"Ah, so this is where you were waiting for me. Come in, little one... No, I should give you proper respect. Please come in, gentle young man."
Dumbledore's office looked exactly the same as before.
Fawkes was still looking quite sickly. Dumbledore said it was because he was approaching his Burning Day—every phoenix goes through a cycle of rebirth, bursting into flames and rising from the ashes every so often.
True to form, Tom immediately asked Dumbledore if he was willing to sell Fawkes to him.
They both chuckled, sharing the joke without taking it any further.
The Sorting Hat sat quietly on its shelf, offering Tom a brief greeting when it saw him.
"So, young man, what is it you wish to ask me?" Dumbledore laced his fingers together, his expression entirely neutral.
"Professor Dumbledore, Hermione and I would like to attend this year's Yule Ball. I know the rules say first-years aren't allowed, but if I manage to gather the signatures of all four Heads of House, could you perhaps make an exception?
Hermione and I really want to see what the ball is like. We're just kids, and it's all very exciting—you know how intensely curious we can be."
"Of course," Dumbledore smiled. "I certainly wouldn't object to Hogwarts leaving a wonderful impression on its students. This is a place of warmth, and you should celebrate alongside your friends."
Hearing this, Tom's expression turned serious. "Thank you, Professor. I understand. But I have one more question. Before that, though, I need to ask you something first: do you hate a somewhat despicable little schemer?
I have to ask you this first, because your answer determines how I should proceed."
"I do not hate them, little one. Everyone is free. Theoretically speaking, from the moment any creature is born, its most fundamental instinct is to prioritize itself before considering others. But you, my boy... you leave far too little love for yourself. I admire your kindness, your compassion, and your relentless hard work.
But you really should leave more love for yourself. Now, what is it you wish to say, young man?"
"Lend me some Galleons, Professor."
Dumbledore paused. He had anticipated many things Tom might say, but he had absolutely never expected that.
Borrow Galleons?
Tom wasn't short on money in the slightest.
"How much do you need, my boy?"
"As much as possible! If it's doable, I'd like you to mortgage the entire Hogwarts castle for Galleons and lend it all to me."
Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh. He patted his desk in amusement; it had been a very long time since he'd encountered someone this entertaining. "And then?"
"And then I'm going to demand you sell Fawkes to me. Otherwise, I simply won't pay you back."
"Mhm, mhm." Dumbledore nodded along as he listened. "Any other propositions? Because Fawkes is absolutely off the table."
"Hermione and I have already submitted our requests to all four Heads of House. So far, Professor McGonagall hasn't agreed. If you could step in and speak on our behalf, that would be greatly appreciated."
Ah, so that's what this is about...
Dumbledore had a growing suspicion. He believed he understood Tom fairly well by now—certainly far better than that thick-headed Severus did.
"My boy, tell me the reason. The real reason.
You didn't come to me simply because you want to attend a dance, did you? Sit. Please, sit down, you cunning little gentleman." Dumbledore gestured to the chair across from his desk.
Tom took a seat and began. "Professor, I'm a very contradictory person. I like cute girls. Their smiles make me feel healed.
Misha is like that, and so is Hermione. But that doesn't mean I'm entirely superficial—if one day Hermione turned into a Dark Lord and started firing off Killing Curses left and right, I would strike her down. As her best friend, I would give her a proper send-off."
"Please, continue." Dumbledore nodded.
"I can't stand seeing the people who treat me well look sad. Professor Sprout, Professor Snape, Mr. Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, and you, too."
Dumbledore understood. "And Hermione as well, correct?"
"We're best friends. There are no secrets between us. At first, I genuinely thought she didn't care about the ball at all, so I was just teasing her. But in the end—after we managed to get the approval of the other three professors—Professor McGonagall rejected us.
I saw how utterly heartbroken Hermione looked. Professor Dumbledore, to be completely honest, I much prefer seeing her happy than seeing her look that devastated."
Dumbledore looked deeply into Tom's eyes, searching for any ulterior motive, any sliver of selfishness.
But there was none.
After a long moment, Dumbledore sighed softly. "My boy, what if I were to refuse?"
"You won't refuse, sir. You've heard my reasons, you know they're valid, and the effort Hermione and I have put in is enough to move you."
"So all that talk about borrowing Galleons, and wanting Fawkes... that was all just a preamble to finally tell me the real reason?" Dumbledore chuckled. "No wonder you started by asking if I hated despicable little schemers."
"Oh, no, I genuinely do want a phoenix. They're incredibly cool."
Dumbledore: "..."
He could tell that last part was 100% genuine.
"Ahem. Regarding Professor McGonagall... I will certainly do my best to speak with her on your behalf. But I can only speak with her. As for what she ultimately decides, I cannot say."
