"Hermione, look at this." Cho Chang picked up a red flower. "A red morning glory. You don't see them much around school."
"Yeah, it's really pretty. You'd look great with it in your hair, senpai—it'd suit you perfectly."
"Huh?" Cho's cheeks flushed a little. "No, it wouldn't suit me. It'd look better on you. Here, let me put it on you."
"That'd start rumors. By tomorrow the whole school would be whispering, 'Cho-senpai gave someone a red flower.' Do you want to see all the boys crying their eyes out?"
Living Hermione's life felt like a vacation to Tom.
Super relaxed.
He even had time to skip a few classes to go adventuring with Harry and the others—definitely not because he wanted to ditch class himself.
Those dry, boring lectures just weren't interesting.
If History of Magic wasn't mandatory and didn't affect end-of-year grades, Tom would've skipped it ages ago.
…
Life stayed peaceful for a good while.
A lot had happened at Hogwarts in that time.
For example… Gryffindor won the Quidditch match!
Originally, Tom's Ravenclaw housemates had been hyping him up to try out. They were sure with his talent he could win a championship too.
But Tom turned them down.
Quidditch practice took way too much time, and he only had half his days as "Tom"—the other half he had to live as "Hermione."
Whenever Quidditch came up, Tom brushed it off with "No time, and I can't afford a broom."
Word even got back to Professor Snape.
Tom straightened his robes and left the lab.
"Malfoy, that's going too far!"
"Harry, don't!" Hermione's warning came too late.
Harry lunged at Malfoy.
Malfoy calmly flicked his wand. "Levicorpus!"
"Harry!"
Ron tackled Harry to the ground, dodging the spell.
But the curse… flew straight toward Tom, who'd just stepped out of the lab.
In Tom's eyes, the spell was slow—painfully slow.
He'd been training Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Snape lately. He could've dispelled it without even using a wand.
Nah, life was too boring. Time to spice things up.
Perfect chance to settle the score with the Malfoy family for what happened before school started.
Because of them, Tom had to go looking for Hermione—and ended up terrified by a whole cave full of Acromantulas!
Tom wasn't petty, but he believed in punishing every kid who messed up.
"Tom!" Hermione snapped out of it too late.
Almost instinctively, she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around Tom to shield him with her back.
But Tom twisted nimbly, pulling her behind him instead.
Bang!
Tom closed and opened his eyes—his feet were now dangling in the air.
"MALFOY!!!" Hermione was angrier than she'd ever been. "That's too far!"
She raised her wand at Malfoy.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" Tom flicked his hand. "Expelliarmus!"
Hermione's wand clattered to the floor.
"The professors will be here any second. You want detention? I'm not sitting in there with you."
Tomorrow was the body swap—he wanted to enjoy his last day of vacation, not spend it in detention.
Malfoy panicked at the word "professors." "I didn't—"
"Ha! So you're Tom, huh? Everyone says you're the best first-year. Didn't expect Malfoy's Levicorpus to get you." It was Vincent Crabbe, Malfoy's chubby sidekick. "Mudblood's a mudblood—just like Hermione!"
"Beg me, and maybe I'll let you down."
Tom yawned, ignoring the taunt. "Or you could leave me hanging. Let's guess—who's coming? Professor Snape, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick…
What do you think they'll do when they see me like this?"
Malfoy's stomach dropped.
He'd finally beaten this guy once, but he couldn't feel happy about it—he'd heard Professor Snape was really protective of Tom.
"Finite Incantatem!"
Trying to undo it?
Tom didn't even move his lips—just lifted his hand slightly.
Finite!
I just finite'd your finite!
Wait till Snape gets here—I'll hit the ground crying. Good luck then!
What? Malfoy's in Slytherin?
So what? Snape's practically my godfather material!
"Damn it, why isn't it working?" Malfoy shook his wand.
He thought it was the wand's fault.
"Finite Incantatem!"
Finite!
Tom's casting was way faster.
"Finite Incantatem!"
No effect!
"What are you doing!!!"
Finally—the professors.
But it wasn't Snape. It was McGonagall.
"Riddle—and you, Malfoy. I hope you have an explanation."
"Professor McGonagall, Malfoy used Levicorpus on Tom," Hermione said quickly. "Please help get him down."
Before McGonagall could act, a freezing chill swept the corridor. Everyone felt it—a shiver down their spines.
