(600 power stones Bonus)
— — — — — —
"I have to invent a flying spell."
As he sprinted through the Forbidden Forest, Tom's words echoed in the Study Space.
He didn't care if a flying spell was actually faster than his usual Speed + Feather-light Charm or not. He just knew it'd look a hell of a lot cooler.
Right now, though? Between the wind resistance and sheer speed, he'd already defaulted into the classic "ninja run." Branches whipped past him, flocks of startled birds scattered into the sky, and a few timid magical beasts fled from their territories in panic.
Inside the Study Space, Grindelwald had just been pulled out of Nurmengard, and Andros had jolted awake from his nap.
"…What on earth is going on?" Andros asked, eyes squinting at the blur rushing by Tom's vision.
"My unicorn's in danger. I'm heading there now. And I need my flying spell."
Tom didn't even need to guess who was behind it—Quirrell, obviously. The man alone wasn't much of a threat… but with Voldemort involved, things got serious. If needed, he was ready to call on Andros for a real fight. It would be Jinchūriki vs. Jinchūriki. No other way.
Grindelwald clicked his tongue. "Why not just Apparate? No need for flashy spells—pure style, no substance."
"Or use Transfiguration," Andros added. "Condense the air into solid steps and run through the sky."
Tom sneered. "If you can't do it, just say so. No wonder the books call you a dark wizard. At least Voldemort got an upgrade—Dark Lord sounds way cooler."
Grindelwald didn't care for the jab—it barely scratched the surface—but Tom wasn't done.
"Well, to be fair, Dumbledore just sent Newt Scamander to take you down. Meanwhile, he has spent half his life stressing over Voldemort. Really makes you think, huh?"
Grindelwald snapped.
"I'm not weaker than him!!!"
He could accept others being strong. But Dumbledore caring more about someone else? That was unforgivable.
"Nobody knows dark magic better than me! I ruled the continent while that Voldemort brat was still figuring out how to hold a wand!"
"Then shut up and prove it. Come up with a flying spell and slap me in the face with it."
That did it. Grindelwald stopped talking and started thinking—hard. Tom smirked to himself. He knew it was bait, but the best bait has truth at its core. And the old man definitely wanted to outshine Voldemort.
Tom pushed on, following the direction his unicorn token kept pulling him toward, twisting and turning through the forest.
He could hear her distressed cries in the distance.
Finally, after weaving through a thick grove of birch trees, Tom saw them.
A shadow—long and serpentine—was streaking across the forest floor, chasing the panicked unicorn. Bolts of eerie green light shot from the figure, each strike narrowly dodged or grazing the unicorn's silver coat, leaving streaks of blood.
Tom's expression hardened. He didn't slow down—just raised his wand and fired a Blasting Curse, predicting the shadow's next move.
BOOM.
Dirt and rock exploded. The dark figure was forced to stop.
A hooded man slowly stood from behind a bush, voice rough and cold. "Stay out of things that don't concern you, kid—"
"You've got some nerve touching my unicorn."
Tom stepped between the attacker and the unicorn, who had finally collapsed beneath a massive tree, panting heavily. The sweat mixed with silver blood, glistening like liquid moonlight. It was tragically beautiful.
The unicorn gave a weak cry. Tom could feel her pain and frustration—but there was no time to comfort her. His eyes stayed locked on the enemy.
ZING—!
A curse came flying out of nowhere. It slammed into Tom's Shield Charm and bounced off, bursting a tree behind him.
Quirrell was getting anxious. He had no idea how Tom had gotten here so fast. He wanted to run—the noise risked attracting others—but Voldemort's voice hissed in his mind: 'Kill him. Drink the unicorn's blood. NOW.'
No choice. He raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The Killing Curse surged forward, green and deadly. Shield Charms were useless against it. Either you canceled it with a spell of equal power… or used a magical creature with enough life force to tank the hit.
This was one of the reasons Voldemort feared Dumbledore—because the old man could summon a literal army of Transfigured beasts, completely neutralizing Voldemort's strongest weapon.
But Tom didn't dodge.
His eyes flashed gold. With a roar, he fired a searing red spell straight into the path of the Killing Curse. The two collided in a crackling explosion of light and energy.
Tom used his dragon trait.
A crushing wave of magical pressure burst from his body. Quirrell's mind reeled. A dragon's roar shattered his thoughts, leaving him dazed, his grip slackening on the wand.
The green light fizzled out, overtaken by Tom's raw power.
"Oh no!"
Quirrell snapped back just in time to dive out of the way. He scrambled to his feet, quickly drawing circles in the air.
Suddenly, the ground split open—and a massive python surged up, fangs bared, lunging for Tom.
"I was waiting," Tom just waved his wand.
CRACK—!
A huge wooden arm burst from a tree beside them, grabbing the snake by the throat. The entire tree yanked itself out of the ground and tackled the python, turning into a whirl of snapping branches and flying blood.
"Sectumsempra!
Tom slashed his wand—Snape's Signature spell, the Laceration Curse, invisible and silent, sliced through the air. Quirrell didn't even see it coming before it struck.
He screamed in agony.
Quirrell wasn't weak—on the contrary, he was a top-tier graduate of Ravenclaw and had learned plenty of dark magic under Voldemort's tutelage this past year.
That clueless classroom act? Just a disguise.
But he hadn't taken Tom seriously, and now he was completely overwhelmed—he'd never stood a chance.
The hooded figure lay face-down, unmoving.
