"Put down that book right now! Immediately!" Snape urged Tom to head back and rest.
On the way to the dorms, Tom kept trying to strike up a conversation with Snape.
"Professor Snape, would you like— I mean, are you feeling hungry? Want a little midnight snack?"
Snape stayed silent.
"Professor Snape, the kitchens have some great food at night. Last time I saw these huge crabs."
Snape kept quiet.
"Professor Snape, do you know who the Half-Blood Prince is?" —Tom knew the answer, of course.
He was far away, yet right in front of him.
"Tom..." Snape whipped around, glaring, and jabbed a finger right at Tom's nose. "From now on, I want you to stay quiet!
"And... drop whatever little schemes you're cooking up!"
"I'm hungry, Professor Snape. I need a snack—just a bit—or I won't sleep well tonight. Want some?"
Tom's eyes were full of earnest sincerity, but Snape wasn't buying it. He just sped up, putting distance between them in no time.
"Professor Snape, what do you want? A sandwich?" Tom called out loudly, but Snape didn't slow down.
"Pizza? Or... or how about I bring you a big crab too?"
Snape's pace finally eased—he'd taken the bait.
...
Early the next morning, Tom was back in the Potions lab bright and early.
On the table were two vials of potion—just like the stamina ones Tom had brewed yesterday.
But these were richer, deeper in color, with a faint milky scent in the air.
Stamina potions mixed with milk!
"What are you waiting for? Drink one and get over here to help! You need to take them for a full week—a whole week. I don't want my assistant acting like a groggy troll!"
When Tom downed the first and reached for the second, Snape started up again: "When did I say you could have two? Tom, did your family teach you to be someone who takes without giving back?"
Tom lowered his hand and shuffled over awkwardly.
"Professor Snape..."
"No nonsense. Spit it out!"
"I'm from an orphanage. I never knew my parents. I don't have any family. Sorry..."
...
Tom's days at Hogwarts were incredibly full.
Every morning at 4 a.m.—he'd moved his wake-up time even earlier now—he'd meet Professor Snape in the Potions lab on the dot.
After drinking a stamina potion, he'd dive right into brewing practice with Snape.
Tom's Potions skill was climbing fast.
In the blink of an eye, two weeks had passed. Next week was the start of term at Hogwarts.
[You successfully brewed a potion. Rating: Perfect! Potions +100.]
[You successfully brewed a potion. Rating: Perfect! Potions +100.]
[You successfully brewed a potion. Rating: Perfect! Potions +100.]
[Potions level up!]
[Potions LV.3.]
[Title earned: Little Potions Prodigy.]
[Little Potions Prodigy: You have a deeper grasp of timing in brewing. 30% chance to yield an extra vial when bottling successful potions. Potions brewed by you have a slight quality boost!]
Textbooks? The potions in those couldn't hold Tom back anymore. He and Snape were moving fast—especially in just two weeks (even with Hermione taking over for one of them).
Tom's relentless hard work showed what real talent looked like!
Even in Hermione's body, he hadn't wasted a second.
The word "effort" fit Tom perfectly.
At the same time, his spellcasting was improving by leaps and bounds.
After a full week on stamina potions, Tom's total magical reserves had grown. His spells were faster, stronger, with better burst power and longer duration!
If you just looked at the effects and not his actual level, no one would guess this was an incoming first-year!
In Hagrid's words: honestly, except for Defense Against the Dark Arts, the rest of the first-year curriculum wouldn't challenge Tom much anymore.
...
Another Monday.
When Tom got to the Potions lab, Snape wasn't there yet.
He jumped right in, adding ingredients like an old pro—three circles left, three right. No more nerves; just relaxed ease.
Brewing potions was Tom's most chill time—he could even practice spells on the side!
One cauldron done, Tom bottled the potion.
Luck was with him this time. Usually two vials, but thanks to the title, he got a full three.
That's when Snape walked in.
"Tom!" Snape stormed over, grabbing Tom's collar. "Tell me what you're doing right now!
"Didn't I tell you not to brew on your own when I'm not here? You'll ruin the ingredients! Did I or did I not say that? Answer me!!!"
Tom didn't fight back. He just held up the vials. "Professor Snape, these are potions I brewed with ingredients I bought myself with my own Galleons. I have to leave for a bit—just a short trip back to the orphanage to see my friends.
"Thank you for letting me stay these past weeks and teaching me potions without holding back. These are from an advanced book—I wanted to give them to you." Tom's eyes were pure sincerity—the kind you show a true mentor.
It made Snape loosen his grip without thinking.
