Hogwarts: Tom is not the Dark Lord

Tom put down his crossed legs, stood up and dusted off the non-existent dust on his robe, "This is something that the principal should deal with."

"Wait... don't leave in a hurry yet..."

Tom looked at Dumbledore impatiently, wondering what the old bee wanted to say to him, "Do you want Galleons?"

"........."

"That's not what I meant..." Eyes rolling in embarrassment, Dumbledore stood up, affectionately pulled Tom's sleeve, and pushed him to the sofa.

"Ahem~ I'm going to get you a glass of wine. How about gin? You drank all the tequila..."

Squinting his eyes, Tom raised his eyebrows and tapped his knees with his fingers. The old madman...does he have something to ask him?

What should I order...The potion of immortality...its effect on the Resurrection Stone has been reduced~

Then...let's borrow the magic stone!

............................

Shivering, Dumbledore placed the wine glass in front of Tom and giggled a few times, "Hey Tom~"

"You also know...after the Peeves Expulsion War in 1876, the then headmaster, in order to get Peeves to hand over his weapons..."

"I had to sign an agreement with it, Filch...no matter what, he is just a squib, unable to suppress that troublemaker..."

"I don't want Hogwarts to face closure again. It would be a disaster..."

Tom knew in his heart that only a few people in Hogwarts could control Peeves, and among them...

Except for Dumbledore, it was him and Barrow the Bloody...

"Do you want me to warn it? Why don't you go yourself? Compared with you who are free to collect honey every day, I am much busier~"

Dumbledore touched his nose. He also liked harmless pranks...

But he doesn't like talking to special poltergeists that cannot be expelled!

"...Tom~ I'm going to France to visit my old friends... I'll bring you a gift back~"

"...I want the Philosopher's Stone."

"Okay~"

.....................................

The deal between the principal and the professor was reached, and the only ones 'injured' were the legendary alchemist who was so angry that he jumped to his feet, and a poltergeist who was scared into a quail.

Tom returned to his office and saw a palm-sized man floating on the table that looked somewhat similar to him. He walked quickly towards his desk with a dark face.

‘Daddy~~’

'Shut up, you idiot...'

He made a zipper movement around his mouth in aggrieved manner, and the soul nourished by the Resurrection Stone climbed up the pile of books on the table.

He spread his hands and closed his eyes tightly, pretending to be dead.

Seeing the scene played out countless times, Tom closed the opened drawer and poured out the Resurrection Stone ring from the inkwell.

Taking out his wand, Tom turned the quill into a miniature basin and rag, and poked the annoying little bastard with the tip of the wand.

'Clean up...or I'll burn you...'

Pouting, the villain got up, grabbed the rag and began to clean the ink on the table, 'Mr. Riddle, shouldn't you give me a name? ’

'Bob, Peter, David... take your pick...'