"Why are you still following me? Tom, you're acting like a total tag-along!"
Of course, the one saying this wasn't Hermione—it was Tom himself. After all, right now he was in Hermione's body.
"Hmph. I just want to see what someone's up to, pacing back and forth outside the classroom but refusing to go in. You do realize you have class today, right?"
Just because I have class doesn't mean I can't skip it! That's what Tom really wanted to say.
"I just need some fresh air," he replied. "Once I go in, I'll have to deal with that ghostly professor again. It's not a great feeling."
Tom leaned on the railing with both hands, half his body hanging over the edge. His long hair swayed gently in the breeze, and a few passing students slowed down to stare.
"You need to get to class!" Hermione grabbed his shoulder. "I'll sit with you the whole time, so no! Skipping! Class!
Professor Nardo welcomes every student who shows up to his lessons—whether they're supposed to be there or not."
Tom sighed. "Give me two more minutes. I just want a little quiet."
"Riddle, this is hardly gentlemanly behavior."
A third voice cut in, interrupting their back-and-forth.
Both Tom and Hermione turned curiously—and saw someone they never expected. The little pure-blood prince had his blond hair slicked neatly back without a single strand out of place.
His face always carried this inexplicable air of confidence, even though he was a total coward.
Not just a coward—his skills were pretty weak too, at least compared to Tom and Hermione.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Hermione frowned. "This doesn't concern you."
"Tom," Draco said, "I just think it's not very nice to pressure a girl like this."
Huh?
Tom froze on the spot.
Malfoy's sticking up for me…? Wait—Malfoy, how are you even brave enough to look "Tom Riddle" straight in the eye?
Sure enough, Hermione took two steps forward, closing the distance between her and Draco.
He suddenly seemed to remember something and quickly backed off.
"Riddle, please watch your behavior. This is a school."
"I thought you'd forgotten that," Hermione muttered under her breath. "Since you remember it's a school, kindly leave! Don't interrupt the two of us!"
Tom coughed and sidled away a bit. "Malfoy, Tom's always forcing people to do things they don't want to. But he's agreed to come to class with me now. I really appreciate you speaking up for me, but whatever you do, don't cross Tom—he'll get Professor Snape to throw you in detention."
Hermione: "???"
She pointed at herself in disbelief. "Me? Forcing people?"
"Harry! Ron!" Tom spotted two more passersby and waved them over. "So good to see you guys—come help me out here!"
Suddenly Hermione was the villain in everyone's eyes.
Harry and Ron were terrified of "Tom Riddle," but for "Hermione Granger's" sake…
After all, to them, Hermione was their best friend. Tom was just… some guy they knew.
Draco was feeling conflicted inside.
He'd seen Hermione in action last night—she'd genuinely thrilled him. He'd never seen a witch his age wield magic that skillfully.
By the time he snapped out of it, he realized he'd been subtly paying attention to this Mudblood ever since.
Last night he'd even dreamed about her—and himself.
He couldn't remember the details, but when he woke up he felt oddly empty. Then he looked at Crabbe and Goyle and suddenly thought they were complete idiots.
"Riddle, we need to sort this out. Come with us," Harry said, reaching for Hermione's arm.
"Me? Harry, you…" Hermione stumbled over her words. "No, I was just talking to To—uh, to Hermione about something private."
Ron shrugged. "Riddle, you're way too clingy with Hermione. No girl likes a guy hovering that close—even if you are a first-year prodigy."
Seeing the two step up, Draco chimed in too. "Exactly, Riddle. I admit you're stronger than me, and Professor Snape's on your side, but… you're in the wrong here!"
Hermione didn't have Tom's cool-under-pressure vibe. She waved her hands frantically. "I—I didn't—hey, you can't do this to me! Harry, let go… Ron, what are you doing? Stop pulling me!"
"Come on, let's not bother Hermione anymore. This way."
"Go to class and don't skip it!!!" Hermione yelled at Tom as they dragged her away.
Skipping? This is full-on, legitimate ditching.
Today's lesson was the mind-numbingly boring [Rapid Incantation Correspondence Course].
Going would just be a waste of time and energy for Tom right now.
Unless he felt like showing off for no reason.
With his current skill level, he was as good at rapid incantations as most seventh-years.
"G-Granger, M-Miss…"
Tom was just about to make his escape when he heard a stuttering voice.
