The morning after my breakthroughs, I made my way through the winding halls of Hogwarts, a confident smile resting on my lips. The students whispered as I passed — by now, most of them had heard about my endless duel victories, my perfect marks, and my growing reputation as Slughorn's favorite student.
But today wasn't about duels or classes. Today was about recognition.
I pushed open the door to the Potions classroom, the familiar smell of herbs, metal, and magic hanging thick in the air. Slughorn was there already, humming happily as he arranged ingredients on his desk, his round face glowing under the warm torchlight.
"Ah! Tom, my boy!" he greeted the moment he saw me, his walrus mustache twitching with delight. "I was just thinking about you! Haven't seen such brilliance since—well, I don't think I've ever seen it, come to think of it!"
I smiled, the picture of polite confidence. "Professor, I actually came to show you something… something I believe will be of great interest."
He perked up immediately, adjusting his emerald waistcoat. "Oh? You've been brewing again, haven't you? Go on then, let's see what the young genius has come up with this time."
From my enchanted satchel, I drew a small vial of shimmering blue liquid — the Transfiguration Genius Potion. Even under the dim light, it gleamed with an ethereal glow, soft ripples of silver moving through it like liquid thought.
Slughorn's eyes widened the instant he saw it. "Merlin's beard, that's beautiful! What does it do, my boy?"
I met his gaze calmly, enjoying the suspense. "It's a potion designed to enhance one's imagination and focus — directly improving Transfiguration performance. It increases mental clarity and creative visualization, both essential for complex transfiguration work. The effect lasts several hours, with no side effects."
His mouth dropped open slightly as he processed that. "You— you're telling me this can improve one's imagination?"
I nodded once. "Yes, Professor. In essence, it allows a wizard to see beyond the surface of transformation — to truly understand the structure of what they're changing. It's not just memorizing transfiguration theory; it's feeling it."
Slughorn stared at the vial like it was a treasure from the founders' vault. "My dear boy… do you have any idea what this means? The Department of Magical Education would salivate over something like this!"
"That's why," I said smoothly, "I came to you. You have… connections. Influence. I thought perhaps you could help me get it published in The Monthly Potion Review."
At that, Slughorn practically glowed with pride. "Oh, Tom, my boy, you think so highly of me!" He laughed, clutching the vial as though it were gold. "I'll have an owl sent out immediately! Why, the editors there owe me more than a few favors. You leave it to me — I'll make sure your name is on everyone's lips by the end of the week."
I inclined my head graciously. "Thank you, Professor. I knew I could count on you."
He puffed up happily, clearly delighted to be part of my success. "Ah, you truly are one of a kind, Tom. The Ministry will be chasing after you in no time — mark my words! A potion prodigy and a transfiguration genius! Why, you might even end up teaching me something one day."
I laughed softly, polite but measured. "Perhaps, sir."
Three days later, the first owls arrived during breakfast in the Great Hall. The moment I unfolded The Monthly Potion Review, I saw my name printed clearly across the headline:
"Brilliant Young Wizard from Hogwarts Creates Breakthrough Transfiguration Potion."By Horace Slughorn and Tom Riddle.
A hum of astonishment spread through the hall. Even the professors whispered among themselves as they read. Dumbledore gave me a curious, almost knowing look from the staff table, while Slughorn beamed like a proud father, raising his goblet in my direction.
Students turned to stare, whispering:"That's him — the one who created it.""Tom Riddle — the genius from Slytherin.""Slughorn's star pupil."
I let them whisper.
Inside, I felt a quiet satisfaction. Recognition was useful — fame even more so. And influence, once earned, could be molded.
By nightfall, I'd already received several owls — one from a potions supplier in Diagon Alley, another from a minor Ministry researcher offering collaboration. It was only the beginning.
And as I stood by the window of the Slytherin common room, the flickering torchlight dancing over the article in my hand, I smiled faintly.
"Step by step," I murmured, "the wizarding world will learn my name… and soon enough, they'll kneel before it."