Elder Brother?

According to Andros, Tom had already grasped the shallow essence of magic; while not exactly formidable, he was still far ahead of his peers.

He didn't need to memorize spells by rote or practice them repeatedly; relying on that bit of insight, he learned everything half a beat faster than anyone else.

This wasn't just bragging, either—take Gobstones, for instance.

Daphne had practiced for three days and still kept flicking the stones off-target, but Tom grasped the essence within two minutes, flicking with such precision and force that he left Daphne whimpering in frustration.

"Tom, you're cheating! You must have practiced in secret!" Daphne huffed, slamming her pink Gobstone onto the board.

The moment it hit, the stone sprayed a foul-smelling liquid all over her face, nearly making her cry. "This stupid stone is in on it with you!"

Tom, chewing on a candy, nonchalantly flicked the stone back into the pit with his wand and flashed a cheeky grin.

"My fault? Who told you to be so clumsy you can't even handle a stone? How about you beg me, and I'll teach you a trick or two?"

"I won't beg you!" Daphne grabbed her deodorizing spray and blasted her face, her words tough, though her eyes kept darting toward Tom's hand.

She truly envied Tom's accuracy; if she could be that good, she wouldn't have to be bullied by the stones.

As the two were bickering, a shadow suddenly fell over the board.

Tom looked up to see Malfoy standing before them with Goyle and Crabbe, wearing an expression that practically begged for a punch.

Goyle still had half a Chocolate Frog stuffed in his mouth, crumbs clinging to the corners of his lips.

"Riddle, feeling pretty relaxed, aren't you?" Malfoy crossed his arms, his nose practically pointed at the ceiling.

"I thought you were so busy, but it turns out you're just hiding here playing house with a little witch."

Daphne immediately bristled, grabbing her wand to snap back, but Tom pressed his hand down on hers.

Tom finished chewing his candy at a leisurely pace, spat out the wrapper, and looked up with a lazy, devil-may-care glint in his eyes.

"Malfoy, are you bored? Can't you see I'm busy entertaining a beauty? Be smart and get lost."

"You!" Malfoy's face flushed red with rage. He had come to stir up trouble, never expecting Tom to disregard him so completely.

"Riddle, don't push your luck! Do you really think we're afraid of you?"

"Afraid of you?" Tom let out a scoff, slumping back into his chair as he spun his wand expertly between his fingers. "What, is your skin itching for a beating?"

Seeing this, Goyle immediately swallowed the Chocolate Frog in his mouth, rolled up his sleeves, and prepared to charge. "Draco, stop wasting time with him, let's beat him up!"

Crabbe nodded in agreement, but just as he raised his wand, Tom flicked his wrist. Two beams of white light shot out, instantly freezing the pair in place like two wooden stakes.

Malfoy stepped back in alarm, though he forced a look of composure. "Riddle, you dare start a fight in the common room? Aren't you afraid of being caught by the prefects?"

"Prefects?" Tom laughed as if he'd heard the greatest joke in the world, slapping his thigh.

"You're bringing up prefects to me? Since when have the Slytherin prefects ever bothered with trivial matters? Besides, even if they did come, I could just have them join you in detention."

As he spoke, he flicked his wand, and Malfoy's feet suddenly slid out from under him, sending him crashing onto his backside with a painful grunt.

Daphne clapped her hands, laughing from the sidelines. "Serves you right! That's for your big mouth!"

Malfoy scrambled up, trembling with rage, but he didn't dare charge again.

He knew Tom's methods; if a real fight broke out, he, Goyle, and Crabbe combined wouldn't be a match for him.

Yet, he couldn't bear the humiliation of slinking away.

"What? Still not convinced?" Tom raised an eyebrow and stood up, pointing his wand at Malfoy.

"Fine, since you're looking for a beating, I'll oblige. But let's get one thing straight: after I'm done, don't go crying to your father. I find it annoying."

Before Malfoy could spit out a threat, a spell from Tom struck his arm, making him howl in pain.

Goyle and Crabbe shrank back, not daring to breathe; this guy's methods were too ruthless, even more torturous than Snape's lines.

Before long, Malfoy was hunched on the floor, clutching his arm and whimpering.

Tom crouched down, poked his head with his wand, and said spitefully, "Do you know you were wrong? Will you dare bother me again?"

"I was wrong, I was wrong! I won't dare again!"

Malfoy nodded frantically; he was truly terrified. If this continued, his arm would surely break.

Tom stood up with satisfaction, brushed the dust off his trousers, and tossed another candy to Daphne. "Let's go. Ignore these three idiots, let's keep playing Gobstones."

Daphne caught the candy and nodded with a smile, making a face at Malfoy before they left. Malfoy stomped his feet in fury, but he didn't dare follow them—he really couldn't beat Tom.

Just as Tom and Daphne were getting back into their game, footsteps echoed at the entrance of the common room.

Looking up, they saw the sixth-year prefect, Stephen Avery, followed by two other prefects, their faces dark enough to drip water.

Clearly, the commotion had been too loud and had finally drawn the prefects' attention.

Avery stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Tom. "Riddle, you've got some nerve! Daring to start a fight in the common room—do you really think we prefects are just for show?"

Tom glanced at him, slowly putting away his Gobstones with a provocative smile on his face.

"Prefects? Oh, I wondered who it was—it's just Avery. I thought it was someone important; you gave me quite a scare."

"You!" Avery's forehead throbbed with veins. He had been a prefect in Slytherin for two years and had never been so disrespected by a first-year student.

"Riddle, I order you as a prefect: apologize to Malfoy immediately and copy the school rules one hundred times, or I'll deduct points from Slytherin!"

"Deduct them, then." Tom shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

"Besides, Slytherin's points can always be earned back. But what about you, Avery? How long were you standing at the door watching?"

"When I was beating up Malfoy, why didn't you come out to stop me?"

Avery choked. He had indeed been watching the spectacle from the doorway for a while, intending to wait until Tom was finished before stepping in to put on a show of authority, but he hadn't expected Tom to call him out on the spot.

The two prefects nearby also looked awkward, standing where they were, at a loss for what to do.

"Enough talk!" Avery forced himself to remain calm and raised his wand. "This is my final warning: apologize and accept your lines immediately, or I will take action against you!"

"Take action?" Tom acted as if he had just heard the funniest joke of the century, laughing until he couldn't straighten his back. Only after he finished laughing did he slowly raise his wand.

"Avery, have you lost your mind? With your pathetic skills, you dare to take action against me? I suggest you get lost before you become an eyesore."

The moment the words left his lips, Avery was sent flying by a spell, slamming heavily into the wall and grimacing in pain.

The other two prefects turned deathly pale with fright and turned to run, but Tom bound their ankles with a spell, sending them crashing face-first into the floor.