The half-Veela's cooking really wasn't anything to write home about—especially with her obvious preference for vegetarian dishes. She'd tossed together an enormous bowl of salad, but since Tom was basically freeloading a meal, he didn't exactly have the right to be picky. Once he was full, he set down his fork without complaint.

Not long after, Polana arrived as well. After offering her heartfelt thanks once again, she informed Tom that half of the Veela in the village had already gone out to help him track down the fire dragon. They weren't just combing the mountains themselves either—they had also reached out to their allies: the local centaur clans and goblin settlements.

"The goblins? Those money-grubbing misers agreed to help?" Tom raised a highly skeptical brow.

Polana chuckled gently, "I promised them a gold coin in payment. With goblins, if the money is good, they'll do just about anything."

Veela were, after all, quite a wealthy magical race. They were in high demand across nations as magical cheerleaders and performers. For major events or ceremonies, hiring a Veela to perform an opening dance was both glamorous and extravagant—and it didn't come cheap.

So paying a little gold to get goblins on board wasn't much of a strain on the wallet, and the other Veela certainly didn't object.

"You've gone to great lengths," Tom said, finally realizing this was a full-on "cash solves everything" maneuver.

Polana smiled gracefully. "Compared to you saving Fleur and the others, this is nothing. While you're here, if there's anything you need, just say the word. I'll do my best to arrange it."

Tom gave it a moment's thought before speaking. "Then I'll trouble you with one more thing—keep an eye out for the hunter group too. They're after the same thing as me: the fire dragon."

If he couldn't find the dragon first, eliminating the competition would do just fine.

Classic Slytherin logic.

Polana paused for a moment, visibly hesitant, but nodded in agreement.

"Mr. Riddle, please be careful if you encounter the poachers. They're extremely dangerous—and cunning too."

"You have my word."

Satisfied with his solemn tone, Polana left quietly.

Once she was gone, Fleur cast a glance toward little Gabrielle, who was still wrestling with a stubborn piece of broccoli, then scooted a bit closer to Tom. The warmth of her breath brushed against his ear as she spoke softly.

"Riddle, why are you so set on finding a fire dragon? If it's the materials you need, I might be able to help. My father has a few... connections in the magical community."

Fleur had seen firsthand just how powerful Tom was—his mastery over flame magic had left her awestruck. But to her, fire dragons were on another level entirely. She couldn't imagine any wizard, no matter how gifted, facing one alone and surviving.

"I do need the materials, yes," Tom replied calmly, "but fighting the dragon itself—that's also part of the goal. I won't compromise on either."

He had, at one point, considered taking a shortcut. In the next term, in canon, Quirrell would use a dragon egg to bribe Hagrid, resulting in the hatching of Norbert—a Norwegian Ridgeback.

A baby dragon was still a dragon, right? Technically, it might satisfy the Twelfth Trial's requirement.

But there were complications. Killing Norbert would likely earn him the eternal wrath of both Hagrid and Harry—not that he cared much, but they would spread the word, and that would bring unwanted attention from the Ministry.

More importantly, there was still the requirement to bathe in dragon blood. And given that Norbert was small enough to fit under an Invisibility Cloak, Tom suspected there wouldn't be nearly enough blood to fulfill the ritual's needs.

In the end, it would be cleaner and simpler to just kill a full-grown dragon. He had the power, after all.

That was the brilliance of dark magic—you didn't have to be stronger than your enemy. You just had to be able to kill them.

Fleur saw the resolve in his eyes and hesitated again before offering another suggestion: "Then... why not find a team? Just a few people to help?"

"That won't work either."

Tom shook his head slightly, and because he was trying not to let Gabrielle overhear, their faces were very close. When he moved, Fleur's soft lips brushed against his cheek.

Their eyes widened simultaneously.

Fleur immediately leaned back in shock, while Tom frantically pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face like it had been cursed. "My first kiss!"

"You?! Yours is still intact! Mine just got stolen!!"

Fleur was absolutely livid. And he wiped it off, too—what, was he disgusted by her?

Wait a second...

They barely touched—where would saliva have even come from?!

Fleur felt herself heating up in more ways than one, but before she could explode, Tom quickly changed the topic.

