This Tom Wasn't Tom

The third floor was unusually lively tonight. Lockhart sleeping as soundly as ever was, in itself, highly suspicious.

But after seeing how narcissistic he was, along with his habit of burning aromatherapy incense to help himself sleep, Vincent did not find it suspicious at all.

If he had been Tom, would he have chosen such a useless professor?

Reading people's hearts and catching them off guard.

He had fallen for it a third time.

"Get up, Harry Potter." Tom's confident, charming smile appeared again. "I meant what I said. We can join forces and conquer the world."

Yeah, right!

Still acting so friendly at a time like this—any idiot could tell he was trying to take a hostage and leave Hogwarts safely.

Wait—Harry Potter?

Vincent rose to his feet and met Snape's furious gaze.

He had successfully lured someone out, so why did he still mistake him for Harry?

Unless...

"Tom, have you already forgotten what happened last year?"

"Vincent Wayne?" A flicker of horror crossed Tom's face. "I never expected it to be you, you little Mudblood."

His gaze turned disdainful. "You got lucky and escaped last time. Now, you should face your fate."

The Cherry Wand glowed red.

"Lastly, I have to thank you for bringing me something I've always wanted."

Vincent reacted swiftly, raising the Sword of Gryffindor and slashing the Disarming Spell to pieces.

"You aren't Tom. At least, not the Tom I know." He held the sword horizontally and shattered several more spells in succession.

"Impossible!" Tom's face was filled with shock.

No Muggle-born could possibly wield such a heavily medieval style of combat with such proficiency.

"Anything is possible." Vincent gripped the Sword of Gryffindor in one hand and reached for his multifunctional belt with the other, drawing out the Gunblade.

"You successfully transcended