An hour later…
Snape still hadn't left. Hermione kept coughing nonstop on the hospital bed—she couldn't fall asleep at all.
Madam Pomfrey had checked on her and assured her it was completely normal. The constant coughing just meant her body was getting better.
Another hour passed, and Snape still hadn't budged.
Tom, waiting out in the corridor, was starting to get seriously impatient.
What happened to "one hour"?
Was Professor Snape planning to camp out here all night?
Suddenly, Snape stepped out and swung the door open.
"Uh… good evening, Professor Snape."
"Good evening, Granger. I hope you'll have your homework on my desk on time next week."
When did he spot me?
Tom hadn't noticed a thing. One second Snape was inside, the next—bam—he was caught red-handed.
Snape brushed coldly past him and headed out of the hospital wing.
"To… cough cough… what are you doing here?" Hermione asked from the bed. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Tom.
As he got closer, she pushed him away a little. "Don't stand so close—you'll catch it."
Tom grinned. "No big deal. It's not my body anyway. You'll just have to lie in bed a few extra days."
"?"
"Hey, don't give me that look. Check out what I brought you."
Tom clapped his hands. An owl swooped in through the window—Mira—and the colorful giant chicken, Sonja, quietly tiptoed in along the same path Tom had taken earlier.
"Mira! Sonja!" Hermione beamed. "Tom, you really are my best friend."
She thought for a second, then quickly added, "Just for today!"
"Yeah, seeing you this happy puts my mind at ease." Tom nodded, arms crossed. "And I've got even better news."
"What good news?"
"Did you hear what Professor Snape just said? Once you're better, don't forget to catch up on the homework. One hundred uses of potion ingredients—copied out by hand. Two copies." Tom held up two fingers. "Unfortunately, every first-year has to do it."
Hermione shot up, suddenly forgetting she was even sick. "Why do I have to do your copy too…?"
"If you don't, Snape will just keep piling on the pressure. Sigh. Imagine how upset he'd be if his favorite student disobeyed him. It wouldn't just be Ravenclaw that suffers."
He had a point.
Today's Snape—no, the past few days' Snape—had been showing signs. He was in a terrible mood and ready to punish anyone for anything.
Poor Neville had already spent three straight nights in detention in Snape's office. He looked like a lost puppy now.
"I take it back. You're still a jerk," Hermione huffed, grabbing an apple and chomping into it. Through a full mouth she mumbled, "So… do you know why Professor Snape's been so…"
She waved her hands, searching for the right word.
"Professor Snape's getting older, you know. Looks like you haven't been paying much attention to him lately," Tom said with a dramatic sigh. "If I had to guess, he has something he wants to tell you.
"More like… he wants to teach you something himself. And clearly, you didn't pick up on it."
Hermione's mouth fell open at the idea of Snape wanting to teach her something. "But he never said anything to me!"
"You'll probably never hear anything that straightforward from him in your entire life. Too bad, little Miss Hermione—you missed your chance at firsthand instruction from Professor Snape. Now you'll just have to settle for secondhand from me."
"That's not fair! I want to learn it right away too!"
"Oh? Well, tough luck. You're sick today. By the time you're better and he finally says it outright… you won't be Tom Riddle anymore."
"I'll be bouncing around perfectly fine tomorrow!" Hermione muttered defiantly under her breath. "I'm definitely going to his private lessons. That'll show you."
She finished one apple and reached for another. It was a little too far, so Tom handed it over and even peeled it for her.
"Thanks," she said, then immediately glared at him. "But I'm not giving up. Tomorrow I'm going to Professor Snape to learn new magic."
Tom patted her head. "Sure, sure. Keep staying awake like this—it'll totally cancel out the potion's effects. Yep… you'll probably be stuck here tomorrow too. By the time you're fully recovered, I'll be back at peak condition to face Snape myself."
Hermione stopped eating her apple. She held out her sticky hands for Tom to clean, then burrowed under the blankets.
Tom was pretty good at getting kids to sleep. Less than fifteen minutes later, Hermione was out cold.
"Dobby. Come out."
