"Calm down, child, calm down—okay, I was joking. I don't know why you keep bringing up Azkaban. The prisoners there are dangerous criminals, real scum. They'd never lock up a cute, obedient kid like you.
But this is a tough one. If you go to Slytherin, you'll definitely become an outstanding wizard someday. Still… Gryffindor's environment might suit you better.
That would be such a waste of your talent, though—oh, I mean that incredible learning ability of yours. Hufflepuff? Doesn't quite fit either."
The Sorting Hat's stitched face twisted as it pulled at the corners of its mouth, clearly wrestling with a hard decision.
"I've made up my mind, little Tom. I hope your future is bright!
Hogwarts will be proud of you!
—RAVENCLAW!"
The Ravenclaw table erupted in loud applause. Everyone was welcoming this impressive boy—the Sorting Hat had spent a full twelve minutes on Tom!
"Good heavens! Twelve minutes, Tom—you're going to succeed at anything you do!"
"Before you, the longest was Hermione—she held out for four whole minutes. We all thought she'd end up in Ravenclaw at first. Hey, Tom, have you heard?"
The excited student was bursting to share.
Tom: "Hm?"
"At that competition Mr. Lockhart held in Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley—Hermione Granger won! She was amazing!"
Thanks for the compliment—Tom thought to himself.
"By the way, Tom, what's your favorite food? Is your whole family wizards too?"
Tom had a natural advantage: he was good-looking.
Add in his gentle personality, and everyone wanted to hang out with the handsome, nice kid.
Some people weren't so lucky.
Hermione was losing her mind.
"Miss Granger, could you sign this for me?"
Another random classmate she didn't even know.
Crazy!
I'm not some genius wizard prodigy—the actual prodigy is over there happily chowing down on roast goose!
After turning the kid down, Hermione boredly sized up Harry and Ron beside her.
Harry took a couple bites before starting to grumble quietly. "Hey, guys, why do you think that professor was late? The Sorting Ceremony's supposed to be a big deal, right…? Look over there—wow, why's he glaring like that?"
Following Harry's gaze, it was none other than Snape.
Snape was currently staring at Tom like he was a convicted criminal.
Ron slurped his tea loudly. "Harry, you're being too sensitive."
"It's not just me. Haven't you noticed a bunch of professors staring at Tom?"
Now that Harry mentioned it, they realized he was right.
Not just Snape—Professor Sprout, Professor Dumbledore, even the ghosts…
"What's that Azkaban place the Sorting Hat mentioned? Ron, you know?"
"It's a prison for really bad criminals. Once Azkaban's got its eye on you, Aurors and dementors come after you. They're terrifying!"
Harry: "You've seen one?"
Ron shrugged. "Nope."
Hermione, who'd been quiet the whole time, suddenly spoke up. "If someone… say, stole a few hundred pounds from somebody… and then helped a girl take a bath… would they get sent to Azkaban?"
"Hermione, do you have some weird idea about what criminals do?"
Hermione pouted.
She figured Tom totally deserved Azkaban!
Absolute monster, total monster!
Watching Tom polish off a huge plate of meat and chat happily with the girls next to him just made her even madder.
Absolute monster— wasn't that exactly Tom?
Dinner ended, and the students started heading out. They'd been given the passwords to their common rooms. Tonight they could sleep well, and classes would start tomorrow.
Ravenclaw's password was "Milk candy, cola, black tea."
Tom had barely set his stuff down in the dorm when he hopped back up.
"Hey, Tom, curfew's at eleven-thirty. You can't come back after that or you'll get detention."
"I know, thanks, guys." Tom flashed a bright, sunny smile that didn't quite match his name. "I'm just going to look around. New place—you've gotta get familiar with the layout, right?"
He was lying.
Out of all the first-years at Hogwarts, Tom knew the castle's layout the best.
Even if you counted the older students—and factored in Professor Snape's knowledge—no one could beat Tom.
"Oh yeah, do you guys want any late-night snacks? I can grab something on my way back."
"I'd love a cup of jasmine milk tea! Thanks, Tom!"
"I'm good—I ate plenty at dinner."
Tom gave an "OK" sign and left the dorm.
…
"Hagrid, weren't you full from dinner?"
In the staff area, Tom sat next to the giant Hagrid, watching him devour food and feeling a little hungry himself.
"I was scared I'd freak everyone out if I ate too much." Hagrid grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth—currently stuffed with meat, which looked a bit messy. "Little Tom, why're you back? Not full?"
"Nah, just wandering. Gets boring staying cooped up in the dorm. Hey, Hagrid, where's Professor Sprout?"
Hagrid scratched his beard, his big eyes rolling around. "At this hour, Professor Sprout's probably asleep… no, wait—she's got Herbology tomorrow. You might find her in the greenhouses."