"Recruiting more people isn't viable. Hunting a dragon without a permit is illegal. The more people involved, the faster we'll be exposed."

That managed to reel Fleur back from the brink of erupting.

She'd forgotten the legal part entirely.

She had just witnessed the darker side of the magical world: poachers attacking Veela, drawn by their beauty, ready to do unspeakable things. If Tom hadn't shown up in time, even if she and the others had escaped, they would've paid dearly in blood.

Now that those wizards had been wiped out, Fleur felt no fear toward Tom. Only overwhelming gratitude.

And maybe because she'd watched so many people die up close... life felt cheaper now.

If a bunch of dark wizards could die, why not a dragon?

She'd completely forgotten the law even existed.

"Don't worry," Tom said reassuringly. "This was a task given to me by an elder. They wouldn't have sent me if they weren't confident in my ability. And if things get really bad... they'll step in to save me."

Seeing that Fleur still looked skeptical, Tom tacked on another layer of cover.

If Andros was his teacher, that made him the "elder" in question. Worst-case scenario? He'd just let the old man do some off-screen power leveling.

That finally seemed to calm Fleur down.

After all, to raise a monster like Tom, his mentor had to be terrifyingly strong. In that case... what was there to worry about?

…

And so, Tom settled into the Veela village. Starting the next day, every day a team of Veela scoured the mountains to search for signs of fire dragons—and poachers.

The Veela hated poachers with a burning passion. On the very first day, they managed to find a group of over ten of them camping nearby. Tom Apparated to the area and used the Disillusionment Charm to sneak closer.

Unfortunately, the poachers had cast perimeter detection spells.

As soon as he got too close, he was detected.

Stealth failed.

Time for carnage.

With no choice, Tom launched a blitz attack. The whole camp descended into chaos as he cut down the poachers one by one. Two tried to Apparate away—but they weren't fast enough. Tom chased them down and executed them mid-escape.

Truth be told, Apparating mid-combat was something only top-tier wizards could do effectively. The further you wanted to go, the longer you had to concentrate. Most people couldn't pull it off while under pressure.

The result? Over ten poachers dead. Tom looted over 2,000 Galleons, along with various potions and magical materials. Not a bad haul at all.

As the old saying goes: No windfall, no wealth. No stolen grass, no fattened horse.

When Tom returned to the Veela village with over a dozen confiscated wands hanging from his belt like trophies...

He instantly became the most popular guy in the entire village.

One by one, the alluring and charming veela women began treating Tom with great care and affection. They fawned over him with warmth and attentiveness, even going so far as to perform captivating dances just for him.

Tom took this opportunity to confront his greatest weakness—training his willpower. With the help of these dazzling older sisters, he was sharpening his mental discipline.

In the future, if an enemy ever tried to use beauty to seduce him… well, good luck with that. He'd be immune.

For several days straight, Tom had meals accompanied by a full song-and-dance troupe. Being a generous soul, he even invited Grindelwald and Andros to join him in the spectacle.

Grindelwald showed no reaction at all—people who knew, knew.

Andros, on the other hand, was heartbroken.

"Tom, you're a man destined to become the greatest wizard! How can you lose yourself in such soft indulgence? Why didn't I ever think to get a troupe of veela to dance for me back in the day?"

"You really are hopeless…"

Both Grindelwald and Tom twitched at the corners of their mouths.

Clearly, the last sentence was the real point.

And it wasn't just Andros who couldn't stand how relaxed Tom was living—someone else showed up with a grievance.

Fleur.

"I want to learn English!"

"English?" Tom asked, puzzled as he chewed on an apple. "But we can talk just fine—why bother learning English now?"

Fleur stood her ground. "Aren't you the one who said learning more languages opens more doors? I suddenly got interested in English. And since you're right here, a walking, talking native tutor, I'm not about to miss this chance."

"But I've got a fire dragon to find," Tom said, a bit guilty under Fleur's sharp look.

Alright, fine. He had been slacking off a bit these past few days.

But there were plenty of veela out there helping him search—wasn't that enough?

