned after that…"
Tom understood instantly. "So you want me to help you land the position you want?"
"Yes." Percy nodded again.
Asking a student several years younger than him for help was already humiliating, and asking for political favors on top of that definitely explained the awkward look he'd worn earlier.
"I'll help you for Ginny's sake."
Tom said it casually, and Percy's eyes lit up. "Do you have a particular department in mind? Think it through before you decide. Don't come back asking me to redo it."
"I won't, I promise," Percy said quickly. "Once is more than enough. I want to go to either the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Ideally as an assistant to the Head of Department. There's a lot to learn in those positions."
"Then Co-operation it is," Tom decided for him, and Percy almost burst with excitement. "Crouch happens to be missing a hardworking and… enthusiastic senior assistant."
"Write a letter for him saying you admire him and want to work under him. Send it to me and I'll forward it for you."
In the original timeline, Percy did work under Crouch for thirteen months, but not as an assistant. After all, most new recruits got the intern version—the kind of position Crouch couldn't even remember the name of.
And this was Crouch, a man who could speak a hundred languages and remembered every detail. The fact that he forgot Percy entirely said all you needed to know about Percy's status at the time.
An assistant was different. That was a real secretary.
After profuse thanks, Tom went back to the compartment. The moment he walked in, Ginny blurted, "What did he want?"
"Nothing important. Percy was worried about his Ancient Runes score and asked me a few questions."
"Exams are over, why is he still stressing…" Ginny muttered, but didn't question it. Tom had written the Ancient Runes exam this year, and plenty of people had tried to get hints from him beforehand. All failed miserably. Percy asking for exam stuff sounded par for the course.
Percy's reputation wasn't exactly flattering.
He was very ambitious and power-hungry, admired high-ranking officials to an unhealthy degree, and was willing to break from his family just to climb the ladder. He didn't even visit his father when he was badly injured.
Some people tried to spin Percy's behavior as some big Weasley strategy. Two-sided bet and all that.
Ridiculous. As if British wizards had that level of political foresight. And even if they did, who in their right mind would hedge their bets on Dumbledore and Fudge? If anything, you'd pick Dumbledore and Voldemort.
That's why Fred called him a "Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron." (In Percy's atonement)
But Tom didn't care. He'd never believed in redemption arcs, nor was he the forgiving type.
Quite the opposite. What he valued was Percy's ambition and the ruthlessness to cut ties in order to climb.
For the Weasley family that was a flaw. For the person using Percy it was exactly the point.
No ambition, no drive. High-ranking officials didn't need sentimental people, they needed those willing to burn bridges.
Crouch had been openly and secretly complaining to Tom for weeks about overwork. Tom felt bad dumping everything on him.
Percy had just shown up at the perfect time.
"Enough about him," Tom said, clapping his hands. "We still have time before arrival. How about a fierce round of Wizard Chess?"
...
When the train finally reached the station, young witches and wizards scattered toward their families, diving into rare, heartwarming reunions.
Cherish it while it lasts. Such sweet, affectionate parents usually survived about a week. Once the honeymoon period ended, every kid turned into a headache and a disappointment.
Tom handed the Greengrass sisters over to Lady Greengrass, then took Hermione to meet the Grangers.
On the car ride home, Mr. Granger asked, "Son, Hermione told me… there's someone dangerous out there in the wizarding world?"
"You mean Gellert Grindelwald?"
"Yes, that's the one." Mr. Granger nodded quickly.
"You don't need to worry at all," Tom said reassuringly. "He's not actually that dangerous anymore. He's a bit like… well, like a certain someone from history. You can think of him as the wizarding world's version of that guy."
"That guy?" Mr. Granger echoed, confused as they stopped at a red light.
Tom opened his mouth. "You know. Hit—"
But Mr. Granger blurted, "The Nazi Führer?!" and cut him off, eyes wide.
Tom stared back in shock. Silence filled the car.
"Uncle, you…?" Tom had no idea how to follow that up.
He had just uncovered a massive secret.
Hermione was stunned too. Were her parents really English?
Maybe the Grangers were Bavarians who'd snuck into Britain generations ago.
Mrs. Granger waved it off casually. "So what? Of course we hate the guy for bombing London, but over the years we've realized how ahead of his time he really was. He just handled things dirty and left a bunch of parasitic vampires alive to leech off our work."
Mr. Granger coughed awkwardly and hurriedly changed the subject, though he still looked worried.
Even if he admired that person in secret, he knew how dangerous the comparison was. If Tom was using that historical figure to describe Grindelwald, then the wizarding world was far from peaceful.
And if their current Minister was anything like Chamberlain, wasn't that even worse?
...
Back at the Granger household, even during dinner, Tom worked overtime trying to convince the two parents that the magical world was stable now and also educate them on wizard combat. Or rather, wizard power scaling.
That part was tricky. There was no clear ranking system to refer to, so he had to keep emphasizing how overwhelmingly strong Dumbledore was.
It would be easier in the future. Tom was already drafting a standardized class system for wizards.
After dinner, before heading home, Tom flicked Hermione on the forehead.
"That's what you get for talking too much."
Hermione stuck out her tongue playfully. She knew she'd said too much and freaked her parents out.
"I won't do it again."
She rose on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as an offering of apology.
Only then did Tom head off, satisfied.
Feeling the cool evening breeze, he opened his system interface on the walk home to check his year-end summary…
.
.
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