He turned—and there was Professor Quirrell.
"Hello, Professor Quirrell," Tom said with a smile, though his breathing stiffened for a split second.
He could feel it—a gaze watching him… from the back of Quirrell's head.
"Professor Quirrell, have you ever been to Japan?"
The question made Quirrell suddenly tense up, his stutter worsening. "N-No, n-never. M-Miss Granger, wh-what are you t-trying to s-say?"
"My parents are Muggles. Before I got my Hogwarts letter—no, before Professor McGonagall showed up—I didn't believe in magic at all. Back then we traveled a lot as a family, including to Japan.
"On the streets, in restaurants, on buses or trains, I always felt this weird stare. People would look at me rudely, scanning my whole body. It made me really uncomfortable.
"Professor Quirrell, have you ever felt a stare like that?"
The moment the words left Tom's mouth, Voldemort's gaze vanished.
"M-Miss Granger, p-perhaps you were j-just nervous. Oh, r-right—you had a q-question last week, d-didn't you?"
Tom thought for a second and nodded.
During class, Professor Quirrell had mentioned "Legilimency."
He'd described it as a foul, terrifying dark magic that could extract memories and emotions from others.
Curious little Hermione had immediately raised her hand.
Tom had asked what to do if you ever encountered that awful magic.
Quirrell had named one spell.
Occlumency.
"M-Miss Granger, d-do you h-have time r-right now? P-Perhaps I c-could give you s-some guidance on Occlumency."
Guide who—me?
What would you say if I told you my teacher is Professor Snape?
"I…" Tom suddenly caught on. "Professor Quirrell, how exactly would you teach it? Occlumency seems like really advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts material. I'm only a first-year—it might be too hard for me."
"N-No problem. I'll u-use Legilimency on you w-within your limits. P-Practical experience is the b-best way to p-practice."
Is he offering to help me train my Occlumency?
Yeah, I doubt it's that simple, Professor.
His real goal is probably to use Legilimency to peek into my memories.
"Of course," Tom said with a smile. "But could I trouble you for a little time? Are you free this evening at seven?"
"Y-Yes, I am."
After saying goodbye to Professor Quirrell, Tom hurried off.
…
"Professor McGonagall!"
Tom knocked and stepped into the office, then dramatically clapped both hands over his mouth with a little gasp. "Oh my goodness, Professor, you look absolutely stunning today! You seem in such a great mood too—has something wonderful happened lately?
"When I was little, the big sister next door was just as beautiful as you. I adored her."
Professor McGonagall couldn't hold back a laugh. "Hermione, every few weeks you turn into quite the charmer. Out with it—what do you want me to teach you this time?"
"Professor, you make me sound so calculating. I genuinely mean it!
"Oh, by the way—did that [Potions Polish Beauty Potion] I brought you last time work? Has your skin felt smoother, more refined?"
"It certainly did, child. Thank you," McGonagall said, her smile growing warmer. "I'm proud of you. You're probably the hardest-working first-year we have—if only you'd stop breaking school rules.
"But don't be upset about it. Everyone bends the rules now and then. Punishing you doesn't mean I dislike you—I just want you to learn from your mistakes."
Tom nodded. "I understand, Professor. Making mistakes isn't scary. What's scary is… not learning from them, right?"
"You're a bright one."
Tom smiled. "Though you did guess right about one thing—I do have a favor to ask."
"Hmm?" McGonagall was in a great mood. "Go ahead, child."
"Use Legilimency on me!"
The quill in Professor McGonagall's hand froze mid-air. She stared at the girl in front of her in shock.
What on earth is this child talking about?
"Professor, don't misunderstand!"
Tom explained everything about Quirrell, adding his own "objective suspicions."
Like how he felt something watching him whenever Quirrell was around.
Like how he'd just encountered the mysterious stranger last night, and now Quirrell suddenly shows up.
Like why Quirrell would offer to teach a first-year Occlumency…
After Tom's long-winded explanation, McGonagall got the picture.
Tom suspected Professor Quirrell was Voldemort!
"I want to test how strong my Occlumency really is. Um, I've learned a tiny bit—just a little—but you know, I don't trust Professor Quirrell, and I definitely don't want him seeing my memories.
"Besides, no girl wants some stranger peeking into her private thoughts."