Chapter 189: Arithmancy
The first day of classes.
Inside the Arithmancy classroom on the seventh floor of Hogwarts Castle, the faint scent of old parchment and ink lingered in the air.
The surrounding walls were covered with star charts and complicated magical formulas.
Compared with Professor Trelawney's smoke filled Divination classroom in the North Tower, this place possessed an atmosphere far more appropriate for a rigorous academic subject.
Professor Septima Vector was a stern faced witch dressed in dark robes.
However, for the first lesson of the new school year, she did not immediately begin explaining complicated predictive models. Instead, hoping to make the subject more approachable for the third years encountering Arithmancy for the first time, she started with something simple.
"Arithmancy is certainly not a matter of blindly guessing at tea leaves or staring into the mist of a crystal ball."
Professor Vector stood before the class and tapped the blackboard with her wand.
"Numbers are a universal language shared by both the universe and magic."
"For our first introductory exercise, we will study one of the oldest forms of numerological analysis. By converting the letters of your name into numbers, you can derive a value that supposedly reveals hidden aspects of your personality and the path your life may take."
Tamara sat near the centre of the Slytherin section, supporting her chin with one hand while listlessly turning the pages of her textbook.
It was little more than a trick for amusing three year olds.
After all, fifty years ago, when she had still been Tom Marvolo Riddle, she had already performed precisely the same calculation in this very classroom.
Her number had been seven.
The number of supremacy.
Compared with the magical knowledge she had mastered since then, reducing letters to single digit values for fortune telling was about as interesting as practising the Levitation Charm.
Still, she had nothing better to do.
Tamara twirled the black velvet quill between her fingers.
Although she regarded the entire exercise with contempt, she had never calculated the number associated with the identity the System had forced upon her.
With nothing more than idle curiosity, Tamara wrote the name across her parchment and substituted the corresponding numerical values according to the formula Professor Vector had placed on the blackboard.
Tamara Riddle.
214191994435.
The total was 52.
Tamara's quill paused.
Then she added the two digits together.
5 + 2 = 7.
She stared at the familiar number.
For once, the indifference on Tamara's face faltered.
"Interesting..."
An arrogant smile unconsciously appeared at the corner of her mouth.
Apparently, even after the System had forced a new body and a ridiculous new name upon her, fate itself still recognised the greatness of her soul.
To Lord Voldemort, seven had never been an ordinary number.
It had fascinated her for a lifetime.
Seven planets in ancient astronomy.
Seven colours in a rainbow.
Seven years of education at Hogwarts.
Countless curious coincidences seemed to revolve around the number.
Within Lord Voldemort's obsessive vision of immortality, seven possessed supreme magical significance. She had once believed that dividing her soul into seven parts would create the foundation for true immortality.
With the quiet satisfaction of the Dark Lord, Tamara opened the thick copy of Numerology and Grammatica before her and turned to the section concerning Number Seven personalities.
She wanted to see what elaborate praise the book had prepared for her.
In her previous life as Tom Riddle, she had never bothered reading the crude interpretations concerning personality flaws or future tendencies.
Those were merely reference answers intended for ordinary people.
She was the great Heir of Slytherin.
How could someone like her possibly be confined by the petty conclusions printed inside a school textbook?
But this time was different.
The apparent confirmation of destiny had pleased Tamara immensely, even granting her a rare moment of leisure.
For once, she was curious.
What meagre language had these mediocre scholars used in their attempt to describe the supreme Number Seven?
Then Tamara read the first paragraph.
[Number Seven: Highly intelligent, perceptive, and analytical, but also inclined toward pessimism and sarcasm, with a deep underlying lack of security.]
The faint smile on Tamara's lips disappeared.
Her brow furrowed.
What nonsense was this damned author writing?
Suppressing the urge to burn the book where it lay, Tamara continued reading.
[Number Seven individuals often feel most secure while analysing and controlling a situation. Yet once they become fixated upon a goal, they are prone to dissatisfaction and melancholy.]
[Deep down, they understand that achieving one goal will not truly make them happy. They therefore struggle to feel satisfied, rarely admit that they fully understand anything, and often fail to recognise what they genuinely desire.]
[To preserve stability, they may attempt to exert absolute control over others. When that control is threatened or lost, the darker aspects of their personality may emerge, including selfishness, emotional volatility, and domineering behaviour.]
Tamara's fingers tightened around her quill until her knuckles gave a faint crack.
She had already dismissed Potter's ridiculous words from the corridor.
Yet now, these passages struck the same nerve all over again.
A lack of security, leading to the need to control everyone through terror and slaughter.
Never being satisfied, so that even after tearing apart her soul in pursuit of immortality, she had continued living beneath the shadow of death.
Selfish.
Domineering.
Emotional.
Just as Tamara was preparing to reduce the offensive book to ashes, her eyes happened to fall upon the next paragraph.
[Number Seven individuals may also possess exceptional social skill, sophistication, and personal appeal.]
[They can be calculating, capable, and highly adept at navigating complicated relationships.]
[Many are strongly drawn toward power. In pursuit of truth or personal objectives, they may cultivate an impeccable outward image. Beneath that flawless exterior, however, their lives can gradually become artificial and detached from their genuine selves.]
The anger in Tamara's eyes abruptly faded.
In its place appeared something more complicated.
A long buried scene surfaced in her memory.
A warm, brightly lit Potions office at Hogwarts.
Professor Slughorn raised a glass, laughing as he praised a handsome boy with black hair.
The boy smiled gently.
His manners were elegant, his speech modest and polite.
To every professor who knew him, he was the perfect student.
A Slytherin prefect.
Head Boy.
Using that flawless exterior and his exceptional understanding of people, he had moved effortlessly through Hogwarts society and gathered the first generation of influential young pure bloods who would eventually become Death Eaters.
