Dumbledore's request was actually much the same as Fudge's.
He also wanted to buy some notebooks and equipment, most likely to prepare them for the members of the Order of the Phoenix.
The truth was, the Order of the Phoenix was not made up entirely of elite wizards. It had all sorts in it, from every walk of life, because Dumbledore needed all kinds of people to help him gather information.
Tom still remembered that there was someone in the Order named Mundungus Fletcher, a petty drifter and thief who mixed around at the very bottom of wizarding society. As for his character... it could not have been worse. If he had been Tom's subordinate, Tom would have sent him off with a flash of green light without a second thought.
But Dumbledore used him quite happily.
Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that Dumbledore liked using people with flaws.
The Weasley family was in a similar situation. The cost of using WhatsApp was no small expense for them. Even now, Arthur Weasley was still using the one issued by the Ministry to its employees, while only Molly's had been bought with their own money.
As for the more expensive life-saving items, there was even less need to mention them. The ones who could afford them had no need to buy, and the ones who needed them most could not afford them.
Tom was very pleased.
During the summer holiday, Dumbledore had accidentally tricked him twice. Now, at last, he had a chance to return the favor. He directly quoted him the exact same price the Ministry paid, without the slightest discount.
And Dumbledore accepted without even blinking, with no intention of bargaining at all.
At first, Tom found that strange.
But he quickly understood.
The Order of the Phoenix had a financier.
Sirius was not in the same situation as he had been in the original story, constantly living under pursuit. Now he could openly make use of the Black family fortune. And given the Order's relatively small numbers, that level of expenditure really was not worth his notice.
For the first time, Tom suddenly truly felt that the wizarding world seemed to possess some invisible force that influenced wizarding fate.
Harry had spared Peter Pettigrew after learning the full truth, and in the end, when Peter was on the verge of killing Harry, he had shown mercy and returned that life-debt. Harry had also rescued Sirius Black, and the reward that should once have gone to him had now returned to his hands in another form.
After leaving the Headmaster's office, Tom was in such a good mood that he even traded a few words with the stone gargoyle before heading downstairs.
The market had opened all at once.
Dumbledore's order was nothing much, but Fudge's meaning had been very clear: unlimited quantity. Whatever goods you can provide, I'll pay for them all.
That was guaranteed to leave Tom earning so much money his pockets would burst.
And that was also why he had chosen to release Grindelwald now.
He was not merely a communications provider.
He was also the supplier of the payment system.
And at the same time, he was an arms dealer.
In times of peace, even if the Ministries of other countries knew what products he had, they would not care. Why would they? There was no threat pressing on them.
But now it was different.
Grindelwald had made one move, and suddenly all of them had become obedient.
At the same time, the importance of WhatsApp had risen sharply as well. It would benefit alongside everything else, because among all forms of international communication, none had a lower cost.
"This time, I really do have to thank Barty Crouch for helping push the goods."
Bones had already told him the whole sequence of events, and Tom now understood why the news had spread directly into the ears of the higher-ups in every country before he had even begun large-scale promotion.
As repayment...
Forget it.
Sometimes that man really had no manners at all, and Crouch had not truly meant to help him. He definitely had his own motives and demands. Tom simply decided not to bother arguing over the fact that Crouch had used him.
Call it even.
What troubled Tom most now was still production capacity.
The Guardian Necklace went without saying. That was a high-end product. Only he could make it, and it was also the most profitable thing he sold.
As for the Shield Cloak and the Warning Eye, there was no reason for those to waste his own time. They could be outsourced. Recently, because Professor McGonagall had been keeping a close watch on them, the twins' prank products were no longer selling well. Their attempts to invent new products had nearly landed Ron in the hospital wing. It would not hurt to make them do something proper for once.
The twins absolutely had decent talent in alchemy.
Tom was not worried that they would be unable to make such low-end products, and he was even less worried they would refuse a chance to make money.
By now, the two of them were practically possessed by the idea of opening a shop. As long as it earned money, forget merely asking them to work. Even if he told them to go sell themselves, they would probably stop and seriously consider it.
But what about everything else?
He truly did not want to keep treating himself like a beast of burden.
Without realizing it, Tom had already arrived at the Great Hall.
Since class time was approaching, many students had already finished breakfast and gone to their classrooms, leaving the vast hall looking rather empty. Tom casually picked up a piece of bread and started chewing on it, then finally made up his mind.
"Rowena, starting today, teach me memory magic."
Inside the meditation chamber, Ravenclaw, who had been supervising Ariana's homework, suddenly heard Tom's voice. She smiled faintly and stretched lazily.
"Don't worry, Tom. Your starting point is higher than mine was. I believe you'll see results very soon. I know what you want, and this is not difficult."
Tom's mouth twitched.
He had not even said what he wanted to learn memory magic for, yet Rowena Ravenclaw had already guessed it.
Was this what it meant to be so intelligent it bordered on the monstrous?
Dealing with a person like this was truly troublesome. Either you had to be clever enough to hide all your little thoughts so thoroughly that they could not detect them, or your heart had to be pure enough that you simply did not care.
Helga Hufflepuff was definitely the latter sort.
That was probably why she had been able to become Ravenclaw's close friend.
...
The silent volcano had finally erupted.
The Ministries of Magic of every country had tried their utmost to suppress the news of Grindelwald's escape, but in the end, the murders of the Polish Minister for Magic and Sam Picquery made it impossible to keep hidden.
In just two days, the news swept across nation after nation.
Some were stunned.
Some were terrified.
Some were left numb.
And some were overjoyed.
Fifty years was a very long time, long enough for the passing of two generations.
And yet fifty years was also very short.
Because for many people, they had merely grown old.
They had not died.