— — — — — —
"Professor, you're overthinking it."
Tom said with a smile, "With Mr. Grindelwald's reputation, hardly anyone believes what he says anyway. Especially in the American magical world. After what he pulled back then, they were practically traumatized."
"...Even if my reputation isn't great," he continued, "I'd say I'm still far more trustworthy than Mr. Grindelwald. So they'll definitely believe me over him."
Dumbledore opened his mouth to argue, then stopped.
Because Tom wasn't wrong.
It was like Snape stepping forward and claiming he'd killed Voldemort. Sure, he could say it—but no one would believe him.
Dumbledore shot Grindelwald a disdainful look, his brows knitting slightly.
"Grindelwald, what do you want with Quahog?"
He was already regretting telling Grindelwald about the New York trip. If he hadn't mentioned Quahog back then, none of this would be happening now. The thought left him thoroughly annoyed with himself.
Grindelwald stiffened. His fists clenched.
He snorted and avoided Dumbledore's gaze, instead shooting an irritated glare at Phineas, who was watching the whole scene from the wall with open amusement.
"What I want with Quahog is none of your concern, Dumbledore. Don't forget it was me who told you about the Magical Congress researching those ancient ruins. If you're not interested in investigating, then I'll take over."
"Riddle."
Grindelwald turned sharply, his eyes sharp as blades.
"As long as you hand Quahog over to me, I guarantee your Guild will be able to appear openly on American soil. And if I fail to make that happen within three months, the mithril mine in the Ruhr District and the Sands of Time from the German Ministry of Magic are yours. Both of them."
"Headmaster."
Tom gave Dumbledore an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Mr. Grindelwald is just offering too much."
Dumbledore frowned. "Have you extracted all of Quahog's secrets?"
"He's already told us everything he can," Tom said quietly, his tone calm. "Quahog doesn't know much about the interior of the ancient ruins. Fontaine probably knows more than he does. In the end, he's just an executor—not a core researcher."
"If we hand him over to Mr. Grindelwald, maybe someday he'll even come back to me looking for cooperation. Joint development and all that."
"See?" Grindelwald finally smiled. "Dumbledore, you should learn from your student. That's what you call vision."
In the end, under Dumbledore's witness, Grindelwald received Quahog—whose blank eyes made it obvious his mind had been thoroughly broken.
Without lingering for even a moment, Grindelwald immediately left Hogwarts.
Next, Tom took out the Elder Wand and had Dumbledore cast a Disarming Charm on him, transferring the wand's allegiance back to its original master.
Over the past week, he'd spent some spare time researching what would happen if the three Deathly Hallows were united.
The result was… absolutely nothing.
No miraculous transformation.
Nothing changed at all.
Perhaps the Hallows only revealed their true power at the threshold between life and death. Harry, for instance, had seen the already-dead Dumbledore while hovering at death's door—and had successfully returned to the world of the living.
In a sense, that could count as defeating Death, which did match the legend behind the Hallows.
But deliberately putting himself at death's door just to study these things?
Not a chance.
Tom wasn't about to risk his life over some legend. The Deathly Hallows simply weren't worth that.
Maybe his line of thinking was flawed. But lately, Tom had become completely absorbed in exploring the power hidden in bloodlines. He had no time to keep wasting on the Hallows.
Better to return them to Dumbledore for now. If curiosity struck again later, he could always borrow them back.
But for now, he planned to apply his talents elsewhere, instead of burning time on vague myths.
...
"Tom, seeing you at school is quite a rare sight."
After leaving Dumbledore's office and heading downstairs toward the common room, Tom unexpectedly ran into Hozumi Kamio.
A faint smile appeared at the boy's lips, carrying a hint of playful amusement.
The girl in front of him was very much his type.
Her waist-length pink hair fell like a waterfall, the tips curling slightly. Her slender waist—so slim it could be wrapped in two hands—was outlined beneath her academy robes. And then there was that devastatingly beautiful face, innocent yet alluring.
The only thing that broke the mood was her heavily accented English.
It wasn't just Hozumi—every Asian who spoke English had that same distinctive cadence. The Indians, though, were even harder to listen to.
After mentally roasting half the world, Tom turned his attention back to the Japanese girl in front of him...
What really attracted Tom most about Hozumi Kamio was her special feature.
Fleur was only a half-Veela, so she didn't have a transformation.
But Hozumi Kamio…
Noticing Tom's gaze drifting toward the space behind her again, Hozumi's pretty face flushed. A faint blush spread across her pale cheeks, and she lowered her voice with a shy, girlish softness.
