— — — — — —
"The calamity is coming, none shall escape…"
Snape slowly turned around and continued where Dumbledore had left off, his voice heavy. "I can't even imagine what kind of disaster would deserve to be called a calamity by Trelawney."
"Voldemort commands many dark spells even I've never heard of," Dumbledore said calmly. "During his travels around the world, he gained unimaginable knowledge. His methods have become extremely difficult to predict. Slytherin… Herpo the Foul… I can see the shadows of those powerful dark wizards in him."
"It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him the culmination of dark magic across the ages," Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. "Sadly, he chose the wrong path and has become a prisoner of dark magic. Luckily, he didn't have much time to grow stronger, wasting it on the Horcruxes."
"Even Grindelwald can't compare… to him?" A flash of surprise crossed Snape's eyes as he asked.
Dumbledore shook his head.
"In terms of raw power, the two have never fought directly, so I cannot judge. But if we're talking purely about the depth and range of their dark magic… I would vote for Voldemort."
"I vote for Voldy too," Tom mumbled through a mouthful of cake.
Snape's expression grew even heavier. When he saw Tom finish his own slice and reach for his, his brows knitted together.
"Riddle, are you not worried at all?"
"Not really."
Tom swallowed the cake and washed it down with a sip of lemon water. He shrugged casually, speaking as if it were the most trivial matter in the world.
"I crushed him once. I can crush him a second time. Or a third."
"A wizard I've already surpassed has never had the qualifications to make me worry."
"And Trelawney's prophecy?" Snape asked. "What do you make of that?"
He had long since grown used to Tom's arrogance. The boy had treated him the same way before. And unfortunately, the facts backed it up. Once Tom had surpassed someone, the gap never shrank again. It only widened, until the other person couldn't even see his shadow anymore.
The boy shrugged again, a carefree smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What's that got to do with me?"
"The prophecy says a calamity is coming. That doesn't mean it's a calamity I can't deal with."
"Last time Professor Trelawney predicted a danger at the World Cup, remember? And sure, one showed up."
Tom grinned. "I was the danger."
Dumbledore and Snape both felt their eyelids twitch.
What kind of logic was that?
If you're more terrifying and evil than your opponent, then the one who should worry isn't you… it's them?
Was life really this comfortable for someone with no bottom line and zero sense of responsibility?
The two exchanged a glance and suddenly felt a bit… spiritually defeated.
With so little useful information available, Dumbledore and Snape discussed the matter for quite a while but reached no real conclusions.
Meanwhile, Tom managed to eat until he was half full.
"Severus," Dumbledore said, removing his round glasses and wiping the mist from the lenses with the edge of his robe before putting them back on, "I hope you can strengthen your contact with those people."
"What one person can do is ultimately limited. Especially now, when I am not the only one in this world who can threaten him. Voldemort will surely be more cautious. That means he will need helpers to carry out certain… unpleasant tasks he cannot appear for personally."
Snape nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes.
"Tom." Dumbledore turned toward Tom, wearing a warm smile as he regarded the boy. "You also hold considerable influence among the Slytherins. If you could help keep an eye out for suspicious activity, perhaps we might uncover something unexpected."
"The conditions?" Tom asked calmly, brushing a few cake crumbs from the corner of his mouth. "You can't expect me to work for free, can you?"
Dumbledore looked troubled. "What could I possibly offer that would tempt you? You already possess everything. My treasures and knowledge are no longer worth much to you."
Tom also looked troubled.
He was beginning to realize that Old Dumbles' remaining value was shrinking rapidly. And what little value remained could probably be squeezed out through Ariana anyway.
But asking him to do work without getting paid?
Absolutely impossible.
"…How about this? Why don't you go tie up Fontaine right now?"
Tom finally thought of a use for Dumbledore and suggested it happily.
Dumbledore shook his head immediately. "I know Fontaine has problems, and I have considered obtaining information from him. But nothing can happen to him at Hogwarts. If something did, we wouldn't even need Voldemort. The calamity would arrive on its own."
Quahog might be the president of MACUSA, but presidents could be replaced easily.
Fontaine, however, was the headmaster of Ilvermorny. On the surface that seemed like a lesser position, but he was also descended from one of the Original Twelve Aurors, and several other families of Auror descendants stood behind him.
Touching him would be the same as provoking half of America's magical community.
And given the recent conflicts, if the American wizarding world failed to respond again, public confidence would collapse completely.
The only possible outcome would be war.
Although Dumbledore had been acting more freely lately, dragging the entire wizarding world into chaos without restraint was still something his moral compass wouldn't allow.
"..."
Dumbledore thought hard for a long time before finally coming up with a barely acceptable bargaining chip.
"I heard you forced quite a bit of information about Aztec magical script out of Fontaine today," he said cautiously. "As for the remaining runes that haven't been deciphered yet… I can take responsibility for researching and interpreting them."
Tom reluctantly accepted, then added another condition. "I want to borrow Gryffindor's sword for a while."
