[HP] Being a problem student at Hogwarts

Ministry of Magic.

Department of Mysteries.

Tom rubbed the button that Draco had given him for communication and thought thoughtfully. Speaking of which, is there anything in the Department of Mysteries worthy of the Dark Lord's search? He searched through the Dark Lord's memories and found that Voldemort - at least Voldemort at this period was not very clear either.

In memory, the Department of Mysteries is mainly responsible for various major and secret magical matters. Their duties are highly confidential, and no one has ever known what they are doing. The wizards who work here are called silent people, who specialize in studying - or more bluntly, guarding some innate, unexplainable, and uncontrollable magic.

Wow... no one knows what they are doing, sounds like a perfect fit for swindling money.

Tom murmured endlessly in his mind, and then brought his thoughts back. Uncontrollable magic sounds like something Voldemort would be interested in. Are the necessities for the ceremony he customized for himself hidden in it? But he himself didn't know what it was, so he could only keep looking... Or maybe he knew that there was something hidden inside, and he thought that thing would be useful, but he didn't know where it was specifically?

Otherwise Harry wouldn't be dreaming of endless corridors.

Voldemort had no idea where what he wanted was.

But why would Dumbledore know?

The thing Voldemort wants must be something that people can relate to... Of course, there is another explanation - Tom unhappily recalled the conversation he just heard in the principal's office and deduced that Grindelwald is a The prophet - Dumbledore may also choose to make a prophecy when he is indecisive.

Then there's no way to guess.

Tom did not intend to follow Grindelwald and Snape's advice and return to Gryffindor Tower. He planned to take advantage of the good opportunity of Dumbledore's absence and Voldemort and Grindelwald being dragged by each other to slip to the Ministry of Magic to have a look. It's best if you can gain something, but if it doesn't work, you can still go for it.

He had just climbed back to the eighth floor by clinging to the wall when he bumped into Neville who was sweating profusely.

"Tom!" Neville breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank God...I forgot the password again, and the portrait refused to let me in..." He clutched a package tightly, "Ah, that's right." He put his hand into the package and groped for it. "The owl sent this..."

He struggled to pull out a crooked Sorting Hat from the package and hesitantly handed it to Tom. "The attached note says... it's for you?"

Tom stared at the hat. I don't know if it was because he had just thought about the prophecy, but he suddenly thought of the clues about the future left by Lockhart that he and Dumbledore had discussed in the principal's office.

Sorting Hat.

Gryffindor's sword.

Pulling out a sword from the hat... He said that people like Ron or Neville who come from wizarding families are more likely to think of this idea. Then what did Dumbledore say...

His mist twisted into a thin stream and inserted into his temple, stirring gently, helping him search for memories.

Neville seemed to see it and took a step back in horror.

Ah yes... Dumbledore mentioned a prophecy. Tom remembered. He originally just made a joke, but Dumbledore did not deny it - a prophecy about the destined savior and the Dark Lord... and what Lockhart said, a Hogwart with ruins and corpses. Hereby...

Tom couldn't help but glance out the window. Grindelwald and Voldemort were still fighting fiercely, with black smoke billowing on one side and demonic flames on the other. The Death Eaters and the guard stone statues of Hogwarts were shouting and fighting while dodging the splash damage of the two Dark Lords.

For a moment, Tom felt as if he was still lying alone on the muddy ground of the Forbidden Forest, his ears full of whispers, full of anger, frustration and unwillingness to everything... The physical pain was not worth mentioning, only the kind The flame of pain that was casually arranged was burning in my heart...

Tom stared at the Sorting Hat and seemed to see Dumbledore's blue eyes.

He looked at Neville who was still holding out his hand, moved his lips, and wanted to ask him if he knew that what he handed out was not the Sorting Hat with the Sword of Gryffindor hidden at all, but his own destiny of becoming a hero. . But even without asking he knew that Neville knew nothing.

He just received the Sorting Hat from an owl, and according to the instructions in the letter, he was to give it to Tom.

Dumbledore style. Tom thought. He arranged everything, and then generously waited for them to make their choice, as if resigned to fate.

What is this? A test? Ask him if he still stands against Voldemort like them at this time? Or show him the path he has chosen for him, and politely invite him to become a snake-slaying hero like he did before when he wanted to create a child of light?

Did Grindelwald ask him to return to Gryffindor Tower because he saw this? Did Snape ask him to return to Gryffindor Tower because of Dumbledore's instructions?

The funny thing is that he couldn't ask "What's the price?" for the invitation extended by Voldemort, and he couldn't find the opportunity to ask what he had to pay for the invitation extended by Dumbledore. But his spiritual sense told him that Dumbledore might not know anything about the strangeness of his magical mist.

Dumbledore wanted to do something to him.

Maybe it's to limit his magical mist, or maybe it's trying to find a way to "cure" him?

Dumbledore had no ill intentions towards him... but Dumbledore and his expectations for his future were different... Even if he did not rely on the memory in the Dark Lord's Horcrux, Aberforth would still have to hide after resurrecting his sister. Looking at Dumbledore, he knew it from the first time he had an argument with Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not shy away from his aversion to immortality, resurrection, and other things that transcended mortal boundaries.

Perhaps when Dumbledore cut off his hope of becoming a god, he still felt that he was saving his soul?

He once again stood at a fork in the road of destiny.

But...if you don't have this kind of determination, how can you talk about becoming a god?

He just thought with some boredom that the person who used the black dog's skin as a shelter had said that the road to destiny is lonely. Firenze also told him that only he controls his own destiny.

FXCK. As expected, those prophets are still the most annoying. Each one of them was confusing, and he was blocked at both ends. Anyway, no matter what he did, he would always be able to match one of them.

"Tom?"

He was silent for so long that Neville timidly called him again.

"You..." Neville hesitantly pulled back the hand holding the Sorting Hat a little, "Are you from Dumbledore? You won't side with the Dark Lord, right?" "

"...I don't belong to anyone." Tom answered him stiffly, "I borrowed it." He walked around Neville and walked to the window, then turned back to him and said: "There is Gryffindor in the Sorting Hat." My sword, you can use it well, Neville."

"Goodbye." He said finally, turned over and jumped off the window sill.

Neville screamed and ran to the window sill and stretched his head to look, but he only saw a cloud and mist, and Tom could not be seen.

The foggy Tom felt very happy, the cool night breeze blowing on him. Never mind, he thought, never mind Grindelwald's prophecy, Dumbledore's arrangements...throw them all aside. He only picked out the prophecy he liked to hear and praised - he was never anyone's person, he was... a sleepwalker who ran rampant in the room, an unreasonable troublemaker.

It seems that he is willing to admit that Lockhart and Firenze are the masters of prophecy in the world!

As he was thinking about it, the mist smashed through the window of the principal's office and quickly rolled in the crow lying on its back with its legs crossed - the poor crow waved its wings in panic, and was completely trapped. Swallowed into the mist, even the screams were absorbed by the deep mist - and then retreated out the next moment.

The portraits in the principal's office were silent for a moment, and then a portrait that looked like a trembling old man took off his glasses, wiped them, and asked in disbelief: "...What just happened? That bird...why did it suddenly happen?" Gone?"

"It seems..." The other portrait was also very hesitant, "It just 'swished' and was eaten by something?"