Success

However, that was not an option for the time being. Setting aside whether he could actually defeat the upperclassmen, if he truly did that, Albus Dumbledore would likely summon him for a "heart-to-heart" talk.

For now, it was best to keep a low profile and focus on development.

"Reflect on your actions. I'm going to eat." Tom patted Zabini on the shoulder once more before turning to walk out of the dormitory.

The room fell into a deathly silence. Rosier and Nott glared viciously at Zabini; had they not still been aching from their injuries, they likely would have attacked him.

The two let out a simultaneous cold snort, burrowed into their blankets, and couldn't be bothered to acknowledge him.

Zabini felt completely uneasy. He silently left the dormitory and sat in the common room, staring blankly into space.

He didn't feel he had done anything wrong. If he hadn't sold out his teammates, he would have been the one getting beaten. What was the point of holding out?

He didn't know that Rosier's anger was purely because he had been betrayed, while Nott's fury stemmed more from the fact that Zabini had surrendered before him, causing him to take an extra beating.

An invisible rift had quietly appeared between the three of them, one that would never heal.

The next day, Tom's "dormitory education" began to show results.

Zabini and the others still woke up earlier than him, but they didn't dare breathe too loudly, remaining quiet and still for fear of displeasing him.

After breakfast, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw first-years walked into the Charms Class together.

Professor Flitwick, who taught the course, had goblin ancestry. He was very short but a master of his craft; it was said he had won a dueling championship in his youth.

I suspect he only had the advantage because his small size made him agile and hard to hit with spells, Tom muttered to himself. Regardless of his private complaints, Flitwick's teaching was undeniably excellent.

Throughout the entire lesson, he didn't rush to teach specific spells, instead explaining their practical uses in daily life and demonstrating them on the spot.

The variety of magic made the young wizards' eyes light up. Only after their enthusiasm had been piqued did he slowly begin to cover the basics: wand grips, incantation gestures, and techniques for channeling power.

By the end of the class, Tom had earned twenty house points, though unfortunately, they were all knowledge points from answering questions, which didn't contribute to the Slytherin House Cup. It was a bit of a pity.

The afternoon was Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class all the first-years were looking forward to—except for Tom.

He knew Quirrell was unreliable; attending this class was a complete waste of time.

Quirrell, however, was exceptionally expectant—or more accurately, the Voldemort on the back of his head was.

The Dark Lord wanted a close look at Harry Potter—the boy who lived—as well as Tom Riddle, who shared his own name.

As soon as Quirrell entered the classroom, the whole room reeked of garlic. He explained that garlic warded off vampires, and the turban on his head was a gift from an African prince for driving away a ghoul.

The other young wizards believed him, but Tom nearly burst out laughing. He raised his hand slowly, stretching his arm high.

"R-Riddle?" Quirrell asked, stuttering. "Do you have a question?" He was suffering internally; Voldemort was roaring in his mind, as that surname always reminded the Dark Lord of his own origins.

Tom stood up and asked with feigned sincerity, "Professor, I've read in books that garlic wards off vampires, but this is Hogwarts, and Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of the century. What kind of vampire would dare come here to provoke you?"

The classroom erupted into laughter, and the young wizards nodded in agreement. Even the Muggle-born students knew that Albus Dumbledore was the pillar of the wizarding world.

Quirrell's face turned beet red as he scrambled to make amends. "I-I'm afraid they might cast a curse! Never underestimate the danger of dark creatures!"

He quickly added points to compensate, "That is an excellent question. Five points to Slytherin!"

"Thank you, Professor." Tom sat back down, secretly pleased. As expected, Quirrell only uses house points to smooth things over. It would be a waste not to fleece him.

For the rest of the lesson, Quirrell read straight from the textbook, merely rephrasing the words on the page without even a single demonstration. The young wizards were all disappointed, yawning incessantly.

When the bell rang, Tom saw Malfoy arguing with Harry again.

That guy had eyes only for Harry, finding trouble with him every single day, which actually caused him to forget about Tom, the "heretic." It saved Tom a lot of trouble.

The following days were peaceful for Tom. Aside from attending classes, he spent his time maneuvering between two young witches: Hermione, who always dragged him to the library or to practice magic, and Daphne, who pulled him around the castle, claiming they were exploring secrets. Other than them, Tom had no other friends.

The Slytherins thought he was low-born, and the other houses thought he was a Slytherin. He was truly one of a kind in Slytherin.

Tom secretly shifted the blame: besides the snobbish little snakes, Snape had to take half the credit.

In just a few days, Slytherin's house points were far in the lead—not because they earned many points, but because Snape was ruthless in deducting points from others.

Tom had seen with his own eyes how Snape deducted two points from two Ravenclaw girls simply because they were walking too fast.

Hermione was so angry her face turned red, and she whispered, "How can he be like this! Using a magnifying glass to pick out faults in other houses!"

Daphne replied with a sarcastic tone, "At least our professor only uses a magnifying glass and doesn't fabricate things out of thin air."

Tom nodded inwardly. That's a very Slytherin thing to say. Snape's deductions were always based on logic, even if they were entirely optional.

He knew clearly that those two girls had likely taken the fall for him; Snape had been looking at him with irritation just moments before.

"If you two keep arguing, I'm going to starve to death," Tom said helplessly. The two of them had been bickering for days, arguing over the smallest trifles for ages.

"Come on, Tom. We have Astronomy tonight, eat more," Daphne said, pulling Tom toward the long table. Hermione bit her lip, turned, and headed to the Gryffindor table.

That night, Tom accompanied his classmates in using telescopes to record the names of a dozen stars, only leaving the tower in exhaustion late at night.

Back in the dormitory, Zabini and the others were already fast asleep. Tom cast a Sleeping Charm on them, donned a Disillusionment Charm, and set off for his first night stroll at Hogwarts!

There was an old saying at Hogwarts: a student's career is incomplete without a night stroll.

On the surface, the school had rules, but the older students understood that breaking the rules wasn't the problem—getting caught was the real misfortune.

Tom's night stroll wasn't an act of rebellion; he was here to grind achievement points. The system had only issued the "Win the House Cup" quest, but the achievement list had already been unlocked.

He discovered that achievement points were easy to farm in the early stages. Just by attending classes, answering questions, and occasionally walking around with Daphne, he had already accumulated one hundred and fifty points.

The achievement list included the "Nighttime Castle Roaming" series; the more one wandered, the more points one earned. Tom was here today to "stock up."

Andros was resistant to Dark Magic and lacked talent for it, so Tom wanted to save up a thousand points to summon a King of the Century proficient in Dark Magic as his teacher.

After leaving the Slytherin common room, Tom strolled slowly down the corridor. The wall sconces flickered, providing the perfect opportunity to practice the Disillusionment Charm.

The Disillusionment Charm did not grant true invisibility; its principle was the same as a chameleon's, relying on altering one's own reflection to blend into the surroundings.

In a stable environment, the Disillusionment Charm was not easily exposed, but areas with shifting light and shadow were a true test of one's skill.

The corridor was quiet at night, with the shadows of ghosts occasionally flitting by. Tom adjusted his color contrast using the play of light and shadow until his figure finally merged almost completely with the hallway.