— — — — — —

Newt practically pushed his language skills to the absolute limit.

He waved his hands so much they started to ache, stringing together long sentences he rarely used, just to prove to Tom—within two and a half minutes—that he was not that kind of person.

Even so, Newt still felt wronged.

Because Tom really did smell amazing right now.

"You didn’t come all this way just to show off some new perfume, did you?"

Newt’s train of thought had clearly gone off the rails. He leaned in, sniffed near Tom, then nodded with approval. "This is actually quite nice. The animals won’t mind it at all—might even like it. Give me some, would you? Tina hasn’t used perfume in years."

Tom’s mouth twitched as he recalled Tina’s old complaints.

Marrying Newt wasn’t just marrying a man. It meant marrying an endless stream of magical creatures along with him.

Most creatures were extremely sensitive to scents, so to avoid disturbing them, Tina had gone decades without using perfume.

"I’d love to get Tina a bottle too, but she can’t use this... at least not yet."

Tom pointed toward the golden apple tree in the distance as they walked side by side, explaining the Kanathos Spring and its effects along the way.

Newt had long since gotten used to Tom pulling out bizarre, even mythical items like this out of nowhere.

Still, when he heard about using the spring water to nourish the tree, his spirits lifted immediately.

Newt himself didn’t cling to life all that much. He’d already lived a full and happy life.

But Tina had regained her youth.

And the thought of leaving her alone for decades to come... that was something he couldn’t just brush off anymore.

Like always, Newt stopped at a certain distance, letting Tom approach the golden apple tree alone.

The moment he got close, the branches tipped with fresh green buds reached out, brushing softly against his cheek like something trying to curry favor.

Tom grabbed one of the branches and gave it a light tug.

"Alright, little tree. Time to settle a score."

"After the last harvest... didn’t you stash away some of the energy for yourself?"

The golden apple tree immediately went still.

The lively swaying branches stiffened and drooped. Even the tender green leaves froze in place, not moving an inch.

That guilty reaction was so obvious Tom couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. He flicked the branch lightly with a soft snap.

He’d noticed something off a while ago.

This time, the tree had been growing faster after fruiting than it did before maturing—and not just by a little.

And yet, the energy supply hadn’t increased. If anything, it had decreased.

There was only one explanation.

Even a tree could get crafty. It had been skimming off the top.

Tom felt personally attacked.

Honestly, couldn’t the world have a few more honest souls so his life of scheming and cutting corners could be a little easier?

Even a tree had picked up the bad habit of taking a cut. And he definitely hadn’t taught it that.

Sensing that Tom might be annoyed, the golden apple tree started moving again. The air around it suddenly turned cooler. The grass drooped, and the whole area took on a bleak, autumn-like feel.

"Cut it out," Tom said flatly. "You’re not sorry. You just know you got caught."

"Next time, don’t skim so aggressively. Ever heard of playing the long game?"

At its core, a living thing’s instinct was to store energy to survive future risks. Tom had no intention of erasing that instinct.

But a warning was still necessary.

Once the tree settled down and behaved, Tom took out the Kanathos spring water he’d collected earlier.

He didn’t use any container.

Ordinary vessels couldn’t withstand the divine aura and pressure within the water. Instead, he condensed it into a floating sphere.

The moment the water sphere appeared, the golden apple tree reacted instantly.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of branches shot out, plunging into the sphere, scrambling to "drink."

Tom didn’t stop it. He simply watched as the branches greedily absorbed the water, the sphere shrinking at a visible rate.

"Looks like it works," Newt called from behind, his voice full of excitement.

He could already see the difference.

New buds were sprouting faster, leaves were growing larger. The effect was leagues beyond anything the Inferi Lake water had ever achieved.

In about five minutes, the entire sphere was gone.

Not a single drop wasted.

As for how long it would take to bloom and bear fruit again, Tom couldn’t say yet.

But Newt, who had been taking care of the tree all this time, had a better sense of it.

"If it gets this amount every day, it should mature in at most two months."

"Every day? That’s not happening."

Tom shook his head.

It wasn’t that he was reluctant to use the sacred spring. But while the source could produce water continuously, it wasn’t limitless.

Otherwise, Hera wouldn’t have needed to bathe there just once a year.

He’d need to check how long it took to refill before giving Newt a proper answer.

"Come on, Newt. It’s full, but I’m starving."

Tom rubbed his stomach. "Where’s Tina?"

"At home, watching TV. She’s been hooked on something lately."

...

..

Back at the house, Tom’s glowing complexion immediately drew Tina’s attention—and her envy.