A flicker passed through Dumbledore's eyes as he immediately pretended to be confused.
"Gryffindor's sword? Why, that's a lost artifact. Have you discovered where it might be? I'd be happy to help retrieve it."
Tom looked at him with open disdain, then pointed toward the Sorting Hat.
"Professor. Do I need to do it myself?"
Dumbledore could no longer keep up the act. His expression turned awkward, and he felt a genuine flash of surprise.
Tom actually knew that Gryffindor's sword was hidden inside the Sorting Hat.
Within Hogwarts, that was considered a true secret. The knowledge had been passed down only between headmasters, and even McGonagall didn't know about it yet.
Snape frowned, feeling as if the two of them were speaking in riddles. They were talking about Gryffindor's sword, so why was Tom pointing at the Sorting Hat?
Dumbledore walked over to the tall stool where the Sorting Hat rested. After fiddling with the hat for a moment, he reached inside.
Under Snape's stunned gaze, he pulled out a gleaming sword that reflected the firelight with a cold shimmer.
"The Sword of Gryffindor was hidden inside the Sorting Hat all along?" Snape said in disbelief.
Dumbledore nodded slightly.
"A small bit of ingenuity from the founder. One of Gryffindor's legacies to the school."
"A legacy?" Snape sneered. "If someone isn't careful, that thing could easily kill a student."
"I should consider myself lucky it didn't fall out during my Sorting."
"You exaggerate, Severus," Dumbledore replied, shaking his head. "To summon Gryffindor's sword, one must possess courage and qualities recognized by the Sorting Hat."
He glanced at Snape, "You… are still lacking in that regard."
Snape's face turned black as a cauldron's bottom. Tom, meanwhile, was examining the sword in his hands and nearly burst out laughing.
Dumbledore's tongue was getting sharper by the day.
— — —
"My lord."
Inside a luxurious and spacious suite, light rippled across a Lume-Lens. The image of Barty Jr. appeared clearly within it, his greeting filled with almost fanatical reverence.
At this point, Barty had been thoroughly molded by Grindelwald into exactly the kind of follower he wanted. Grindelwald was certain that Barty's loyalty and fervor toward him were no less than that of Vinda Rosier.
That was the nature of obsessive personalities. Their way of thinking was difficult to change, but once it did change, it became even more stubborn.
"Barty, your former master may be about to return… or perhaps he already has."
Grindelwald swirled the red wine in his glass as if discussing something trivial.
Barty immediately panicked and hurried to declare his loyalty. "My lord, following Voldemort in the past was nothing but my own narrow-mindedness and poor judgment."
"He's a petty man unworthy of standing beside you. Even if I died, I would never serve him again."
"Enough, Barty. I know you, and I trust you."
Grindelwald cut him off.
"You are a capable subordinate that I personally trained. If I didn't trust you, I would be doubting my own judgment."
"I…"
After another round of subtle manipulation, Barty's face filled with emotion.
"The reason I'm telling you about Voldemort," Grindelwald continued, setting down his wine glass, his tone turning more serious, "is because he carries secrets that I need."
"He stole the Fountain of Fair Fortune water from Gringotts' Egyptian headquarters. Clearly it's connected to his resurrection preparations. What exactly does that water do? Does he still have more of it? And where did he learn about it in the first place?"
"These are questions I want answered."
"So, Barty, I need you to return to Voldemort's side and bring me those answers."
Barty quickly grasped the meaning. "My lord… you want me to go undercover?"
Grindelwald nodded.
"Given how loyal you once were to him, this task shouldn't be difficult. You can approach him easily and regain his trust."
"I will complete the mission," Barty said without hesitation.
Grindelwald gave him a few more clues and instructed him to wait in Africa for the right opportunity before finally closing the mirror.
Sending Voldemort's former most loyal follower back to infiltrate him might seem reckless, but in reality it suited Barty perfectly.
Hadn't his face just turned bright red with excitement?
In Barty's mind, this mission proved Grindelwald's absolute trust in him. It was also the perfect chance to demonstrate his worth. The idea of switching loyalties again never even crossed his mind.
As for Voldemort, he wouldn't suspect Barty either.
Or rather, Voldemort never truly trusted anyone in the first place. The only thing that mattered to him was whether a person had value.
Just like Snape. He had been teaching at Hogwarts for over a decade, yet because Voldemort admired his skill in potions and his talent for dark magic, he continued entrusting him with important tasks despite lingering suspicion.
...
After making all the arrangements, Grindelwald entered the study space and mentioned the matter to Tom.
Tom was reading a book. He nodded absentmindedly.
"That completes Dumbledore's request. Keep an eye on things and don't let Barty go crazy and get himself killed."
"Crouch may not say it out loud, but he still treasures that son of his. If the kid dies, we lose half the value of that excellent workhorse."
Grindelwald grinned. "Tom, you and Voldemort really do share quite a few similarities."
Tom clicked his tongue but didn't argue.
Because Grindelwald wasn't wrong. They really were quite alike.
.
.
.