"Riddle… what are you looking at?"
"Can I touch it?"
Tom ignored the woman's perfectly natural acting and asked directly.
That completely short-circuited Kamio Hozumi.
She froze on the spot, beautiful eyes filled with confusion. In the few conversations she'd had with Tom, she'd already noticed he never played by the usual rules. All the little tricks she had carefully prepared over the past few days suddenly felt useless. For a moment she didn't even know how to respond.
Agree?
Or refuse?
When she didn't answer, Tom glanced around the hallway, spotted an empty classroom, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her inside.
"If you want to make friends, you need to show some sincerity," he said. "Now's the time to let me see yours."
"How?" Hozumi asked instinctively, already dizzy from his relentless pace.
The next second, Tom's eyes changed.
The deep black of his pupils shimmered with golden light. His pupils narrowed into vertical slits, and a terrifying pressure erupted from him.
After days of practice, he had already learned to skillfully draw on the power within his bloodline. That naturally included Rayquaza's dragon's might.
"Ah~"
Faced with that overwhelming pressure, Hozumi's expression twisted in pain. Her body trembled uncontrollably.
With a sharp shhhk, three golden fluffy fox tails burst out from behind her.
The tips glowed faintly with a soft halo. And if one looked closely, a fourth tail could be seen, hazy and half-formed, struggling to take shape.
The tails spread open, releasing a pale golden barrier that enveloped Hozumi, trying to resist the sky ruler's oppressive might.
But such power, the barrier was as fragile as paper. It did nothing.
Hozumi's face twisted in pain as she staggered back and collapsed into a chair.
Tom stepped forward, drawing even more power from his bloodline. Cracks instantly spread across the golden barrier. Sharp crack crack sounds rang out as fragments of light fell away from the splitting surface.
The distance between them shrank until they were almost pressed together.
Tom looked at the fox tails still swaying wildly in resistance and slowly reached out his sinful hand.
"…Mmph—!"
Hozumi's tense body instantly went limp. A soft, unclear whimper slipped from her nose, her cheeks flushing bright red.
Tom, meanwhile, wore a satisfied smile.
"So soft."
Then he extended his other hand as well and began thoroughly kneading the fluffy tails.
"D-don't… ah… don't squeeze…" Hozumi begged with the last of her strength. If this continued, she really would break.
Damn Englishman. Hadn't he ever heard that a fox's tail isn't meant to be touched?
But when had Tom Riddle ever cared about anyone else's feelings?
He ignored Hozumi's pleas and continued savoring the soft, plush sensation of the tails.
...
Ten minutes later, he finally let her go.
By then the fox girl had slipped into a dazed, half-conscious state. She'd fainted and woken up several times already. Now she lay limp in his arms like a rag doll, completely drained. If he wasn't supporting her with his leg, she would have slid to the floor.
Tom wore a bright, cheerful smile, though he still looked a little unsatisfied.
"Three tails are already this fun. If you grew nine… wouldn't that be three times the happiness?"
"The golden-furred nine-tailed fox, Hozumi Kamio… no, that's not quite right."
"Perhaps… Tamamo-no-Mae would be a more fitting name."
Hozumi forced her eyes open a crack and looked at him. But she didn't have the strength to speak. Her eyes closed again.
"I have things to do," Tom said casually. "Since you cooperated so well today, I'll give you a chance after the champion selection ends. You can come clean and tell me your real objective."
With a flick of his wand, he pushed several desks together to form a makeshift bed. He lifted Hozumi in his arms and gently laid her down on it.
Then he turned and left the classroom, casually casting a locking charm on the door.
It had only been ten minutes, but he estimated the little fox wouldn't be able to move again until evening.
---
Meanwhile, Astoria was in the common room, sitting there with a completely dead-eyed expression while enduring her sister's relentless teasing.
The moment she saw Tom, it was like she'd been struck by lightning. She sprang up from the sofa and ran straight into his arms.
"Tom, you're finally back!"
Tom blinked in confusion.
Why did Astoria sound like she'd been bullied?
Was there actually someone in this school who thought their family tree had too many living members and dared to mess with her?
The other students in the common room looked just as strange. They exchanged puzzled glances, some whispering quietly to each other.
Everyone looked at Astoria clinging to Tom, then at Daphne happily skipping over without the slightest hesitation.
Something about this felt… off.
Even if she was the future sister-in-law, wasn't this level of closeness a bit much?
.
.
.