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[Hogwarts] Ch 174: Ariana’s Spark
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 22:23:22 +0000 UTC— — — — — —
Thanks to the completely safe environment and her growing trust in Tom, Ariana had actually made progress since their last talk.
Control. Power. Magic. That was her focus now, and she had already started learning under Andros.
Her first goal was to at least catch up to Tom. The second, more ambitious one, was to defeat Grindelwald.
Tom had even passed along Grindelwald's challenge to her: they would "fight" each other on equal terms, power matching age.
With those two goals in mind, Ariana threw herself into study with grim determination.
Other than her daily, immovable three-hour block of Tom & Jerry and other cartoons, every other hour of her twenty-four went into training. She didn't need to sleep, didn't need to eat. When Andros was busy, she studied on her own. When he was free, she peppered him with questions.
The results showed fast. Her skills improved by leaps and bounds.
But when she once asked Andros how she compared to Tom back when he started, the painfully straightforward Andros gave her the blunt truth.
"Compared to Tom? Ariana, don't do this to yourself. You are fast, sure— but Tom? His growth speed is ridiculous. Honestly, we couldn't even understand his progress. You should pick someone else to compare with."
"I can guarantee you this though: It won't be long before you catch up to how strong Grindelwald was at fourteen."
That brutally honest answer left Ariana sulking for days.
Tom had shown up late today because he'd stayed in the dorm comforting her, trying to show her what a "normal" wizard's level really looked like.
After all, just look at the so-called "wizards" Ariana had seen before: all Kings of the Century, plus Aberforth, who could go toe-to-toe with them. Hardly a fair baseline for "ordinary."
So Draco's battle was a good example.
As for Harry's drama, when he had shown his Parseltongue, Tom only gave him a glance as the boy bolted from the Hall before dismissing it entirely.
He was busy instead, sitting with Ariana to watch a Gryffindor sixth-year duel.
Calling it a duel was generous. It looked more like a clumsy card game. Each student hesitated for ages before casting anything, and when one raised his wand the other sprinted off so fast he tripped over his own feet—only for the opponent's spell to miss completely.
On the other side, the Hufflepuffs weren't faring much better. One kid's wand suddenly spewed fire. His opponent hadn't even done anything yet, but the poor boy freaked out so badly he dropped his wand altogether.
Ariana was staring, utterly dumbfounded.
Forget combat technique—even the spell success rate was painful to watch.
"Tom…" Ariana puffed her cheeks. "You're awful. Comparing me to them?"
"I'm not comparing you," Tom said patiently. "I just want you to see how the world really is."
His tone softened, persuasive. "The truth is, this world is uneven. Out of ten thousand people, maybe one is a wizard. Out of ten thousand wizards, maybe one is a Dumbledore… or a Grindelwald."
"Your talent isn't less than theirs. But don't waste your time measuring yourself against them—or me. Just focus on surpassing yourself, again and again. That's enough."
When he was with Gabrielle and Astoria, Tom felt like a big brother. One was a cheeky little mischief-maker, the other a sweet little girl.
But with Ariana, he felt more like… a father. Reshaping her worldview, her understanding, her personality.
And wasn't that what a father did?
No, he thought with a smirk, someday he was going to make old Dumbles bow down and thank him.
"But if I'm this slow and clumsy, how can I ever be your teacher?" Ariana whispered, voice thick with grievance.
Tom reassured her, "You've just started. Don't think so far ahead. Once you learn enough, you'll discover your own strengths."
"I have to split my time—classes, Hermione and Daphne, research in alchemy and potions. But you? You get to focus only on magic, with plenty of hours every day. Soon enough, you'll find things you're better at than me."
That lifted Ariana's mood. She stopped brooding over the sloppy duels and instead started thinking hard about what branch of magic she could study to actually teach Tom.
The truth was, Tom already had the answer.
What he wanted was for Ariana to develop Nonverbal spells.
But he couldn't say it yet. Better to wait until she'd exhausted all the "normal" methods and still couldn't catch up to him. When her trust and recognition were high enough, then he'd plant the seed. That would be the perfect timing.
...
With Ariana pacified, Tom could finally enjoy the show in peace.
Harry's Parseltongue had caused a brief stir, but it didn't dampen the students' enthusiasm. The central stage had now fully transformed into the school's go-to spot for settling grudges.
"Davies! If you've got any guts left, get up here!"
The Hufflepuff sixth-year prefect was shouting at Ravenclaw fifth-year Roger Davies.
The feud between them was simple: the Hufflepuff prefect's girlfriend had secretly "switched teams" not long ago, and he had only just found out.
They'd already exchanged fists once, but got dragged apart before they were satisfied. Now, in front of the whole school, the Hufflepuff prefect was demanding payback.
If Roger Davies backed down now, he'd never have peace. So he had no choice but to climb up.
Both were older, skilled students, so the duel was a lot more exciting than Malfoy's easy one-sided thrashings.
Even better, the two couldn't stop arguing while they fought, shouting out scandal after scandal. The gossip was so juicy that even Laos, who'd assumed British students were stiff and boring, was gaping in delight.
Tom was enjoying the drama just as much when someone suddenly called out behind him.
"Riddle!"
"Hm?"
He turned to see a tan-skinned girl waving him over. "What?"
It was Marietta Edgecombe—Cho's friend.
She wore a mischievous smile and pointed toward Cho, who was standing awkwardly by the Ravenclaw stage.
