After teaching his short sighted roommates a painful lesson, Tom's pent up frustration finally drained away. Not completely, but enough that the knot in his chest loosened.
He ordered the three of them to wash up and get into bed as fast as possible. No arguing. No mumbling. No lingering looks.
Only when the dorm finally fell quiet, the steady rhythm of breathing replacing the earlier chaos, did Tom sit back on his mattress and slip into the Learning Space.
The world shifted, and the familiar training ground unfolded around him.
Andros was already there, arms folded, expression impatient.
"Why did you take so long?" he demanded.
Tom had shut down the Learning Space right after the feast, so Andros had no idea what happened afterward. He had been left mid expectation, like a teacher waiting in an empty classroom.
Tom sighed, then explained everything, from Blaise's first sneer to the final crack of the whip.
By the end, Andros threw his head back and laughed so hard his shoulders shook.
"So reality is even more absurd than the books make it sound," he said, amusement dripping from every word. "Pure blood? In front of strength, what is bloodline worth?"
His grin sharpened into something approving.
"Tom, you did well tonight. When it's time to strike, you strike decisively. Too light and it teaches nothing, it scares no one. Too heavy and you alert the teachers. What you did was… just right."
"It's not that simple," Tom said, shaking his head.
This relief was temporary. He could already feel the future like a shadow stretching across the floor.
"This is only the beginning. Watch. There's more trouble coming."
He let out a long breath that sounded far too old for an eleven year old.
"All I want is to study properly. Why did I have to end up in Slytherin?"
Andros snorted, the sound full of disdain, like Tom had just asked why the sky was blue.
"Kid, I didn't want to say it before because I respected your choice. But I've read enough about Hogwarts now. And honestly, Slytherin is the House that suits you best."
Tom stared.
Question marks practically appeared above his head.
"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused.
Andros crossed his arms more tightly. His tone turned serious, almost lecture like, the kind of seriousness that made you sit up without realizing it.
"Knowledge matters to a wizard. It matters a lot. But throughout history, including after my death, I guarantee you one thing."
He tapped the side of his head.
"No wizard became the strongest simply by piling up knowledge."
Tom answered without hesitation, reciting what he believed was the foundation of everything he had learned so far.
"Magic, and will. When the two combine, and you use a spell as the guide, you can change reality."
This time it was Andros who shook his head.
"You're missing one more."
Tom frowned. "What?"
"Emotion."
Tom blinked. "Isn't willpower basically emotion?"
It was a basic theory. More than one textbook mentioned it. But none of them separated willpower and emotion into two distinct pillars.
Andros only smiled, as if Tom had just stepped into the exact trap he wanted.
His seldom used wand appeared again in his hand. He lifted it high overhead.
"Expecto Patronum."
Silver light burst out like a tidal wave.
A giant Patronus manifested, towering and oppressive, its presence filling the Learning Space with the weight of something ancient and untouchable. When Andros spoke, the Patronus spoke too, the voices overlapping, vibrating together like a chord struck in the bones.
"Strong magic. Unshakable will. Overflowing emotion."
Andros took a step forward, and the Patronus's glow sharpened.
"Magic is the root of everything. It's your fuel, your foundation. Will determines whether a spell succeeds at all. The more firmly you decide, the more cleanly you guide your magic through transformation."
Then his eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice deepened.
"But emotion… emotion decides a spell's ceiling."
Tom froze.
Andros did not slow down. He drove the point like a blade.
"Remember this, Tom. Magic is shaped by the mind. The mind can be endless, but it still needs an anchor. That anchor is emotion."
"Talent matters. Yes. But people with powerful emotion often shatter their own limits and reach heights no one thinks possible."
"And the trouble those Slytherins bring you?" Andros spread his hand, almost welcoming it. "That's a trial. A whetstone. It forces you to find the perfect balance between will and emotion."
His Patronus loomed, and the words felt like they were pressing into Tom's chest.
"Treasure this opportunity."
Andros's voice was thunder.
Tom stood there, stunned, as if he had been hit by something invisible.
Because what Andros said was both simple and impossibly profound. Simple in that Tom understood every sentence. Profound in that it brushed the raw heart of magic itself, the kind of truth you could not just memorize and move on. It had to be digested. Absorbed. Turned into your own.
