Punished

As soon as he said it, stifled laughter broke out in the common room. The young snakes all watched Tom with mocking amusement, waiting for him to embarrass himself.

But Tom didn't get the least bit annoyed. He just waved a hand leisurely. "No need, no need. I'm not that ambitious."

"Being able to study magic in peace, with fewer people bothering me, and serving as an invisible Head of House—that's enough."

He paused, his eyes lighting up as he added, "If you don't like the sound of that, we can change the name. How about the Uncrowned King of Slytherin? What do you think?"

Snape's face stiffened instantly, as if he'd swallowed ten slugs. It looked awful, and he seemed just as displeased.

Now he understood. The boy was deliberately getting under his skin. Uncrowned King? That sounded even more impressive than his proper title. He might as well have called himself the Invisible Head of House!

"Stop trying to talk your way out of things." Snape flicked his sleeve, tamping down his anger. "Invisible Head of House is nonsense, but your idea of an invisible Prefect has some merit."

He surveyed the room, his voice hard. "If you can beat Avery, you'll be the first-year invisible Prefect."

"The same goes for the other years. Anyone willing to duel may do so. The winner will be that year's invisible Prefect."

Snape was a Slytherin through and through. His admiration for strength was ingrained in him; otherwise, he wouldn't have thrown himself in with the Death Eaters back then.

Not only did he not object to Tom's proposal, he decided to extend it to every year.

First, he wanted to see what Tom was really capable of. Second, he wanted to use this opportunity to deal with the useless students who strutted around on the strength of their bloodlines.

He'd always thought there was something unnerving about Tom. The boy wasn't afraid of him or of any Pure-blood. Either he had no idea how far out of his depth he was, or he had something to back up his confidence.

And Tom was too clever for it to be the former.

At Snape's words, the current Prefects turned green, while the young snakes from the other years lit up and began rubbing their hands together.

Slytherin ambition had never been easy to hide. Winning authority through dueling was far more satisfying than becoming Prefect by sucking up to a professor.

Before Tom could answer, Snape raised his wand and gave it a wave. The tables, chairs, and sofas in the common room immediately floated over and stacked themselves against the walls, clearing a large space for the duel.

"I'll referee. No Unforgivable Curses or uncontrolled Dark Magic. Use any ordinary jinx you like. Don't worry, I'm confident I can heal you."

He gave Tom a crooked smile, full of schadenfreude. He was clearly hoping to see Tom lose in spectacular fashion.

"No problem." Tom shrugged and toyed with his wand.

Avery gritted his teeth and nodded too, rubbing the injury on his chest. He was determined to get even today. Otherwise, he'd never be able to hold his place in Slytherin.

The two of them stepped back, raised their wands, and bowed to one another, performing the dueling etiquette with practiced ease. Snape barked, "Begin!"

The moment he spoke, Avery shot forward like a madman, rattling off his spells. "Protego! Expelliarmus!"

A transparent shield instantly enveloped him, and a streak of red shot toward Tom right after. His movements were crisp and decisive, showing that he did have some dueling experience.

That was the advantage of being Pure-blood. Parents and ancestors taught you combat techniques from childhood, so as long as you were willing to learn, you got a head start over Muggle-born wizards.

Too bad for him, he was up against Tom.

Tom flicked his wand with an almost casual motion, knocking the Disarming Charm aside. Then he lowered the tip of his wand.

The smooth, hard floor suddenly turned soft and began to ripple like waves.

Avery was busy preparing his next spell. His foot slipped, and he nearly went sprawling. In a panic, he tried to cast a spell to steady the floor.

But Tom didn't give him the chance. A seemingly ordinary Impediment Jinx blasted toward Avery and shattered his Iron Armor Charm outright.

Avery's expression changed. He hurriedly backed away and roared, "Oppugno!"

More than a dozen glowing red-hot coals leapt out of the fireplace and hurtled toward Tom.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the unstable floor would make aimed spells less accurate, so he'd chosen an area attack instead.

Tom scoffed and swept his wand. "Gale Dance!" A sudden gust sprang out of nowhere and blew the coals right back.

Avery tried to dodge in a panic, but two coals still struck his arm. He winced from the burns and nearly burst into tears.

Tom scratched his head, looking bored. Was this really the level of a sixth-year Prefect?

Avery looked like he knew what he was doing, but the moment he fell behind, he panicked. He couldn't even manage a basic response.

Tom couldn't be bothered to play around anymore. He pointed his wand and said calmly, "Expelliarmus."

A streak of red hit Avery swiftly and accurately. The wand in his hand flew away and landed neatly in Tom's.

Without a wand, a wizard was little better than a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

Snape's face darkened. He glanced at the humiliated Avery and announced without expression, "The duel is over. Tom Riddle is the winner. As of today, he is Slytherin's first-year invisible Prefect."

Avery hung his head, wishing he could crawl into a hole. He hadn't just lost; Tom had made a fool of him.

Snape was in a terrible mood. Avery's performance had disgraced Slytherin completely.

A sixth-year Prefect had been toyed with by a first-year student and had lost decisively and miserably.

He hadn't even been able to fight back. It was no exaggeration to say Tom had beaten him both in brains and skill.

And yet, at the same time, Snape was astonished.

A wizard's strength wasn't measured by the power of his spells alone. Casting skill, tactical planning, and spell combinations all mattered.

Tom had controlled the pace of the fight from start to finish. He'd used the softened floor to restrict Avery's movements, then turned the attack back with a Gale Spell. The whole sequence had been so smooth he barely seemed like a first-year.

What Snape found hardest to understand was the way Tom had knocked aside the Disarming Charm.

To an amateur, it would have looked like a simple deflection. But Snape could tell it was precise control of magic.

Combined with an exceptional understanding of the Disarming Charm, that was what had made it look so effortless.

It had saved magic and let him counter a surprise attack. Plenty of adult wizards couldn't manage that kind of technique.

"Professor." Tom's voice interrupted his thoughts. Snape looked over instinctively and saw the boy wearing that infuriating smile again.

"As you said, I only had to beat Avery to become invisible Prefect. By rights, that should be the end of it."

Then he changed tack, looking "aggrieved." "But I've already thrown down my glove. I can't treat my honor like a joke the way Malfoy does, can I?

"After all, I have standards."

Stifled laughter filled the common room again. Everyone knew Malfoy had chickened out of a duel. Tom was taking a roundabout jab at him.

"So, Professor, could you let me finish the rest of the duels?"

"Otherwise, people might say Tom Riddle beat up an older student and ran off. That'd be terribly bad form." Tom said it with a perfectly straight face.