Tom was in a good mood, so he didn't mind offering her a few pointers. "The more impatient you are, the harder it gets. The more pressure you put on yourself, the less likely you are to succeed. Don't treat casting like factory work. Every spell depends on talent, so just relax."
He paused, then added something silly. "Just think of yourself as the toothpick's master. If you tell it to turn into a needle, then it has to turn into a needle. What kind of master doesn't keep their word?"
Daphne, standing nearby, quickly took a couple of deep breaths and followed Tom's advice, naturally swishing her wand.
A flash of silver light—and the toothpick really did change. It turned into a silver toothpick. It could just about pass for a needle, too. Aside from not being able to thread it, the shape was pretty close.
Even so, Daphne was so excited she nearly jumped for joy.
"I did it, Tom! You're amazing!" Daphne's success earned Slytherin another point.
Unfortunately, Tom hadn't earned it himself, so the system didn't award him any study points. Still, it was enough to leave Hermione feeling frustrated. Ever competitive, she stopped talking to Tom and bent over her work, practicing in silence.
At last, before class ended, Hermione managed to change the toothpick, turning it into a gleaming silver-colored needle. It was still made of wood, though.
Even so, Professor McGonagall was quite pleased and awarded Gryffindor a point as well.
Just then, a loud BANG suddenly rang out, startling Professor McGonagall. This was Transfiguration, not Defense Against the Dark Arts. Why was something exploding?
She spotted the culprits at once: Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom stared at each other, both of them sporting frizzled hair that was blackened and curled from the blast. The toothpicks on their desk had turned into charred lumps.
Professor McGonagall's face darkened like the bottom of a pot. Gritting her teeth, she immediately took a point from Gryffindor and dismissed the class.
Tom secretly laughed to himself. Hogwarts really was full of hidden talents. Not only did it have a jinchuriki like me, but it also had a blast-release expert like Seamus. Absolutely terrifying!
When the bell rang, Daphne had planned to leave with Tom, but Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson stopped her before she could catch up. She could only watch as Hermione led Tom off to the library.
"Greengrass, aren't you ashamed of yourself, hanging around with a Muggle-born wizard?" Pansy said, her face full of disapproval and contempt practically dripping from her voice.
"Exactly!" Bulstrode chimed in. "Does being good-looking put food on the table? You can't change your lowly blood. Just wait. Nott and the others will have him eating out of their hands in a few days."
"Who I make friends with is none of your business. Take care of yourselves first." With Tom gone, Daphne's haughty temper came out in full force. She didn't even spare them a proper glance. "Parkinson, pick the spinach out of your teeth before you speak. Looking at it makes me sick."
She glanced at Bulstrode, her tone even more disdainful. "And you. You didn't move your toothpick once the entire class, yet you think you can judge Tom's bloodline? You're an embarrassment to Pure-bloods."
With that, Daphne didn't even bother looking at their faces as they turned red, then pale. She simply turned and walked away.
The Greengrass Family had enough standing to let her ignore Bulstrode and Parkinson. Even if they were all among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, there was nothing either of them could do if she didn't want to give them the time of day.
Daphne had originally planned to catch up with Tom, but she didn't want to be around Hermione, so she simply headed back to the dormitory to write home.
Meanwhile, Tom had followed Hermione to Hogwarts' "Dragon Field"—the library.
Back in the day, Tom had relied on the books here to learn crucial spells and build a solid foundation, which was what allowed him to soar after graduation.
He wasn't the only one. Many wizards had benefited greatly from the library. The little their teachers taught them was enough to get them through school, but if they really wanted to learn unusual spells, they had to dig through the books themselves. That was what made the difference between wizards of equal talent.
Some people wrung every bit of potential from themselves, while others wasted most of it. Naturally, people ended up with very different fates.
Madam Pince, the librarian, had eyes like a hawk. Anyone who dared speak loudly or mistreat a book in the library would immediately receive her deadly glare.
Hermione took a book titled Detailed Explanation of Elementary Transfiguration Splitting and began reading quietly.
Tom sat opposite her with three books in his arms, immediately drawing Madam Pince's attention.
But Tom wanted to fill his Study Space with books, and he didn't have time to worry about Madam Pince's expression. He flipped through a few pages of each book, checked that it could be added to his collection, then put it back on the shelf.
When he picked up his thirteenth book, Madam Pince finally couldn't take it anymore. She came over with the feather duster she'd been using to clean the shelves and asked in a low voice, "Child, what exactly are you looking for?"
Tom blinked at her with feigned confusion, wearing an innocent expression. "I don't know what I'm looking for, so I'm flipping through everything. Is there a problem?"
Madam Pince took a deep breath, suppressing her exasperation. "No, but don't disturb the others."
"Thank you, Madam. I understand." Tom nodded, then immediately went back to flipping through books.
He wasn't making a racket or tearing pages. If that was enough to disturb people, they might as well stop coming to the library and find a detention room to sit in. That was the quietest place of all.
As for Madam Pince's displeasure, he didn't give it a second thought.
Tom privately suspected Madam Pince was probably a Squib, just like Filch.
The original story hadn't mentioned her using magic in all seven years, and when he'd glanced at her just now, he hadn't seen a wand on her.
Dumbledore really had a lot of faith, leaving a Squib to guard so many treasures in the library. Wasn't he worried things might go missing?
As soon as it turned twelve, Tom pulled Hermione out of the library. "What book were you trying to find?" Hermione couldn't hold back any longer and asked him about his puzzling behavior.
"I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I was just browsing, getting a feel for what each book was about so it'd be easier to find things later." Tom brushed her off casually.
Hermione's eyes lit up. She thought it was a solid approach and immediately decided to try it herself that afternoon.
As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione turned toward the Gryffindor table. Tom had just sat down at the Slytherin table when an older boy came over. He was a sixth-year Slytherin Prefect, and Tom vaguely remembered him.
"Riddle, Professor Snape wants you to see him after class this afternoon. His office is in the basement, next to the Potions Classroom."
"Got it." Tom nodded, his gaze drifting toward Zabini and the other two nearby.
Rosier didn't look away when he caught Tom's eye. He gave him a nasty grin and made a throat-slitting gesture, openly taunting him.
Tom smiled, looking completely harmless, but he was secretly delighted. Great. I'll get to stretch my muscles tonight and beat someone up to pass the time. I was getting bored.
Professor Snape's summons did nothing to dampen Tom's good mood. After lunch, he even went back to the dormitory for a nap, and didn't wander lazily toward the greenhouses until it was almost time for Herbology.
Before you continue