"So you were waiting for me here. Come on in, little one… No, I should show you some respect. Please come in, gentle young sir."
The setup in Dumbledore's office was exactly the same as always.
Fawkes still looked sickly and worn out. Dumbledore said it was just about time for his Burning Day—every phoenix goes through rebirth like that every so often.
As usual, Tom asked Dumbledore if he could buy Fawkes.
Both of them were joking, so they shared a quick laugh and moved on.
The Sorting Hat sat quietly on its shelf and gave Tom a little greeting when he walked in.
"So, young man, what would you like to ask about?" Dumbledore folded his hands, his expression unchanged.
"Professor Dumbledore, Hermione and I really want to go to the Christmas ball this year. I know first-years aren't normally allowed, but if I can get signatures from all four Heads of House, could you make an exception?
We really want to see the ball. We're just kids—it sounds so exciting. You know how strong our curiosity is."
"Of course," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I'd never mind Hogwarts leaving a good impression on any student. This place is warm and welcoming. You should get to celebrate with your friends."
Tom nodded seriously. "Got it, Professor. I do have one more question, but before that, I need to ask you something first. Do you dislike sneaky, kind of underhanded little guys?
I have to know, because it'll decide how I bring up the next part."
"I don't dislike them at all, my boy. Everyone is free. In theory, every creature is born with the right to put themselves first before thinking of others—especially you, child. You give yourself too little love. I like your kindness, your compassion, your hard work.
But you should keep more love for yourself. Now, what did you want to say?"
"Lend me some Galleons, Professor."
Dumbledore paused. He'd guessed a lot of things Tom might say, but that one completely blindsided him.
Galleons?
Tom wasn't short on Galleons at all.
"How many do you need, child?"
"The more the better! If possible, I'd love for you to mortgage Hogwarts itself into Galleons and lend them all to me."
Dumbledore couldn't help laughing. He slapped the desk. It had been a long time since he'd met someone this entertaining. "And then?"
"Then you sell me Fawkes, or I won't pay you back."
"Mmm-hmm." Dumbledore nodded along. "Any other plans? Fawkes is off the table."
"Hermione and I have already asked all four Heads of House, but Professor McGonagall hasn't agreed yet. If you could put in a word for us, that'd work too."
Ah, so that's it…
Dumbledore had a pretty good idea what was going on. He liked to think he understood Tom—at least a lot better than that blockhead Severus did.
"Child, tell me the real reason.
You didn't come to me just because you want to go to the ball. Sit down—please, sit, you sly young man." Dumbledore gestured to the chair in front of him.
Tom sat and started talking. "Professor, I'm a pretty contradictory person. I like cute girls—their smiles feel healing to me.
Misha is one, Hermione is too. But that doesn't mean I'm just into looks. If one day Hermione turned into a dark witch and started throwing around Avada Kedavra left and right, I'd still step in—as her best friend—and give her a proper send-off."
"Please go on," Dumbledore said with a nod.
"I can't stand seeing people who've been good to me get hurt. Professor Sprout, Professor Snape, Hagrid, Professor Flitwick—and you too."
Dumbledore got it. "Hermione as well, right?"
"We're best friends. There are no secrets between us. At first I thought she didn't care about the ball at all, so I just wanted to tease her a bit. But after we got the okay from the other three professors, McGonagall turned us down.
I saw how sad Hermione looked, Professor Dumbledore. Honestly, I'd much rather see her happy than upset."
Dumbledore looked deep into Tom's eyes, searching for even the tiniest hint of selfishness.
There wasn't any.
After a long moment, Dumbledore sighed. "Child, what if I say no?"
"You won't, sir. You've heard my reasons, you think they're valid, and Hermione's and my efforts are enough to move you."
"All that stuff about borrowing Galleons and wanting Fawkes—it was just a lead-in so you could tell me the real reason in the end?" Dumbledore chuckled. "No wonder you asked first if I minded sneaky little guys."
"Ah, no—I really do want a phoenix. They're so cool."
Dumbledore: "…"
He could tell Tom was completely serious about that part.
