— — — — — —
A Time-Turner was a magical device used for time travel. It most commonly took the form of a small hourglass worn on a necklace.
Inside the hourglass was a substance known as the Sand of Time. Where it came from, no one knew.
Not Tom. Not Nicolas Flamel. Not even Ravenclaw.
In Ravenclaw's era, Time-Turners didn't yet exist. And by the time Flamel first heard of them, the British Ministry of Magic had already caused quite a few disasters with the things. As a result, their rules governing Time-Turners were extremely strict.
Anyone who toyed with time would eventually be toyed with by time in return. Even now, no one could say for certain how severe the consequences of changing the past might be. Sometimes the effects surfaced in unexpected ways, at completely different points in time.
The clearest example was Sirius Black.
Harry used a Time-Turner to save him from the Dementors, but two years later, Sirius ended up paying that life right back.
The greater the change, the harsher the backlash.
That was common sense to everyone who truly understood Time-Turners.
Fortunately, Tom wasn't traveling to the past to change anything. He was only observing and learning, so there was nothing to worry about.
Otherwise, he never would have touched the power of time so lightly. That force was far too dangerous, and his current level wasn't high enough to mess with it recklessly.
He slowly flipped the hourglass again and again. It took more than ten turns before he finally stopped.
The luxurious living room gradually faded away. Tom felt as if he were hurtling backward at extreme speed. With his natural affinity for time, he could sense streams of lost light racing back toward him from unimaginably distant places.
When the kaleidoscopic visions vanished, night had already fallen outside.
"Pretty interesting," he muttered, pulling on his Invisibility Cloak.
---
One day later
"I might've gone a little overboard."
The boy soaked in the bathtub, a warm towel draped over his head. Just last night, he had rewound time thirty times. Saying that out loud would absolutely leave people stunned.
The price was a pounding headache and a noticeable drain on his Life Force, flowing away dozens of times faster than normal.
Life Force, though?
That wasn't something Tom lacked. In fact, the immortality Voldemort had so obsessed over was something Tom had already achieved. The Golden Apple, in a way, was just that extraordinary.
"Perfect."
After thirty full rewinds, Tom had recorded Ariana's resurrection process and the potion's changes from every angle, in every possible position. He extracted those memories and stored them away.
Whether in the study space or using something like a Pensieve, he could replay and study them endlessly.
"My dear Rowena, would I have the honor of inviting you to watch a movie with me?"
The boy's gentle, warm voice echoed through the space, interrupting Ravenclaw's thoughts. The woman sighed helplessly and accepted Tom's very enthusiastic invitation.
In the massive panoramic screening room, Tom had already been waiting. As soon as Ravenclaw arrived, he began playing back his memories.
"Tsk."
After watching it through once, Ravenclaw shook her head. Just as Tom was expecting some profound insight, she spoke up, "Little Ariana really is… pretty flat."
"Isn't your focus a bit off?" Tom said, laughing helplessly. "She's still a kid. She'll fill out later."
"A kid?" Ravenclaw snorted. "At her age in my era, women already had children. Helena wasn't much older than her. Do you think the difference was that small?"
Tom's mind involuntarily placed the two side by side.
One was a pebble on an asphalt road. The other was a hill rising beside fertile land.
Yeah. Not really comparable…
"I'll give you a few formulas later," Ravenclaw said casually.
Tom shamelessly agreed, then replayed the memories several more times. This time, Ravenclaw's attention finally stayed on the right track.
As a true polymath, Ravenclaw had deep expertise in potion-making, alchemy, and dark magic. Back in the day, even Slytherin often sought her out to discuss dark spells.
She had to admit that this magic Voldemort developed carried more than a trace of his ancestor's brilliance.
Tom, however, was even more extreme and far more ambitious. He wasn't satisfied with merely resurrecting Ariana; he aimed to forge the perfect vessel for her soul.
Over the past two days, Ariana had returned to the study space too. Ravenclaw knew very well how much the girl had gained from this resurrection—not just immediately, but for her future as well.
Honestly, it made her a little tempted. Tom's blood was… mouthwatering.
There was only one thing she couldn't quite figure out: where exactly had Tom gotten Voldemort's resurrection secret—the Regeneration Potion ritual?
Then again, the boy had far too many secrets already. This barely counted, so Ravenclaw didn't bother asking.
With a wave of her hand, the memories dispersed. Tom looked at the contemplative woman.
"Any advice?"
After a moment of thought, Ravenclaw shared her conclusion.
"The entire ritual… the most crucial step is the father's bone. The father's bone acts as a bloodline anchor. It's the most important catalyst for rebuilding the body."
"As for the servant's flesh, it's meant to demonstrate the resurrected one's dominance and help restore their power. You used your own blood instead, combining it with the next step—the enemy's blood—which actually enhances the effect. That counts as a genuine upgrade."
