— — — — — —
Dealing with a fire dragon corpse wasn't just delicate work—it was a massive undertaking.
The thing was over ten meters long, and just stripping the scales, skinning it, removing the flesh, and sorting out the bones took forever.
Then there was the categorizing and processing of all the materials. Nothing could go to waste.
Fleur had originally offered to help, but the moment she saw the bloody remains, her legs went weak. Instead of helping, she just got in the way—so Tom gently kicked her out before she caused a mess.
Huffing with frustration, the part-Veela girl felt like he'd underestimated her, so she threw herself into support duties instead. She started preparing tasty meals for him every day, even dragged a few Veela over to give him full-body massages after long hours of work.
Tom couldn't really complain—he was exhausted, sure, but also pampered into bliss.
And nights weren't any quieter. The two "Kings of the Century" took turns drilling him relentlessly. His progress had practically shot through the roof.
At first, Tom had been planning to lay low once school started, maybe avoid Snape for a while and let that whole Christmas gift thing blow over.
But now? Avoid him?
Bring it on. He was ready for a showdown.
— — —
Three days later
The dragon's remains were finally processed. And in his spare time, Tom had brewed another batch of high body-enhancing potion.
This time, it went way smoother. With experience under his belt, he didn't run into any issues at all.
He'd only used one-fifth of the dragon's heart so far. The real problem was that he'd completely run out of sphinx eyes. Still, he managed to brew 20 full vials.
After testing one on himself, the results were exactly what he expected—there was still an effect, but it wasn't nearly as strong as last time.
Not surprising, really. He'd already fused with the fire dragon's bloodline. Any further enhancement from the potion was bound to hit diminishing returns.
Still, a benefit's a benefit. Even if it's small, he wasn't about to waste it.
Of course, twenty vials were more than he needed for himself, which gave him an idea.
He sold one to Fleur for 1,100 Galleons. First bottle free as a trail (to hold it)—payment only after she used it.
Just normal marketing strategy.
There was no way he'd just give it away. Right now, the only person who could get this kind of potion from Tom for free was Daphne. She had helped him unconditionally from the start, and she held a special place in his heart.
As for Fleur… they were getting close, sure. But not that close.
Besides, selling it to her at all was already a sign of trust. If it were Malfoy asking? Even at 10,000 Galleons… okay, fine—if he really offered that much, Tom might reconsider.
But Fleur, being on a family visit, obviously didn't have that kind of money on her. She didn't even understand what made this potion so special. A thousand Galleons? That was more than Felix Felicis, and that stuff was already outrageously expensive.
Polana didn't know the ingredients either, but didn't hesitate for a second—she paid for Fleur without even blinking.
At this point, Tom could've sold her a bunch of weeds for 1,000 Galleons and she'd still fork it over.
The moment Fleur drank the potion and followed Tom's instructions for the accompanying exercises, she realized she'd hit the jackpot.
There weren't many things in the magical world that directly increased power. Most enhancements came from enchanted items or alchemical tools. But this potion? Once absorbed, she could feel the changes happening in her body.
More energy. Sharper thoughts. A deeper well of magic.
"Do you have more?" Fleur's eyes were practically glowing as she stared at him like he was the last chocolate frog on Earth. "I'll take all of it—however much you've got."
Tom thought for a moment. "I can give you four bottles, max."
He needed to save a few for Daphne. And probably for Hermione too, though he hadn't decided what he wanted in return from her yet.
As for himself? After another bottle or two, the effects would probably stop completely.
"Just four? Tom, come on. Give me a couple more…"
Fleur pouted, clinging to his arm and swaying side to side. With her tearful, pleading eyes and soft voice, she could've melted just about anyone on the spot.
But Tom had been hardened by days of training in the Veela village. His willpower was like tempered steel now—he wasn't budging.
So Fleur went for the nuclear option.
"What about Gabrielle?" she said, batting her lashes. "You're not going to give any to her?"
