Dragon Heartstring Wand

Andros patted his chest. "I am Andros, a wizard from Greece. My wandless magic and Patronus Charm are quite respectable; I am more than qualified to be your mentor!"

A "buzz" echoed in Tom's mind as a string of information about Andros instantly surfaced. Back in Diagon Alley, Albus Dumbledore had stuffed two Chocolate Frogs into his pockets to tide him over, and each box contained a Famous Wizard card. One of them was this very man: the "Invincible Andros."

This title was no boast; it was a moniker the wizards of that era had willingly bestowed upon him. Andros had never known defeat in his life. His wandless magic and Patronus Charm were his signature skills; he could conjure a Patronus the size of a giant without a wand, a feat no one in the present day could replicate. He was truly the King of the Century, the greatest in history.

No wonder he looks so agreeable, Tom mused. He radiates such righteousness, like a walking Patronus.

The Patronus Charm was the most demanding of positive emotions and happy memories, and it had always been the ultimate litmus test for dark wizards.

This fellow Andros was "pure-blooded" in every sense of the word. Compared to the gentle, calculating nature of Albus Dumbledore, he was a pure child of light, making him feel genuinely trustworthy.

At the very least, he didn't have to worry about this teacher leading him astray, saving him the trouble of having to keep his guard up.

"Mr. Andros, I am Tom Riddle." Tom set aside his thoughts and offered a sweet, obedient smile. "From now on, I am your student. If I do anything wrong, please tell me, and I will certainly correct it."

Tom was no fool; he had always been sweet-tongued and humble toward those who could help him grow stronger. This attitude pleased Andros, who slapped his chest with a resounding thud. "Easy! I'll make sure to teach you into the most outstanding wizard! Your talent must come with a price, so let's not delay—let's start practicing right now!"

Tom did not refuse. He mentally reviewed the foundational curriculum of Hogwarts and tentatively suggested, "Mr. Andros, I haven't entered magic school yet. Perhaps we could start with the basics, like the Wand-Lighting Charm and the Levitation Charm? To build a foundation."

As soon as these words left his lips, the hearty expression on Andros's face froze instantly. He stared at Tom in confusion. "Levitation Charm? Wand-Lighting Charm? What are those? I've never heard of them."

Tom was completely stumped. "Ah? Aren't these the basics of the basics?"

The Study Space fell into a dead silence, so awkward one could dig a three-bedroom apartment out of the floor. Tom squinted at Andros, only to find this towering, indomitable man looking away with a guilty expression, his face flushed red to the tips of his ears.

Tom understood immediately: the guy wasn't teasing him; he genuinely didn't know. He had invited a historical legend, only to find the legend didn't even know the introductory spells.

The wizarding world looked archaic, but it was actually progressing slowly, especially in terms of practicality and standardized casting procedures. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 that Tom had conjured was written by Miranda Goshawk, the first person to systematically organize spells. The Wand-Lighting and Levitation charms were only invented in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; they didn't exist in Andros's time. It would be a miracle if he knew them.

Tom rubbed his forehead and asked, exasperated, "Then how did you provide light at night back then? And how did you move heavy objects? You couldn't have just relied on brute force, could you?"

Andros, still blushing, silently conjured a wooden stake and flicked a fireball at it, instantly turning the stake into a torch. "We used fire for light, and we wrapped objects in magic to move them with a thought."

His tone was complex, carrying the pride of an old-school wizard. "To invent specific spells for such trivial matters and teach them to outsiders so freely... In my time, magic was a survival skill. How could we be so generous?"

So your era was the wild west of magic, Tom thought. Nothing but dueling and killing all day. It wasn't until the rise of Muggle influence in the Middle Ages and the Church's witch hunts that wizards were driven into a corner, forced to band together to build magic schools and gradually standardize magical education. That was how the convenient, systematic modern magical system came to be. Otherwise, wizards would probably still be using fireballs for light and brute force to fight.

Andros stared at the book in Tom's hands, his eyes brightening. He rubbed his palms together and probed, "Tom, could you lend me that book to look at? Maybe there are spells in there I know. If not, why don't we start with the Patronus Charm? That's my specialty; I guarantee I can teach you to crush the competition!"

Tom was stumped once again. "Ah? Wouldn't that be a bit too rushed?"

He finally understood: this wasn't a teacher; this was a study buddy!

A legend who didn't know basic spells wanted to start by teaching the Patronus Charm? Even though he had a cheat, he hadn't officially started his training yet. He was a total novice; how could he handle such forced growth?

"Forget it, Mr. Andros." Tom handed over the book with a sigh, conjured another one for himself, and shrugged as if giving up. "Let's study together and progress together. These modern spells will surely open your eyes."

"Thanks, Tom!" Andros scratched his head in embarrassment, looking sheepish—he had just been thumping his chest promising to teach the boy, and now he was begging to borrow a book. It was too humiliating.

[Ding! Teacher 'Andros' has reached 20% approval of the host. Host receives reward: Andros's Magical Talent.]

Tom felt a surge of energy throughout his body, his mind clearing significantly, and a smile spread across his face. He finally understood: reaching 20%, 50%, and 100% approval from a teacher each granted a reward, either the teacher's signature ability or a talent.

Preaching and teaching are important, of course, Tom mused, but in the magical world, talent is the hard currency.

How far one could go depended not just on effort and circumstances, but on the ceiling of one's talent. This approval system was tailor-made for him, clearly intended to let him gather the strengths of many and become a formidable figure the likes of which history had never seen.

He casually conjured a table, chairs, and a sofa in the space, taking care to add a small tea table with two glasses of juice he had manifested—after all, they were studying together, so they couldn't just sit there. Besides, if he treated this legend well, he might be more diligent in teaching him real skills later.

Then, he and Andros each took a copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and huddled together like magical novices. Fortunately, the space was thoughtful enough to provide Andros with a language patch; otherwise, he wouldn't even recognize the modern wizarding script in the book, and they would have had to start by learning to read, which would have been truly absurd.

Andros read even more intently than Tom. These basic spells were an eye-opener—so this was how magic could be used! Unlike his time, when magic was nothing but dueling and killing, a total waste of potential.

A legend was a legend; he understood everything at a glance. His grasp of magic had already reached the ceiling, and before long, his hands were itching to try. He started straight away with wandless magic, not even needing to practice.

Seeing this, Tom's heart skipped a beat. I need to buy the textbooks for the following years as soon as possible. At the rate Andros is going, he'll hit a wall in a few days, and who knows what kind of joke we'll make of ourselves then.