"Professor Snape, this one's Invigoration Draught. I've noticed you haven't been sleeping well—probably because I disturbed you in the dorms. This might help perk you up.
"This is Pepperup Potion—for colds. You've seemed off lately; I can tell. Seasonal colds are normal. I hope this fixes it.
"And this is All-Purpose Magical Stain Remover. I didn't dare clean your rooms—there's so much stuff you treasure in there. I know I'm as clumsy as a troll—you always say so. Hope these help."
Snape's throat caught. He let Tom place the vials in his hands and stood there speechless for ages—not sure what to even say.
He watched Tom's voice get quieter, those clear jade-green eyes misting over.
"Professor Snape, when I come back next week, it'll be for the start-of-term feast. Maybe... I mean, I won't get to room with you anymore. No more late-night snacks for you. I'm really sad about that."
Tom bowed deeply and headed for the door, leaving Snape holding the vials—potions poured full of Tom's heart and effort.
"I've never thought you were as stupid as a troll. If... if I really believed that, I wouldn't have taught you."
Too bad Tom was already gone and didn't hear it.
Snape was just talking to himself.
A flicker of something unusual stirred in his dark, empty eyes.
...
"Professor Sprout, all the weeds are cleared, and the ingredients are sorted. Like you said, the Mandrakes are all in their pots—I didn't touch them."
"Little Tom, you're such a hardworking good kid. Here's your pay for today." Professor Sprout ruffled his hair kindly. "Dear boy, I truly hope you end up in Hufflepuff."
Tom grinned. "Professor Sprout, that's not up to me—you know that.
"But I'm heading out today. Thank you for all your help these past days. See you in a week."
"Oh?" A touch of sadness crossed Sprout's eyes. "You're leaving already, little Tom? I was hoping we'd have afternoon tea together."
"I want more time with the kids at the orphanage. There's this little angel there who's really attached to me. I didn't say goodbye properly last time—didn't want her crying. With this last week of break, I want to spend it with her."
"Such a kind boy." Sprout smiled warmly. "Then hurry along. See you in a week."
"Bye."
Tom said goodbye to his other two friends next—Hagrid and Dumbledore.
When Dumbledore heard Tom was heading back to the orphanage, he offered to see him off and told Tom to take his hand.
Tom hesitated at first—everyone knew Dumbledore was a bit... quirky.
"Are you planning to take the train? That'd waste your time, my boy. We'll Apparate."
"Apparate?" Tom said, shocked. "Isn't Apparition banned on school grounds?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Usually, yes. But I'm the headmaster, and it's holidays. You don't want to waste time, do you, little Tom?"
"Sir, could we stop at Gringotts first—the one in Diagon Alley?"
Gringotts was the wizard bank. Deposits, withdrawals, Galleons to pounds—all handled there.
At Gringotts, Tom withdrew all his Galleons: 392.
That was everything he'd saved up—tips from Professor Sprout and the Weasley twins, plus a bit from selling potions...
He exchanged 200 Galleons for pounds—a full 1,000 pounds!
"Professor Dumbledore, could we swing by 23 Partridge Road? There's this amazing dessert shop. Misha and the orphanage kids love their sweets. I want to bring some back."
"Of course." Dumbledore smiled and took Tom there.
Tom ordered five of almost everything in the shop—and got one for Dumbledore too—before heading to the orphanage.
St. Lydia's Orphanage.
Dumbledore dropped Tom off and left, reminding him to report back next week.
"Tom?!" One kid spotted him and clapped a hand over their mouth. "It's really you, Tom? Misha, come quick—Tom's here!"
The little angel looked just as adorable, though her cheeks were flushed.
She shuffled out from the storage room, and her whole face lit up when she saw Tom.
"Tom!"
"Hey, Misha. You look awful... Got a cold?"
"Cough, cough..." Misha covered her mouth and nodded. "It's okay. Mr. Middle checked on me. I'll be better soon. How come you're back? Did the school kick you out?"
Come on, say something nice!
Eh, kids say what they think.
Tom lightly bonked her head. "It's break. I leave again next week. Next time we see each other... well, it'll be a while. I brought back tons of cakes—all your favorites."
Misha's eyes sparkled, but the light faded quick—she couldn't eat them with her cold.
"Misha, come with me." Tom pulled her into the storage room and took a few vials from his pocket. "These are cold medicines. Drink them, take a nap, and you'll be fine when you wake up. Then you can eat cake with everyone."
Misha's mouth dropped into a perfect "O."
"Don't worry—I won't let the others have any cake till you're up. You all should eat together."
Misha reached up and covered Tom's mouth seriously. "We're family. We eat... to-ge-ther!"