"After meeting him, what do you think of that child?"
In the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore had prepared a chair and a freshly brewed cup of honey water for Snape.
Of all the professors, Snape was probably the one who objected to Tom the most.
For the sake of healthy relationships between students and staff, Dumbledore, as headmaster, had a duty to smooth things over between them.
"That child is quite good, but his tongue is a little too sharp." Snape spoke frankly.
Then he gave a rough account of what had happened in class.
As he spoke, he picked up the honey water beside him. But after taking only a small sip, his face stiffened for a moment before he slowly set the cup down.
Most bats didn't like sweet things, especially things that were far too sweet.
After listening quietly to everything Snape had to say, Dumbledore suddenly thought of something.
"Do you think Tom might be the child in the Prophecy?"
According to Sybill Trelawney's Prophecy, the person who would ultimately defeat Voldemort had several defining traits. The four most important were that he had been born at the end of July 1980, marked by Voldemort, possessed a power Voldemort did not know about, and came from a family that had opposed Voldemort three times.
Tom and Harry had birthdays close together, with Tom's only a few days earlier, so he basically fit the first trait.
Tom's name was exactly the same as Voldemort's. If Voldemort ever returned, he would surely target him, so Tom basically fit the second trait too.
As for the third trait... Even Voldemort couldn't see through the power Tom possessed, let alone Dumbledore. He had immense strength, was a magical prodigy, and was a Potions prodigy. Who knew what other hidden talents he had yet to show? In any case, if Tom continued to grow at his current rate, he would certainly become someone who surpassed Dumbledore. His defeat of Voldemort was a sure thing.
As for the fourth trait... Dumbledore had once visited the place where Tom was born, an orphanage. According to the head of the orphanage, Tom's mother had arrived alone as a refugee. She had no identification of any kind, and even after her death, no one knew her real name.
Judging by the timeline, that period had been the height of the Wizarding War. Although Voldemort himself hadn't killed many people, plenty of wizards had died at the hands of his Death Eaters. The Ministry of Magic still had a huge backlog of missing-wizard cases waiting to be dealt with.
Tom might well have been born into some unknown wizarding family that had repeatedly fought against the Death Eaters.
"Are you listening to me?" Dumbledore looked up.
He had gone over every detail of his theory, but Snape was standing there as if he'd zoned out.
"Oh—right! I think you're right," Snape replied belatedly.
Voldemort had learned the contents of the Prophecy because Snape had overheard it and passed it along to him in secret. In a way, he had played a part in the deaths of Harry's parents.
Bringing up the past now left him dazed.
"In any case, there's no harm in keeping a closer eye on Tom. If he needs anything in the future, do your best to provide it."
"I understand."
Three fifteen in the afternoon.
It was time for the second class of the afternoon.
This was Flying Class.
The lesson was held outside Hogwarts Castle, on an open stretch of grass near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The students hurried over in advance, and Tom was among them.
But a crowd of students had gathered around him.
"Nicely done, Tom! You actually made that sharp-tongued old bat take a hard fall!"
"I don't think you should've gone to Slytherin. You should've joined us in Gryffindor."
"I think the Sorting Hat's gone senile. You're a brave lion through and through!"
"Exactly, exactly..."
Tom might have been in Serpent House, but at that moment he was surrounded by students from Gryffindor.
A group of little lions had gathered around him, cheering him on for the courage he'd shown in class.
According to the older students, whenever Snape taught a class, every House except Slytherin was bound to lose points.
But today, after Tom had stirred things up, Snape seemed to have lost his composure. He hadn't taken a single point from anyone all lesson.
"Tom, could you teach us some of the material from class? We want to be able to argue with the old bat until he can't say a word!"
"Tom, are you free after school today?"
Amid the chatter, a Gryffindor girl moved up in front of Tom.
But before Tom could respond...
"Make way, make way, the teacher's coming."
Daphne pushed through the crowd and shoved the people around her aside.
One Granger was bad enough, but now there was another girl?
For some reason, she felt as if a group of strangers were fighting over her beloved toy.
"That's right, everyone, stop crowding around Tom. Besides, what if you all argue with Snape in class and drive him over the edge? None of us will come out of that well!"
Hermione stepped forward too, trying her best to disperse the crowd.
But as soon as she said that, some of the Gryffindors couldn't help looking displeased.
She was such a wet blanket.
It was fine for a Slytherin to stick up for one of their own, but what was a Gryffindor doing taking the other side?
I really have made myself unpopular, Tom murmured to himself.
Hermione had always been quite assertive, and on top of that, she was an excellent student. That was why she hadn't had many friends in the original story. Now Harry and Ron had been led over to Slytherin by Tom as well.
On her own in Gryffindor, she was probably going to have a pretty hard time.
If he tried to help her, Hermione would likely refuse on the spot out of pride.
He'd just have to see whether she had a solution of her own.
As they spoke,
a wizard with hawklike eyes and short gray hair approached from a little way off.
Rolanda Hooch was usually the most energetic professor at Hogwarts, but today she looked utterly exhausted. Four big words were written all over her face:
[Don't want to work]
Her job used to be very simple. She only had to teach the young witches and wizards how to fly once a week, with two Houses in each lesson. That meant she only had two classes a week, and the work was easy.
But after the House reforms, her schedule had filled up. Her workload had increased sevenfold, to a full fourteen classes a week.
Just looking at the densely packed words on her schedule made her feel exhausted.
Not only that, she also had to coach the Quidditch teams in her spare time. Whenever a team ran into a problem they couldn't solve, they came to her.
Day after day, her workload was maxed out.
It was fair to say that she was the biggest victim of this exam reform.
If her pay hadn't gone up by dozens of Galleons too, she would have quit on the spot.
"Now that everyone's here, head to the training-ground shed and each take a broomstick. Remember not to break them. They're expensive."
Madam Hooch's voice was listless, even though she'd only taught one class so far today.
A few minutes later, each student had a simple broomstick by their right foot.
"All right, hurry up. Hold your right hand over the broom and say, 'Up.'"
"Up!" Tom raised his right hand. At his command, the broom on the ground immediately soared into the air and landed in his hand.
Holding the broom, he examined it carefully.
Tom's first impression wasn't anything else. It was that the thing looked fragile.
Wands were all right; you held them in your hand while using them, so you could keep an eye on them at all times. But a broom had to be clamped between your legs. What if he got too focused on flying and snapped it in half?
Could he get this thing replaced with a steel one?
And if it was made of steel, could one end be sharpened to a point? Then he could use it as a weapon while flying.
And if it was going to be a weapon, wouldn't it be better to replace the broom with a full-length, heavy greatsword?
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