She paused, a hint of confusion creasing her brow. "But again the enemy's blood… honestly, that step feels unnecessary. You probably noticed it too. When those two people's Life Force merged into the cauldron, it was little more than a finishing touch."
"At the same time, it contaminates the purity of the bloodline. That is, unless your blood is overwhelmingly powerful. If the original method were followed…" Ravenclaw shook her head. "With his level of dark magic, he shouldn't have missed something that obvious."
Tom smiled faintly. He knew exactly why.
Voldemort had been afraid. And at the same time, he had coveted the protective power hidden in Harry's blood.
Otherwise, why go through the trouble of having Barty lie low for an entire year just to deliver Harry at the right moment?
Setting that aside, most of Britain's wizards were his enemies anyway. Couldn't he have just grabbed a few off Diagon Alley?
"That step was something I planned to remove from the start," Tom explained. "The current concern is the father's bone for Andros."
"Andros probably doesn't have any relatives left alive," Ravenclaw said with a gentle smile. "My suggestion is to dig deeper into the power within your blood. Create a new embryonic body, and once Andros gains basic control over it, gradually reshape it over time until it becomes the form best suited for him."
"Sounds good," Tom nodded. "I'll take your advice."
"Wait… you know what, Rowena? I'm sure you already have a research direction in mind. I'll leave this honorable task to you. I've got something even more important to handle next."
The smile vanished from Ravenclaw's face. "What could possibly be more important than reviving Andros?"
Tom's figure was already fading away. He slipped off, leaving only a single sentence echoing through the screening room.
"I need to find my mother-in-law a helper. Otherwise, I'll be the one in real trouble. I've spent weeks on it and am just about to finish."
— — —
August arrived, and the Quidditch World Cup final drew closer by the day.
London's streets filled with oddly dressed visitors. The Ministry of Magic had been working overtime for days straight, and things were only going to get worse.
The largest gathering of wizards in history. Hundreds of thousands, all arriving at once. If anything went wrong, it would be an absolute nightmare for the Ministry.
...
Inside the Department of Magical Transportation—
Staring at the mountain of entry applications, temporary Floo Network access requests, and Portkey landing approvals piled on her desk, Lady Greengrass felt a vein throb violently in her forehead. She had a powerful urge to set the whole stack on fire.
She had been department head for ten years. But the total workload of those ten years didn't even come close to what she'd handled in just over a week.
And all of it… was the blessing bestowed upon her by her wonderful future son-in-law.
The Department of Magical Transportation also handled part of customs. Every foreign wizard entering Britain had to pass through her office. And nearly two hundred thousand spectators were coming from abroad.
Night fell. Lady Greengrass dragged her exhausted body home.
Laughter drifted in from the living room. Her two adorable daughters were roughhousing together. Normally, she would have smiled at the warm, loving scene.
But today?
I'm drowning in paperwork at the Ministry, and you two little darlings of the culprit are living carefree lives every single day. Does that seem fair? Does that make any sense at all?
"Still playing?" Lady Greengrass grabbed one ear in each hand, Daphne's and Astoria's.
"Ow, Mom, what are you doing?!" Daphne bared her teeth, protesting loudly.
Lady Greengrass snapped back, "The entire summer and you haven't done a single useful thing. Have you even finished your homework?"
"Of course we have!" Daphne said confidently.
In truth, she'd passed the assignments off to other students. But Tom had told her that the process didn't matter as long as the goal was achieved.
"Then why don't you read a book?" Lady Greengrass continued. "And tell Tom that if he doesn't deliver the helper he promised by tomorrow, you two are coming to the Ministry for internships. Unpaid."
After scolding her daughters, Lady Greengrass felt refreshed, almost reborn. She headed upstairs for a bath.
The sisters exchanged a look, both seeing the same helplessness in each other's eyes.
"What do we do?" Daphne asked.
Astoria sighed like a tiny adult. "What else can we do? We ask Tom for help."
"I'll do it!" Daphne hopped off the couch and scampered back to her room, tapping out a message at top speed.
{Tom, save us!}
---
Early the next morning—
As the Greengrass family sat down for breakfast, Tom finally arrived to save the day.
"Auntie, I brought the helper you asked for."
Lady Greengrass looked at the people Tom had brought with him. Two Catherines, and a girl so striking that even she felt a flicker of awe.
She had long pink hair cut in uneven layers, with two long braids trailing behind her, each tied with swirling red ribbons. Her pale face showed no emotion at all. Standing next to her, even the Catherines looked more like real humans.
"And this is…?" Lady Greengrass asked, puzzled.
Tom smiled as he introduced her.
"This is Ikaros."
.
.
.