Tom tapped the chair. He didn't need to say it twice—a house-elf popped into view beside him and bowed low. "Dobby shouldn't have listened! Dobby knows nothing! Dobby won't tell anyone…"
Tom nodded. "Good. But you're wrong about one thing."
He gently patted Dobby's shoulder with a kind smile. "Remember what I told you before? You should be making amends to Hermione because you want to—not because you're scared of me.
"Because you hurt Hermione, so…"
"Dobby knows! Dobby has been doing it!" The elf looked up. "Dobby only came because… because 'Mr. Tom' was sick. Dobby wanted to check. Dobby won't do it again."
"No, you did great. A free elf should follow his heart. So, my friend—what do you think you should do right now?"
"Dobby should stay with Hermione! Dobby really wants to stay with Hermione!" Dobby said earnestly. "Mr. Tom is a good person. Hermione is a good person. Dobby should do this!"
"Great answer. Hermione will understand one day and won't blame you. I'm heading out now. But—if a professor named Quirrell shows up here, tell me immediately!"
Dobby nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir!"
With Dobby watching over Hermione, Tom left the hospital wing.
Winter at Hogwarts was pretty chilly, especially now that it was December.
The older students around the school were getting tense—almost as bad as final exams.
The Christmas Ball was coming up.
If you had a gorgeous date, you could brag about it for a whole year—until the next ball.
But if you couldn't find a partner? You'd be absolutely miserable.
Tom knew all this because, back when he was still in his own body last week, he'd gotten a ton of invitations.
Upper-year girls had sincerely begged him to dress a little more mature and sneak in as their date—hoping to fool the professors.
Of course, he'd turned them all down.
It was way too big a risk. Even Snape wouldn't let him off the hook for that.
Two days later—Hermione was fully recovered!
Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let her leave yet. She insisted on one more full day of rest and observation.
Bored out of her mind, Hermione spent the time reading every book she could get her hands on.
Finally, that afternoon, after endless pleading, Madam Pomfrey let her go.
Hermione was thrilled. She thanked the matron over and over before bouncing out.
"Tom! Congrats on getting out!"
"Tom! So good to see you full of energy again, kid. Here—put this on. Professor Sprout sent it specially, but she's in class and couldn't come herself." Hagrid affectionately draped a flower garland around Hermione's neck.
Terry, Lee Soo, and a bunch of other Ravenclaws whose names she knew but hadn't really talked to much all showed up.
Lee Soo sidled up to Tom. "Tom, you've gotta step it up!
"You have no idea—while you were sick these past few days, Professor Snape didn't deduct a single point from anybody!"
Hermione blinked. "What am I supposed to do about that…?"
"Hey, everyone knows you're tight with Snape. If you ask me, you should—"
Terry yanked Lee Soo away before he could finish. "Now you're giving Tom advice? Ignore him, Tom. You just got out—rest up. Don't burn yourself out again. Watching you push that hard before made us all worried.
"Though Soo was the most worried. He kept a picture of Merlin by his bed these past few days and was doing some kind of ritual every night."
"Terry! We agreed not to tell Tom!" Lee Soo's face went bright red.
"Thanks, guys," Hermione said with a smile. Then she spotted the person hiding in the back corner, reached out her hand, and announced, "Discharge gift, please."
Payback!
On Halloween, Tom had done the exact same thing—demanded a gift from her.
She hadn't forgotten.
But Tom was one step ahead. He walked right up, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into a hug. "Congrats on getting out."
"No—you… you…" Hermione flustered. "What are you doing? I want a gift!"
"Isn't a hug and best wishes from a friend the best gift there is?" Tom asked innocently. "Or do you think some random stuff is worth more than my genuine feelings?"
"Jerk!"
Hermione turned her head away, ignoring the giggling kids around them.
Because right now, she had somewhere to be.
She was going to find Professor Snape!
She was going to learn new magic from Professor Snape!
Just you wait, Tom. This term… no, next term!
Next term, I'll master an awesome Transfiguration spell and whatever new magic Snape teaches me. Then I'll beat you fair and square!
I'll turn Tom into a little mouse and lock him in a cage with Sonja and Mira!
The thought alone filled Hermione with pure joy.
And so, she arrived at the door to Professor Snape's office.