Newt only smiled faintly, saying nothing, choosing instead to demonstrate his method directly.
He produced two cases, dug into the ground nearby, and set them back to back before burying them. The case facing the lake suddenly expanded dozens of times over, bursting up out of the pit in an instant.
"Tom, just shape a slope and dig a channel so the lake water can flow down into it."
Tom set to work reshaping the terrain as Newt directed. Because the internal connections needed to stay stable, the entrance to the growing ground's pocket world couldn't simply be widened at will, so Newt had built a dedicated transfer space instead, opening several separate entry points within the growing ground itself, splitting the flow before it gathered again inside the waiting basin.
Once he understood the underlying principle, Tom found himself nodding along, impressed despite himself.
The old guard really did have tricks worth learning. Just the sheer skill of anchoring multiple spatial entrances to a single coordinate point was enough to make Tom feel he still had plenty to catch up on.
Tom wasted no time peppering Newt with questions, and Newt, never one to hold back knowledge, answered freely. A lifetime spent living out of a magical case had made him without question the world's foremost authority on Undetectable Extension Charms and spatial transference, leagues ahead of even Grindelwald or Dumbledore in that particular field.
Every man his craft, as they said.
By the time the lake had drained down to its last dregs, Tom felt he'd come away noticeably sharper for the experience.
The Inferi lake ran dry at last, exposing a riverbed littered with bleached bones, including two enormous skeletal frames that Newt recognized on sight. Dragon bones, and not just any dragon, but the largest of all fire-breathing species, the Ironbelly.
"Likely sacrificed to provide the initial power source for the array," Nicolas offered after a moment's thought, arriving at the explanation easily enough.
"Whatever the reason, leaving bones like that to waste in a dried-up riverbed seems foolish. Might as well bring them back and put them to use as fertilizer."
Tom got straight to work, gathering up the skeletons himself.
Looking over the now-empty riverbed, Nicolas couldn't help remarking, "Now that you've drained the Inferi lake completely, if Voldemort ever comes back and sees this, won't whatever trap you set on that locket have gone to waste?"
"It won't." Tom shook his head. "Voldemort's a man riddled with insecurity, and just as riddled with arrogance."
"The moment he sees his Horcrux has been tampered with, he'll want to know exactly whose doing it was. He won't be able to let a single lead go unexamined, so he'll come straight here to investigate the fake locket himself."
"Even knowing full well it's a trap, he won't be able to help himself. You think a man who's split his soul into multiple pieces is going to be scared off by a little danger?"
Seeing how confident Tom was, Nicolas let the matter drop.
Having plucked the last bit of use out of Voldemort's misfortune, the three of them made their way back to the estate.
Plenty of the other preparations remained unfinished, but with the Inferi lake secured, the golden apple tree finally had soil worthy of taking root.
Tom buried the seed in the mud along the lake's edge, and the change came at once. The once-still water stirred with faint ripples, a breeze picked up out of nowhere within the enclosed space, and the seed sprouted almost instantly, its fragile roots pressing down into the earth with quiet determination, drawing on the Inferi lake's power through every crack and seam in the ground beneath it.
Tom watched the rate of absorption through his magic-sense and couldn't help clicking his tongue.
Talk about squeezing a well dry.
"Master, Uncle Newt, you two had better move quickly. This little sapling doesn't drink slowly at all. Give it a bit more time to grow and it might drain the whole lake dry on its own."
At first, neither man had taken Tom's warning about the pace all that seriously, but by the time they came to check the next day, both were startled speechless.
The spot where they'd buried the seed the day before had already sprouted tender new shoots, and the Inferi lake hadn't sat still for a moment since, its surface churning restlessly.
That was enough to send both old men scrambling into motion without further delay, one setting off for Africa to restart the old triangular trade routes, the other heading north into Russia to gather the dark creatures the plan called for.
Tom, for his part, dusted off his hands and returned to school to begin a new week of classes.
The whole school was still buzzing over the newly signed peace treaty, and over Tom's role as its witness. No shortage of students were eager to hear the details firsthand, though every attempt to pry information out of him ran straight into a wall of Slytherins standing in the way.
Weren't the Slytherins curious themselves?
Of course they were. But Tom had no interest in talking about it, and none of them were foolish enough to try forcing the issue.
Of every House in the school, Slytherin's own understood Tom's colder side better than anyone, having learned firsthand that strength commanded respect in that world, and having received more than one quiet warning from their own families besides. It had been a long while since anyone had dared stir up trouble in Tom's presence.
At Monday evening's feast, Dumbledore cited Tom's "tremendous contribution to peace in the wizarding world" and formally presented him with a Special Service Award, adding another two hundred points to Slytherin's total. Combined with the various points already owed him from earlier arrangements, the full five hundred points promised finally landed within the week, pushing the House point tally nearly to its limit.
What pleased Tom most was that his Achievement Points had finally reached the number he needed. After spending part of the evening with Ginny, he finally let his consciousness slip into the learning space, ready to summon a new teacher.
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