"Tom, you are putting me in a rather precarious position."
Dumbledore hoped Tom would confide in him.
"Then, by all means, do not trouble yourself. Simply gather your belongings and await your inevitable dismissal notice from the Board of Governors."
Tom was clearly unmoved.
"Hmph! Very well, I shall leave! But without me, where will you possibly find a suitable Headmaster?"
"I believe Professor McGonagall is quite capable."
"..."
Dumbledore was taken aback that Tom had considered a replacement. His earlier show of defiance crumbled.
"Ahem, Tom, perhaps there is room for discussion after all."
Dumbledore still appeared troubled. "However, you must tell me what you intend for Harry and the others to do during this extended leave."
"Oh, nothing of great import."
Tom's placid expression belied the explosive nature of his words: "Merely to have them slay that socket-wielding devil."
"..."
Dumbledore's face cycled rapidly through confusion, bewilderment, and finally, disbelief.
Every professor present understood that the "socket sprite" Tom spoke of was Voldemort, a name Tom had invoked frequently.
"Professor Tom!"
Filius Flitwick nearly tumbled from his chair in shock. "Are you jesting? That is...that is..."
He glanced nervously between Tom and Cassandra below. The usually composed and affable professor was momentarily robbed of speech.
Yet, this reaction was understandable. The notion of a newly of-age wizard defeating a powerful and exceptionally dangerous legendary wizard would elicit the same response from anyone—save, of course, Dumbledore.
Especially since the wizards being sent on this impossible mission were his own students.
Minerva McGonagall interjected, "That is another Dark Lord! Others might be unaware, but surely you know your own limitations, Professor?"
She attempted to keep her voice down, but her anxiety was palpable.
"No, you overestimate him."
Tom picked up a glass of crimson liqueur, swirling it gently. The clear liquid reflected the dangerous glint in his serpentine eyes. "Do not overly mythologize either him or us. We are merely wizards with a degree of power, not invincible beings."
"..."
Bragging, are we?
The professors simply assumed Tom was intoxicated.
"While Tom is undoubtedly exceptional, this Voldemort is far inferior."
Gellert Grindelwald added, confident in Tom's invincibility, but clear that Voldemort was not. Even he himself could exchange blows with Voldemort.
"..."
The professors did not dispute this.
Had it merely been a question of whether the remnant soul could be defeated, they might have believed it.
But the core issue was that the group facing this dangerous, legendary wizard consisted mostly of students barely of age!
They could not fathom how a handful of fledgling wizards could possibly defeat Voldemort, who had once held the entire wizarding world in terror.
"Professor, you must understand, they are still children."
Minerva McGonagall's expression was stern. "Are there not stronger, more experienced Aurors available? Why not involve the Ministry?"
Clearly, Minerva McGonagall was deeply protective of her students.
"Age is irrelevant."
Tom sipped his sweet wine. "When I was their age, I had already bested Dumbledore, and Dumbledore was certainly more formidable then than he is now."
"..."
That could have remained unsaid, thank you very much.
Dumbledore cast a sharp glance at his rebellious student, who seemed to take pleasure in recounting his mentor's defeat.
"..."
The other professors were momentarily speechless.
Filius Flitwick pressed on, "Can these situations truly be compared?"
Minerva McGonagall chimed in, "Not everyone is as...unique as you, Professor."
"Professor Nagini, are you not going to attempt to persuade Professor Tom?"
Pomona Sprout gently prompted Nagini beside her.
Nagini, however, seemed unconcerned. "Actually, I believe Tom makes a valid point."
"..."
Very well, these two are clearly in league.
Pomona Sprout decided to concede defeat.
Tom turned his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he regarded Nagini. His gaze then shifted to the inebriated Sybill Trelawney. "And did not Professor Trelawney predict that the noseless one should be dealt with by Harry, no?"
!!
Trelawney, previously deep in her cups, snapped awake at the sound of her name.
Especially when it was Tom who called her name; her drunkenness vanished instantly.
"Uh...this...that..."
Noticing the other professors' gazes fixed upon her, Sybill Trelawney grew even more flustered. "Should...shouldn't I have?"
The sky is falling!
How could she know if others did not?
Even if Dumbledore had said those predictions were his own, she had absolutely no recollection of making them.
She only remembered falling asleep drunk... and then, upon waking, Dumbledore was thanking her for her insightful predictions. But she had merely been asleep!
She couldn't distinguish between a genuine prophecy and drunken ramblings.
"..."
The professors were somewhat silent, but it was clear they were not entirely convinced by this explanation.
Though colleagues, they were familiar with Trelawney's dubious talents; while not always a liability, she was almost always unhelpful.
Before they could voice further objections, Dumbledore made the final decision. "Very well, that is settled."
He then abruptly turned his head, his gaze settling on Tom's brow. "You little rascal, ensure they return in time for their N.E.W.T. exams."
Tom retorted impatiently, "You are the one becoming senile, not I. Do not feel the need to remind me."
The professors were speechless; after all, Dumbledore had spoken.
Minerva McGonagall, however, continued to fix her displeased gaze on Dumbledore; clearly, the old man was about to face another stern lecture.
"Professor Tom, since Harry and the others insist on going..."
Filius Flitwick adopted a more conciliatory tone. "Would you perhaps consider accompanying them? Truthfully, we are rarely overburdened. Losing a professor would hardly make a significant difference."
"What about your salary?"
Tom inquired with apparent interest.
"It would not be reduced. Perhaps we could deduct Albus's portion and add it to yours."
Minerva McGonagall's words stunned Dumbledore.
He was about to protest when Minerva McGonagall silenced him with a sharp glare.
Gellert Grindelwald, suppressing a laugh, pulled Dumbledore close. "It is quite alright, Al. I still receive a salary to support you."
"Your salary as a doorman is the lowest in the entire school."
Dumbledore's words pierced Gellert Grindelwald's heart like a volley of needles.
"..."
---