For the first time, Tom activated the Transcendent State.
The world snapped into clarity.
Ten minutes slipped by without a sound. When Tom's unfocused eyes returned to life, something subtle had changed. It was hard to describe, like the air around him had gained a sharper edge. His gaze looked steadier, more present, more awake.
He raised his wand the way Andros had.
"Expecto Patronum."
Silvery mist poured out.
It swirled, gathered, and slowly took shape. A human form, but faint, incomplete. Compared to Andros's giant Patronus with clear features and an overwhelming build, Tom's looked like a rough silhouette carved from fog.
It was only slightly taller than Tom himself.
And yet Andros looked delighted, genuinely delighted, like he had just watched a rare flower bloom in the middle of winter.
Tom had actually reached the stage of forming a solid Patronus on the third day of learning the charm. But Andros had shattered it with his own hands.
The reason was cruel, but practical. Once a Patronus took a fixed form, changing it later was painfully difficult. If Tom locked his Patronus too early, he might never be able to reach the "special" form Andros had achieved.
Andros knew exactly how hard that transformation was. He had bled for it. He would not let Tom walk the same road if he could help it.
And the hardest step was always the first: shaping the Patronus into its initial form.
This time, Andros had only wanted to correct Tom's mindset, to stop him from treating studying like the only thing in the world.
He had not expected an unexpected harvest.
A system notification flashed before Tom's eyes, bright and cold, like a blade of text.
Teacher Andros recognition rate has reached fifty percent, reward drawing in progress, drawing complete
Congratulations host, obtained talent Absolute Justice
Absolute Justice, host's non Dark magic offensive spells gain a power boost, boost scales with host's magic growth
First private teacher recognition rate has reached fifty percent, unlocked function Lead by Example
Lead by Example, teacher may borrow host's body to cast magic, increasing teaching efficiency, time limit five minutes, for each one percent recognition increase time extends by ten seconds, cooldown twenty four hours, host may end the state at any time and regain control
The moment the reward settled into place, Tom's Patronus visibly expanded, swelling like it had inhaled a lungful of light. Its height surged until it stood at two meters tall, the human silhouette now more imposing, more real.
Andros did not know that Tom was not only receiving his teaching but also drawing strength from his talents. He only stared, astonished, and then gave a low laugh of approval.
"Your talent is even stronger than I judged," he admitted. "Looks like I underestimated you."
Tom felt the strange, exhilarating sensation of the human shaped Patronus lingering in his bones. He held it for another heartbeat, then stopped feeding magic into it. The silver form dissolved into mist and faded away.
The Transcendent State had ended, but traces of inspiration still remained, like sparks drifting in his mind. Tom refused to waste them.
He immediately began firing questions at Andros, one after another, the kind of questions even an elite Auror would struggle to answer. Most Aurors were practitioners, people skilled with technique, not necessarily with theory.
Andros, however, treated those questions like warm up exercises.
In his era, technique had not yet matured into the streamlined system modern wizards relied on. If you wanted to reach a high level back then, you had to understand the theory yourself. You had to dig until you struck the bedrock.
So despite his brutal warrior vibe and his openly combative nature, Andros was, in truth, an academic monster.
An hour later, they finally stopped.
Before Tom left, Andros taught him two more spells. They were not new spells Andros had recently learned. They were older, ancient style magic, but relatively simple in function.
One spell detected poison in food.
The other was a trigger type trap. If someone tried to ambush you, it would activate automatically and form a protective barrier.
Tom memorized both carefully.
Then he opened his eyes and returned to the dorm.
The other three boys were already asleep, breathing deeply, sprawled in the careless way children did when they believed tomorrow could not hurt them.
Tom lay back down.
And could not sleep.
He had truly felt the Transcendent State's power now. In a crucial moment, ten minutes could equal ten days, maybe even half a month of grinding practice.
His gaze slid to the system panel. Three hundred plus credits.
Not enough. Not even close.
Tom sighed into the darkness, the sound barely audible.
"When am I ever going to be rich…"
And in the quiet, with the ceiling pressing down like a lid, one question hovered in his mind.
If ten minutes could change him this much, what would happen the next time he entered that state, and what would it cost him to do it again?