"We’re finally going to Hogwarts, huh? I’ve been waiting forever for this."
The one who said that wasn’t Tom—it was Andros.
Over the past few weeks, Andros had learned quite a bit about the modern magical world. At this point, you could say he was half a qualified modern wizard.
What impressed him most were the legendary founders of Hogwarts. He often sighed wistfully, wishing he’d been born in their era.
He couldn’t say for certain what level the Founders had reached as wizards, but Andros was confident they had to be at least on par with himself—in other words, on the level of a "Best in a Century" (SS-rank).
Tom had once asked Andros to evaluate his magical talent, but the answer he got was... unclear.
No doubt, Tom was gifted. Definitely top-tier, a once-in-a-generation kind of prodigy. An S-rank.
But the gap between S-rank and SS-rank was huge. And based on the beginner-level spells Tom had learned so far, Andros just couldn’t make a final call.
Maybe Tom was just a late bloomer?
Still, that alone said a lot—Tom wasn’t quite there yet, but he was somewhere between "prodigy" and "Best in a Century." And that didn’t bother Tom. His talent wasn’t fixed, after all. He’d already gained Andros’s magical gift, and in the future, he’d collect even more, and stronger ones too.
He glanced at his system panel. His bond with Andros had grown quite a bit—his approval rating was now 46%. Just a few more points to hit 50 and earn another spin on the reward wheel.
But what shocked Tom the most was learning Andros’s other name—Heracles.
Tom had honestly thought he’d misheard. But no—Andros was the Heracles of legend.
To ancient people, a powerful wizard might as well have been a god. Their stories passed down through generations, twisted and dramatized into myth and legend.
Still, Andros had made it clear after reading modern Greek mythology: he absolutely did not have a creepy dad. His parents were ordinary wizards. He was just... built different.
"Tom, you’re ready to start learning the Patronus Charm," Andros said one day, patting Tom on the shoulder. He looked excited, almost eager to pass down one of his signature spells.
The Patronus Charm was undeniably advanced magic—requiring not just a strong magical foundation but a rock-solid will.
Tom had the mental discipline in spades, easily outclassing most kids his age. And now, with Andros’s magical talent in his toolkit, power wasn’t an issue either.
"I’ve been looking forward to this too, Andros," Tom replied. That massive, warrior-like Patronus Andros used? He wanted that.
"I’ll give you a demo first," Andros said, stepping back and raising his wand high.
Silvery mist erupted from the tip of his wand, swirling and weaving until it took solid form—into a gigantic, towering figure.
Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief.
"That’s your Patronus?!"
The thing was over ten meters tall. And the most shocking part? It looked exactly like Andros.
"Hahahaha!" Andros laughed heartily, clearly pleased with Tom’s reaction. "Surprised? Normally, Patronuses are animals—creatures that reflect a wizard’s inner self."
"But I believe the only force that can truly protect you... is your own strength and conviction."
"Maybe that’s why my Patronus took on my own form. I’ve refined it over time, too—it’s got all sorts of special properties now. It’s especially effective against dark forces."
He shot Tom a confident smile. "If you follow my training method, there’s a good chance your Patronus will be humanoid too. Tempting, huh?"
Tom nodded with way too much enthusiasm.
Who wouldn’t want that?! Compared to otters, swans, or stags, a towering, human-shaped Patronus was way cooler!
And if it could get to Andros’s size? That was practically a Gundam. A silver, magical Gundam!
With that kind of motivation, Tom dove into his training with renewed fire. He kept at it all the way until the next morning—only stopping when it was almost time to leave.
After wolfing down two slices of bread, he grabbed his suitcase and headed off to King’s Cross Station.
The suitcase didn’t look very big, but it had been enchanted with an Extension Charm. That spell had taken him two whole days to learn—it wasn’t easy. He’d managed to triple the internal space, though any more would’ve made it unstable.
The spell also wasn’t permanent—it’d need to be recast about once a month. But for now, it worked.
Was it illegal for an underage wizard to use that charm? Technically, yeah.
Did Tom care? Not one bit.
He was just a fresh-faced first-year. No way he could’ve done something that advanced.
Clearly, someone must’ve tampered with his suitcase to frame him!
He is just a good Tom Riddle.
Tom arrived at King’s Cross. The station was bustling—it was one of the busiest transport hubs in London, after all.
Fun fact: the "King’s Cross" name was meant to honor King George IV... who, frankly, didn’t deserve it.
Even his closest attendants had nothing nice to say about him. One even claimed, "No dog on Earth is more cowardly, vile, or useless than that king."
Harsh? Maybe. But not undeserved.
Tom honestly couldn’t understand why anyone would want to memorialize such a loser. Yet there were still statues of him all over Britain.
Shaking off the thought, Tom followed the crowd until he stood between Platforms Nine and Ten. Then, acting like it was the most natural thing in the world, he walked straight into the barrier.
And emerged into a whole new world.
A gleaming red steam engine stood at the crowded platform, its side marked with a sign: "Hogwarts Express."
Just one wall away, and yet it felt like crossing into another universe.
Tom took a deep breath and stepped aboard the train, officially beginning his journey as yet another version of Tom Riddle.