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In the eyes of ordinary Muggles, wizards were like gods.
So what counted as a god in the eyes of wizards?
Simple. Someone who could do what they themselves could never do. That alone was enough.
What Tom had just done was exactly that. An incomprehensible feat, something none of them could replicate. In the hands of an average wizard, it would just be a Levitation Charm.
"You know…" Dumbledore suddenly spoke again, his voice quieter. "If Voldemort saw this… do you think he'd completely lose heart and hide away for good?"
Grindelwald paused, not expecting Dumbledore to bring up Voldemort at a moment like this. After a beat, he clicked his tongue.
"Impossible. You're overthinking it."
Dumbledore seemed mildly surprised by the answer and asked with interest, "Why?"
"Albus, you don't understand villains. You understand ambition and greed even less."
Grindelwald looked toward the boy who had finished casting and was now holding Gabrielle, coaxing the little girl. A mocking curve tugged at his lips. "If Voldemort saw that miracle, he'd be afraid, sure. But he'd never accept living in someone else's shadow."
"He'd do anything to grow stronger. Strong enough to surpass you, surpass me, surpass Tom. And then he'd seize the secret behind that power."
This time, Dumbledore had no reply.
It was true. Voldemort's hunger for power was unmatched in his experience. Being outclassed by a teenage boy… how could he not covet that strength?
And what about Grindelwald himself?
For a brief moment, the old man's gaze toward him shifted, the change subtle enough that the other man didn't notice.
Still, one thing they said turned out to be perfectly timed. Voldemort really was watching this very scene.
Not just him. Wizards all over the world were witnessing it.
Tom had started a live broadcast as soon as the equipment was ready. Not to show off. He simply wanted to earn a bit more advertising money.
Recently, for reasons unknown, Grindelwald had been pestering him for funds.
...
..
"Beautiful power."
Voldemort pulled his cold gaze away from the Lume-Lens, killing intent leaking from him in waves.
"Tom Riddle…"
Both Bellatrix and Lockhart shivered and quietly edged farther away.
Lockhart's expression as he looked at the screen was complicated. He was probably among the people in the world who most wished for a do-over. If he could go back to those days, he'd never provoke Tom Riddle.
But what had happened had already happened, and now this student had grown stronger than his current master. Sigh, who could he even complain to about that? He might as well start digging his own grave.
Voldemort, meanwhile, saw deeper. Just as Grindelwald predicted, he was shocked and furious, but even more than that, he felt confusion and greed.
After a brief moment of frustration, he quickly steadied himself.
"What are you panicking for?" He tilted his head slightly, looking at his two disappointing subordinates. "Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Riddle are all at Hogwarts right now. There's no one left in this entire continent who can oppose me. Once I obtain the Golden Apple… it'll be their time to die."
Lockhart and Bellatrix exchanged looks, suddenly enlightened.
Right!
With the three monsters all at Hogwarts playing house, didn't that make them unbeatable on this side with Voldemort leading the way?
"Master, your wisdom is unmatched!" Lockhart instantly perked up again and hurried to flatter him.
Whether a boss likes flattery is the boss's business. But not offering it is a matter of attitude.
That is one of the basic rules of the art of ass-kissing.
...
..
Elsewhere, on an empty stretch of wilderness.
Andros sat cross-legged in midair, his body bobbing like a balloon floating on water, gently rising and falling with the breeze.
He looked as if he were meditating, but his mind had already slipped into his study space for a nap.
These past few days, Andros had been waiting for Voldemort to deliver himself to the door. He'd waited so long the flowers practically wilted.
He never expected Voldemort to be this cautious. He had even deliberately chosen a major event like the tournament, only planning to act once Tom and the other two old wizards all appeared in the live broadcast.
But after a while, he stopped caring. And instead of waiting inside the ruins, Andros chose a suitable battlefield.
As for why he wasn't worried about Voldemort grabbing the fruit and escaping, it was simple. The Golden Apple wasn't merely a fruit—it was also a Portkey.
That had been Tom's idea. Of course, he'd borrowed it from Voldemort's own trick in the original story. Harry no longer had any chance of being dragged out of Hogwarts, so they might as well let Voldemort experience it himself.
Did that count as the timeline correcting itself?
Unaware that every step he took had already been calculated, Voldemort made a simple disguise and slipped into the team exploring the ruins.
…
..
Back at Hogwarts, the time reached eleven in the morning. The temperature had warmed to something comfortable.
Jumping into the water would still feel chilly, but it was far better than earlier.
The timing of the third task hadn't been chosen at random. Professor Sinistra of Astronomy had spent half a month calculating it. Today was the best weather window within the past half month.
So astronomy wasn't completely useless. At least when it came to predicting weather, it was far more accurate than Muggle forecasts, and could predict much further ahead.
"Ladies and gentlemen—"
Bagman once again took on the role of host, introducing the rules and highlights of this round to both the live audience and viewers watching through the Lume-Lenses.
Compared to the first two rounds, the third task clearly had far more to offer.
Underwater exploration. Puzzle solving. Most importantly, conflict. The champions could fight each other and steal one another's loot. Wasn't that far more interesting than simply battling monsters and waiting for scores?
So even when Bagman, at Tom's insistence, inserted a full five minutes of ad reads, the audience only grumbled and cursed. No one switched off or left.
Finally, the focus shifted away from the fat man to the shore of the Black Lake. Several champions were already prepared.
Quinta, Nassim, and Jauncey had all used Transfiguration to turn their clothes into swimwear. Quinta's athletic build and wheat-colored skin made more than a few young wizards quietly wipe drool from the corners of their mouths.
But aside from those three, Daphne and the others were still wearing their school robes.
Each champion stood some distance apart. Daphne and Kamio were especially far from each other, afraid anyone might suspect their secret deal.
Fweeeet!
At Professor McGonagall's whistle, a series of splashes followed as the champions dove into the lake.
Daphne and Kamio were a bit slower. They exchanged a glance, shared a smile, then stepped into the water together.
Tom noticed the detail, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
What's this? Those two planning something?
Fortunately… he had already made his move before they could. Otherwise, he might actually have been outdone.
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