The living n in the office remained silent.
Snape stood at the door, arms crossed, his expression dark, as though he had co simply to enjoy the spectacle.
Other than Phineas, the other headmasters in the portraits were no less displeased with Tom.
A student attacking a professor? How could such a thing be tolerated?
This wasn't just a troubleso student anymore—it was a problem demanding a heavy hand.
If today he dared strike a professor, what was to stop him from challenging the Headmaster tomorrow?
Still, the others weren't as brash as Phineas. Dead headmasters were ant to offer counsel to the living, not make decisions for them.
"A corpse barking orders… Phineas, why don't you co out and take the Headmaster's seat again yourself?"
"You—you dare mock ?!" Phineas roared, his painted eyes bulging in outrage.
"Not only dare I mock you," Tom sneered, raising his wand, "I'll shut you up as well. Levicorpus."
The fra of Phineas's portrait flipped upside down, the entire painted scene inverted.
"Hey! What have you done to my ho? Put it back—"
A heavy curtain fell across the fra, smothering Phineas's shrill protests into silence.
In another portrait, Armando Dippet rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Levicorpus used like this? Hm. When I get out, I must ask Riddle about it. It was my spell, yet this boy uses it more deftly than I ever did…
Snape, anwhile, wasn't remotely worried that Dumbledore would expel Tom as Phineas had claid. For the sake of one incompetent fool, would he really cast out a boy with such staggering potential? Only an idiot like Phineas would think so.
"Ah…"
Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Mr. Riddle, your temper… it is far too volatile."
"Professor," Tom replied with a small smile, "I think you should be thanking ."
"Thanking you?" Dumbledore blinked.
From Tom's pocket, Usagi wriggled free. Stroking its scaled head, Tom spoke softly:
"Lockhart tried to insult Usagi with gold. If I hadn't stopped him, he'd already be a sar of flesh on the floor. Tell , Professor—which is more serious? A professor beaten bloody, or a professor killed outright?"
Dumbledore gave a bitter smile.
He couldn't call that re sophistry. The logic was… uncomfortably sound.
Phoenixes were proud creatures. If anyone had ever dared offer Galleons to buy Fawkes, the bird would have burned the offender to ash in an instant. It was only Dumbledore's reputation that kept such thoughts unspoken.
But Usagi was stronger than Fawkes—stronger, prouder, and far less forgiving.
Tom's only weakness was his youth. Too many still thought him easy prey.
"I cannot deny that," Snape drawled suddenly, his tone silky but sharp. "Dumbledore, you truly ought to thank Riddle. If he hadn't intervened, Lockhart would be a corpse by now, killed by a student's beast. And you, the Headmaster who hired him, would be nailed beside him on the pillar of sha."
"But he is still a professor…" Dumbledore murmured with a weary grimace. Inviting Snape here had been a mistake—he had only sharpened Tom's blade further.
"Headmaster Dumbledore!"
Tom's voice cut sharply across the room, bold enough to make even Snape blink in surprise.
Riddle… do you truly see him as so kindly old fool you can speak to this way?
"I want to ask one question," Tom said, eyes locked on Dumbledore's. His gaze was keen, even challenging. "What is the duty of a professor?"
Dumbledore paused in thought. At last, he answered softly, "To help students beco better people… and better wizards."
"I very much agree."
Tom nodded earnestly. "Take Professor McGonagall, for example. She may be Head of Gryffindor, but she treats every student with genuine care. Her mastery of Transfiguration is second only to yours, Professor. In all of Britain, no other witch or wizard surpasses her in that art."
Dumbledore's lips curved into an involuntary smile. Tom's words were sincere, and his recognition of McGonagall ward him.
"And at the very least," Tom went on, "a professor should be like Professor Snape."
Snape stiffened, eyes widening.
What the—?
I ca here to shield you, boy! I spoke up in your defense, and now you're using as a cautionary example?
In this mont, Snape swore that if the Killing Curse were cast at Tom, he'd unleash the strongest Avada Kedavra of his life.
Feigning ignorance of Snape's glare, Tom continued smoothly: "Yes, Professor Snape's manner may be… less than pleasant. But at the very least, he fulfills the fundantal duty of transmitting knowledge. He teaches, and he teaches competently."
"Now, what about the man you hired—Lockhart?"
Tom's lip curled into a cold sneer.
"Even I can see it. He's nothing but a fool spouting lies. Not a word of truth in his books. rlin only knows from whom he stole those stories."
"I do not believe that the greatest wizard of our century cannot see through his charade."
"Tom," Dumbledore's tone deepened, "sotis the lessons you must learn from a professor are not limited to the spells they teach. More important than their instruction is what you take away for yourself—lessons, warnings, reminders."
"So," Tom pressed forward, planting both hands firmly on the desk, voice low but biting, "you intend to waste an entire school year, just so the only thing students gain is the lesson to value honesty—and the chance to see through one fraud?"
His eyes narrowed, his words like knives.
"Headmaster, even if you are Headmaster, are the thoughts of students to be dismissed so easily?"
Dumbledore's lips pressed tight. He fell into silence.
Snape stared, utterly dumbfounded, his wand sliding unconsciously into his hand.
One thought filled his mind, pounding like thunder.
Brave.
So bloody brave!
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