Introduce You to a Friend
In the afternoon, I made a special trip to Professor Sprout's greenhouse to subtly inquire about information Whomping Willow.
The result was nothing.
The Whomping Willow possesses both extremely high value and extreme danger; ordinary wizards dare not cultivate it and lack mature experience in its care.
This is also the core reason why there is only one of its kind in the entire Britain Wizarding World.
When conventional channels failed, Tom decisively activated Plan B – relying on his parents for financial support.
He sent a direct message to Nicolas Flamel.
Tom: Teacher, I have thoroughly understood the properties of the Whomping Willow.
It's compatible with a variety of alchemical material substitutes, making it extremely practical. However, the current bottleneck is the availability of raw materials.
[Nicolas Flamel: Lacking Whomping Willow?]
Tom: Teacher, you're brilliant! There's only one tree in the whole school, I wouldn't dare to pluck too many.
If they really plucked me bald, Professor Sprout would fight me to the death on the spot. I can only trouble you now.
Actually, it could be done by asking Mrs. Greengrass for help, but that would inevitably leave you in a very difficult position.
On the other hand, Nicolas Flamel had been following his magic popularization plan all along, so helping out was just going with the flow; the other party would only be happy to see it succeed.
[Nicolas Flamel: A small matter, how many are needed?]
[Tom: At least twenty mature plants. Seedlings are fine too. I have masters of both Potions and herbalism, so cultivating them to maturity shouldn't be difficult, it just takes some time.]
[Nicolas Flamel: Adult Whomping Willow are hard to find. I have many old friends in the African Black Region; I'll help you inquire and search.]
Tom had been eyeing this for a long time.
The African Black Region is a veritable treasure trove of magic, home to countless scarce resources and rare materials, and its wealth far surpasses that of the British Wizarding World.
Even Gringotts has its headquarters in Egypt, which is truly a resource-rich region.
To possess a treasure trove but fail to develop it is a blatant waste of resources.
[Nicolas Flamel: By the way, come over for Christmas. I'll introduce you to some old friends.]
[Tom:?]
[Nicolas Flamel: Either a master alchemist with top-notch skills, or a prominent figure in the Wizarding World of various countries.]
Your plan to popularize magic is a massive undertaking; with these people's endorsement and support, the subsequent progress will be much smoother.
[Tom: Got it! Could you please invite Mr. Scamander along too? I was planning to visit him specifically for Christmas.]
[Nicolas Flamel: Newt Scamander, I haven't seen you in a long time, but there's a bit of trouble.]
The French Ministry of Magic had reservations about him, mainly because he carried that chest full of Fantastic Beasts everywhere he went, making it virtually impossible for him to travel alone.
[Nicolas Flamel: I'll try my best, but don't get your hopes up too high. If it really doesn't work out, I'll take you to United States after the semester starts so we can meet again.]
In Nicolas Flamel's eyes, who had lived for hundreds of years, Hogwarts ' courses and academics were unimportant, and missing classes for important matters was no big deal.
Tom took the opportunity to ask about various research problems he had accumulated recently, and only disconnected the communication after the conversation was over.
He sent Aberforth another message urging him to update him on the progress, but the result was still a perfunctory, template reply, so Tom simply stopped paying attention to him.
As a new week begins, the temperature at Hogwarts plummets, with continuous rain.
The sudden temperature change and excessive humidity caused a large number of young wizards to catch colds, and the Hospital Wing was completely full.
Madam Pomfrey was extremely busy, administering Invigoration Draught to every student who came for treatment.
The medicine worked immediately, and the listless students were instantly revitalized.
The only side effect is that white smoke will continuously emanate from the ears for several hours after taking the medication, and the entire castle will be shrouded in smoke, resembling a fairyland.
Even the worst weather couldn't dampen the training enthusiasm on the field.
After Halloween, the first Quidditch match of the season will be between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and the two teams are sure to be locked in a fierce battle.
Fred and George secretly squatted by the field every day, observing Slytherin's newly acquired Nimbus 2001 team outfits, and the more they looked, the more uneasy they became.
The equipment gap is comparable to Muggle world where a 960 graphics card tries to compete with a 5080; they're not even in the same league.
Now, Gryffindor's only hope for a comeback rests on Harry.
Harry must catch the Golden Snitch before the score difference widens to 150 points to have any chance of winning.
The pressure was put directly on Harry, and Wood's training requirements became increasingly stringent, with all tactics and training plans revolving around Harry.
On the other hand, Tom unlocked a completely new playing style for the Slytherin team.
Iron Mountain Lean, sidestep feints, and shoulder shaking movements—the moves are flashy and unorthodox, but the main focus is on a lack of martial ethics.
Don't ask if it's despicable; the answer is simply to make good use of the rules. A foul might result in free throws, but in competitive sports, winning is the only thing that matters.
Tom and Daphne had just stepped out of the Potions Classroom when they bumped into Astoria at the corner of the stairs.
The usually obedient and clingy little girl turned and ran away as soon as she saw the two of them today, completely flustered.
Tom strode forward, reached out and precisely grabbed the back of her collar, pulling her back with his arms.
Astoria's little face scrunched up, her eyes slightly reddened, and she pitifully pouted.
"Tom... that preventative Potions is too bitter, I really can't drink it."
"You have to swallow the bitterness." Tom ruffled her soft hair, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"It's much better than being bedridden with a cold. Daphne, she's in your hands now. Make sure she takes her medicine on time every day and doesn't slack off."
"Hehe, little brat, you're in my hands now!"
Daphne instantly transformed into a little devil, laughing as she grabbed Astoria, who was trying to struggle and escape, and forcibly dragged her downstairs to drink her medicine.
Tom shook his head and chuckled helplessly.
Astoria has a weak constitution, and with the recent flu outbreak on campus, Tom specially concocted a powerful preventative Potions to prevent her from getting infected.
Unfortunately, the taste of this medicine is absolutely hellish, ridiculously awful.
Don't even mention adding sugar or milk; even if you mix it with heavily oiled and salted twice-cooked pork or spicy diced chicken, it still won't be as bad as it used to be.
That's why the little girl tried every day to find ways to escape the medicine.
Today, Tom decided to harden his heart and force Daphne to carry out the entire process.
After watching the two walk away, Tom turned and went up the other staircase, arriving at Professor McGonagall's office door.
He waited quietly for five minutes. When Professor McGonagall returned from class and bumped into Tom at the door, a clear look of surprise flashed in her eyes.
"Mr. Riddle, is there something you need from me?"
Tom looked up, and said calmly, "Professor, I have independently developed a new type of Potions and would like to submit it for publication in ' Transfiguration Today '."
Professor McGonagall's face showed a rare moment of bewilderment, and she even began to doubt whether there was something wrong with her ears.
Did she hear that right? Riddle said he created a Potions and was planning to submit his paper to "Transfiguration Today"?
After a two-second silence, McGonagall tried to soften her tone and offer a gentle reminder.
"Oh, I see. Why didn't you go to Professor Snape? He'll be stationed in the Great Hall for a while; he's the right person to contact for Potions- related submissions."