The following week passed quietly.
My days settled into a simple routine.
I woke early, helped around the orphanage just enough to maintain my new reputation, and then spent nearly every spare moment inside my Personal Dimension studying the Encyclopedia of Mind Arts.
Magic fascinated me more with every passing day.
The deeper I delved into its principles, the more I realized how little the average wizard actually understood about their own power.
Most people simply memorized spells and repeated incantations.
Very few seemed interested in understanding why magic worked in the first place.
That, in my opinion, was the difference between ordinary wizards and legends.
As I studied, I gradually began developing my own theories regarding magical power.
Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Merlin—none of them had become legends through raw magical strength alone.
There had to be several factors involved.
The first was magical power itself.
Without sufficient magical reserves, even the greatest spell would eventually exhaust its caster.
Magical energy was the foundation upon which everything else was built.
The second was the quality of the spells a wizard possessed.
A thousand ordinary spells could never compare to a handful of truly exceptional ones.
Ancient magic, forgotten rituals, unique family spells, and powerful curses could make an enormous difference.
The third factor was magical knowledge.
Knowledge determined what possibilities a wizard could even imagine.
Someone who had studied for fifty years naturally possessed a far greater arsenal than someone who had only learned the Hogwarts curriculum.
The fourth was magical control.
Two wizards might possess identical magical reserves, but if one wasted half their magic through poor control while the other cast with perfect efficiency, the outcome of the duel was obvious.
The fifth was experience.
Experience couldn’t be replaced by talent alone.
Countless battles, difficult situations, experimentation, and years of practice all refined a wizard’s instincts until reactions became second nature.
Finally…
Talent.
In my opinion, talent was the single most important factor.
Without talent, reaching the very peak became nearly impossible.
Hard work could close much of the gap, but the greatest figures in magical history had all been monsters from birth.
Merlin.
Morgana.
Dumbledore.
Grindelwald.
Voldemort.
They all possessed talent that completely surpassed ordinary people.
Fortunately…
“So do I.” I smiled to myself.
My status window wasn’t lying.
Mind Arts.
Ten out of ten.
Best of the Century.
Dark Arts.
Even the system refused to assign it a numerical value.
My Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts were already absurdly high for an eleven-year-old, and that wasn’t even considering the enhancement my system had granted me.
More importantly, I possessed magical reserves equivalent to an adult wizard.
That alone placed me leagues ahead of any child my own age.
Most eleven-year-olds barely possessed enough magical power to cast beginner-level spells repeatedly before becoming exhausted.
I was different.
According to the system, I already possessed the magical reserves of a fully grown wizard.
“I suppose that comes from the soul.” That theory made the most sense.
Tom Riddle had already possessed extraordinary magical potential, and after my soul fused with his, the combined spiritual strength naturally increased my magical reserves.
As I grew older, those reserves would almost certainly continue increasing until I reached adulthood.
There were still countless mysteries surrounding magic that I didn’t understand.
How exactly did magical cores develop?
Why were certain bloodlines stronger than others?
What role did the soul truly play?
Could magical reserves continue increasing indefinitely through training?
Could they be artificially enhanced?
“I’ll need books.” Lots of books.
Fortunately, that shouldn’t be difficult forever.
After all…
I was the Heir of Salazar Slytherin.
Eventually I would discover Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets, and if legends were to be believed, the founders had hidden countless magical secrets throughout Britain.
Then another thought occurred to me.
“My family.” Specifically…
The Riddles.
Tom Riddle Senior.
My biological father.
My grandparents.
The original Voldemort had murdered every single one of them without hesitation.
Honestly…
I thought that was unbelievably shortsighted.
Yes, Tom Riddle Senior had abandoned Merope Gaunt before I was born, but killing the entire family accomplished nothing except satisfying revenge.
The Riddles were wealthy.
Exceptionally wealthy by the standards of ordinary people.
