The Old Fox Who Schemes Even for School Enrollment

"Next, Hogwarts will be welcoming a new student. I hope you won't get too excited."

"A new student? You can't possibly mean Harry Potter, can you?" Snape calculated the timing. If nothing unexpected happened, that child should be coming to school this year. Dumbledore knew full well about his relationship with Lily and James, so hoping he wouldn't act rashly was only natural. Ridiculous—how old was he now? And as a veteran of the wizarding war, a tried-and-true soldier of the Order of the Phoenix, how could he lose his composure over a child?

"Oh, no. I'm referring to another child living with him. That child's name is... Tom Riddle."

Crack!

The door to the headmaster's office was shoved open. Snape had already drawn his wand from his robes. Crucio, Imperio, Sectumsempra, Levicorpus—countless spells flashed through his mind in an instant. He wouldn't use something as simple as the Killing Curse to give that bastard a quick end. No, he had to bleed him dry, make him suffer, let him taste the depths of hell before dying.

"Don't be rash! That child just happens to share a name—he's not really Voldemort!" Dumbledore raised a hand and pulled, yanking Snape back into the office from a distance.

"How can you be so sure? A child with the same name as Voldemort appearing right beside the Chosen One—that's far too much of a coincidence!"

"Er..." Dumbledore was momentarily speechless, unsure how to refute that.

"I've personally observed that child. He is absolutely not Voldemort. When the school term begins, you'll see."

"Fine." Seeing how certain the other man was, Snape had no choice but to let it go. After all, his strength was no match for Dumbledore's. If he truly tried to go and kill someone, Dumbledore would certainly find a way to keep him trapped inside Hogwarts for the rest of his life.

4 Privet Drive.

Time flew by, and before they knew it, September 1st had arrived.

Early in the morning, Tom was already standing at the villa's entrance, dragging large bags of luggage behind him. These past days, Tom had kept to his routine of four fixed points: exercising at dawn, reading Hogwarts textbooks in the morning, practicing another set in the afternoon, and training spells alone in his room at night. Using spells too much took a toll on the body—physical stamina was manageable, but mental exhaustion was more noticeable. When his mind grew tired, it was just the right time to sleep.

During this period, aside from mastering Diffindo, Tom had also learned some functional spells, such as Lumos, Reparo, Alohomora, and the Levitation Charm. But for some reason, aside from Diffindo—an offensive spell—other functional spells that should have been simpler to practice didn't go as smoothly, and his proficiency with them was far behind Diffindo. Could it be that offensive spells suited him better?

"Big bro, I ain't cut out for this! Why's this magic so hard to learn?" Harry appeared behind Tom, also carrying his own luggage. These days, he had tried learning magic too, but without a teacher, starting from zero was truly impossible. And for some reason, once he read for too long, he'd easily feel drowsy. Besides, even though working out and reading were both pretty boring processes, he could enjoy himself while exercising, but reading inexplicably made him sleepy. He hadn't been someone who disliked books before—why had it turned out like this?

Tom naturally knew Harry had hit a wall and couldn't learn magic, but he didn't try to teach him any casting techniques. Not because he didn't want to help Harry, but simply because he was afraid of leading him astray. After all, he had only just learned himself, and he worried about passing on bad habits. Anyway, they were about to head to Hogwarts soon—there was no rush to learn magic.

"Alright, it's about time. We need to get to the station—any later and we'll miss the train." Tom slung the pile of luggage, which towered taller than he was, onto his back. King's Cross Station was a fair distance from Privet Drive, and Vernon wasn't willing to drive them, so walking was the only option. Perfect—he hadn't exercised yet today, so this trip could count as cardio. Though Tom had the magical pouch Dumbledore had given him, he didn't plan to stuff the luggage inside. If he hid all those bags in the pouch, who would know just how strong he was?

Seeing the two walking farther and farther away, Dudley chased out of the house and waved at them. "Big bro! Second bro! Have a good trip!"

"We'll miss you over there!" Harry waved back.

"..." Tom was a bit speechless. Dudley was one thing, but Harry in the original story was pretty sharp too—why was he talking so bluntly now? Could it be that building too much muscle really did affect the brain? Tom waved back in response, then set off on the road to King's Cross Station.

King's Cross Station was filled with its usual clamor. But unlike other days, between Platforms Nine and Ten, two children carrying large bags of luggage were pacing back and forth. Tom, of course, knew where Platform 9¾ was, but if he barged straight in, he'd very likely be suspected of being Voldemort reincarnated.

After all, his magical cultivation was still shallow—who could be sure there weren't Order of the Phoenix members nearby, hidden under Disillusionment Charms, watching?

If he ever showed too much knowledge of the wizarding world, he might really be reporting to Azkaban next.

"What a sly old fox," Tom grumbled inwardly.

According to the panel's feedback, he had already successfully earned Dumbledore's trust, yet the old man was still testing him openly and covertly.

Did he have to be this cautious?

Then again, without that kind of vigilance, he probably wouldn't have found those well-hidden Horcruxes later on.

"Platform 9¾? Never heard of it."

He asked a few passersby, but they all shook their heads, saying they didn't know.

Just then, a gentle voice suddenly came from behind.

"You two are first-years heading to Hogwarts, aren't you, dears?"

They turned around to see a plump, red-haired woman with a kind face, followed by five children with the same red hair.

"Yes, ma'am. We can't find Platform 9¾," Tom nodded in reply.

"Oh, you poor things. Where are your parents? They let you two children carry all this luggage and didn't even show you the way?" Molly Weasley looked at the two kids, her heart aching.

What kind of cruel parents would make their children carry luggage taller than themselves?

Such resilient children.

"Don't worry, dear. I'll show you the way." Molly's maternal instincts kicked in, and she personally led Tom and the others to their destination.

"It's the third pillar between platforms nine and ten. Don't be scared—just run straight into it."

Perhaps worried the two children would be nervous, Molly gestured behind her and instructed, "Ron, you demonstrate."

"Mum, it's my first time going too. Can't one of the older brothers do it first?" Ron looked at the solid brick wall and shrank back.

"Stop your nonsense and get on with it!"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

Ron pouted, had no choice but to muster his courage, shut his eyes, and charged at the red brick wall.

Then, like a glitch in a game, he passed right through it.

Molly smiled and looked at Tom and the other. "That's it, children."

Tom gave a slight bow to Molly. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley!"

Then he took a deep breath, jogged, and slammed into the wall.

The expected collision never came. After a brief stretch of darkness, the sight before him left him in awe.

A red steam locomotive stood amid a bustling crowd, with the words "Hogwarts Express" emblazoned on its front.