"Mr. Riddle, I understand your dislike of Dementors. I share it. However, they are still, technically, employees of the Ministry…"
"…They are still under the Ministry's authority. Their presence here is for the purpose of capturing fugitives."
"Then let us pretend they do not exist," Dumbledore added gently. "The Ministry and the Dementors have promised not to enter the school grounds."
Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"I think it would be better to withdraw them altogether. That way, Lestrange and Lockhart would be easier to catch."
Dumbledore paused. "Why?"
"It is simple." Tom spread his hands. "Their targets are Harry and me. If Dementors are guarding the school gates, how would they dare approach? Remove the blockade. Let them come to me. I guarantee the fight ends in five seconds."
Through the power of time, Tom had already glimpsed fragments of the future. Lockhart and Bellatrix were currently feasting in Manchester, rebuilding their strength. They had no intention of approaching Hogwarts anytime soon. The Ministry and the Dementors were wasting their efforts.
Unfortunately, Tom had never been to that exact location in Manchester. He could not lock onto it precisely.
The future images appeared for less than a second, even after constant practice. He and Grindelwald had once discussed their differing talents.
Tom saw more possible branches of the future, and he saw timestamps.
Grindelwald's visions, on the other hand, were difficult to control, often triggering passively and lacking temporal clarity. When he had once shown his followers visions of global war, it had merely been the most probable trajectory, not a fixed one.
Dumbledore listened to Tom's proposal with visible discomfort. The solution was efficient. Brutally so.
Tom did not care about the fugitives.
But Harry did.
And so did the rest of the students.
"It is the Ministry's responsibility to capture escapees," Dumbledore said at last. "We need not involve ourselves further. It grows late. Would you care to stay for dinner?"
"I will pass. Daphne is waiting."
Tom stood, placed Fawkes gently back upon his perch, and headed toward the door.
He paused at the threshold and glanced back.
"Oh. Professor. In the future, you may address me as Governor Riddle. During working hours, one should use proper titles."
Dumbledore stared as Tom departed.
Had he offended the boy recently?
Why did it feel as though Tom's tone had shifted?
…
Deep night.
The Forbidden Forest.
Fawkes' firelight illuminated the damp undergrowth. Tom was unconcerned about accidental wildfires. The forest was too wet for that.
"Chirp!"
Fawkes hovered proudly in midair.
Tom explained, "I have been training Apparition recently. I believe I have achieved mastery. Let us race. See who travels faster."
"Chirp?!"
The phoenix's eyes gleamed with unmistakable disdain.
You? Race me?
"Oh, I am quite serious."
Tom rolled up his sleeves and summoned Max the unicorn to serve as referee.
"Where has Dumbledore taken you before?"
Fawkes listed several destinations.
Tom chose one.
"Istanbul. We race there and back. If I lose, I cover your meals for a week. Premium quality. Unlike Dumbledore's budget menu."
He produced several crimson fruits.
Money Tree Fruit. Also called Phoenix Eggs. Rich in medicinal properties and fire energy.
Fawkes swooped down instantly and swallowed two.
"Good. On Max's signal."
The unicorn's horn flared white. A glowing orb rose twenty meters into the air before bursting.
Tom and Fawkes vanished simultaneously.
The distance from Hogwarts to Istanbul approached three thousand kilometers. From pole to pole was roughly twenty thousand. Shorter, yes, but sufficient to reveal differences.
Tom's maximum Apparition range exceeded one thousand kilometers. The strain upon his mind, however, was immense. His foundation was strong enough to maintain focus even through dizziness.
Three consecutive jumps.
He arrived at their chosen landmark atop the Hagia Sophia minaret.
He was first.
Seconds later, Fawkes appeared.
The phoenix stared at him, startled.
Competitive fire ignited in its eyes.
After resting only two minutes, it began the return.
Tom could not follow.
His mind felt pulverized, as though struck by a hammer hundreds of times. He could not visualize a destination. He collapsed into sleep where he stood.
An hour later, Fawkes returned to the Forbidden Forest and found Tom sprawled beside the unicorn.
"Max, how long ago did he return?"
The unicorn whinnied softly.
"Fifty minutes faster than me?"
Tom bared his teeth.
He had known the challenge would be difficult.
He had not expected the gap to be so wide.
His single jump range was not much inferior to Fawkes.
But three consecutive jumps were his limit. The recovery time was crippling. Even his return had been forced through sheer will.
Seven thousand kilometers total.
If the distance increased, the gap would only widen.
"Chirp."
Fawkes settled upon his shoulder, pressing warm feathers to his cheek. Healing warmth flowed through him.
"I know, I know. I will not cheat. Do you think I am Dumbledore?"
Tom hugged the phoenix, rubbing its head with mock irritation, and walked slowly back toward the castle.
He had a feeling.
This trial might be the most difficult yet.