Hogwarts.
The Gryffindor kids were all looking pretty miserable.
At first, they thought Professor Snape was in a surprisingly good mood today.
Hermione Granger wasn't in class. Normally, even if she'd asked for a sick day, Snape would've ripped into Gryffindor for being lazy and slapped them with a huge point deduction.
But today? Nothing. That's why they figured he was actually in a decent mood.
They were dead wrong, though.
Snape wasn't in a good mood—he was in a terrible one!
"Pot-ter!" Snape's first strike landed. "Miss Granger isn't here today. I hope that without her, you'll have the good fortune not to mess up a single thing in your potion work!"
"Mr. Weasley, use that bright red hair of yours to think for once! Should you really be adding bezoar at this stage? Are you and Potter trying to waste my ingredients? Do it again!!!"
Malfoy kept his head down, but he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. He was secretly loving this.
He had zero good feelings toward Harry and Ron—not even a tiny speck the size of a Bertie Bott's bean. Especially after finding out these two were always hanging around Hermione like lost puppies. It made him hate them even more.
"Mr. Malfoy, I hope you can control that smile. Do you think your work is perfect?"
The third sword swung—right at Slytherin. Right at Malfoy.
Suddenly, everyone straightened up in their seats.
This potions class was pure torture!
Even Malfoy was getting yelled at—no one could afford to slack off!
The two-hour lesson felt like two years.
Snape's eyes scanned the room like a hawk. The tiniest mistake, and points would vanish.
Finally, the two hours were up. The moment Snape swept out of the room, both Slytherin and Gryffindor students let their shoulders sag.
"Did Snape eat something weird today?" Ron muttered. "Even when Tom was sick, he wasn't this mad. Did Tom die or something?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't say that. But do you know why Hermione's not here?"
"No idea. We could ask Lavender."
Lavender was Hermione's dormmate, so Ron figured she'd know.
They tracked her down, but Lavender just shook her head. "She was up early this morning, already dressed and everything. She spent a solid half hour in front of the mirror primping. I've never seen her put that much effort into her appearance.
You should ask Tom. They're really close—seems like they don't keep secrets from each other."
Shouldn't I be the one she doesn't keep secrets from?
Harry felt a pang of jealousy, but he snapped back, "Hermione's with us all the time. Even we don't know. How would Tom?"
Parvati yawned. "Hermione and Tom went to Hogsmeade together… oh, I mean, they went to serve detention."
She almost slipped up.
Detention? Please. Dumbledore had told them it was a special mission, all serious-like.
And he'd reminded them to be back before curfew.
How long does a "mission" take? An hour? Two? The rest of the time… well, it's obvious what they were up to.
"Hogsmeade?" Ron asked, skeptical. "No way—they're first-years. That's impossible!"
"For ordinary little wizards like us, sure. But you should go ask around about what's been happening the last couple days. And while you're at it, find out who's showing up at the Christmas Ball."
Parvati yawned again, grabbed her friend, and headed back to the dorm for a nap.
…
By the end of the morning, Hogwarts was buzzing with rumors.
"Hey, did you hear? Snape… yeah, the Slytherin Head of House… apparently has a secret son. First-year this year. Name's… Tom Riddle."
"But the last names are different? Who's Riddle?"
"Ravenclaw first-year. The cute little Tom that Sprout's always going on about—that's him. You'll see him at the Christmas Ball."
"But he's a first-year!"
"Hmph. As long as all the professors agree, even a first-year can go."
"No way! McGonagall would never. I tried asking her when I was a first-year, and her glare practically threatened to put me in detention forever!"
The red-haired twins grinned and held out their hands. "One Galleon, and we'll give you the real scoop. No one else knows."
After getting the coin, the twins' smiles grew even wider. "Shh—McGonagall actually agreed to let Tom go. Word is, all the Heads and even Dumbledore himself talked her into it."
Gossip spread like wildfire at Hogwarts—faster than ink in water.
By the time Harry and Ron heard the story, it had twisted completely.
"Tom? Oh, he's Snape's secret son and Dumbledore's adopted kid. Grew up with Sprout.
He's really into Hermione, right? She was pretty upset the other day, so he took her to Hogsmeade for a little trip. You guys are her friends—you didn't know?
At Christmas, she'll be in a fancy dress, arm-in-arm with Tom on the dance floor. They've been betrothed since they were kids."
Ron: "??"
Harry: "???"
No way! Total lies!
Harry gritted his teeth. Betrothed? He'd never heard that. And Hermione herself said she hated Tom the most!
Tom being Snape's secret son? Even more impossible!
Just as Harry was fuming, he spotted another guy who looked just as miserable—Draco Malfoy.
Malfoy plopped his tray down next to Harry and sat.
Harry never thought this annoying jerk would sit next to him.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?!"
Malfoy took a bite of honey cake. All that honey and sugar, but it tasted bitter as anything.
"Potter, you and Hermione are close, right? Do you know about her and Tom?"
"It's all fake!" Harry snapped. "We're her best friends. She said herself she hates Tom the most. What do you care, coward?"
"Is it really fake?" Malfoy didn't argue. Instead, he asked, "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure!"
"Snape never gets mad at me—you know that. But when Tom's upset, Snape goes off on everyone. Even Slytherins. Even me!
Remember the first time you met Hermione? On the Hogwarts Express. Who was sitting across from her? Tom Riddle!
They've known each other forever, and they get along great. Think about it!"
Memories flashed through Harry's mind.
…In the potions classroom when the troll showed up, Hermione was the first to rush in, wand raised like she was protecting something precious.
When she saw that pool of blood on the floor, she threw herself down—kneeling right in it, not caring about her clothes.
Harry's mouth twitched. He looked down, bangs hiding his eyes.
"You already know the answer, don't you?" Malfoy set his cake aside. "I'm not giving up. We Malfoys are noble pure-bloods. And he—Tom Riddle—is just a mud… just a half-blood!"
Harry frowned. "What are you saying?"
"Like you said, I'm a coward. If I'd stepped up that day in the Forbidden Forest—if I hadn't let Hermione face that thing alone—maybe she'd look at me differently. Maybe she wouldn't hate me so much."
Malfoy held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy."
"Harry Potter!"
The two rivals shook hands, suddenly on the same side.
Ron just stared, totally confused.
What the heck are you two talking about…?
…
Hogsmeade.
"Tom, why is the Three Broomsticks so hot?"
"I don't know about the bar, but your face is bright red."
Tom had a bad feeling.
Don't tell me you're drunk!
"Hermione, how much did you just drink?"
Hermione's head was spinning. She held up three fingers. "Just one sip. Stingy. What's the big deal? I'll buy you another one."
"Ma'am, can we get some sobering potion? Please bring one for the young lady across from me!"
One butterbeer and she's drunk?
From now on, kids sit at the kids' table. Lemonade's better for her.
"Tom, I'm gonna tell you a secret." Hermione hiccuped and held up one finger. "A huge secret. Only I know it."
"Go ahead."
Madam Rosmerta brought the sobering tea, saw the two cute kids sharing secrets, smiled behind her hand, set it down, and quietly slipped away so she wouldn't interrupt.
"Thanks." Tom thanked her and set the tea in front of him, planning to give it to Hermione after she spilled her big secret.
"Hic… I'm telling you… I'm kinda thirsty. Can I have some water?"
Tom slid the hot butterbeer over. "Here. This is plain water."