"Hey! What do you think you are, some delicate little lady? Ease up a bit!" Tom felt like his insides were screaming in protest.
Hermione wasn't exactly some frail, dainty girl anymore—maybe she used to be, a long time ago.
But the Hermione now? She might not be able to uproot mountains or overpower the world, but beating Ron and Harry flat with her bare hands wouldn't be a problem.
"Lighten up!"
"I'm scared I'll fall off!" Hermione yelled from behind him.
"If you keep squeezing that hard, we're both gonna die—and I'll go first!"
"That'd be perfect," Hermione shot back quickly. "I'd have taken out a total jerk myself. I'm sure Professor Lockhart would write my heroic deed into one of his books someday."
The Firebolt sliced through the air in one S-turn after another, rocketing straight toward the blazing sun.
...
A few minutes later, both of them calmed down. Tom stopped the high-speed flying, and Hermione loosened her death grip before she actually strangled him.
The wind whooshed past their ears. If Hermione wanted to talk, she had to lean her head on his shoulder and shout right into his ear.
Hagrid was following behind on his flying motorbike, watching every move they made and nodding with a warm smile.
These two had such an enviable friendship.
Little did he know, Hermione was chattering away like a machine gun on the other side.
"Tom, you're such a jerk, a villain, a slimy troll!" Hermione's vocabulary was limited, but she'd racked her brain for the nastiest words she could think of. Still, to Tom's ears, it all sounded like playful whining.
"Do you have any idea how close I came to falling off when you sped up like that? If I'd fallen, you'd be a murderer—Hogwarts would expel you, Misha would be heartbroken, and you owe me an apology!"
Tom mumbled under his breath, "But you're the one who said it wasn't fast enough and told me to speed up..."
"When did I ever tell you to speed up?!" Hermione wanted to twist his side, but she was afraid he'd accelerate again, so she just pounded his back a couple times instead. "Jerk—slow down a little more!"
Winter in London had its own kind of beauty, especially out here away from the city.
Tall trees blanketed in pure white snow, animal tracks dotting the ground cover—it all blended perfectly with the surroundings, making you feel peaceful and happy.
No wonder Hogsmeade was the perfect spot for young couples to date. Even the road leading to the village was a stunning sight.
If a couple walked hand-in-hand through the snow... tsk tsk...
"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Hermione tapped his shoulder. "You still haven't told me what Professor Snape taught you."
She'd done all the work herself, but Tom had swooped in and taken the credit. Hermione wasn't thrilled about that.
"Evil dark magic," Tom said, thinking back to what the Severing Charm was really for. He explained it to her. "Professor Snape's worried the Dark Lord will come after me. You know I'm the only student at school who's gone eye-to-eye with him so far—and even landed a few hits. There might be payback later."
Hermione had heard this story plenty of times, but it still shocked her every time.
"How exactly did you drive off the Dark Lord? Isn't he supposed to be... really terrifying?
Tom, back then... I mean, weren't you scared? What did it feel like fighting him?"
Curious kitten Hermione's eyes lit up.
"Calm down. The Dark Lord right now isn't as scary as you think."
Tom was pretty confident—if he faced Professor Quirrell now, he couldn't guarantee a full win, but it'd be a close match, fifty-fifty!
"I actually wanted to ask you—"
Hermione's words caught in her throat. She'd spotted the view ahead.
Hogsmeade Village—they'd arrived!
It wasn't as grand as Hogwarts or as high-tech as London, but it bustled with people. Wizards carrying wands crossed paths on the streets.
With Christmas coming, the whole village felt cozy and warm. Madam Puddifoot's—or rather, the Twilfitt and Tatting's wizard clothing store—was packed with young, adorable little witches and wizards.
They held hands, their breath puffing out in white clouds like little elves floating up, rising, falling, over and over.
Hermione's eyes sparkled. "Tom, look! That's pretty much the biggest wizard clothing chain in all of Britain! I've read that a ton of noble wizard families buy their robes there.
The book also said that if you buy a scarf there at Christmas and give it to someone you like, Cupid will tie your fates together forever."
"That's all nonsense," Tom said without hesitation, bursting the store's bubble. "Look over there."
