— — — — — —
Human beings are the most complicated creatures in the world. You can't neatly divide them into good and evil, nor can you understand someone from a single point of view.
Today, Tom finally understood that.
In the past, his logic had always been simple. Fontaine was connected to the Sun Chasers. The Sun Chasers were connected to the Feathered Serpent, Quetzalcoatl. And Quetzalcoatl was lurking in the shadows, plotting something.
Therefore, none of them could possibly be good people.
That line of thinking had been with him for years, ever since he was a lonely child in the orphanage counting ants to pass the time. In his mind, people fell into neat categories: useful or useless, pleasant or troublesome, friend or foe, good or evil.
Fontaine had always belonged in the negative category.
So from the day the old man arrived at Hogwarts, Tom had disliked him. They'd clashed more than once, and beyond those minor confrontations, Tom had spent years looking for the perfect opportunity to dig deeper into Fontaine's mind and uncover all the secrets hidden there.
Unfortunately, Dumbledore had always stopped him, insisting it would set a terrible example.
But now... the man had calmly accepted his own fate for the sake of Ilvermorny's students. That earned Tom's respect.
Looking back on all their previous conflicts, Tom realized something. Several times, Fontaine had stood up to him not for himself, but because he was fighting for his students.
Back then, he'd insisted Tom was targeting Jauncey, but in the end it turned out the boy simply wasn't very capable.
Still, as a headmaster, Fontaine had done his job.
_ _ _
Dumbledore's expression grew solemn. "Professor Fontaine, Ilvermorny should be proud to have a headmaster like you."
"Proud is a bit much." Fontaine let out a weary laugh. Leaning back against the sofa, he looked as though a few bones had been pulled from his body, exhausted and utterly drained. "If you can just get my students back to America safely, that'll be enough."
"Consider it done." Tom nodded, his voice unusually free of sarcasm. "I'll personally escort your students back. But Ilvermorny's turn comes later, so you'll have to wait a while."
The order for returning the visiting schools had been arranged by distance.
Beauxbatons would leave tomorrow, followed by Durmstrang. After that came Uagadou, Ilvermorny, Castelobruxo, and finally Mahoutokoro, the farthest away.
"No problem." A look of relief crossed Fontaine's face. "Go ahead. Ask whatever you want. If I can answer it, I will."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "You're not worried I'll go back on our deal once I've gotten what I need?"
"Not at all." Fontaine smiled. "If you intended to break your word, you never would've made the deal in the first place."
"You do know how to flatter people." A faint smile appeared on Tom's face.
He'd never claimed to be a good person. But that didn't mean he didn't value his reputation. Even villains ought to have standards. He had no intention of turning himself into a petty thug like Voldemort.
"Let's start with the most important question."
With a wave of his hand, the two pen holders on the table transformed into plush armchairs, sliding neatly behind Tom and Dumbledore.
Each chair was draped in dark green velvet. They sank slightly when sat upon and carried the comforting scent of an old library.
Dumbledore smiled politely before taking his seat. He reached into his pocket, produced two peppermint candies, handed one to Tom, unwrapped the other, and popped it into his mouth with a soft crunch.
If not for the pitch-black night outside the window and the tension lingering in the room, it could almost have passed for an ordinary academic discussion.
"Tell us about Corvinus Gaunt." Tom got straight to the point. "Everything that happened in America traces back to him. He seems to be one of the core members of the Sun Chasers. Tell us everything you know."
To Tom's surprise, genuine shock flashed across Fontaine's face.
It came too quickly to be an act.
"He showed himself?" Fontaine frowned. "I thought everyone said this was Herpo's doing."
"So your standing within the organization isn't very high after all." Tom leaned farther back into the soft chair. "Something this big happens, and no one even thought to contact you?"
"This is Hogwarts." Fontaine gave a self-deprecating smile. "Under your watch, at a time like this... why would they risk contacting me? Besides, both the Lume-Lens and the Codex were your inventions. Who knows whether you've found a way to monitor them? The Sun Chasers would never use your products."
He wasn't wrong. Tom really had been monitoring Fontaine's account.
He simply hadn't found anything suspicious.
After a brief moment of surprise, Fontaine accepted reality and continued, "As for Mr. Gaunt, I know very little about his current situation. What I can do is explain how everything is connected."
"Mr. Gaunt was the discoverer—and the owner—of the Aztec ruins. No one knows when he found them, or what treasures or secrets were inside when he first entered."
"After him, the second group allowed into the ruins consisted of the Fontaines, the Graves, and the ancestors of the Grimsditch family. And none of them would've gotten inside without Mr. Gaunt leading the way."
"Later, under his influence, the three families formed a tightly knit alliance, and their sphere of influence gradually grew beyond that of the other major families."
"Wait, the Grimsditch family?" Dumbledore caught the inconsistency before Tom did. Sitting upright, he frowned. "I thought that family's bloodline died out centuries ago."
"It didn't." Fontaine shook his head, lowering his voice as he revealed one of American magical society's oldest secrets. "Years ago, the Grimsditchs fought a bitter war with the Wilkinson family. It appeared the Grimsditch line had been wiped out. But in truth, a handful survived. They changed their identities and quietly merged into the Picquery family."
"...I see." Only now did Tom begin piecing everything together.
For a long time, something had puzzled him. The Wilkinson family, to which Laos Wilkinson belonged, wasn't weak by any means. Yet in America they had steadily lost ground, until they were eventually forced back to Germany, surviving only under Grindelwald's protection.
So the roots of that conflict stretched back centuries. Three great families acting together, backed by Corvinus Gaunt. And armed with the advantages gained from continuously exploring the ruins.
Frankly, the Wilkinsons had done well just to survive this long.
Of course, if the other three families had truly wanted them destroyed, they probably wouldn't have lasted.
"Agilbert," Dumbledore said, voicing the question that had been bothering him. "Why did Gaunt go to America after graduating from Hogwarts? He didn't know about the ruins back then, did he?"
Fontaine was silent for a long moment before he finally said, "To avenge his ancestors."
Then he revealed something even more shocking.
"You've always believed Ilvermorny was founded by Isolt Sayre, haven't you?"
"Well, it was." He nodded. "Madam Sayre was indeed a remarkable woman. She crossed the ocean aboard the Mayflower and brought the seeds of magic to this land."
"But what this school inherited in its very bones was Corvinus Gaunt's will."
"Revenge..." Dumbledore murmured, his blue eyes widening as realization dawned. "Then... Corvinus is descended from Gormlaith Gaunt?"
"Exactly." Fontaine nodded. "He is Gormlaith's grandson. By blood, he should have called Madam Sayre his aunt."
Dumbledore sighed. "No wonder Sayre disappeared so suddenly after establishing the school and setting its rules. It seems her descendants never truly secured their place in American magical society."
"Heh! And for centuries, no one suspected the truth?" Fontaine let out a cold laugh. "Dumbledore, put yourself in someone else's shoes. If Riddle killed you today, do you think he'd be capable of erasing every trace of what happened, leaving your name behind only in history books?"
Tom and Dumbledore exchanged a glance.
Tom gave an awkward little smile and quietly looked away.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
'...Wait. Why are you smiling? Tom... your train of thought is becoming alarmingly dangerous.'
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