If Draco Malfoy had possessed a Hatred Value system, Tom was certain he would have reached Immortal Legend rank by now.
It was not just Harry who loathed him. Even within Slytherin, plenty were fed up with his arrogance. For Blaise Zabini to make such a sacrifice just to outshine Malfoy… that had caught Tom completely off guard.
But this was perfect.
Employees who worked for something other than money were the best kind.
A notebook was easy. He could simply copy one.
Tom's smile bloomed, radiant as sunlight.
"Why didn't you say so earlier? How was I supposed to know?"
"It's just notes. No problem. Give me a few days to refine them again. I'll streamline everything so it's easier to learn. You'll crush Malfoy in no time."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"And there's another notebook…"
"What?"
Blaise instinctively leaned forward, voice dropping as well.
"The Half Blood Prince's Notes. A Potions Master's student era notebook. Improved potion formulas. Powerful curses. I think it would suit you perfectly."
Blaise's breathing quickened. His eyes practically screamed two words.
I want.
"Work hard," Tom said, patting his shoulder. "If the profits look good, I'll give you part of it. Not all. But enough."
"Tom, where are the materials? I'll start right now!"
Blaise looked ready to storm the dungeon and fill every shelf of Helder Magic Workshop by dawn.
Unfortunately, Tom had no stock yet. The earliest delivery would arrive next weekend. Blaise was left with an overcharged engine and nowhere to expend it.
Friday, he spent the entire day memorizing the three formulas, drilling ingredient preparation steps and precise brewing details until they were second nature.
On Saturday, once the materials arrived, Blaise marched into the Potions classroom with his cauldron and began brewing relentlessly. Tom had arranged for Snape to supervise him for a full day. That was more than enough to ensure mastery.
Tom himself was no less busy.
In the morning, he accompanied Penelope to watch a hand cranked film of The Wizard of Oz. The idea had come from a conversation with Professor Raws about Muggle firearms. While Hogwarts wards blocked electromagnetic devices, older mechanical machines still functioned.
At noon, he slipped away with Astoria to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop for a lunch so sweet it bordered on lethal.
In the afternoon, he hurried back to tutor Hermione, then spent time with Daphne and the twins playing with Poppy and Pixie.
As for everyone else, they would have to wait until next weekend.
Tonight, he had planned to sit with Cho and read some novels he had purchased from a Muggle bookshop.
Then he remembered something important.
...
Standing before the Room of Requirement, Tom paced three times, thinking clearly of entering Rowena Ravenclaw's bedroom.
Nothing happened.
The wall remained smooth.
"No?" he muttered, touching the stone. He tried again, this time focusing only on needing an empty room.
A door appeared instantly.
Inside the learning space, Ravenclaw laughed softly.
"My bedroom is not so easily accessed."
"And yet here I am," Tom replied, stepping into darkness. "I have visited the Room of Requirement countless times. It never occurred to me this was your bedroom. There aren't even any windows."
"Magic solves what windows cannot," Ravenclaw said calmly. "I will teach you the key."
Under her guidance, Tom mastered the awakening charm quickly. He flicked his wand. Blue light arced gracefully through the air, scattering into starlike motes.
Moments later, white radiance emerged from the deepest part of the room. It spread rapidly, swallowing the darkness. The world seemed to shift backward. The faint sound of flowing water echoed, as if thin mist were receding.
Tom wondered if he had been transported entirely elsewhere.
This was no room.
It was a world.
He stood upon lush green grass. Before him ran a clear stream crossed by a small wooden bridge.
Across the water stood a three story white stone house nestled lazily within a flower garden. The entire setting radiated tranquil pastoral charm.
And the sky above…
It mirrored the grounds outside Hogwarts. The lawns. The Black Lake.
He even spotted several familiar students feeding fish along the shore.
"Welcome to my bedroom, Tom."
Ravenclaw observed through his senses. Though she had no memory of the thousand years that had passed, as if time had blinked away, the weight of history lingered faintly within her tone.
Tom stared.
"You call this a bedroom?"
"Only Helena and I could enter freely," she replied. "What else would you call it?"
He had no rebuttal.
Crossing the wooden bridge, Tom approached the house.
The door opened automatically as he neared.
Inside, warmth and comfort greeted him.
Ravenclaw clearly favored blue. The interior was adorned in varying shades, yet nothing felt monotonous. Each hue carried its own subtle emotion, blending together into an atmosphere both elegant and serene.