He pointed to a sign outside Twilfitt and Tatting's. There was a pink little creature on it that looked just like Cupid—except it was sprinkling white crystals down.
"That thing's great at setting the mood. As soon as it spots a couple heading in, it secretly dusts them with love potion. See? Look—their breath is coming out in heart shapes now. So shady, using tricks like that to drum up business!"
Hermione: "..."
"Tom! Honeydukes!
They don't just sell tons of different candies—they've got homemade creamy toffees and huge chocolate blocks. Every Hogwarts student loves it, and it's super affordable. You can get a massive bag for less than one Galleon!"
Tom: "The cost for that big bag is probably under three Sickles. They really know how to make money."
Hermione: "Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop! I hear there are little angels in there that bless every couple who dates there on Valentine's Day."
Tom: "Yeah, I see the owner's chubby golden angels. They're tossing candies at the customers. Man, I should open a few places like this someday—they must rake in a ton of Galleons every year."
No matter how Hermione tried to hype up the shops, clever Tom acted like his brain was offline, completely ruining the vibe.
Hermione thought it was all so romantic and enviable, but coming out of Tom's mouth... it just sounded like shady businesses raking in cash.
"Kids, time to land. We can't fly any farther ahead," Hagrid said, pulling up coolly on his motorbike. He pointed to the ground below, signaling them to touch down.
Tom gripped the front and handled the Firebolt like a pro—a slick drift later, accompanied by Hermione's scream, they were back on solid ground.
Once on the ground, the chase was on: Hermione pursuing, Tom fleeing. Her little pink fists never quite landed.
"What a pair of close friends," Hagrid said with a fond sigh. He nodded, never jealous of kids' happiness—it just reminded him of his own days at Hogwarts...
"Come on, little ones, follow me."
Hermione finally caught up and slapped Tom's back—but his back was all muscle, so she ended up clutching her stinging palm instead.
The Three Broomsticks.
This was the pub Hogwarts students visited most. Soft orange-yellow lights brought a touch of warmth to the winter day. The three of them sat at a small round table, and Hermione gazed around like a curious baby, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.
"I'll have an iced soda water. What about you two?" Hagrid called out to the landlady, Madam Rosmerta.
Hermione: "Lemon water!"
Tom: "One Butterbeer and one hot mead, please. Thanks."
Tom didn't look or act like a first-year—from his appearance to his vibe—so Madam Rosmerta figured he was a regular drinker.
But she noticed Hermione and turned curiously to Hagrid. "Mr. Hagrid, this young lady is...?"
"Hermione Granger, first-year. I've got two little helpers with me this time."
Madam Rosmerta smiled in understanding.
They'd found a loophole—Hogsmeade rules said no students below third year could visit for fun, but they were here as Hagrid's assistants, not tourists.
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am. I'm Tom Riddle. The atmosphere in your pub is wonderful—it's freezing outside, but the second I walked in, I felt warm all over."
Madam Rosmerta smiled kindly. "Glad you like it, Mr. Riddle. Hope your task goes smoothly. I'll get those drinks for you."
Once the drinks arrived, Hagrid clasped his hands and got serious. "Tom, Hermione—for the next little while, you need to stay right here in the Three Broomsticks until I get back. Won't take long, three hours tops. Hope you can hang in there.
When I return, I can take you on a quick tour of Hogsmeade—of course, with me there. You know the rules; I can't break 'em."
Hermione looked confused. "Don't we need to do anything?"
"Of course you do," Hagrid said with a grin. "Before I get back, fill your bellies and make sure you're not hungry or cold. Then, when I'm here, stay happy and enjoy exploring Hogsmeade properly. Kids, this is Albus's gift—to two hardworking young ones."
With that, Hagrid chugged his soda water and headed out. Before leaving, he asked Madam Rosmerta to keep an eye on the pair.
She didn't mind at all—she adored every Hogwarts kid and had great relationships with the professors.
...
"Tom." Hermione eyed his cup curiously. "What's Butterbeer taste like? I've heard tons of students love it, but I've never tried it."
Tom licked his lips, savoring the memory. "Hmm... hard to describe. A little sweet, a little creamy, not much bitterness. Want a sip?"
Hermione: "!"
"What about the hot mead? Wanna try that too?"
Hermione: "!!!"