Prompt: Tom's tuition is paid from the Muggleborn scholarship fund - but then he claims the Slytherin name and suddenly he isn't covered by the fund anymore. A) he needs to come up with a way to make money quickly so he's allowed to return to Hogwarts for his final year(s) or B) he needs to take out a student loan.
There can't possibly be any bigger irony than the fact that ascending to the Lord of a noble House made him fucking less solvent.
Tom all but breathes fire, and wants to kill things. Not that either of these things is unusual. Tom has volatile wandless magic, he could breathe fire if he wanted, and also, he often gets the urge to kill things.
In this case, specifically, he wants to kill the goblins.
"You're ineligible," says one of the things. "That's final, Lord Slytherin."
Possibly he should have been less rude when he came and demanded they let him into the Slytherin vault last month. Possibly he should not have attempted to curse the teller when he was informed that no such vault existed.
He has a temper but he's not suicidal. He leaves the bank. You don't pick too big of a fight with the goblins of Gringotts, if you're wise, and Tom's already been warned once.
Merlin's fucking beard tied up in a knot. He needs a way to bring in gold. He needs a way to bring in Hogwarts tuition amounts of gold, and he needs to do it fast. That… does not leave a lot of options.
Theoretically he could just demand one of his people hand it over. His Death Eaters. His would-be will-be followers in a glorious new future. But that's embarrassing. Tom stalks down Diagon Alley deep in thought (and does not notice a witch scrambling out of his way so fast she trips and face-plants into a bin of pickled fish eyes outside a second-rate apothecary.)
So no. He will not be going begging to Abraxas bloody Malfoy. Theft is an option, also in theory, and also terrible in practice: Gringotts and the Ministry take their banking monopoly seriously and anyone depositing large amounts of Muggle cash is going to get flagged. The Gringotts audit team tracks you down sooner or later. Usually sooner. Usually to very painful effect.
Tom wants to live forever. Tom does not want to do that in goblin-enforced penury.
Tom also wants to bloody graduate.
(A stray cat runs across the cobblestones. Tom kicks at it, and misses, and almost hexes it right there, but it's the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday and too many people would see.)
He can't work in the magical world yet, is the problem, not anywhere that brings in the money he needs. He hasn't got any NEWTs or credentials. Manning the registers at Flourish and Blotts wouldn't bloody cut it.
Tom stops dead and looks down Knockturn Alley.
No. That wouldn't cut it. Normal retail positions wouldn't make him enough to afford Hogwarts, not in the span of two and a bit months.
Tom turns away from Diagon Alley and into its crooked, seedier sibling. Normal retail positions here would pay even less than those in Diagon. For most people. Tom Riddle isn't most people. And if Elphias Borgin won't guarantee him a high enough wage, well, Tom's more than willing to fall back on blackmail. Fuck knows he's witnessed enough illegal purchases there to shut the place down for good.
He sails through the front doors of Borgin & Burke's with a crooked, seedy smile.
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