"Ahem. I'll do my best to talk to Professor McGonagall, but that's all I can promise. What she decides in the end is up to her."
"Thank you, Professor. If you ever need someone to look after Fawkes in the future, I'm your guy."
"Hey now, kid, the greed in your eyes is showing. Looking after a phoenix isn't like taking care of a regular owl…" Midway through, Dumbledore rubbed his forehead. He'd fallen into Tom's trap again—this kid had deliberately steered the conversation back to Fawkes.
Dumbledore had forgotten one thing: Tom had seriously impressive experience with magical creatures!
Even Hagrid, the magical creatures expert, couldn't stop singing his praises.
"If the need ever arises, you'll be the first person I think of, you cunning little rascal."
Tom grinned wide and bright. "Then I'll head out, Professor. Sweet dreams tonight."
"You too."
After Tom left, the Sorting Hat let out a laugh from its corner. "I've never once regretted my decisions. That's a clever one, isn't he, Albus?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. Even if he hadn't gone down the wizard path, he'd still grow up to be a successful young man.
That whole borrowing-Galleons bit was just a smokescreen, and he came right out and said what he really wanted. It didn't bother me—in fact, it was kind of fun.
He knows me too well. He knew that once I heard the full story, I'd help."
"A smokescreen?" The Sorting Hat paused. "You're wrong there, Albus. Wanting to borrow Galleons wasn't a lie."
"???" Dumbledore looked totally confused. "What would he need that many Galleons for?"
The Sorting Hat: "Didn't Tom tell you? He wants to buy your Fawkes. Of course, if you offered to sell right now, he'd turn it down. He wants it badly, but he'd never push for it.
If one day you're old and gone, and you leave Fawkes to Tom… he'd never let anyone harm that phoenix."
"Because he loves phoenixes?"
The Sorting Hat wiggled its pointy tip. "Because you gave it to him. Little Tom is an honest kid. Once someone hands him something, he'll treasure it forever. You still don't understand him well enough, Albus.
I'd bet anything he didn't go straight back to his dorm—he's off talking to the other professors right now.
Not because he doesn't trust you, but because he figures if you went to Minerva alone, it might put you in an awkward spot. This kid has already thought through everything else."
Hearing that, Dumbledore's mouth actually fell open.
Tom Riddle—a kid who kept surprising him.
It wasn't the first or second time, either.
No wonder so many professors adored him. Little Tom really knew how to do things without ever putting any of them in a tough position.
Even someone like Severus liked him. Who could possibly dislike the kid?
…
Tom was exhausted.
He didn't get back to the dorm until right at curfew.
His dorm mates, Li Su and Terry, were totally used to it by now.
"Tom, I've got a secret for you!" Terry leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Guess what? Christmas is coming up."
"Yeah, two weeks of holiday. I know."
Terry shook his head hard. "That's not it! That's nice news, but it's not the good stuff.
What I'm telling you is… on Christmas night, Hogwarts is throwing a big banquet, and a ton of pretty older girls are gonna be there!
Can you imagine? They'll be in gorgeous dress robes, dancing with their partners to the music!
And I've got a spot!"
—Terry was totally lying.
Tom sat up, looking excited. "That's awesome!"
"Awesome…? Tom, aren't you jealous?"
Be jealous! Get mad! Then I'll tell you I made it all up!
Terry had been dying to see Tom's frustrated-but-can't-do-anything-about-it face.
"Jealous of what? How'd you get Professor McGonagall to say yes, though?"
Terry: "? What does McGonagall have to do with…"
"First-years need approval from all four Heads of House plus Professor Dumbledore to go to the ball. I spent the whole day running around for those signatures—I'm wiped out.
I'm still not 100% sure about McGonagall, but I've got the other three professors and Dumbledore working on her. Hopefully she'll give me the chance."
Terry: "!!!"
Li Su: "!!!!!"
You're actually going for real?!
I was just bragging—you're seriously doing it?!
Terry: "Tom! You can't go, nooo! Or… or how about I be your date? I can wear girls' clothes!"
Li Su: "I'll wear a long dress! We'll both be your dates—take us with you, Tom!"