Back inside the Great Hall, Ginny Weasley climbed the dueling stage at Tom's command.
She moved with startling ease, casting hexes one after another, swatting aside opponent after opponent.
Even Professor McGonagall and Professor Rouse exchanged a look.
"Professor McGonagall, it seems Gryffindor has birthed another prodigy," Rouse said with a small smile.
McGonagall shook her head, but the twitch at her lips betrayed her pride. At the same time, she felt a sting of regret.
The year's prefect appointments had been far too hasty. Ginny had shown nothing remarkable at the time, so McGonagall had chosen another girl.
But seeing her now… there was no comparison. In truth, Ginny was the strongest witch in her entire year.
"…that's the Bat-Bogey Hex," Rouse muttered in admiration as Ginny unleashed a storm of flapping wings that sent her opponent fleeing.
At Ilvermorny, it was a fifth-year curse. At Hogwarts, it was taught in the fourth year.
And Ginny wasn't just managing it—she was controlling it. Summoning ten or more batlike creatures at once, intimidating without actually injuring. That level of finesse was rare indeed.
Rouse's eyes flicked toward Tom Riddle, standing quietly with Luna. They'd entered together. Could it be… Tom had taught her?
He wasn't wrong.
Of course, it wasn't that Tom who had instructed Ginny—it was this one.
Ginny's gift was obvious. Especially her talent for hexes. Even Tom found himself nodding in appreciation. With the right training, she could grow into a formidable dark witch.
The Weasleys, he reflected, had a peculiar kind of magic in their blood. Every one of those redheaded siblings had talent.
Ginny's fiery temperament would one day make her power blaze all the brighter.
Her brothers? Too soft-hearted, restrained by their own good nature. Except Ron—his temper was fine, but his ability… less so.
Ginny's display had not gone unnoticed. The Weasley twins were staring in disbelief. When she stepped down from the stage, Fred and George pounced.
"Ginny, what potion did you drink? You're terrifying all of a sudden!" George demanded.
Fred pinched her arm mischievously. "Yeah, share it with us. We've been at the Shield Charm for months and you're summoning flocks of bats?"
"I—" Ginny panicked. She couldn't possibly mention the diary. Her instincts screamed at her, and she jabbed a finger toward Tom.
"…It was Tom who taught me!"
Tom.
The twins froze, their faces twisting in unison as they turned to stare at him.
We invited you to eat with us. We treated you like a mate. And you—you're teaching our little sister?
Tom's mouth twitched. The weight of their betrayed glares was almost comical. He couldn't throw Ginny under the broom now, so he gave the most reasonable excuse he could muster.
"Ginny's always with Astoria. And Astoria finally has a friend of her own. What's the harm in offering a few pointers?"
Fred and George glanced at each other. The excuse… wasn't entirely implausible. They weren't exactly the most attentive brothers; half the time they didn't know who Ginny was with.
If they'd been paying attention, they'd have caught on long ago.
"Enough, stop fussing!" Ginny shoved them away, cheeks flushed. "Tom isn't like Malfoy. He's not someone you need to worry about."
George opened his mouth. He wanted to argue—wanted to say that's exactly why we're worried!
But the words stuck in his throat.
Weasley history had no precedent for one of their own siding with a Slytherin.
And if Ginny did end up smitten… could she really rival the Greengrass sisters? Or Granger, for that matter?
They gave Tom one last, unreadable look before stalking off.
This isn't over, their eyes promised. We'll be watching.
…
"You used me as your shield," Tom said dryly, flicking Ginny's forehead. "Tomorrow, you'll come give me a back rub."
"Eh?" Ginny's face fell. "But I already promised Luna—we were going to watch Hagrid wrestle with some gnomes!"
"Cancel it, Weasley. You wouldn't want—"
"Stop! Don't say it like that!" Ginny groaned. "Every time you start a sentence with 'you wouldn't want,' I know it's going to be something awful."
Tom only grinned. "You'll get used to it."
Ginny: …
…
That night, Tom entered his study space—only for Ariana to run up to him with an announcement that made him blink.
"Tom," she said solemnly, "I want to duel Grindelwald."
"…You what?" Tom's brows shot up.
Ariana had been studying hard, but challenging someone like Grindelwald? That was suicide for her morale. If she lost badly, she'd be crushed.
But her expression was unwavering.
"Tom, I train every day. Fighting Andros helps me grow, but I still don't know how vast the gap is between me and him." Her voice trembled, but her gaze didn't. "You're the one who told me—fear is only beaten by facing it."
"Stop, stop!" Tom cut her off quickly. "That's enough. Don't quote me word for word."
He rubbed his forehead. "I get it, Ariana. But Grindelwald is… a monster. If you're scared, it'll only make it worse."
Ariana pouted. "Tom's lying. Yes, Grindelwald is bad. But he feels guilty about my death. He apologizes often—outside the villa."
Her small fists clenched. "Even if it's a trick, with you here, he can't hurt me. Other people might fear him, but I won't."