— — — — — —
Gilderoy Lockhart.
Back in the day, his fame across the wizarding world wasn't just because of his bestselling books. Sure, he knew how to spin a simple adventure into an epic, pulse-pounding tale—but that wasn't the whole reason people adored him.
He also had the looks. That carefully styled golden hair and that polished smile made him stand out from the usual scruffy crowd of wizards. Plenty of witches had fallen for that dashing image he'd worked so hard to perfect.
Now, though, there was nothing left of the man he used to be.
His once-glorious curls were a tangled mess. His filthy prison robes were stained with oil and dirt. The stench coming off him—whether from his body or his clothes—was strong enough to make anyone gag.
"Riddle... Tom Riddle..."
Lockhart clutched the newspaper in shaking hands, muttering Riddle's name again and again, rage boiling so hot it nearly seared his mind.
Why… why him?!
Everything he'd built, everything he was, had been destroyed by Tom Riddle. From a shining star of the wizarding world to a disgraced fraud rotting in Azkaban—his fame gone, his money stripped away, his name dragged through the mud.
And Riddle? The boy who'd assaulted a professor walked away without so much as a slap on the wrist. No, even worse—he'd been rewarded with a First Class Order of Merlin.
The unfairness of it made Lockhart's vision blur. He wanted nothing more than to jab his wand through the newspaper right into that smug, smiling face.
What crime had he really committed? He just wanted to buy a pet—buy, not steal. Did that really deserve total ruin?
At this moment, the noisy prison suddenly fell silent.
From somewhere deep in the corridors came faint crying, soft at first, then growing clearer. The air turned bitterly cold, the sobs multiplying, echoing from cell to cell. Lockhart froze and held his breath.
He knew what that sound meant. Dementors were coming.
For the prisoners, it was just inspection hour. For the Dementors, it was dinnertime.
Even though he'd braced himself, when several Dementors drifted past his cell, Lockhart felt his very soul turn to ice. His limbs went numb, and memories came rushing back—Riddle hoisting him into the air, the blows raining down, the classroom full of jeering faces.
He wanted to black out just to make it stop.
When the Dementors finally floated away and the chill receded, Lockhart collapsed to the floor, gasping.
All warmth, all joy was gone. Being alive felt meaningless. He might as well already be one of the walking dead.
"No... I can't... I'll get my revenge... Riddle will feel what I felt..."
His trembling hand lifted to his temple. Silvery wisps of memory began to coil out between his fingers.
— — —
Arizona, Thunderbird Sanctuary
"Yo~ I'm back, children!"
Deep in the sanctuary, near the canyon where the Thunderbirds made their nests, Tom let loose completely. Lightning crackled around him as he shot into the sky.
The air filled with shrieking calls as hundreds of Thunderbirds took flight. Storm clouds rolled in, thunder roared, and bolts of lightning danced across the sky, illuminating the majestic creatures soaring after him.
Fleur looked up, eyes full of awe.
Beautiful women had always loved heroes, no matter the time or place.
And Tom Riddle fit her idea of one perfectly—handsome, powerful, untouchable. There was something about him that made her heart ache and her temper flare all at once.
Life with Tom was never boring. He was unpredictable, infuriating, and utterly magnetic. One moment she wanted to throw herself into his arms; the next, well... not suitable for kids.
...
After flying with the Thunderbirds for a while, Tom landed gracefully in front of Fleur, two smaller birds perched on his arms.
Grinning, he ruffled their crests. "Fleur, meet Thunder and Marcy. Last time I came here with Grandpa Newt, these two idiots lost to me in a race."
"Chuu!"
The Thunderbirds squawked indignantly.
Seeing Fleur's eager look, Tom laughed and pulled her closer, guiding her hand to the soft feathers on Marcy's neck. The bird tilted its head helpfully, letting her touch more easily.
Thunderbirds, distant kin to phoenixes, were proud creatures—aloof, untamed, and disinterested in most humans. They weren't classified as class 5 only because they rarely bothered to attack.
Anyone else trying to touch their necks would have been blasted with lightning before they even got close. The first time Tom visited, it had taken Newt's help to earn their trust. Now, Tom himself was the connection.
Fleur adored them. Their white-and-gold plumage radiated majesty, though her part-Veela blood made her instinctively uneasy in their presence. It was a natural reaction—lesser magical creatures always felt suppressed before higher ones.
But Tom was deliberately helping her overcome that instinct. He took her hand again and led her onto Marcy's back. "Come on. Let's camp up in the mountains for a few days and really take to the skies."
With a piercing cry, the Thunderbirds spread their wings and soared toward the highest peak.
Near the nest of the Thunderbird King, Tom set up a tent. From the outside, it looked small and simple, but inside it was as spacious as a luxury apartment, complete with everything they could need.
Under the starlight, they shared a makeshift candlelit dinner.
...
For days, Tom left everything behind—no trials, no magic, no worries. Just him and Fleur, exploring mountains, visiting the nearby Thunderbird village, buying souvenirs for friends back home.
And on the last day, there came a surprise: the seventh trial palace began to glow faintly. It meant his bond with the two pandas, Pearl and Daisy, had reached its peak, and the next challenge was ready.
Tom postponed his return to New York by a day.
He prepared a mountain of food, called over the two pandas, and began the ritual feast.
Of course, the "feast" was mostly ceremonial at this point. Tom had already mastered a spell that let him convert food into pure magical energy almost instantly. No matter how much he ate, he could digest it right away. The only downside was that, after a while, his jaw started going numb.
