Kathoom’s plan was simple.
The Horcrux contained potent dark magic, enough that simply holding it could lead to dire effects.
This was because Voldemort’s soul fragment constantly tried to influence whoever possessed it.
But viewed from another angle, Voldemort’s soul itself held immense value.
Within it lay Voldemort’s memories.
Like the diary that contained a 16-year-old Tom Riddle, the diadem concealed Voldemort as he’d been after graduation, when he’d returned to Hogwarts hoping to become a professor.
Kathoom didn’t want Voldemort’s soul, but he did want Voldemort’s memories.
Especially those that held knowledge of magic beyond what textbooks could teach.
If he could extract these memories, they would serve as an invaluable teaching resource. Bruce could learn from them, and Kathoom would also gain a tenfold feedback reward.
However, achieving this wouldn’t be easy.
First, he needed to master memory-based spells—Confundus Charms, Memory Charms, Legilimency, and the like.
Then, he’d need to understand Horcrux creation itself in order to reverse-engineer it and release its memories.
The memory charms could be found easily, even in an old spellbook lying around the Room of Requirement.
But the secrets of creating a Horcrux were only documented in Secrets of the Darkest Art, which was kept securely in Dumbledore’s office.
A bit of a problem.
“Seems I’ll have to wait until Bruce starts school and then find a way to get into Dumbledore’s office.”
No sooner had Kathoom resolved this than an idea struck him.
He glanced at the diadem, murmuring to himself, “I wonder if I could trick the Horcrux into telling me…”
—
At the Granger residence.
Bruce closed his textbook, mentally rehearsing the spells he’d memorized.
Perfect recall was no special talent to him—it was a basic skill.
Now he’d already mastered every first-year spell.
Unlocking charms, levitation charms, repairing spells…
These basic spells lacked real impact, leaving Bruce unsatisfied.
How could he hope to protect Gotham with just these?
A new plan formed in his mind: he’d need to buy the higher-level textbooks, too.
“When we go to Diagon Alley, I’ll just grab them all.”
Just then, Mrs. Granger finished tidying his room and called him in to get some rest.
“Thank you, Aunt,” Bruce said as he entered his room and turned off the light.
He’d just shut his eyes when suddenly a jolt of awareness shot through him, snapping him wide awake, goosebumps prickling his skin.
Now that his magic had developed, Bruce had an intuitive sense for impending danger.
And right now, that sense was screaming at him.
Something dangerous is coming.
Bruce fought to steady his heart, which was racing wildly in the dark. He repeated silently to himself:
Calm… Stay calm…
Despite being only eleven, Bruce didn’t scream or panic.
His past had taught him that in any situation, fear was his worst enemy.
He quietly whispered in his mind, “Kathoom.”
Hundreds of miles away at Hogwarts, Kathoom’s head shot up. He and Bruce had a unique link within this world. No matter how far apart they were, they could communicate.
Bruce wouldn’t call him on a whim. This had to be something serious.
Something unexpected.
“What’s going on?” Kathoom responded.
Bruce wasn’t sure how to explain it. This sudden ability to sense danger was just as mysterious to him.
He could only be direct: “I sense something dangerous coming. I think it’s coming for me.”
A shadow passed over his thoughts as he spoke.
If he’d had this ability years ago, maybe his parents would still be alive.
Kathoom understood at once—Bruce’s exposure to magic had heightened his intuition.
No time to dwell on the details. This had to mean DC’s hunters had arrived.
Already? Less than a day had passed!
“Do you see them? What do they look like?”
Kathoom kept his tone steady, though tension gripped him.
If it was one of Gotham’s violent rogues, they wouldn’t hesitate to harm civilians, putting the Grangers at risk.
After finding a secure hiding spot for the diadem, Kathoom flew out of the Room of Requirement, leaving Hogwarts.
Now that he had magic, his return speed was much faster; he could reach London in half an hour.
“I haven’t seen anyone yet,” Bruce replied. “I’m about to leave through the window.”
Bruce kept his voice steady. “The Grangers have been kind to me—I won’t get them involved.”
Kathoom and Bruce were thinking alike.
Soaring high above, Kathoom said, “Good idea. Head west—there aren’t any houses in that direction, but there are a few hiding spots.”
He’d scouted the area earlier. The Grangers’ home was already in the suburbs, and heading west would lead Bruce into woodland. If Bruce could keep the pursuer occupied long enough, Kathoom would reach him in time.
In fact, he felt sure Bruce could pull it off.
Kathoom couldn’t help but wonder who the pursuer might be.
It wouldn’t be someone overwhelmingly powerful; the world’s limits wouldn’t allow it.
It had to be someone with a particular grudge against Bruce, someone who wouldn’t wait to be the first to arrive.
That pointed to a Gotham villain.
If so, there was actually less to worry about. Gotham’s rogues, eccentric as they were, tended to have an odd attachment to the Bat.
Even if they captured Bruce, they likely wouldn’t kill him immediately.
They’d want to gloat, drawing out the moment of victory with a monologue of hatred and exposition of their plans.
That would buy enough time for Kathoom to arrive.
Hearing Kathoom’s instructions, Bruce felt his determination solidify.
Bruce was a boy of action, and the moment he had a plan, he acted.
He swung himself out of his bedroom window.
Dropping swiftly to the ground, he muttered, “Wingardium Leviosa!”
Wooden planks from a nearby pile floated over and caught him, slowing his fall until he landed lightly on the ground.
“Turns out I really don’t need a wand for spells!”
It was his first attempt at wandless magic, and he’d pulled it off flawlessly.
But even as he landed in the silent darkness, he felt a piercing gaze settle on his back, sending a shiver down his spine.
He spun around.
There, on the Granger family’s rooftop, stood a tall, broad figure.
He wore a red metal helmet and carried two gleaming pistols, both aimed directly at Bruce.
—
T/N: Jason why can’t you be more incompetentttt he hasn’t even started hogwarts yet!
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