Tom thanked him and started to leave, but Hagrid suddenly grabbed his shoulder. "Little Tom, remember—gotta be back before curfew, or it's detention."
"I know, thanks, Hagrid."
Tom headed to the greenhouses and, sure enough, found Professor Sprout there.
She really was a dedicated teacher—working this late prepping for tomorrow.
Hearing footsteps, Sprout looked up and smiled when she saw Tom. "Little Tom, lovely to see you again. Albus told me you had a bit of trouble a few days ago. I'm so glad you're okay.
Sweetie, what brings you to the greenhouses this late?"
"You've got class tomorrow—if something goes wrong with the teaching materials tonight, the students would be disappointed. I came to see if I could help." Tom looked completely sincere, meeting her eyes without flinching.
"Good boy, good boy. I don't need any help here. Maybe go check on Professor Snape—he's in a foul mood today and didn't even eat dinner."
Tom: "What's wrong with Professor Snape?"
"No idea. The past few days his mood was getting better—I thought he'd finally smartened up and brewed himself some potions to feel better. But today he's got dark circles under his eyes again." She pointed at her own eye. "Professor Snape's always like that. Probably seems scary to the kids."
Tom made an "oh" sound and started helping Sprout anyway.
There was a lot to prep for tomorrow. The first lesson was mostly identifying plants, but for Tom it was child's play.
Who do you think sorted all these herbs over the summer?!
Tom figured he could skip Herbology and Sprout wouldn't even mind. Of course, he wouldn't actually do that.
As Sprout's face grew more tired, Tom wrapped up for the night and left the greenhouse.
Snape's quarters… nope, not there.
Only one place left—the Potions lab.
Sure enough, the moment Tom reached the door, he smelled that familiar dry, bitter scent.
He knocked. "Professor Snape, you in there?"
No answer.
Tom carefully pushed the door open. Snape wasn't inside—just a cauldron bubbling over a flame. Looked like… a sleeping potion?
Snape couldn't sleep?
"Tom, what are you doing here?" A cold voice came from behind before Tom could look closer. "Or do you not realize you shouldn't be here at this hour!"
It was Snape.
"Or perhaps you're feeling smug about sneaking off to help Hermione and came to brag to Professor Dumbledore for house points?" Snape's face twisted into a sneer. "If I were Dumbledore, I'd take a hundred points from Ravenclaw!"
Professor Snape, you're extra chatty today.
Tom sat down. "Professor, I came to see you."
"Planning to skip my first Potions lesson tomorrow? I'm warning you, Tom—if you dare ditch even one of my classes, I'll have you expelled!"
Snape still looked furious, his glare enough to make weaker wizards cry.
"Professor, the potion."
Snape jumped, hurried over, stirred the cauldron two and a half turns clockwise, and skimmed it. "Why just say something? Can't you do it yourself?!
Tom, you're making me feel like I wasted my time teaching you—all those days in the lab for nothing!
Now get out and go back to your dorm. I don't want to see you again!"
Right up until the Sorting Hat yelled "RAVENCLAW," Snape had been convinced Tom was Slytherin material.
He'd been so sure!
"Wait!" Snape called as Tom turned to leave. "What did you leave in the Potions lab?"
"Pizza, Professor."
"Take your junk and get out! This sleeping potion's ruined—because of your stupidity! Throw it out!" Snape tossed the bottled potion at Tom.
"Tell me the effects of a sleeping draught."
Tom: "Taken before bed, it improves sleep quality. Long-term use increases total magical reserves. Pairs well with milk and jasmine—improves taste without affecting potency."
"Very good, Tooom! So clever! Get out!"
Snape practically hissed the words through clenched teeth.
"Professor, should I have gotten it wrong so you could correct me?"
Snape was about to explode, but when he saw Tom's innocent, wide-eyed look, he just waved him out.
Tom took two steps, then spun back around.
"TOOOM!"
"Professor, it's past curfew now. I'm late—I'll get detention."
Snape took a deep breath. "So what are you saying? That it's my fault you're late? Lucky me—I'll see you in detention tomorrow. Good night, Tom."
"Professor, you can't just leave me to get in trouble!"
Tom looked like he was about to cry.
"I'm the Head of Slytherin, not Ravenclaw. Take it up with Flitwick. Keep bothering me and I won't be so nice!"
"Severus—Tom?" A surprised voice cut in.
Minerva McGonagall walked through the door and saw an angry Snape and a flustered Tom.
"Tom, why are you still here…? Child, it's well past curfew."
Oh no—McGonagall!
The strictest professor in Hogwarts—the one who followed the rules to the letter!
We're screwed!
Tom's heart sank.
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