"Cho and I have been practicing the Disarming Charm for ages, but we just can't get it right. Every time we try it fizzles. She thought of you, the genius, but she's too embarrassed to ask you herself. So I came as her friend."
Tom turned his eyes on Cho. For a fleeting moment, their gazes met—then Cho quickly looked away, flustered.
Of course she hadn't actually planned on asking Tom. This was all Marietta's idea about "creating an opportunity." Still, if Cho really hadn't wanted it, she could have stopped her friend from going to him. So to say she had no thoughts at all… wasn't quite true.
Tom smiled. "That's all? Easy enough. Let's go."
Following Marietta over, he came to stand in front of Cho.
"Sorry to trouble you, Tom," Cho said shyly.
He shrugged. "Not trouble at all. No one ever wants to partner with me anyway, so I'm bored stiff. Better to help you than sit around."
Daphne was busy keeping a watchful eye on Astoria so her little sister wouldn't get hurt, while Hermione was tearing through opponents like wildfire—she'd already gone from beating second-years to knocking out fourth-years, and the Gryffindors were looking darker and darker about it.
Cho bit her lip. "Just… don't think I'm hopeless."
"Of course not." Tom waved it off. "But time's short, so let's get started."
She nodded, and she and Marietta stepped apart to duel. They used only the Disarming Charm.
Tom observed Cho closely.
She had a good figure... not bad, give her a few years and—
Huh…Wait. Focus Tom. He snapped his attention back to the spellwork.
It didn't take long to pinpoint her problem.
"Stop a second." Tom raised his hand.
"Did you find something?" Cho handed Marietta's wand back and walked over to him.
"The incantation's fine—your rhythm and tone are spot on. You've succeeded enough to show your intent is there too. The issue is with your wand movement."
He lifted his own wand. "At the start, you're flicking way too hard. That turns the final motion into more of a circle. It should be clean and sharp—one pull, like this."
He demonstrated. Marietta, the unlucky volunteer, had her wand wrenched right out of her hand again.
"Remember: one flick, one lift. And that lift has to be decisive—imagine you're physically knocking your opponent's wand out of their grip."
"I get it."
Cho listened intently and immediately went back to practice with Marietta, whose eyes were practically rolling out of her head.
"Besty, I'm becoming a human target dummy for you. You'd better pay me back for this one day."
Sure enough, under Tom's guidance, Cho's success rate shot up. But a new issue cropped up: her spells were flying too close for comfort, several nearly grazing Marietta.
"Still posture." Tom shook his head. "You're generating power the wrong way. The right form is using your upper arm to guide your forearm—not just snapping the forearm alone."
"Ugh, Riddle," Marietta suddenly chimed in, "that's so complicated. Why don't you just correct her hand directly?"
Cho shot her friend a quick glare but didn't refuse. "Tom… if you think that's okay?"
"That'll definitely be faster." Tom nodded. He lived by hands-on practice himself.
He stepped close, gently taking Cho's arm. "You cast the spell—I'll guide your hand."
Her skin instantly flushed pink, warmth rushing through her body. Her head felt hazy. It wasn't until Tom prompted her that she finally muttered the incantation, almost on autopilot:
"Expelliarmus!"
With that kind of direct guidance, she quickly grasped the right approach: the power behind the motion, the smooth transition from flick to lift.
Magic was often like that—find the key trick, and progress could skyrocket.
By the time Laos announced the end of class, Cho had actually mastered the Disarming Charm.
"Well done, everyone. The next public dueling lesson will be after Halloween. I expect to see real improvement by then. Class dismissed!"
The students filed out of the Great Hall. Cho thanked Tom once more before tugging Marietta away with her.
That night, plenty of people found it hard to sleep. Cho was one of them—the lingering warmth from Tom's hands still made her feel light and tingly.
Draco Malfoy, too, lay awake. Sure, humiliating Weasley had put him in a good mood, but the unfinished duel with Potter gnawed at him.
What grated even worse was the Parseltongue. Why Potter? He was the pureblooded Slytherin heir, from a line of proud graduates. And yet he didn't have the gift—while that scar-headed nobody could command the very snake he had conjured.
Even snakes bowed to him? Seriously? Was he a Potter or a Hisser?
"Next duel, I won't make the same mistake again," Malfoy swore silently.
---
Meanwhile, in Gryffindor Tower—the furthest place from Slytherin—Harry was also lying awake.
Parseltongue haunted his thoughts. Fred had said it was a mark of dark wizards, and that almost everyone in Britain who spoke it had been a Slytherin.
Oh? And hadn't the Sorting Hat told him he'd do well in Slytherin? Did that mean he really was destined to be a bad boy?
No no wait—there were good people in Slytherin too. Tom Riddle, for one.
And after these dueling lessons, Harry had to admit: Slytherins were just plain stronger than the other houses. Even Draco could trounce him and Ron without breaking a sweat.
Had he made the wrong choice after all? Was selecting Slytherin the correct choice?
---
While everyone else tossed and turned, Tom slept like a baby.
In his dream, he'd just received a reward of one million achievement points. With them, he summoned countless legendary teachers from different eras and even other worlds. Life was perfect—he shaped the world to his will and spent his free time bullying Snape.
The smile on Tom's face was as pure as an angel's.
.
.
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Comments
Yash_destroyer
Tom's dream got me lmao 🤣🤣☠️