Finally... After a day and a half of nonstop eating, Pearl finally rolled onto her back, belly round and eyes half-closed, and refused to eat another bite. With that, the seventh trial was complete.
[Seventh Trial: Harmony (Completed)]
[Objective: The host must tame a Giant Panda and defeat it in the field it excels at (adult panda required).]
[Reward: Harmony of Yin and Yang]
[Harmony of Yin and Yang: Everything exists in duality. Only balance leads further.]
[Effect: The host's black and white magic will remain in absolute equilibrium. Mastery of one will temporarily elevate the other.]
---
When Tom claimed his reward, the "Harmony of Yin and Yang" talent took effect immediately, and he could feel the difference almost at once.
Until now, his white magic far outclassed his black magic. But with this new gift, his progress in dark arts became almost effortless, as if a true god were guiding him. His mind worked faster, his control grew sharper—he was in a constant state of transcendence. It wouldn't take long before both sides of his magic reached a perfect balance.
Then came the next challenge—the one that promised to change everything.
[Ninth Trial: Phoenix!]
[Objective: The phoenixes of this world are masters of Apparition. Compete against a fully grown phoenix in a global Apparition race. The starting point is the North Pole, the finish line is the South Pole. The first to complete the round trip wins.]
[Rules: No potions or external aids allowed. The phoenix opponent must fight at full strength.]
[Reward: Detected: Thunderbird bloodline present. Original reward—Phoenix bloodline—will instead fuse and ascend into the Bennu Phoenix bloodline upon completion.]
[Bennu Phoenix Bloodline: A sacred lifeform, ruler of flame. Capable of rebirth from ashes. Purifies all negative effects, immune to curses of equal magical level, and completely resistant to corruption from dark magic.]
(The Bennu bird, originating from Egyptian mythology, is regarded as the progenitor of all phoenix legends. Later phoenixes are considered its descendants, while the Bennu itself is said to have arisen with the birth of the sun god.)
---
Tom's lips curved into a knowing smile.
It was that last line—immunity to dark magic's corruption—that truly caught his heart.
If he gained this bloodline, he wouldn't have to hold back anymore. He could dive headfirst into the study of black magic, push his limits as far as possible, and then use his Yin-Yang Harmony talent to let white magic rise and match it.
A self-sustaining cycle of power. One hand lifting the other until he touched the sky.
He chuckled. "Now that's cheating in style."
Still, the details of the race needed serious thought. He had no idea how fast Fawkes could go when flying—or rather, teleporting—at full speed.
...
Afternoon
Tom and Fleur returned to New York.
At Newt's house, Jacob and Queenie came over for dinner to see them off. Tom had already said he wouldn't be staying in America any longer.
Queenie spent the whole evening chatting with Fleur, her hands clasping the girl's warmly. She had taken a real liking to Fleur—so much so that she'd started teaching her the art of Legilimency, her own specialty.
Thanks to her Veela bloodline, Fleur had a natural affinity for mental magic, so the lessons went surprisingly well.
The two never called it a "teacher and student" relationship, but that's exactly what it was. Fleur treated Queenie with a mix of respect and fondness that felt almost familial.
After dinner, while the women stayed inside talking, Tom and Newt went to the garden.
There, Tom explained the details of the new trial.
"What the—?" Newt blinked, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "Let's set that aside for a second. Did you just say you won a contest by eating more than a panda?"
Newt knew exactly what the previous trial had required—not just taming a panda, but out-eating it.
Tom shrugged. "What's so surprising? I made a spell that speeds up digestion and boosts magical metabolism."
He grinned. "You could use it yourself, actually. Helps with age-related digestion issues."
Newt chuckled and nodded thoughtfully. "You'll have to teach me that. I used to have a healthy appetite, but now even a light meal leaves me stuffed."
Tom smirked. The truth was, that spell would be perfect for Daphne too—combined with her diet potions, she could eat all day long without gaining a pound.
Newt leaned back, mulling over the phoenix part. "Hmm… phoenixes. I can't say I've studied them in depth. They're incredibly rare. But from what I've gathered, their mastery of Apparition far surpasses that of wizards—or even house-elves. Beating one won't be easy."
He thought for a moment, then added, "The longest jump I know of was when Dumbledore used Fawkes to travel from Hogwarts to Versailles. That's well over a thousand kilometers."
"That's not even the impressive part. Unlike wizards, who need time to recover between long-distance Apparitions, phoenixes can keep going continuously. No pauses, no disorientation."
Tom nodded slowly. He could Apparate a thousand kilometers if he poured in enough magic, but as Newt said, it left him dizzy and unfocused for several minutes—hardly ideal for a race.
"Take it slow," Newt said, patting his shoulder. "You've overcome so many impossible challenges already. I've no doubt you'll conquer this one too."
Tom smiled faintly. "You really do have faith in me, don't you?"
"Of course," Newt said warmly. "I've seen what you're capable of."
They lingered a little longer, then went back inside to rejoin Tina and the others' conversation.
As they laughed and talked, Tom's mind was elsewhere. He hadn't forgotten about Picquery—the grudge of Tina still lingered. There hadn't been a good chance to act yet, and it wouldn't look right for him to handle it personally.
But he'd already sent Laos to dig into the Picquery family records and home address. When the time came, he'd make sure everything was settled properly—one way or another.
.
.
.