Cassandra had no idea what Tom meant by that cryptic line about the meaning of life, but she still arrived half an hour early.
He, of course, appeared precisely on time.
"Did you bring the money?" Tom asked the moment he sat down, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
She stared at him. "Are you that short on funds?"
"Desperately," he replied with absolute sincerity. "I've recently realized the true power of money. This holiday, my primary goal is to make as much of it as possible. So… would you like to be my patron?"
Patron.
The word made the corner of her lips curve upward before she suppressed it.
"What about the Greengrass family? They're hardly poor."
"I want to earn money, not ask for it." He waved dismissively. "Forget it. We'll find somewhere quieter in a moment and talk business. How have you been?"
"Thanks to you, I argued with my father yesterday."
She gave a dry laugh and openly recounted the confrontation.
When she finished, Tom looked genuinely impressed.
"Your father… truly fearless in ignorance. Just like you were."
Her expression snapped. "Must you keep bringing that up?"
She could face him calmly now, but that humiliation at Hogwarts still burned. He had not treated her like a girl at all. He had fought her like an opponent to be crushed.
"Fine, fine." He raised his hands. "So what are you planning? Want me to visit your estate for a stroll?"
She shook her head. "If you want to end up in a MACUSA cell, go ahead. Underage foreign wizards aren't permitted to use magic here."
"Your father pulls tricks like that and MACUSA still protects him?"
"That isn't trickery. It's using the rules."
"Next time lure him overseas. I'll handle him for you. Five thousand galleons labor fee."
She stared at him.
He was serious.
He was also definitely broke.
"You need money that badly?" she asked flatly. "I have thirty thousand galleons at Gringotts. If you need it urgently, I can lend it to you. Stop plotting against my father."
Tom blinked.
"Thirty thousand? Little heiress, aren't you?"
He had expected perhaps ten thousand at most.
At that moment, he almost wished Daphne were there to take notes. Both were pure blood daughters of old families. Yet Cassandra had accumulated a fortune, while Daphne's secret stash was perpetually empty.
"Come on."
He stood abruptly, abandoning his coffee and pulling her along.
"Where are we going?"
"To show you my greatest treasure."
...
Central Park, Manhattan.
Tom selected a dense patch of trees and cast a Muggle Repelling Charm. Once satisfied they would not be disturbed, he began his demonstration.
"This is a Guardian Necklace. It blocks powerful spells and can Apparate you away from lethal danger. Three thousand galleons. Fair price?"
"Very fair." Cassandra nodded immediately. She had seen inferior versions sell for the same.
"This is a Flame Ring. Channel magic into it and you get Incendio and Confringo. I'll demonstrate."
He flicked his wrist. Fire burst forth, then exploded with concussive force.
"The internal rune circuits degrade. Originally ten uses per spell. Now nine. I'll sell it for eight hundred. Reasonable?"
She almost snatched it from him, sliding it onto her finger and admiring the gleam.
"I'll take it."
"This is a Purity Emblem. Wear it and you'll remain clean at all times. It emits a faint fragrance. Preferred scent?"
"Lilac."
"I don't have that in stock. Lavender?"
"Fine."
Item after item emerged from his pockets like conjurer's delights.
Defensive artifacts.
Offensive tools.
Curious, niche devices.
She accepted nearly everything.
Except the enchanted viewing monocle.
"Absolutely not," she said sharply. "And you are not allowed to wear glasses around me."
Tom sniffed. "Nothing to see anyway."
By the time she regained clarity, she had spent fifteen thousand galleons.
Then the real assault began.
Improved spells.
A modified Stunning Charm. One thousand.
Enhanced Blasting Curse. Three thousand.
Reinforced Shield Charm. Three thousand.
Tom regarded her with pity.
"Miss Voray. You're out of funds."
She nodded dazedly.
She had never before felt poor.
"You have something stronger?" she asked weakly.
"Of course."
He smiled like a devil and raised his wand toward the sky.
A streak of blue shot upward, too fast for mundane eyes to track.
Three seconds later, Manhattan's clear sky convulsed.
Wind roared.
Clouds coiled violently overhead.
Thunder rolled across the skyline.
Crack.
A bolt as thick as a barrel slammed into a distant skyscraper's lightning rod.
Then another.
And another.
More than a dozen strikes carved jagged paths through the storm before silence fell.
"Disperse."
He twirled his wand lightly.
The clouds dissolved as if erased.
The city returned to its bright, ordinary calm.
Cassandra stared.
Was this truly within a wizard's reach?
"Want to learn?" Tom's voice drifted near her ear.
He had stepped close behind her.
Too close.
His breath brushed her skin.
"This is a variant of the Weather Charm. You won't reach my level, but it will far surpass that adorable little cloud trick you used before."
With Thunderbird blood in his veins, weather obeyed him instinctively.
And fate had a sense of humor.
The spell Cassandra adored most was weather manipulation.
She inhaled sharply.
She was competitive to the core.
Faced with such overwhelming force…
How could she possibly refuse?