Andros's voice suddenly rang out, making Tom's heart skip a beat. He almost swallowed his words. Irritated, he shot back, "Andros, do you even have a Galleon in your pocket? She's only eleven. What does she know about liking someone? You're just making a fuss."
He didn't mention himself. Talking about romance with an eleven-year-old girl was ridiculous. Still, Tom stroked his chin and mused that once the girl grew up, it might not be a bad idea. After all, she was certainly pretty.
"What's so strange about that?" Andros said nonchalantly. "Back in our day, loads of people married and had children at thirteen or fourteen. Some did it even earlier. You're just making a big deal out of nothing."
Tom raised an eyebrow, deliberately poking at a sore spot. "Oh? Then tell me, Mr. Andros, did you marry and have children when you were thirteen or fourteen?" Andros fell silent at once. Tom nearly burst out laughing. Back then, Andros had been a battle maniac and a magic fanatic. In his eyes, women would only slow down his study of magic.
Forget thirteen or fourteen—he'd been single his whole life, right up until he died. With his extraordinary talent, he could have left behind an heir. His descendants might even have built a thriving family.
Tom sighed inwardly for a moment, then his thoughts promptly wandered elsewhere. The Wizarding World's emphasis on bloodlines did make sense. Powerful wizards passed down a foundation of strength and family knowledge to their descendants, so Pure-blood families really did have an easier time maintaining their legacies.
Take the Gaunt Family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pure-blood families. Their ancestors had all enjoyed their share of glory.
Seeing that Andros was so stumped he couldn't get a word out, then petulantly shut off the Study Space, Tom struggled to contain his laughter, his shoulders shaking. He turned back to Daphne with a warm smile and answered her questions. As they chatted, Tom couldn't resist fishing for information.
Daphne was innocent and guileless. Within minutes, she'd spilled everything about the Greengrass Family. Her mother was the head of the Department of Magical Transportation, as were her grandmother and great-grandmother. They could practically be called a "Department of Magical Transportation dynasty." The Greengrass Family also had a tradition of bringing sons-in-law into the family, and for three hundred years, they'd had only daughters.
What made Tom's heart stir most was Daphne's complaint: "Ugh, I only get two hundred Galleons in pocket money each term. It's nowhere near enough. I even have to scrimp and save if I want to buy Muggle magazines."
Tom's eyes lit up as he rapidly calculated. Marrying into the family didn't sound so bad! Hogwarts had three terms in an academic year, so Daphne got six hundred Galleons a year in pocket money—almost as much as old Dumbledore had given him in total over seven years.
A sweet, adorable rich girl was practically handing him a windfall. How could he pass that up? Once he'd had the thought, Tom treated Daphne even more gently, speaking with greater patience. He soon had the girl smiling from ear to ear, gazing at him with even more adoration.
At around half past twelve, the compartment door opened slightly, and a smiling woman poked her head in. "Would you children like to buy something to eat? We have Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Juice, and toffees."
"Yes!" Daphne's eyes lit up. She hopped down from her seat and went over to the trolley, grabbing a little of everything. She especially cleaned out the Chocolate Frogs, piling them on the table until they looked like a little mountain.
At the till, the saleswoman named the price. "Two Galleons and thirteen Sickles." Tom was startled. That was enough to cover the Weasley family's pocket money for a whole year! At last, he understood why Daphne thought two hundred Galleons wasn't enough. At this rate, she could burn through it all in a month.
While Daphne got her money, Tom discreetly studied the saleswoman. He'd heard she'd been selling snacks here ever since the Express began running in 1830. That would make her a hundred and eighty years old—quite an age, even for a witch.
He watched her closely and even called out to the withdrawn Andros to look with him. But by the time the saleswoman left, neither of them had noticed anything unusual.
Tom shrugged. He put it down to her naturally long lifespan and didn't think much more about it. Daphne pushed the snacks toward Tom. "Riddle, have some. I bought too much."
Tom accepted them without hesitation, thinking to himself, If I'm not even brave enough to live off a woman, what kind of future can I expect?
The two ate and chatted, and the subject turned to their houses. Daphne looked a little embarrassed. "Everyone in our family is in Slytherin, so I'll probably go there too. The other houses are nice enough, as long as I don't end up in Gryffindor."
"Why do you dislike Gryffindor?" Tom asked curiously, holding a Chocolate Frog in his hand.
Daphne looked disgusted. "My mother says Gryffindor is the source of all trouble. They're a bunch of hotheads, and wherever they go, there's no peace. You never know what kind of mess they'll cause."
Tom nodded, in full agreement. The Gryffindors really did bring trouble wherever they went. "Riddle, do you want to go to Gryffindor?"
When she saw that he didn't answer, Daphne thought she'd upset him and lowered her head in dismay. "No, I want to go to Ravenclaw," Tom said with a smile. "If that doesn't work out, Hufflepuff is fine too. I just want to study in peace. I don't want to get mixed up with Gryffindor troublemakers."
"You love studying so much, you're bound to get into Ravenclaw!" Daphne declared, her eyes lighting up. She looked at Tom with even greater admiration.
Just then, a scream came from outside the compartment. The two exchanged a glance but paid it no mind. There were lots of new students, so it was only natural that some of them would make a fuss.
After finishing their snacks, they both felt a little sleepy and decided to take a nap. Before long, someone knocked on the door. Without waiting for a reply, they pushed it open.
A little girl with tousled brown hair poked her head in. She had a cute face, though her front teeth were a little hard to miss. She stopped halfway through her sentence when she saw Tom, then cried out, "Have you seen a toad—Riddle?! What are you doing here?!"
The chubby boy behind her trembled with fright, almost ducking behind her. Daphne already found the girl too impulsive, and seeing that she knew Tom made her scrunch up her little face in displeasure.
Tom remained calm and glanced at her. "Miss Granger, if you can be here, why can't I? Did you buy the train or something?"
"N-no, I didn't mean you couldn't..." Hermione stammered, her face turning red as she hurried to explain. "I mean, this is wonderful! I never expected to run into you here!"
At that, Daphne's face darkened completely. Her hand tightened around the edge of her skirt, and she had the inexplicable feeling that someone was about to steal her precious toy.
As it happened, Tom had Hermione to thank for learning about this world ahead of time.
Ever since that mathematics competition in third grade, he'd kept running into Hermione at various elementary school contests. He was there for the prize money and the rewards from his school; Hermione was simply bored, since studying was her hobby.
What good was a hobby? It couldn't compare to his desire to survive. They'd faced off more than ten times, and Tom had won most of them. The only time he'd lost was in the three-legged race at the sports meet. The idiot teacher sent by the school had been so uncoordinated that he'd dragged Tom down.
Hermione had thought that once she went to Hogwarts, she'd never get another chance to compete against Tom. She'd regretted it for days. Now, seeing him on the train, her eyes lit up. Didn't this mean she'd still have a chance to beat Tom and prove she was better than him?
Before you continue