And the moment she learned that bathing in the sacred spring required a strong enough body, she tossed her soap opera aside without a second thought and geared up to train seriously.

"She’s planning to take the Arcane Wizard assessment too," Newt said with a smile. "When the time comes, I’ll need you to arrange a new identity for her. I’d rather not attract too much attention."

Tom nodded and agreed.

After dinner, he gave Tina a bit of guidance, left behind some potions to strengthen her body, and then returned to Hogwarts—ready to check on Astoria and call it a night.

"SCREEEE—!"

He had barely stepped out of the serpentine passage, not even halfway down the stairs toward the common room, when a piercing shriek slammed into him. The sound was so intense it made the steps tremble.

Tom reacted instantly, casting a Muffliato-like Charm to block out the noise, clamping a hand over his ears as he walked down with a strange look on his face.

The scene in the common room was even weirder.

About thirty students were gathered, all surrounding an open golden egg.

Click.

Tom snapped the golden egg shut and asked, puzzled, "I leave for one day and you all do... whatever this is? Where’s Daphne?"

"You. Said. What?!" the students who hadn’t recovered yet shouted at the top of their lungs, ears still ringing, faces full of confusion.

Tom: "..."

...

..

Once those idiots’ hearing returned, and with help from the others, the whole situation was finally explained.

Apparently, Slytherins had picked up a bit of Gryffindor-style recklessness.

Since they had no idea where to start, they went with the most brute-force method possible.

Listen. Just listen. Listen until it kills you.

They split into groups. Each group listened for a minute, then swapped out with the next, hoping someone would notice something useful.

A perfect system where people rested, but the egg never did.

Even when one group left, the egg kept screaming.

Honestly... impressive.

Tom was silent for a long moment before finally speaking, his tone carrying a hint of something hard to define.

"Well... not bad. Daphne keeps her word. Her promises are my promises. You can all relax."

The surrounding students lit up with excitement. With Tom backing it, they felt a lot more secure.

Seeing the next group of Slytherins about to subject themselves to the torture again, Tom quickly stopped them.

"Technically, I shouldn’t say anything since I helped design this," he said. "But I’ll give you a hint."

"If the answer lies in the sound, then that sound is a kind of language. As for what language it is... go figure it out in the library."

---

Meanwhile—

London, Knockturn Alley.

"My lord, I’ve failed you. I couldn’t keep watch over Voldemort."

Barty Jr lay prostrate on the ground.

This time, unlike before Voldemort, his submission was genuine. His voice was filled with guilt.

"I did everything I could to stall for time, tried every method to stay by his side... but he insisted on sending me back to England to gather information."

Looking up at the crescent moon hanging in the sky, Grindelwald felt a rare sense of exasperation.

Another spy... sent right back.

Was Voldemort insane?

If he wanted information, couldn’t he just read the news?

Why send someone all the way back?

"Get up," Grindelwald said, reaching out to pull Barty to his feet. He even gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "This isn’t your fault. Voldemort’s mind was never normal to begin with. Now he’s frightened and paranoid on top of that. You can’t judge him by common sense."

Hearing that didn’t ease Barty’s guilt. If anything, it deepened it.

Fortunately, he hadn’t come back empty-handed.

"My lord, I discovered some of Voldemort’s secrets. He learned about the Fountain of Good Fortune and the Tears of Isis from Herpo’s legacy."

Grindelwald raised an eyebrow. "Herpo the Foul? You’re saying Voldemort inherited his knowledge?"

"Yes," Barty replied respectfully. "During his early travels, he found one of Herpo’s old laboratories in Egypt. He didn’t tell me what exactly was in the ruins, but he did teach me two dark spells as a reward."

Ancient Egypt and Greece had frequent exchanges. It wasn’t strange for Herpo to have left something behind there.

"So Voldemort told you himself that he got information about those two artifacts from the ruins?"

Barty nodded firmly.

"Good. That alone is valuable."

"There’s more," Barty added quickly. "Voldemort has set his sights on Miss Ariana’s Obscurus."

The smile on Grindelwald’s face vanished.

"Good... very good..."

His voice turned cold. "Barty, the next time Voldemort contacts you, get his exact location if you can. I have a gift I’d like to send him."

"Yes, my lord."

Grindelwald rose into the night sky. At the same time, his consciousness entered the study space.

Instead of seeking out Tom, he summoned Andros to the arena and relayed everything Barty had said.

"Suicidal fool!"

Andros’s muscles bulged, terrifying magic spilling out and crushing the ground beneath him.

"Tom! Tom!" he roared toward the sky as he summoned Tom.

"I want to be revived!"

"I don’t care about the perfect body anymore. I can’t wait any longer."

.

.

.