Hogwarts: Chill, I'm Not That Riddle

The brand-new pocket world Tom had carved out was a world of water.

While collecting the Leviathan’s remains, he’d taken in a huge amount of seawater along with them. Now the whole world was almost entirely ocean, with a single small island at the very center that he’d shaped with magic.

It wasn’t big, just enough room for a few people to stand. Endless water stretched in every direction. There was no sun overhead, yet the light was bright all the same, and the sea rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, far calmer than the open ocean outside.

Above the waves, the Leviathan’s shattered body had been pieced back together.

A few small scraps had been left behind, but overall it fit together well enough. The cuts were clean and even, and you could tell at a glance that something sharp and terrible had sliced straight through it.

Some of the chunks glittered with a crystal blue light. Those were the ones Tom had frozen solid, set aside for taste-testing later.

That was the sight that greeted Newt and Nicolas: a colossal monster sprawled across the sea.

Nicolas was simply stunned. Newt, on the other hand, felt his whole worldview crack.

The more you learned about magical creatures, the more clearly you understood that this world had limits. No matter how wondrous a creature was, the food chain capped how big it could grow, and after that it just stopped.

In fact, the more dominant a creature was, the harder it was for it to survive at all.

But this Leviathan? From its size alone, there was no way any ocean food chain could sustain it. Just breathing probably burned as much energy as a few dozen fire dragons. If it ate every day, the fish of an entire sea would be gone before long.

"Is this really a creature from our planet?" Newt murmured.

Tom shrugged. "No idea. I just beat up the monster. The research part is your job."

Newt’s eyebrow twitched. "Research? If you want me to study it, the least you could do is bring one back alive. What am I supposed to learn from a pile of meat chunks?"

Tom said confidently, "Come on. You’re Newt Scamander. When it comes to magical creatures, you can do anything."

Then he turned that look on the old man—the kind of gaze that was almost impossible to refuse. The sheer admiration in his eyes made it difficult for Newt not to believe it himself.

"Uh... Fine. Just don’t expect me to come up with anything useful," Newt said, lowering expectations in advance.

"Whatever you can manage is fine," Tom said easily. "What I really want to know is where it came from. Did it come out of some ruin, like the Quetzalcoatl?"

Both old men nodded. A creature that didn’t fit this world naturally brought the Quetzalcoatl to mind. Where there’s one, there’s two, and where there’s two, there’s three. At this point, if some other legendary creature turned up later, it wouldn’t surprise anyone.

With a one-of-a-kind specimen laid out in front of him, Newt’s professional instincts kicked in at once. He conjured a little boat and sailed off toward the Leviathan. Nicolas followed, curious what each part of this walking treasure trove could be used for.

Tom quietly pocketed a few unremarkable chunks, each still about the size of a fire dragon, then left the pocket world at Newt’s house and flew off to Dalaran.

Dalaran had originally featured a huge central garden with a grand mage tower in it. Tom had meant for the park to be a place where citizens could relax, and for anyone who wanted to learn magic to pick up a few spells at the tower. Later, when he needed room for the golden apple tree, he’d bulldozed the whole thing without a second thought. The tower was ripped out by the roots, the park leveled flat, and the tree planted in its place.

A layer of mist now covered the entire area. To anyone with bad intentions, it was a potent poison. If an ordinary citizen wandered in by accident, the mist would teleport them to some random corner of Dalaran.

Tom sat down on the ground, and the golden apple tree’s branches immediately snuggled up to him.

But the moment he pulled out the Leviathan meat, the little traitor dumped its master without a second thought and wrapped dozens of branches tight around the meat.

Then something strange happened.

The branches gave off a faint golden glow, and the meat began to shrink. It looked downright eerie.

Tom was thrilled. He’d guessed right. His tree wasn’t picky. If it helped it grow, it would swallow it without hesitation, and enjoy every bite. All that effort hauling the thing back was worth it.

In about fifteen minutes, a fire-dragon-sized chunk was completely absorbed. The tree kept its golden glow, but now it had a hint of bloody red in it, which made it look even less like a respectable tree.

Then a faint pulse of feeling brushed Tom’s cheek from the branches.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh. Great. It was stuffed.

He took out another one, but this time the tree wasn’t nearly as eager. Its branches just rested against his face.

It had absorbed too much, too fast. Its roots were packed with life energy and magic, plus a trace of divine power. The divine power was the real headache, and it was slowing down the digestion of everything else. It would need three days before it could be "fed" again.

"Okay, I’ll come check on you in three days," Tom said, patting the trunk. "Use that energy to grow all you like, but don’t forget my apples. You hear me?"

The branches swayed gently, as if promising to do its best.

...

..

Up in the Karazhan mage tower, Tom stood at the very top and looked out over his city.

The outer residential districts had already opened for sales and recruitment. From up here he could see lots of tiny dots moving around. The inner city, he wanted to hold off on.

The wizarding world didn’t feel much of a sense of crisis yet. It had been a while since the New York incident, and nothing too dramatic had happened between Muggles and wizards since. Plenty of people thought like Professor McGonagall: the crisis would fade with time. But Tom could see the tangled threads of the timeline, and he knew that was wishful thinking. The train had already switched to an entirely different track. There was no stopping it now.

Only once the conflict truly exploded would wizards understand how valuable a wizarding city really was. When that day came, inner city property prices would skyrocket, and everyone moving in would be a high-quality, fat-walleted customer.

Britain’s wizarding community alone couldn’t fill a city this size. He’d have to draw in wizards from continental Europe and beyond.

Tom pulled his gaze back, closed his eyes, and sent his mind into his system. The way he’d gotten the quest done was a bit of a muddle, but a reward was a reward, and he wasn’t about to skip it.

Inside the system space, the gates of the Eleventh Palace were already wide open, so he slipped inside with ease.

The interior looked nothing like the earlier ones. There was no light and no familiar reward prompt. Only an enormous shadow coiled in the depths of the darkness.

It seemed to sense Tom’s arrival. Slowly, it raised its head.

Then a world-shaking roar rolled out and left his mind blank for a moment.

He had no idea how long it lasted. Gradually he came back to himself and opened his eyes in shock.

The reward... was actually this?

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