"Very well," Professor McGonagall sighed, lowering her wand at last. "We'll leave this matter for tomorrow, when Professor Dumbledore returns."
Then she turned sharply toward Tom. "Mr. Riddle, that diary..."
Tom shook his head lightly, his expression calm as ever.
"I'll hand it to Dumbledore myself tomorrow, Professor. I think it's better that way."
McGonagall studied him for a moment but didn't press further. She merely urged both boys to get some rest, though she herself followed Harry back toward Gryffindor Tower, just in time to catch several restless students sneaking about. She scolded them fiercely, docking a generous number of House points in the process.
The moment Harry stepped into the common room, a crowd instantly surrounded him. Questions flew from every direction, what had happened, was he all right, did he really fight the Basilisk?
Harry wanted to disappear.
He was exhausted to the bone, his mind still reeling from everything that had happened in the Chamber.
All he wanted now was a bed in the Hospital Wing, and perhaps to never hear the word snake again.
Tom, however, was far more cunning.
He knew full well that if he returned to the Slytherin common room now, a mob of curious students would be waiting for him. So instead, he slipped silently out of the castle, Apparating several times in quick succession until he arrived at the quiet little house in Little Hangleton, his current residence.
He tossed himself onto the bed and took out WhatsApp. As expected, it was flooded with unread messages.
Hermione. Daphne. Astoria. Ginny. Cho.
All had written to him.
Cho's messages were the longest, a mixture of anger, worry, and shy admiration.
She scolded him for being reckless, then immediately praised his bravery, her words betraying a heart torn between fear and awe.
Tom couldn't help but smile, warmly, yet with that faintly mischievous charm that made him dangerous.
And then, like the charming villain he was, a guilty thought struck him:
He hadn't messaged Penelope yet.
They'd only shared glances in passing, the occasional meeting for tea in the courtyard garden… perhaps it was time to change that.
As he replied to the flurry of messages, his eyes flicked toward the glowing runes of his system interface.
The sixth palace within his consciousness shone halfway bright, the other half still cloaked in shadow.
It won't be complete until Aragog is dealt with, he realized.
Two new notifications popped up.
[Rising Sun] – Your brilliance blazes across Hogwarts, illuminating every corner.
Reward: +100 Achievement Points, +500 House Credits.
[A Debt Unrepaid] – You have slain the Basilisk and safeguarded your peers, ensuring the school's peace.
Reward: +100 Achievement Points, +500 Learning Credits.
Not a bad night's work.
Tom smirked. It had been a day of chaos, danger, and discovery, but also one of remarkable rewards.
He didn't bother entering his "learning space" to discuss Slytherin's legacy with Grindelwald. Not tonight.
After sending one last message to Cho, "Get some rest. I'm fine.", he set WhatsApp aside and drifted off into dreamless sleep.
Sunday Morning.
Dawn broke gently over Hogwarts as Professor Dumbledore and Professor Rouse strolled up the path toward the castle, chatting amiably. The two had stopped by the Three Broomsticks for breakfast on their way in, and the old friends were in high spirits.
"I must say," Rouse remarked, "Hogwarts students may lack polish, but there's undeniable talent among them. If only, "
He stopped mid-sentence, his voice catching.
Dumbledore followed his gaze, and froze.
The once-green lawns of Hogwarts were now marred by a vast patch of scorched earth. One entire corner of the castle wall was blasted open, rubble and debris scattered like shrapnel.
Rouse' face turned pale. "Was… was Voldemort here?"
The absurd thought struck Dumbledore too, but he dismissed it instantly. Voldemort could not have returned… not yet.
Still, the sight left him uneasy.
"Well," Rouse said awkwardly, forcing a chuckle, "it seems the castle had quite the eventful evening."
Dumbledore's eyes, however, gleamed with concern.
"Mr. Wilkinson," he said to a nearby staff member, "please fetch Professor McGonagall. I'll be waiting in my office."
They parted at the entrance, Rouse heading toward the fifth floor while Dumbledore ascended the moving staircases to the eighth.
The castle was eerily silent.
Too silent.
Even on a Sunday morning, the corridors should have been filled with laughter and chatter, the aroma of breakfast wafting from the Great Hall. But now… nothing. Not even the echo of footsteps.
A frown creased the Headmaster's brow.
When he reached the stone gargoyle guarding his office, he expected it to step aside automatically. Instead, the creature was sitting there, chin propped on one stony hand, deep in thought.
"Ahem," Dumbledore coughed politely. "Would you mind letting me in?"
The gargoyle blinked in surprise.
"Ah! Headmaster, you're back already?"
It shifted aside, then abruptly threw out an arm to block him.
"Wait. Headmaster, I've been thinking. Students get summer vacations. Professors get holidays too. But me? I stand here every single day guarding this door. Don't you think I deserve a little break?"
Dumbledore blinked, utterly taken aback. "...Pardon?"
"I'm serious!" the gargoyle huffed. "Two months off. Maybe I'll travel, see the world! France, perhaps. Or Greece!"
The Headmaster's expression froze in disbelief.
He had been gone for one day. One single day.
And somehow, in that time, the school had turned into a madhouse, burned fields, gaping holes in the castle walls, students missing, and now even the stone gargoyles were demanding paid holidays.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
It was going to be one of those days.