Against a group of wizards, even a queen was powerless. As Tom and his companions continued their search, an unforeseen complication arose.
"You left the shoes HERE?"
A tendril of black mist snaked through the open window into Cinderella's tower bedroom. Tom stood, his expression thunderous, as he gazed at the pair of glass slippers resting innocently on a nearby table. "You were going to carry them around? Were you planning on wearing those infernal things every day? How absurd!"
Moments before, Tom had confidently led Harry and the others toward the castle treasury, only to find it disappointingly filled with piles of mundane gold and silver. He had presumed the glass slippers to be a prized possession, carefully kept safe. It was an oversight born of arrogance that he hadn't bothered to magically locate the slippers. Now, as Harry and the others continued their search elsewhere, Tom refused to concede defeat. He mentally pinpointed the slippers' location and Apparated directly to it.
He gazed at the figure reclining on the lavish bed. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, Tom levitated one of the glass slippers into the air. But before it could reach him, a slender, white hand snatched it from its path.
"Tom Riddle?"
Bathed in moonlight streaming through the window, Cinderella regarded the young man in black robes trimmed with silver. The unexpected rise of her shoe had startled her, and she had instinctively caught it, only to realize that the intruder sought the very same glass slipper. It instantly connected to the letter she had received earlier that day, bearing the signature—Tom Riddle.
Caught red-handed, Tom seemed unfazed. Time to think of something cool to say. Immortality, magic, and, admittedly, a touch of flamboyance were his few indulgences. While not strictly necessary, he did enjoy a bit of theatrics from time to time.
If I can't steal it, time for a bit of showmanship. As for the slipper, I'll grab it later.
Tom remained still. His robes billowed as if caught in a nonexistent wind, and the dark clouds veiling the full moon parted as if by command. Suddenly, a flood of bright moonlight streamed into the room. To Cinderella, it seemed as though the radiant moon itself had become Tom's backdrop.
A ghost of a smile touched Tom's lips as he saw the queen's stunned expression. Alright, enough posing. Time to take the shoe. He was nothing if not sensible when it came to serious matters.
But before he could speak, Cinderella interrupted, "You want my glass slipper, don't you?" A wicked glint sparked in Cinderella's eyes as she smiled. "Since you've come all this way to steal the slipper..."
She slid the glass slipper onto her foot. "How about you steal something more?"
She had seen him clearly in the moonlight. This "thief" was impossibly handsome, barely twenty years old! Compared to this Tom, the prince she had met years ago was nothing more than a spoiled, wealthy simpleton! And Tom's unexpected display of magic piqued her interest further.
The glass slipper clicked softly on the floor as Cinderella advanced toward Tom, confident in her own beauty. After all, she had never met a more beautiful woman than herself.
...
Tom silently studied the Grey Queen before him.
Half a minute later.
He tossed the unconscious Cinderella back onto the bed.
He stored the glass slipper in his system space.
[Ding! Current mission progress: 4/5]
Hearing the System's notification, Tom transformed into a wisp of black mist and vanished out the window.
Outside the castle.
Mission accomplished, Tom Summoned Harry and the others. Together, the band of "evil wizards" soared away into the night sky.
...
Far away from the capital within Cinderella's kingdom lay a small, isolated town.
The buildings were scarce and aged. Few travelers bothered to stop there.
Most of the town's residents eked out a living through farming.
The poorest of them all was Jack's family.
As dawn's first rays pierced through cracks in the window, Jack's eyes fluttered open.
"Yawn..."
He swung his legs over the side of his patched-up bed and stretched. After a quick wash, he eagerly ran outside toward their fields.
But seeing rows of barren soil, Jack's spirits sank.
"If this keeps up… we won't have anything to eat."
Jack's family consisted of only him and his mother.
His father, seeking to escape their poverty, had gone off to pan for gold with some neighbors, never to return. The next time Jack saw him, they were separated by a coffin lid.
The cost of his father's burial further crippled their already destitute family.
His mother worked three jobs a day to feed them.
Left with no other choice, young Jack began to toil in the fields to lessen the burden. But fate seemed to mock him, for nothing would grow. It saddened him greatly.
He returned home and ate the half-eaten loaf of bread his mother had left him. Then, his mother led him outside, presented their old ox, and told him to take it to the morning market to sell it.
Jack stared in horror. Selling the ox would doom their farm. It would mean they had to farm it by hand!
He tried to dissuade his mother, but she was at her wit's end. They were starving.
Their only asset was the ox. Selling it would at least buy them some time. Without it, they wouldn't last three days.
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