That had indeed been one of her most perfect forms.
The unsettling sensation of being dissected by a school textbook made Tamara continue reading.
[To progress, Number Seven individuals must abandon the need to control everything around them. Only by possessing the courage to accept change can they gain something greater and find genuine happiness.]
[Accept the truth of your own personality, and cease fearing change...]
"Utter nonsense..."
Just as Tamara was becoming increasingly displeased, an exaggerated complaint erupted from the seat beside her.
"This is the greatest joke of the century!"
Draco Malfoy shoved his copy of Numerology and Grammatica away as though it had personally insulted him.
"Tamara, can you believe this rubbish? It says I'm a Number Five!"
He jabbed furiously at his calculations.
"It says Number Five people are naive, sheltered from the dangers of the world, and that once they're faced with harsh reality, they become confused and even lose confidence!"
Draco's indignation grew with every word.
"And the worst part is this. It says they're easily deceived by appearances and lack the courage to accept the consequences of their decisions!"
He looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"I'm a Malfoy! I wouldn't understand how dangerous the world is? I lack courage? This entire subject is nonsense. Whoever wrote this book must have been completely addled!"
Tamara gave Draco's outraged face a cold glance.
Naive.
Sheltered.
Lacking courage.
Easily deceived by appearances.
Tamara silently nodded.
Remarkably accurate.
"It is rather ridiculous, Draco."
A false smile appeared on her lips.
"It can only fool people incapable of thinking for themselves."
"Exactly! At least you understand."
Draco immediately looked smug again.
"But I think the book is fascinating!"
A bright voice suddenly came from behind them.
Hermione Granger appeared beside Tamara with her textbook clutched against her chest and sat down without ceremony.
Her hair looked even more unruly than usual, and there were traces of exhaustion on her face, but her eyes were exceptionally bright.
"My number is four!"
Hermione eagerly pointed to a passage in the textbook.
She completely ignored Draco's expression of disgust and looked directly at Tamara.
"It says Number Four people strongly value order and structure. They're practical and reliable. But listen to the last part."
Hermione cleared her throat.
"When existing systems prove ineffective, they may attempt to replace them, using knowledge and reason to establish a new and more absolute order."
She lowered the book, visibly excited.
"Don't you think that's remarkably accurate?"
"If the existing rules of the wizarding world are wrong, or if they protect unfair traditions simply because those traditions are old, then why shouldn't we change them?"
Draco immediately rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sneer.
Tamara did not laugh.
If not for Granger's filthy bloodline, Tamara might almost have thought that the arrogance and instinct for overturning established authority hidden within the girl were purer than those of every pure blood in the Slytherin common room combined.
"A suitably grand ambition, Granger."
Tamara looked away, a trace of mockery entering her voice.
"But the book also says people like you tend to overwork themselves. Try not to exhaust yourself to death before you manage to accomplish any of it."
Hermione completely missed the sarcasm.
She nodded seriously.
"I'll be careful!"
The classroom settled again, leaving only Professor Vector's continued explanation from the front.
Tamara lowered her eyes toward the parchment before her.
Seven.
The madness and hunger for control of Number Seven.
The naivety and uncertainty of Number Five.
The obsession with structure and reform of Number Four.
Tamara reluctantly admitted that perhaps there was the smallest trace of merit to the method.
Then a name abruptly surfaced in her mind.
Harry Potter.
Her destined enemy.
The boy who had killed her twice.
And if this ridiculous book truly claimed to reveal the qualities hidden deepest within a person...
Then understanding an enemy's weaknesses was simply preparation for destroying them more efficiently and completely when the opportunity arose.
Tamara immediately accepted that flawless justification.
She wanted to know precisely what sort of pathetic weakness lay buried within the soul of the saviour whom the wizarding world praised so endlessly.
Using the wide sleeve of her black robe to conceal the edge of her parchment, Tamara quickly wrote another name.
Harry Potter.
81997762259.
The total was 65.
6 + 5 = 11.
1 + 1 = 2.
"Number Two?"
Expecting something amusing, Tamara turned to the section concerning Number Two personalities.
[Number Two: Highly dependent upon emotional connections, uncomfortable with loneliness, and strongly disinclined toward isolation. They may struggle with decisiveness and willingly place their trust in stronger personalities.]
[Some may even force themselves to participate in group activities simply because they cannot tolerate being alone.]
Tamara nearly laughed aloud.
She knew it.
The Boy Who Lived?
Strip away the grand title, and underneath was merely a weakling terrified of being alone, someone who became anxious without friends surrounding him and lacked any convictions of his own.
That Scarhead who had spoken so boldly to her in the corridor was apparently more frightened of loneliness than anyone else.
Filled with satisfaction, Tamara continued reading.
[Number Two individuals must learn independence. Once their fundamental dependence upon others is overcome, an extraordinarily powerful sense of self may emerge.]
Tamara's amusement faded.
Her eyes darkened.
At any other time, she would have dismissed the line as comforting nonsense written to reassure weak people.
But memories from her previous life immediately surfaced.
Harry Potter after losing Dumbledore.
After losing Sirius.
After losing nearly every person and source of protection upon which he had once depended.
That Harry Potter had ultimately brought about Lord Voldemort's complete downfall.
I must never allow him to grow into that person again...
Tamara continued reading.
The mockery in her mind had disappeared entirely.
She was now examining the supposed weaknesses of her enemy with the seriousness of a scholar studying a dangerous magical theory.
Then her gaze reached the final section concerning a Number Two's supposed life goal.
Tamara frowned slightly.
[Number Two individuals are best suited to building their lives upon stable relationships. They must find someone equally willing to share their life and remain faithfully beside them...]
[Such a partner becomes almost like their reflection in a mirror.]