They owned a magnificent manor, valuable land, businesses, investments, and countless social connections throughout Britain.
Instead of claiming that inheritance legitimately, my future self had thrown it all away simply because he despised his Muggle heritage.
“What an idiot.” Power came in many forms.
Money.
Influence.
Politics.
Technology.
The wizarding world remained trapped in the past, blindly believing the Statute of Secrecy would protect them forever.
I knew better.
I came from the future.
Technology would continue advancing at an incredible pace.
Security cameras.
Satellites.
Computers.
The internet.
Artificial intelligence.
Facial recognition.
Eventually, hiding an entire magical civilization from billions of people would become nearly impossible.
The magical world desperately needed to modernize.
Fortunately…
“This is 1938.” There was still time.
Decades, in fact.
Enough time to prepare.
Enough time to build influence in both the magical and Muggle worlds.
Enough time to ensure the wizarding world wasn’t caught completely off guard.
Then another historical event came to mind.
World War II.
I closed my eyes and effortlessly searched through my memories.
Thanks to my perfected memory and Occlumency, recalling information felt less like remembering and more like opening a perfectly organized filing cabinet.
September 1st, 1939.
Germany invades Poland.
Britain and France declare war two days later.
The largest conflict in human history begins.
“So there’s still nearly a year.” That war would reshape the entire planet.
Economies.
Governments.
Technology.
Entire nations.
Surely someone possessing future knowledge could benefit somehow.
“I’ll have to think about that.” Even if I couldn’t prevent the war, perhaps I could use it to establish future businesses or acquire valuable assets before anyone else recognized their worth.
Then there was another advantage.
The stock market.
In my previous life, I hadn’t merely invested for fun.
I had been a professional.
A wealth manager.
A financial advisor.
A portfolio manager.
Managing investments for wealthy clients had literally been my career.
I understood market cycles, long-term investing, company valuation, and historical economic trends.
Better still, I had spent years studying historical stock market data.
Now…
With photographic memory…
Every chart I had ever memorized remained perfectly accessible.
“I might become ridiculously wealthy.” At least in the Muggle world.
Money itself wasn’t my ultimate goal, but money bought laboratories.
Research.
Political influence.
Businesses.
Property.
Technology.
Power.
It would be foolish to ignore such an enormous advantage simply because I happened to be a wizard.
Just as I was considering which companies would eventually dominate the twentieth century…
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
I looked toward the window.
“…An owl?” Perched outside was a large brown owl patiently pecking against the glass while carrying an envelope tied neatly to one leg.
I walked over and opened the window.
The owl calmly extended its leg.
“So this is how Hogwarts delivers letters.” Untying the envelope, I noticed elegant green handwriting across the front.
Mr.
Thomas M.
Riddle Interesting.
Thomas.
Apparently Hogwarts preferred the more formal version of my first name rather than simply Tom.
I broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: Armando Dippet Dear Mr.
Thomas M.
Riddle, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
The school term begins on the first of September.
A member of Hogwarts staff will arrive in one week’s time to answer any questions you may have and to escort you to purchase your school supplies.
Yours sincerely, Professor Albus Dumbledore Deputy Headmaster I couldn’t help smiling.
“So it’s finally beginning.” I unfolded the second sheet.
First-Year Students Will Require: A full set of first-year textbooks.
Three sets of plain black work robes.
One plain pointed black hat for everyday wear.
One pair of protective gloves, dragon hide or similar.
One black winter cloak with silver fastenings.
Other Equipment Required: One wand.
One standard size two pewter cauldron.
One set of glass or crystal potion vials.
One telescope.
One set of brass scales.
Students may also bring an owl, cat, or toad.
Parents are reminded that first-year students are not permitted their own broomsticks.
I carefully folded the letter and placed it back inside its envelope.
“One week…” One week until I met Albus Dumbledore.
One week until I entered Diagon Alley.
One week until I finally held my first wand.
And one week until my real journey into the magical world truly began.