Gabrielle had grown super attached to Tom lately. When she was around, Tom was always so patient with her.
The little one had even started sleeping at his place instead of going home. Polana had begun to wonder if maybe she'd picked the wrong sister and should've waited until Gabrielle was older before playing matchmaker.
And just like that—Tom hesitated.
But after a pause, he shook his head. "It's not that I don't want to. Gabrielle's just a bit too young right now. Once she starts school, it'll be fine."
"I'm also missing a key ingredient. If you manage to get your hands on some sphinx eyes, send them to Hogwarts. I'll brew another batch then."
Seeing that Tom wasn't going to budge, Fleur finally gave up—though her clenched teeth said she wasn't done being annoyed.
'Ugh, that jerk!'
Her flirting, her puppy eyes—none of it worked. But mention Gabrielle once and suddenly he gets all thoughtful and careful?
Tom, blissfully unaware that Fleur was now jealous of her own sister, handed her the four vials and gave some final instructions.
"Don't rush and use them all at once. If you want to fully absorb the effects, take one bottle per month. And don't slack off on the exercises I showed you—they'll help your body absorb the potion faster."
Everyone's body reacted differently. Tom could take one every week, no problem, but Fleur's physical foundation was a bit weaker. Slower wasn't worse—just safer.
But the moment she heard that, her mood dipped.
"…So you're leaving?"
Right. They were students at different schools—Fleur at Beauxbatons, Tom at Hogwarts. This had just been a holiday visit. It was almost time to say goodbye.
Tom gave a small nod. "This trip turned out better than I could've hoped. School starts the day after tomorrow. I figured I'd head back tomorrow."
"Can you stay just one more day?" Fleur suddenly grabbed his hand, her eyes shimmering. "My parents are coming. They want to thank you in person."
Tom looked a little uncomfortable. "That's… not really necessary."
Fleur gave him a pleading look. "You know how to Apparate. Even if you leave early in the morning, you'll still make it to King's Cross by eleven. Just stay a bit longer… please? Spend the day with me. And Gabrielle."
Tom sighed—and relented.
He'd already removed the Trace from his wand using a Confundus Charm, so casting spells outside of school wouldn't be a problem. If he left early in the morning, getting to London in time was easy.
---
The next day, Tom gave himself a complete break—not even using the free hour in his Study space.
He spent the morning with Gabrielle, helping her build a castle out of magical building blocks. When they were done, he cast a Permanent Sticking Charm on it so it wouldn't fall apart, even if they brought it home.
Around noon, Fleur's parents arrived.
"Mr. Riddle, thank you for saving my daughter," Monsieur Delacour said the moment he stepped inside, seizing Tom's hand with emotion. "If anything had happened to Fleur, I don't know what I would've done…"
Monsieur Delacour was a man in his forties, balding, barely 5'10", and a bit on the chubby side. Honestly, he looked like the kind of NPC you could run into on any Muggle street.
He explained why it had taken them so long to visit: he was the Director of Emergency Response at the French Ministry of Magic, and the holidays had been absolutely chaotic. He'd handled hundreds of cases, most involving roaming wizards from the north. Today's visit was squeezed in on a rare day off—he still had to go back in and work overtime tonight.
Suddenly, Tom understood why the guy was balding. And thank Merlin, Fleur and Gabrielle had inherited their looks from their mother.
Madame Apolline Delacour was like a Fleur "Pro" edition—more mature, poised, and at forty, still looked barely past thirty.
Fleur Pro + Fleur herself + Mini Fleur. Put the three of them together and no one would doubt for a second they were related.
Madame Delacour also thanked Tom, but her attention quickly shifted to sizing him up. She gave him a long, thorough once-over… and the more she looked, the more satisfied she seemed.
Polana had clearly already shared her matchmaking plans in a letter, so at this point, the only one still in the dark was Monsieur Delacour. His wife was already evaluating Tom like a future son-in-law.
.
.
.