"Sectumsempra!" "Sectumsempra!"
Tom fired a few more invisible slashes, cutting the giant snake into bloody pieces, then, to be sure, he pointed his wand at Quirrell.
"Reducto."
The spell fired like a bullet, but the "Quirrell" on the ground suddenly moved—his body twisting unnaturally, like a snake. He dodged the curse with eerie grace and then straightened himself up.
Tom's face darkened.
It was still Quirrell... but he wasn't the one in control anymore.
The air thickened, heavy with killing intent. In the middle of a warm spring afternoon, frost began to form on the shrubs and tree branches.
"Die, brat!"
A beam of dark magic burst from the wand's tip, shooting straight for Tom with terrifying force.
The spell locked on—Tom could feel it. Instinct told him it didn't matter how fast or where he dodged. He would be hit.
"Let me take over!" Andros roared from the learning space.
"Fine, go ahead!" Tom didn't hesitate. He immediately activated the Embodied Learning Mode, aka Jinchūriki Mode.
In the blink of an eye, his energy shifted. His presence changed. He didn't even raise his wand. A brilliant white light flared in his left hand—and when the black spell struck it, there was an earth-shattering explosion.
A shockwave tore through the forest, followed by a deafening boom.
Under the hood, Voldemort's eyes went wide in disbelief.
What the hell?!
---
Farther away in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid was trudging along with Fang, Harry, and Ron. They were in the middle of serving detention.
Hagrid, leading the way with his massive frame, gave the boys a strange sense of security despite the eerie forest around them.
"Look over there," he suddenly said, pointing off to the right. "See that glint on the ground? Silvery white—that's unicorn blood. One of the forest's unicorns was attacked. Worse still, we found a dead one last week."
"Merlin's beard," Harry muttered. "What kind of monster would do that?"
"We've gotta find that poor creature and ease its pain," Hagrid said grimly.
"But what if whatever attacked it finds us first?" Ron asked, his voice shaking.
"As long as you stay with me and Fang, nothing in this forest will harm you," Hagrid promised.
Right then, a huge explosion rocked the forest. A shockwave tore through the trees—branches trembled, some even snapped under the pressure.
"What in the—?!" Hagrid's expression changed instantly. He charged toward the sound, Harry and Ron scrambling to keep up. Hoofbeats pounded behind them—several black shapes emerged through the trees.
"Centaurs!" Ron yelped.
"They won't hurt you!" Hagrid shouted without turning back.
The explosions didn't stop. Wave after wave of magical blasts shook the woods. When the group finally broke through a line of ancient trees, the scene before them stopped them dead in their tracks.
"Tom?!"
They saw him—Tom Riddle—facing off against a hooded figure. But it wasn't just the duel that shocked them.
The entire forest clearing looked like a war zone. The earth was sunken and cratered like it had been hit by meteors. Everything ahead of them—trees, brush, even the forest floor—was scorched and obliterated. Only the trees behind them still stood.
It looked like a battleground of gods.
"Watch closely, Tom!" Andros' voice echoed to Tom in the study space. "This is how a Patronus should be used. This is the reason they called me Andros the Invincible!"
Andros was buzzing with excitement. This wasn't just a simulation or a demonstration. He was finally up against a real opponent worthy of his power.
And it lit the fire of battle that had lain dormant for thousands of years.
White light burst from Tom's wand, flooding the entire forest in radiant brilliance. It wasn't just magic—it was power incarnate. The energy surged back into Tom, wrapping him in a glowing aura.
Then, like a cannonball, Tom shot forward.
He raised a massive, glowing fist and swung straight at Quirrell.
Voldemort tried to dodge using Quirrell's already-weakened body—he'd burned most of his stolen unicorn power in the last few days. Panic flared inside him.
How could Tom be this strong?! He felt like he was fighting a wizard on par with his former self.
He shifted Quirrell's body to the side, barely avoiding the blow—
"Petrificus Totalus!" Tom suddenly shouted.
There was no wand movement. No flash of light. But the spell hit.
Quirrell's body froze mid-motion, eyes wide open in horror. Then Tom's radiant fist slammed into him.
His chest caved in with a sickening crunch, and he was sent flying like he'd been hit by a freight train, crashing through tree after tree as his screams echoed across the forest.
He finally landed with a brutal thud. And in the flickering light of Tom's magic, Harry could see the hooded figure's body dissolve into a shadowy mist, slithering away like a snake—wrapping around a tree and vanishing into the forest.
"What the hell... was that thing made of jelly?!" Andros muttered, stunned that Voldemort could still slip away after that.
"Dark magic. Body modification," Grindelwald, who had watched the entire battle from the study space, explained calmly. "His body's been warped to absorb physical impact—but your punch was infused with magic. That damage went deep."
"So Patronuses can be weaponized like that?" Tom asked, exiting Embodied Mode.
Andros returned to the study space and eyed Grindelwald curiously.
"Wait—can you, a Dark wizard, even cast a Patronus? What's the point of us talking about this?"
Grindelwald stared at him in silence.
---
Back in the real world, Tom remained perfectly still. The Embodied mode hadn't fully worn off yet, and he was trying to commit every sensation and insight to memory.
Only after his body settled did he finally turn around.
The other trio—Hagrid, Harry, Ron—and one nervous dog, stared at him in stunned silence.
Hagrid, shaking, raised his massive hand like a shield.
"Y-Y-You... stay right there, alright? Don't come any closer!"
"I have hands and I'm not afraid t.. to use them."
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