Good Old Uncle Newt

Snape almost laughed in anger. How many papers had he published as the first author? Did he really care about a second author?

Well, he still cared a little. He realized that if Tom's idea was correct, it would be a groundbreaking paper, contributing to Potions no less than any major discovery.

Tom is the first author, and he's listed second; there's nothing shameful about that.

"I'll check it out." Snape put the paper away, his tone flat, but Tom detected a hint of suppressed anger in his voice.

Snape knew perfectly well that the kid was dumping all the tedious experimental work on him, but he still accepted it.

Snape used Doubling Charm to make a backup and handed the original back to Tom. "If there are no problems, you can join the Extraordinary Potioneers Association with this paper alone, becoming a full member immediately."

Tom paused for a moment. "The Extraordinary Potioneers Association?"

"The top Potions organization in the Wizarding World." Snape's tone was very calm.

"To put it bluntly, this is a large academic clique that monopolizes a large amount of innovative Potions knowledge. Want to learn advanced stuff?"

"Join us. Want to publish groundbreaking papers? Join us. Want to use our research findings? Pay up."

Tom blinked. "Isn't this just the Wizarding World's patent office and trade association?"

Snape ignored his complaints. "An eleven-year-old full member, unprecedented."

Even Snape was proud to join, Tom naturally wouldn't refuse such a good thing as improving his academic standing. He moved closer and grinned slyly.

"Professor, do you think I can get Special Contribution to the School Award based on this paper?"

Snape's eyes lit up immediately. The Special Contribution to the School Award —if he got that, wouldn't Slytherin gain hundreds of points? Wouldn't a seventh consecutive Slytherin title be a sure thing? He was already calculating the points in his head.

"I'll get things done for you," Snape's voice rose a half-tone, "And finalize it as soon as possible."

"Don't rush, don't rush, Professor, we can do it like this..." Tom whispered a few words in his ear.

Snape's expression shifted from strange to resigned, but he finally nodded. "We'll do as you say."

He leaned back in his chair, looked at Tom, and a twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth. "Riddle, you're a born Slytherin."

"Professor, don't think I can't tell you're insulting me."

Tom stood up, secretly made a Muggle- style funny face, and turned to leave.

Snape didn't understand the gesture, but his intuition told him it wasn't a good thing.

Good things come in pairs; Newt Scamander's reply arrived the very next day.

Tom was bringing his milk glass to his lips when the owl delivered the message.

A grey-brown barn owl flapped its wings and precisely tossed a letter into its milk.

Milk splashed out, splattering all over Tom's face. Zabini tried to suppress a laugh, Nott handed him a napkin.

Tom wiped the milk off his face, picked up the envelope, and saw the signature— Newt Scamander Scamander.

He almost jumped out of his chair.

Upon opening the envelope, the letter paper was pale yellow with slightly curled edges. The handwriting was old-fashioned, but every stroke was clearly written.

"It's a pleasure to meet such a talented student as you who has such a great passion for Fantastic Beasts."

When I received your letter, I had just rescued a pair of pale banshees; this must be good luck you brought me."

Tom's lips curled up slightly. Old Man Newt Scamander was being too polite; he was the one helping someone, yet he insisted that someone else had brought him good luck.

"Fantastic Beasts all possess a spirit. I don't believe I've ever captured any Fantastic Beasts; I can only offer some advice based on my experience."

Tom read on attentively; this was what he wanted—not to show off how great he was, but to genuinely teach people.

"First, as men, approaching unicorns is a significant hurdle. Please note that you must make eye contact with unicorns frequently; they can sense your malice through your eyes."

"If you harbor ill intentions, they will flee immediately and never appear before you again."

Tom thought about the times he had stared at unicorns. Male unicorns would glare at him and then walk away, female unicorns would glance at him and then run off, only baby unicorns were willing to stare at him for a few more seconds.

He meant no harm, but his eyes held the cold indifference of someone who had slain a dragon. Could a unicorn distinguish between malice and indifference?

"Secondly, these are the foods unicorns love most. I have a few recipes here; if you follow them, they'll be more willing to approach you."

Attached to the bottom of the letter was a list of ingredients and instructions for making the dish. Tom glanced at it and saw that it was all high-end stuff.

Moonstone Powder, silver powder, dried golden acorns, unicorn fur—where can you find this stuff?

But he still wrote it down carefully; Newt Scamander's recipe was better than figuring it out on his own.

"Thirdly, the instinct of all animals is to evolve towards greater strength. If you can find a way to transform the unicorn, perhaps you can gain its allegiance. Your loyal servant, Newt Scamander Scamander."

Tom read the line three times: to transform the unicorn, not to tame it, not to control it, but to help it become stronger.

Unicorns are already advanced Magical Creatures, so what could they transform into? A word popped into his mind—divine beast.

Tom felt a warmth in his heart. Uncle Newt Scamander was truly kind; the two had never met before, yet he had written so carefully and even included an exclusive recipe. His honesty made Tom feel a little embarrassed.

These details weren't mentioned in the book, which explains why the little unicorn always dawdled over the food he gave it; it turned out it didn't like it and could only barely stomach it.

He folded the letter and put it in his pocket, then placed an order with Diagon Alley that same day for all the ingredients from Newt Scamander's cookbook.

Then ask Daphne to have her House-elf, Parla, help her. Parla has already learned Hannah's skills, and although she's not quite up to Mrs Abbott's level, she's more than capable of baking.

Sure enough, the little unicorn ate happily. Before, when Tom gave it herbs, it ate them like medicine, barely managing to swallow them.

Now, when she eats the cookies Parla makes, her tail starts wagging, and her big, adorable eyes look at Tom with more affection.

Every time Tom went to the Forbidden Forest, it would peek out from behind the bushes, its silvery-white fur shimmering in the sunlight.

The closest distance between the two has been reduced from three meters to two meters.

Two large unicorns arrived, and Tom, imitating Newt Scamander, made eye contact with them, each time for a short while before moving on.

He harbored no ill intentions, so he had a clear conscience. The two female unicorns gradually lowered their guard, and instead of running away at the sight of him, they stood at a distance and watched him without running away.

The male unicorn remained the same; Tom ignored it.