"Thank you, Professor. If you ever need help looking after Fawkes in the future, I'd be happy to step in."
"Now, now, little one, you're not doing a very good job hiding the greed in your eyes. A phoenix is not an ordinary owl. Caring for a phoenix requires..." Dumbledore trailed off, rubbing his forehead. He had fallen right into Tom's trap again. The boy had deliberately steered the conversation back to Fawkes.
Dumbledore had briefly forgotten one crucial detail: Tom had extensive, highly proficient experience caring for magical creatures!
Even Hagrid, their resident Magical Creatures expert, sang his praises endlessly.
"If the need ever arises in the future, you will be the first person I call, you cunning little boy."
Tom flashed a bright, brilliant smile. "Then I'll take my leave, Professor. Wishing you a wonderful night's sleep."
"And you as well."
After Tom left, the Sorting Hat chuckled from its corner. "I never doubt my own judgments. He's quite the clever young man, isn't he, Albus?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. Even if he hadn't walked the path of a wizard, he would undoubtedly become a highly successful young man in the future.
The bit about borrowing Galleons was merely a fabrication, yet he presented his demands so openly and boldly. Instead of feeling offended, I actually found it quite amusing.
He understands me entirely too well. He knew that once I heard his full reasoning, I would undoubtedly help him."
"A fabrication?" The Sorting Hat paused. "You're mistaken, Albus. Tom's desire to borrow those Galleons wasn't a lie."
"???" Dumbledore was completely baffled. "What on earth would he need that many Galleons for?"
The Sorting Hat replied, "Didn't Tom tell you? He wants to buy Fawkes from you. Of course, if you offered to sell the bird to him right now, he absolutely wouldn't accept. He desires it, yes, but he wouldn't force the issue.
But if one day you grow old, and you pass on... if you were to entrust Fawkes to Tom in that moment... Tom would never allow anyone to harm that bird."
"Because he's so fond of phoenixes?"
The Sorting Hat shook its pointed tip. "Because you gave it to him. Little Tom is an incredibly loyal child. When someone entrusts him with something, he cherishes it deeply. Albus, you still do not fully understand this boy.
I can guarantee you right now, Tom did not return to his dormitory. He is currently seeking out the other professors."
"Of course. This isn't because he doubts you. It's because he realizes that sending you alone to confront Minerva would put you in an incredibly awkward position. That clever little boy has already thought ten steps ahead to spare you the discomfort."
Hearing the Sorting Hat's words, Dumbledore's jaw dropped slightly.
Tom Riddle. A child who constantly defied his expectations.
This wasn't the first time the boy had completely surprised him.
No wonder he was so universally adored by the faculty. The way little Tom handled things... he truly ensured no professor was ever put in a difficult position.
But then again, considering even someone like Severus liked Tom, who could possibly hate him?
...
Tom was absolutely exhausted.
It wasn't until right before curfew that he finally rushed back to his dormitory.
His roommates, Terry and Sue, were already used to this.
"Tom, I have a secret to tell you!" Terry leaned in close, a mischievous grin on his face. "Did you know Christmas is coming up?"
"Yeah. Two weeks of vacation. I know."
Terry shook his head vigorously. "That's not what I'm talking about! I mean, the vacation is nice, but it's not the best news.
What I want to tell you is... on Christmas night, Hogwarts hosts a massive Yule Ball! And do you know who's going to be there? All the gorgeous older girls!
Can you imagine it? They'll be wearing beautiful gowns, dancing with their dates to the music!
And guess what? I got an invitation to go!"
—Terry was lying through his teeth.
Tom sat up, looking genuinely thrilled. "That's amazing!"
"Yeah... Wait, Tom, aren't you jealous?"
Be jealous of me! Envy me! And then I'll crush your dreams by telling you I made it all up!
Terry had been dying to see Tom look frustrated and helpless for once.
"Why would I be jealous? Actually, how did you get Professor McGonagall to agree?"
Terry: "? What does Professor McGonagall have to do with anything..."
"First-years need the permission of all four Heads of House and Professor Dumbledore to attend the ball. I spent the entire day running around trying to secure my spot, and I'm completely dead on my feet.
I'm still not 100% sure about Professor McGonagall, honestly. But I managed to get the other three professors and Professor Dumbledore to talk to her for me. Hopefully, she'll give me a chance."
Terry: "!!!"
Sue: "!!!!"
Wait, you're actually going?!
I was just making stuff up to brag! How are you actually going?!
Terry: "Tom! You can't go without me! Waaah! How about... how about I be your date?! I'll wear a dress!"
Sue: "I'll wear a gown too! We can both be your dates! Please take us with you, Tom!"