Tom didn’t have any cheat codes or magical advantages, but maybe because he’d lived two lives, his memory was far better than average. Not photographic, but close—and he had a knack for learning fast.
People often assume academic competitions are only a thing in Eastern countries, but British schools have their fair share too.
Thanks to prize money from various contests, school grants, government aid, and even a few TV appearances, Tom had managed to build up a decent amount of savings.
What he pulled out from the drawer earlier was just pocket money. He still had £40,000 quietly sitting in a bank account, earning interest.
When Dumbledore found out how resourceful Tom was, he couldn’t help but give him a thumbs-up, genuinely impressed.
After saying goodbye to Ms. Allman, Tom left the orphanage with Dumbledore.
Normally, someone like Allman wouldn’t let any of the kids leave so easily, but Tom’s maturity and capability had earned him a lot of trust over the years.
...Though, maybe Dumbledore had secretly used a bit of magic to help ease the process?
As they walked down a shaded path, Dumbledore didn’t bother using any magical shortcuts. Instead, he seemed to enjoy the stroll, chatting with Tom like a kindly old uncle, asking about his life and experiences.
Tom didn’t hide anything. He told the truth.
He’d been abandoned as a baby, left at an orphanage with nothing but a name and a surname. His parents had disappeared from his life entirely. The next time he heard anything about them, it was through a news report about a plane crash. No inheritance—just debts. Thankfully, he wasn’t legally required to pay them off.
After hearing all this, Dumbledore’s smile faltered slightly.
Stuff wasn’t unheard of in the Muggle world. Some people, after unexpected pregnancies and with abortion laws being strict, would go ahead and have the child—then abandon them to the state.
And they’d just go on living their lives, carefree. Meanwhile, the government—or people like Allman—were left to clean up the mess.
Dumbledore sighed. The magical world in England was in dire need of fresh blood. Families like the Weasleys were the exception. Six boys and one girl—any pure-blood family would kill for that kind of size.
Plenty of wizards secretly wished they’d married Molly Weasley. If they had, their family tree might be thriving too.
Same country, different fates.
"I noticed the kids at the orphanage seem a little... scared of you?" Dumbledore asked casually as they walked.
Even when they left, that boy named Seth was still obediently punching a sandbag like Tom had told him to.
That scene... it reminded Dumbledore of some rather unpleasant memories.
"Sir," Tom stopped walking and looked up at him. Dumbledore’s beard was too thick to see his face clearly, but Tom could meet his deep, wise eyes.
"Do you know what an orphan fears the most?"
Dumbledore gave him his full attention.
"It’s being seen as weak."
Tom’s voice was calm. "If people realize you’re an easy target, they’ll try to push you around just to feel powerful. So the best way to avoid being bullied... is to become someone others are too afraid to mess with."
Dumbledore’s eyes widened a little, and his beard twitched ever so slightly.
"Of course, I’m not bullying Seth," Tom added quickly, a little awkward. "He’s my friend. I’m just teaching him how to defend himself. He’s starting secondary school soon—he’ll need to be able to protect himself."
"He’ll appreciate that, someday," Dumbledore said warmly. He remembered Seth’s determined little face as he trained and could tell the bond between the two boys was genuine.
"I have a feeling you might end up in Hufflepuff," he said with a chuckle. "Assuming you don’t, you know, actually bully people."
"Hufflepuff? What’s that?"
"It’s one of the school Houses. All four are wonderful in their own way..."
As they talked, their shadows stretched out behind them, eventually vanishing into the elm-lined road.
After taking a train and then switching to the Underground, they finally arrived—an hour and a half later—at the entrance to Diagon Alley: the Leaky Cauldron.
It looked as dingy and rundown as its name suggested.
Three in the afternoon wasn’t exactly peak hours, so only a few patrons were scattered across the tables.
The moment they saw Dumbledore, however, every wizard in the room stood up, nervously greeting him. Even the hunched bartender, who was wiping down the counter with a suspiciously dirty rag, hurried over with a big grin.
"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore!"
"Good afternoon, Tom—ah, I suppose we have two Toms here today," Dumbledore said with a chuckle.
He turned to introduce them. "Mr. Riddle, this is Tom, the innkeeper. Funny coincidence, isn’t it? Tom, this young man here is a first-year student—I’m helping him pick up his school supplies."
"Fate, I tell you! What a pleasure, young Tom," the bartender laughed. British Toms might not number in the tens of thousands, but still, meeting two in one afternoon was amusing enough.
And since Dumbledore was clearly fond of the boy, the innkeeper turned the charm up a notch.
"After you’re done shopping, come back for a drink—on the house. Butterbeer, of course. No alcohol."
"Sounds like a plan," Dumbledore agreed. "We’ll hurry, then. See you later, Tom."
"See you soon, Professor!"
Dumbledore led young Tom through the pub and into a small, walled courtyard behind it. He pulled out a wand, knobby and gnarled, and explained how to open the entrance to Diagon Alley.
"Three up, two across..."
With three quick taps of the wand, the bricks shifted and pulled apart, revealing a wide archway. The sounds of laughter, chatter, and bustling crowds spilled out instantly.
Tom’s eyes lit up at the sight of the lively street beyond.
"The magical world..."
"That’s right," Dumbledore said, watching his reaction with quiet satisfaction. For the first time, Tom looked like a real kid.
"Come on, then—first stop... money."
They walked down the busy street toward Gringotts. Because of Dumbledore’s popularity, almost every few steps someone greeted him, waving or stopping to chat.
By the time they reached the grand entrance of the wizarding bank, two goblins were already waiting. One of them gave a deep bow and offered to escort them personally inside to the exchange desk.
Tom’s new life had just begun.