— — — — — —

For the first time, Tom felt like he couldn't keep up with Andros's train of thought.

Hadn't they already moved on from that whole mess? Why did it feel like this self-proclaimed man of justice had a worse temper than him—out for revenge even when he hadn't lost anything?

Seeing Tom's confused face, Andros burst into hearty laughter.

"Tom, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not the petty type."

"It's just that Snape happens to have something I need. Or rather... something you need."

"Something I need?" Tom paused for a second, then quickly caught on. "You mean those potion ingredients?"

"Exactly."

Andros admitted it without hesitation, then asked with a sly smile, "Tom, do you know how wizards fought in my era?"

Tom frowned. "How else? Blast each other with spells, maybe throw in some poison, assassination, sneak attacks, ambushes, gang up on people... that kind of stuff."

Andros's eyelid twitched. "Most of what you said... is accurate."

He couldn't deny it—back then, wizards would do anything to survive. The tactics they used were even dirtier than Tom imagined.

Andros's expression turned serious as he got to the point. "Magic is, of course, a wizard's greatest weapon. But beyond that..."

He struck a dramatic bodybuilder pose. "You can't overlook physical strength!"

"As they say... massive muscles, passionate combat!"

"Whether it's dodging a spell or landing a hit before the other guy, your body has to back you up. And when it comes to close combat? Sometimes a fist is more reliable than a wand!"

A proud smile lit up his face. "Plenty of wizards met their end under these iron fists of mine. Even some of those so-called prodigies from my generation—those 'pure academic types' who only knew how to fight from a distance—once I got in close, they completely lost it. Pathetic."

"And when it comes to building real strength, I've got a full training regimen and potion system. I was gonna wait until you were a bit more established before teaching you, but after seeing Snape's stash… I think we can get started early."

"So it was my poverty slowing down my progress..." Tom muttered under his breath.

"What ingredients do we need?" he asked.

Andros rattled off a list of potion materials—over a dozen in total—all high-end stuff. Aside from a few cheap, common herbs, the rest were outrageously expensive.

For example, Dragon Heart—Tom had seen that in a potion shop before. Eight galleons an ounce, and that wasn't even fresh.

(One ounce is equal to 28 grams.)

Dragonblood grass? Fifteen galleons per stalk, and they needed eight.

Worst of all... the eyeball of a sphinx's claw. Even rarer than dragon parts—sphinxes were protected magical creatures. No way a normal drugstore would stock that.

Maybe Knockturn Alley, if you got lucky.

Price? Don't even ask.

And yet... most of these ingredients were sitting pretty in Snape's personal collection.

"I'm in," Tom said instantly.

Screw Snape—let's do it.

If a student wants to get stronger, isn't it only fair for the teacher to offer a little "support"?

"I already scoped it out. Snape's confident in his security—no magical locks, no wards on the potions. All we need is a chance to sneak in."

Tom was always cautious. Before going into Snape's office, he had already activated the "Study Space." If Snape had tried anything, he could've summoned Andros instantly with the "Embodied Learning" function.

That's how Andros knew the office layout and defenses so well.

"Let me think of a plan," Tom said, falling into deep thought.

He couldn't underestimate Snape and Dumbledore. This was their turf. If he was going to do this, it had to be clean.

Just as he was about to ask Andros to teach him some stealth magic, the dorm room door swung open.

Zabini and his two flunkies stepped in, eyes lighting up at the empty room.

"Riddle isn't here!"

"Bet Snape punished him. He's probably in detention right now!"

"Don't be stupid," Rosier scoffed. "Why detention? He probably got expelled."

"Exactly," Nott chimed in, nodding eagerly. "First day and he's already acting like a lunatic. Getting expelled sounds about right."

The three burst into laughter.

Tom smiled too—as he exited the Study Space.

Disillusionment Charm, canceled.

The moment he reappeared, all three boys froze. Then—whoosh—they were yanked into the air, arms pulled behind their backs by invisible force, like they'd been tied up by magic ropes.

A second later, their knees buckled and they crashed to the ground, forced into a kneeling position.

Zabini, Rosier, and Nott stared at the suddenly-appearing boy in utter horror.

What the hell?!

Why was he here?

Didn't Snape already call him away? He just let him go like nothing happened?!

Tom ignored their panic. He was focused on the sensation of his magic just now.

A steady will, surging emotion.

He'd used his wand—but no incantation. He'd just pulled off a nonverbal spell, and with precise control. Almost no different from speaking the spell out loud.

He was starting to understand what Andros meant—about will and emotion powering magic.

It was tricky, though. A delicate balance. Too much force, and your emotions got out of control. Too little, and the magic didn't come out at all.

Tom flicked his wand again. The kneeling trio were suddenly blasted by a powerful force, tumbling backward and slamming into the wall.

He frowned.

That wasn't right. He was trying to hang them on the wall, not bounce them off it.

Tom walked toward the three slowly, step by step.

Zabini's eyes widened in terror, shaking his head like crazy. But there was nowhere to run.

"D-Don't come any closer!"

They all saw it—Tom's wand had morphed again. Into a whip.

"We had a deal yesterday, didn't we?" Tom tilted his head. "You're free to try and get revenge... but you also have to accept the consequences of failure."

"Tattling to the professor was a good move, I'll admit."

He clicked his tongue. "Too bad Professor Snape thinks this is just a harmless little scuffle. He's not punishing me."

The three looked like the sky had fallen.

But—Snape had looked so angry this morning! How was this a "little scuffle" now?!

Nott gave up all dignity and started begging. "R-Riddle, I was wrong, okay? Please, don't hit me!"

"Too bad," Tom shook his head with a smile. "None of you are getting away today."

"Come on... each of you gets a guaranteed ten-hit combo!"

.

.

.