Snape's voice echoed from afar. "Malfoy—who gave you permission to use that spell? Tell me! Who! Gave! You! Permission!"
"Finite Incantatem!"
Snape's dead-fish eyes finally showed emotion. He was furious like never before.
"Tom, tell me what happened." In his worry, Snape forgot to use "Riddle" in front of everyone.
"I don't know, Professor." Tom looked all pitiful. "I'd just left the Potions lab when Malfoy randomly called me a mudblood and hung me up without warning.
I'd been brewing potions all day—I didn't have the energy to fight back. Now I'm dizzy and my ears are ringing. I just want to go sleep."
"MALFOY!" Snape's glare pinned the three boys, scaring them stiff.
"Professor Snape, let me explain—"
"Who taught you to call classmates 'mudblood'? And who taught you that lowlife spell? Detention tonight—and for the next month, you three don't need to attend classes."
Malfoy gasped. "A month?
Professor Snape, we'll fail everything!"
"Grades matter? In my eyes, your grades are already 'E.' Potions is locked in—you're worse than trolls!
Now—get to detention! You, come with me."
The last part was to Tom.
As they left, Tom glanced back and flashed Malfoy's group a huge, bright smile.
On purpose?
The answer hit Malfoy.
Tom Riddle did it on purpose? He silently countered my Finite so Snape would see this exact scene?
How could he!
Too far—way too far!
"Malfoy, are we really getting a month's detention?"
"We'll go to Professor Dumbledore. It's just a little thing—they won't keep us that long." Malfoy sighed.
On the other side.
Tom followed Snape into his office.
The moment the door closed, Snape sat down and pulled a potion from his drawer. "Why are you so stupid? The lab's full of potions—couldn't you brew yourself a Wiggenweld?
Tom, maybe I overestimated your brain. You're no different from a troll!"
He said that, but he still ordered Tom to drink the restorative potion.
"Professor, I just noticed you've been off lately. I wanted to brew you some cheering potions—I read about them in a book. Supposedly they keep you happy.
If you're happy, I'm happy."
Snape: "…"
For the first time, he was speechless around Tom.
"Get out. Next time someone attacks you—fight back, got it? Don't make me regret teaching you defense."
"I understand, Professor." Tom bowed, walked to the door, then turned back just before opening it. "Professor, it'd be great if you were my godfather. Then no one would call me mudblood."
He didn't give Snape a chance to respond—Tom shut the door.
Dinner was late that night. Snape arrived even later, limping like he'd hurt his leg.
Hermione was distracted.
She didn't know why she'd hugged Tom like that.
Had she really started seeing that jerk as a friend?
Hey, where's Tom anyway?
She glanced toward the Ravenclaw table—no sign of him.
"Troll—there's a troll! It's in the first-floor corridor!" Professor Quirrell stumbled into the Great Hall and collapsed.
A troll?
Hermione shot to her feet.
First-floor corridor—at this hour, Tom should still be in the Potions lab!
He couldn't even cast Finite earlier—his magic must be completely drained.
If he ran into a troll now…
No!
Hermione stood up, but Harry grabbed her. "Hermione, what are you doing?"
"Tom! Tom's probably still in the Potions lab—the troll will kill him!"
"Tell a professor. Let them handle it—we can't fight a troll!"
No!
Back then, Tom could've told a professor too—let them save her.
But if he had, she'd probably be dead.
"Harry, you and Ron go back. I—I'm going to find Tom."
"Then we're coming with you. We're friends, right? Friends stick together."
"You're right…" Hermione couldn't argue. She let them follow.
The students were filing out by house—no one noticed the three slip away.
"Hermione, slow down—you'll get us spotted by the troll."
"No, we won't!" Hermione's voice was firm. "We'll hear the troll before it hears us. But how did something like that even get in the school?"
"I suspect Snape," Harry said after a long silence. "Didn't you notice? When Snape showed up tonight, his leg was hurt. It's gotta be connected to the troll.
And at the Quidditch match, he went after me too. It's definitely him!"
Snape?
Hermione didn't think so. Tom was right—Snape always looked grumpy, but he might be a good person. At least to Tom.
Unless Tom was bad too.
But if Tom was bad, he wouldn't have shown up to save her that day!
"Snort—snort—!"
They heard the troll's heavy breathing—deep rumbles that shook the floor.
A troll lumbered out of the Potions lab into view, swinging a massive club that matched its size.
Just the troll—where's Tom?
Hermione froze, her mind going blank.