The Blood-Tracker Charm had become mostly useless anyway. The forest was full of wild predators, so the moment he cast it, the whole five-kilometer radius would light up with red dots, earning him no small amount of ridicule from Grindelwald.

Tom had considered asking Grindelwald to use his prophetic ability to track the dragon, but the older wizard told him his body was too weak now—barely alive, in fact. He could hardly cast a simple Transfiguration spell, let alone foresee the future.

And so, Tom had slipped into half-surrender mode, hoping the veela would come through.

"Alright, fine," he sighed. "You want to learn English? Let's learn English."

Fleur's eyes sparkled with a hint of triumph.

From the next day onward, Tom would go out for a bit in the morning to try his luck dragon-hunting, and spend the afternoons teaching Fleur English.

At first, Gabrielle was all excited to join the lessons. But as with all kids, her patience didn't last. She soon found it boring and ran off to play on her own.

Which suited Fleur just fine.

Whenever Gabrielle was around, Tom would focus entirely on the little girl, which drove Fleur absolutely mad with frustration.

Besides language lessons, Fleur would also ask Tom about magic and duel with him daily. After going through a life-threatening experience, she deeply understood how important strength was. The real world was nothing like the quiet safety of school.

Tom approved of her talent—there was no doubt she had what it took to be a future Triwizard Champion. Especially in mental and spiritual magic, Fleur had a natural edge—likely thanks to her veela heritage.

One day, Polana returned to the village with a bright, joyful expression.

She found Gabrielle crouched near the flower beds, bored out of her mind, teasing two fluffy Puffskeins.

Polana walked over and asked, "Gabrielle, why are you here all by yourself? Where's Fleur?"

Little Gabrielle instantly put on a pouty, aggrieved look. "Sister's learning a foreign language with Big Brother. She won't play with Gabrielle anymore…"

Polana didn't think much of it and just told Gabrielle not to leave the village on her own. Then, she headed straight to Tom's house.

She hadn't even reached the door when she heard soft moans coming from the backyard.

Polana's face twisted into a mix of shock and dread.

She was no innocent—having given birth to two children herself, she had plenty of experience. Just from the sounds and bits of conversation, her imagination had already painted a vivid scene in her mind.

Sure, the boy was handsome and the girl was lovely. She could admit Tom and Fleur were a good-looking match.

But… they were still just kids!

No. She had to stop this immediately.

What if Fleur ended up with a baby and made Gabrielle an aunt younger than herself? Her daughter and son-in-law would explode!

Fueled by fury, Polana stormed around the house—only to freeze in place at the sight before her.

Fleur was sitting in a full side split on the grass, and Tom was gently pressing down on her leg, speaking calmly.

"Once we stretch you out, your flexibility will improve drastically. You'll move quicker and more fluidly, which gives you a big advantage in duels."

Fleur noticed her grandmother's angry but confused face and called out, "Grandma? What are you doing here?"

Polana stiffened and replied flatly, "I… I heard from Gabrielle that you were learning a foreign language with Mr. Riddle. That's great. Language is important. Keep it up."

Tom applied a bit more pressure. Fleur winced slightly and hissed, "Grandma, no need to be so formal with Tom. Just call him by name."

Tom nodded in agreement. "Ms. Polana, she's right. No need to stand on ceremony."

"Mhm, then you don't need to call me 'Ms' either. Just Polana will do. Or…"

She shot Fleur a sly glance. "Calling me Grandma like Fleur does… wouldn't be unacceptable."

"Grandma! What are you saying?!" Fleur blushed deeply, her ears and cheeks glowing red.

Polana simply smiled, then smacked her forehead as if just remembering, "Oh, look at me, nearly forgetting why I came! Tom—we found the fire dragon."

In a flash, Tom dropped Fleur's leg and sprang to his feet. "Where?!"

Polana let out a sigh. "We were all fooled by that crafty Horned Serpent. It only showed itself in the Vosges Mountains for a moment before slipping away… all the way to the Black Forest on the far side of the Rhine."

"From our village, head northeast straight across the river. Once across, go another 200 kilometers east. The dragon is resting in a valley between two tall mountains—both covered in dense fir trees. You won't miss them. The goblins spotted it while en route to trade with German wizards."