Defeated, Yet Still Talking Tough

After surviving the ordeal, they were all still shaken.

Ron panted as he asked, "Where did you come from just now? How come we didn't see you?"

Hermione hurriedly tugged at him. "Don't ask! Filch might still be nearby. We'll talk tomorrow. Hurry back!"

"Fine. See you tomorrow." Tom waved and turned to slip away, moving even faster than he had while Filch was chasing him.

Ron could only swallow his many questions. The four of them raced back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry gave the password, and they hurried inside and returned to their dormitory.

Harry tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. The night's events played over and over in his mind.

Malfoy's dirty trick, Filch chasing them down, the terror of the Three-headed Dog—and finally, Tom standing in front of them and slinging spells. A wave of dejection washed over Harry.

Everyone called him the Chosen One, but compared to Tom, he was useless.

He'd never even heard of those powerful spells, while Tom could cast them with ease. They were both first-years, so how could the gap between them be so huge?

In the Slytherin dormitory beneath the castle, Tom was reviewing the night's events too, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction.

The Three-headed Dog had thick hide and high resistance to both physical and magical attacks. Many adult wizards' spells seemed to do little more than tickle it.

With his Absolute Justice talent and a short burst of magic, he should have handled the fight more easily. The results had been underwhelming, all because the huge dog's stench had disgusted him.

The smell in that enclosed corridor had hit him right in the face, seriously distracting him.

"Looks like I need to practice casting spells in unpleasant conditions." Tom added a line to his training plan, regulated his breathing, and fell asleep.

Not long after they had left, Albus Dumbledore appeared in the corridor wearing pajamas and a cone-shaped nightcap.

He checked the Three-headed Dog's injuries, exchanged a few words with the nearby portrait, then sighed in admiration. "The younger generation is formidable."

History of Magic was Tom's least favorite class, bar none.

Other classes could earn him House Points or system credits. Even with Quirrell slacking off every day, Tom could wait for him after class and earn extra credit.

But Professor Binns, that ghostly old man, merely read from his notes in class. What he taught was useless, the system judged it worthless, and he never gave students a chance to answer questions. There was no way to earn points.

The class was a complete waste of time.

As soon as the bell rang, Tom rested his head on his desk. He looked half asleep, but in reality, he had entered the Study Space to learn new spells from Andros.

When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Professor Binns assigned homework without changing his expression, then floated through the wall back to his office. The students trudged miserably toward the Great Hall.

As soon as Tom reached the Entrance Hall, Hermione stopped him. She glanced at the passing crowd and lowered her voice. "Too many people around. Let's talk in the courtyard garden."

Tom didn't object. Daphne wanted to come along, but Hermione stopped her.

The little witch was about to lose her temper when Tom spoke first, his tone lazy and gently coaxing. "Daphne, what we're about to discuss involves someone else's secret. Go wait for me in the Great Hall. I'll be right there."

Daphne nodded reluctantly, shot Hermione a glare, and walked into the Great Hall in a huff.

Tom followed Hermione to the courtyard garden. Harry and Ron had already claimed a stone table, with snacks laid out on top.

Once they were seated, Harry spoke first, a little awkwardly. "Riddle, thanks for yesterday. I didn't have anything to give you, so I brought some snacks."

Tom nodded, picked up a Chocolate Frog, bit off its head, and said indistinctly, "What are you thanking me for? I was saving myself too. It's not like I could just wait for the big dog to eat me."

Harry gave an awkward laugh. "Either way, things would've been awful without you."

"Don't keep going on about it. That's behind us." Tom waved a hand and picked up a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean.

Ron couldn't help asking, "What were you really doing out of bed last night? You couldn't have been breaking the rules for the same reason we were, could you?"

"Reading," Tom said matter-of-factly. "I wanted to look something up, but I didn't have the material on hand, so I went to the library. Got a problem with that?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. As two lousy students, they couldn't understand risking getting caught by Filch just to read.

They didn't know that Tom had already worked it all out. I'm lying to you. I was waiting for you, just so I could go to the Third Floor Corridor in broad daylight.

He'd bet a Galleon that there were protective spells from Dumbledore on that door. If he went alone, he'd be watched. But if he "wandered in by accident" with Harry and the others, the risk would be much lower.

And he'd gotten quite a lot out of it. He'd tested his spells on the Three-headed Dog and earned twenty achievement points. A huge win.

"What about you? Why were you wandering around in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?" Tom asked, pretending not to know.

Harry and Ron were still hesitating, but Hermione had already told him the whole story: they'd arranged to duel Malfoy and been tricked.

"That was pretty shameless." Tom clicked his tongue. His words immediately brought them closer, and Harry and Ron wore matching looks of indignation.

"You bet it was!" Ron slapped the table. "When Malfoy saw us alive this morning, his eyes were as big as saucers, and his mouth was wide enough to fit two and a half eggs!"

"Next time I see him, I'm going to punch him!"

"Beating people up is against the rules," Tom drawled, reminding him in the most annoying tone possible.

Ron wasn't having it. "You're just taking Slytherin's side!"

"Weasley, are you missing a screw?" Hermione shot back. "If Tom were on Malfoy's side, he'd have locked you in that corridor yesterday and let the Three-headed Dog eat you!"

Ron had no answer. He turned away, and the mood grew awkward.

Chewing a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean, Tom spoke nonchalantly. "Of course I'm on Slytherin's side, just like you're on Gryffindor's."

"But I can't stand underhanded schemes. I judge people by their actions, not their house, and Malfoy was definitely out of line this time."

"If you want revenge, I'll support you and help come up with a plan. But punching him is the lamest thing you could do. Snape would be the one laughing. He'd love to catch you doing something wrong and punish Potter."

Harry's expression changed abruptly. The person he hated most right now was Snape, followed by Malfoy, with Dudley in third place.

Just thinking of Snape's gloomy face made him shudder.

"Then what do you think we should do to get back at him?" Harry asked tentatively, still wary.

Tom made it sound simple. "Easy. Just spread the story around."

"Do you think we're stupid?" Ron nearly leapt to his feet. "If we tell people, Professor McGonagall will keep us in detention until the holidays!"

"That's not true!" Hermione glared at him. "Professor McGonagall would never do that!"

Harry looked at Tom suspiciously too. "Are you trying to trick us into losing Gryffindor House Points?"

"How can you suspect an innocent person?" Tom pressed a hand to his chest, looking "wounded."

His voice turned a little aggrieved. "I just can't stand Malfoy acting so high and mighty. I'm Muggle-born, and you have no idea how hard it is for me in Slytherin. Those Pure-bloods mock me every day. I hate him just as much as you do."

Only then did Harry and Ron remember that Tom was an orphan born to Muggle parents. He must have had a hard time in Slytherin. Their expressions softened at once, though they still thought his plan sounded unreliable.