Half a Month in Hedong, Half a Month in Hexi

After class, Tom found a corner to help Hermione remove the Trace from her wand.

The second period was Charms Class. Professor Flitwick opened Tom's workbook and found it was empty. He raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Riddle, where's your homework?"

"Professor, I forgot."

Professor Flitwick thought for a moment. "Then write it now."

Tom picked up his quill, ready to write, when Professor Flitwick waved his wand, and a golden ribbon flew from the tip, dancing a tap dance in the air.

"If you can write it, then write it; if you can't, then play with me."

Tom looked at the ribbon, put down his quill, picked up his wand, and waved it at the ribbon.

The ribbon transformed into a golden fireball, exploded in mid-air, and turned into a flower. Professor Flitwick's eyes lit up.

"Good, no need to do homework, Slytherin gets five points."

Tom sat down, Daphne looked at him. "This is okay?"

"Professor Flitwick is a nice person."

The third period was Herbology. Professor Sprout stood in the greenhouse, looking at the good students who bowed their heads in remorse.

Professor Sprout thought for a moment. "Then you can fertilize the pitcher plant. After you've done that, you won't have to do your homework."

Tom followed her to the back of the greenhouse, where a row of pitcher plants stood in flowerpots, each about half a person's height, their pitchers emitting the stench of rotting flesh.

Professor Sprout handed him a bucket of fertilizer. "One spoonful per plant, not too much, or it will burn the roots."

Tom took the bucket and began fertilizing. The pitcher plant's traps opened, revealing the digestive fluids inside.

He poured the fertilizer in, and the insect trap closed, making a gurgling sound.

"Professor, can this thing eat people?"

"No. At most, we'll eat some rats."

After Tom finished fertilizing the last plant, his robe reeked of fertilizer. Professor Sprout nodded.

"You don't need to do your homework anymore." That's a closed chapter.

Professor Binns's class was even easier; you could just copy a few notes and piece them together. Tom copied Nott's homework; the handwriting was messy and the content was empty, but it still made up eight inches.

He placed the assignment on the podium, but Professor Binns didn't even glance at it.

Defense Against the Dark Arts. Quirrell stood on the platform, trembling, and the smell of garlic was even stronger than before.

Quirrell's hand trembled slightly as Tom walked into the classroom.

"Mr. Riddle, where's your homework?"

"It wasn't written."

Quirrell opened his mouth. "It's okay, just remember to write it next time."

The class fell silent, and the Slytherin students burst into laughter; this was their Tom.

The only troublesome one was Snape. That evening, in Snape's office...

Tom barked the question straight at him, "Professor, I haven't done my Potions homework."

"Confinement." Snape said without even looking up.

"No, that's too time-consuming, let's choose another one."

Snape picked up his teacup and took a sip. "You didn't do your homework, so you should be in solitary confinement. Or..."

"Help me dispose of a batch of toad carcasses."

"No, that's disgusting."

"Then put him in solitary confinement."

"No, not either."

With a snap, Snape slammed the book shut, staring coldly at him. "You've really taken a liking to this?"

He sneered, "If you don't want to be punished, fine, but at midnight, at the Quidditch Pitch, you're not allowed to use that broken door panel of yours."

"No problem."

Tom agreed so quickly that Snape was taken aback.

By the time he realized what was happening, Tom had already vanished.

Tom spent the whole night frantically finishing his homework. To be precise, Andros wrote it out in the Study Space, which Tom copied, made slight modifications, and handed it in.

It's not that I don't want to write it myself, it's just that McGonagall's workload is so huge that writing it seriously would take a whole day.

He didn't want to waste this time, so he had no choice but to put in the hard work of the King of the Century.

A dignified ancient sage reduced to helping a first-grader copy homework; Gellert Grindelwald wanted to laugh but dared not, fearing it would be his turn next.

After finishing copying the last paper, Tom slipped out of the castle and headed straight for the Quidditch Pitch.

Midnight, Quidditch Pitch.

Snape stood in the center of the court, his black robes fluttering in the wind, his wand hanging at his side, the tip touching the ground.

Tom stood opposite him, his wand held up to his chest.

Snape moved first; a beam of red light shot out from the tip of his staff, fast and at a tricky angle.

Tom dodged to the side, simultaneously swinging his wand. A beam of silver light shot from the tip of the wand, striking Snape's shield and shattering it.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Much more powerful."

Tom remained calm and composed, preemptively stating, "The professor said that regardless of the outcome, the assignment is off the table."

Snape smirked. "Sure, Riddle, but you're not allowed to use those weird contraptions."

"Don't worry, I won't even need Transfiguration Spell."

Snape's smile vanished instantly, replaced by his usual icy expression.

In the last duel, Tom's Transfiguration gave him a lot of trouble. And now, after just one vacation, this kid dares to act all high and mighty?

He wanted to give this kid a reality check and show him what it means to be outmatched.

Snape gently raised his wrist, and a spell shot out.

Tom didn't speak. He waved his wand twice, and two beams of red light shot out simultaneously, one hitting his head and the other his foot.

Snape jumped up, Iron Armor Charm activated, but the force of the spell was terrifying, and Snape was forced to take several steps back.

"What's wrong with your magic?"

"You practiced during the holidays, Professor, and you've already fallen so far after just one holiday? This won't do." Tom's irritating tone emerged.

Tom's teasing words had barely faded when a barrage of spells rained down upon him.

He unleashed the most basic spells— Disarming Charm, Stunning Spell, and Impediment Jinx —with overwhelming force, forcing Snape into a complete rout, unable even to retaliate.

Tom was overjoyed and almost shouted, "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river!" But when he realized that only half a month had passed, he swallowed it back.

Snape raised his wand, and a black flame shot from the tip, transforming into a snake in mid-air. The snake opened its mouth and lunged at Tom.

Tom didn't dodge. He raised his wand, and a silver beam shot out from the tip, striking the snake's head. The snake exploded, and black flames scattered everywhere.

Snape's expression changed, and he raised his wand. A beam of green light shot out from the tip of the wand. It wasn't the Killing Curse, but some kind of magic that Tom had never seen before.

The light exploded in the air, turning into countless tiny needles that flew towards Tom.

Tom raised his wand, and a silver beam shot from its tip, forming a shield in front of him. The needles struck the shield, making a tinkling sound.

Snape's offensive grew increasingly fierce, unleashing spell after spell with almost no respite.

Tom blocked them all, then retaliated.

From the highest tower of the castle, Albus Dumbledore stood by the window, quietly watching the football field.

With the help of Eagle Eye, every detail of the battle was crystal clear.

"This aura? Is it the might of a dragon?"

Albus Dumbledore keen eye for talent and is arguably the most learned wizard in the world.