Hermione took another couple of sips, then suddenly smacked her lips.
"What secret did you just say?" Tom asked, propping his chin on his hands, looking dead serious.
"I know you won that competition against Lockhart… hic! And then you sold the stuff and got Galleons for it."
Tom sweatdropped. That's supposed to be a secret…?
Fine, whatever. She knows—so what?
"So I've been stashing a bunch of Galleons. From helping Hagrid with the creatures, and sorting herbs for Professor Sprout…"
No wonder I noticed some Galleons missing!
Tom nodded. "Where'd you hide them?"
"I forgot…" Hermione pulled a sad little kitten face. "I was scared you'd find them if I wrote it down, so I just kept it in my head. But Professor Snape's always so strict every day, and I… forgot…"
"Whatever. It's not that many Galleons anyway." Tom sighed, trying to comfort her.
He was basically a mini Potions master now. Honestly, he was never short on cash.
At Hogwarts, the only person who could claim to be better than him at potions was probably Severus Snape himself.
"Over three hundred Galleons."
Tom: "???"
All his exhaustion vanished in an instant. His eyes went wide.
Over three hundred Galleons?!
How much did I earn slaving away at those jobs? Where the heck did you get three hundred?!
Okay, okay—so Hermione has her own little secrets too.
After saying that, Hermione face-planted onto the table.
It took a full two hours for her to come around.
She rubbed her eyes; her head was still fuzzy.
"Don't drink if you can't handle it. Here, sobering tea."
Hermione felt embarrassed and couldn't meet his eyes. She mumbled a thanks and downed it in a few gulps.
"How long was I out?"
"Three hours, thirty-two minutes, and sixteen seconds. Feeling better?"
Hermione blinked in surprise. For some reason, Tom seemed a lot gentler than usual.
She shook her head, trying to remember. The last thing she recalled was getting dizzy after that sip of butterbeer. Everything after that was a blank.
"Hagrid's still not back?"
"Nope." Tom nodded gravely. "By my count, he's been gone four hours now."
When Hagrid left, he'd promised he'd be back in three hours tops.
But clearly, that time had come and gone.
And Tom hadn't gotten any message from him.
"You don't think something happened to Hagrid, do you?" Curious kitten Hermione started brainstorming. "Maybe we should go look for him?"
To Hermione, a little adventure in Hogsmeade sounded kind of exciting.
"I'll ask Madam Rosmerta."
Tom was back in just a few minutes, shaking his head.
"What… what do we do?" Hermione was starting to panic. "Hagrid might really be in danger. We can't just sit here, Tom!"
"Call Miola over. We'll get word to Professor Dumbledore."
"Miola's locked in her cage. Maybe we can just tell Madam Rosmerta."
"…Tom… Hermione…" A low voice suddenly whispered beside them.
Both of them looked down. Dobby the house-elf was huddled in the corner, hands over his face. "Dobby mustn't say… but Dobby has to say… Dobby, Dobby… Tom, Hermione, you must not go back to school! You must never go back!
Stay in Hogsmeade—do not leave the village, no matter what!"
Dobby's voice was frantic. The way his hands twitched and his huge eyes darted around showed how serious this was.
Aragog's dad? Or that noseless ugly thing?
Before Tom could figure out how to ask, Hermione jumped in. "Do you know where Hagrid went? And who's trying to get us?"
She grabbed Dobby's arm anxiously—she was genuinely worried about their friend Hagrid.
Seeing Dobby's evasive eyes only made her more frantic. "Tell us!"
"Dobby mustn't say… but do not send any letters to the school. Letters will not get through…"
Tom gently patted Hermione's hand and eased her grip. "Relax, Dobby."
There was always something warm and sunny about Tom's voice. Whenever Dobby heard it, no matter how panicked he was, he calmed down instantly.
He looked up at Tom, staring at that reassuring smile.
"Yeah, deep breaths. Calm down, easy now—"
Dobby did as he was told, and the wild look in his eyes settled.
"Hey, little Dobby, you can just nod or shake your head, okay? Did you come find me because of what I told you before?"
Tom had once told Dobby that if Hermione was ever in danger, he needed to let Tom know right away.
When Dobby nodded vigorously, Tom let out a soft "mm-hmm."
"If I tried to go back to school…" Before Tom could finish, Dobby was already shaking his head like a rattle.
So we can't go back…
"Dobby, telling us this won't get you in trouble with your master, right? You know house-elves can't betray their masters. I don't want to cause problems for you."
Dobby kept shaking his head.
"Okay, got it. One last question—do you know where Hagrid is?"
"Mr. Hagrid is fine. He was only tricked. But… but he is still safe. Mr. Hagrid tried to send you an owl. Dobby took the letter… Dobby…"
Seeing Dobby start clutching his head like he was about to bang it on the table again, Tom quickly patted his back. "Hey, little guy, calm down. It's okay—I won't ask any more. Thank you. You've made up for your earlier mistake with your actions. I'm really glad."
"Did… did Dobby help Tom?"
"Of course." Tom gave him a warm smile. "We're good here. Go do whatever you need to do."
Dobby gave them a few worried looks, but the rules binding house-elves forced him to leave.
Once he was gone, Hermione grabbed Tom's arm and started firing questions nonstop.
"Hey, you need to calm down too!" Tom ruffled her hair until it was a mess. "Dobby's master is Lucius Malfoy."
The moment she heard that name, Hermione's eyes lit up with recognition. "That jerk!"
You even sound cute when you're insulting someone, babe…
Tom held back a smirk. "Here's what I think happened: someone approached Hagrid, probably talked about magical creatures, and convinced him to write telling us to head back to Hogwarts. Then Dobby intercepted the letter."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because if we go back to school, we'll be in danger." Tom pulled Hermione closer and held her hands tight. "Listen—this time, it's not Lucius who's after us. Okay? We're dealing with something way more dangerous."
Something way more dangerous?
Hermione rarely saw Tom this serious. She squeezed his hands back hard and suddenly realized what he meant.
Her whole body started shaking. "You don't mean…"
The name was on the tip of her tongue, but Tom quickly covered her mouth. "Don't say it. Never say it. But don't worry—he wouldn't dare try anything here in Hogsmeade. There are too many wizards around.
If he made a move, every witch and wizard here would turn on him. Got it?
Hermione, stay close to me. You're the target, not me. I'll be fine—and I'm not letting anything happen to you either. We still have the Christmas ball to go to together, and then holidays to visit Misha."
Voldemort!
No doubt about it—that guy.
Feeling the warmth from Tom's hands, Hermione nodded. "What do we do?"
"First, you and I are going to go act cute."
Hermione: "???"
…
Half an hour later, thanks to their combined cuteness attack, Tom and Hermione had permission to use a cauldron plus some potion ingredients.
Madam Rosmerta was a sweetheart—she not only let them borrow the cauldron but threw in some extra materials for free.
Of course, Tom had just told her they wanted to practice potions while waiting for Hagrid.
"We only have enough for two batches. No mistakes." Tom took the lead, with Hermione assisting.
These basic ingredients weren't anywhere near what Tom really needed—the potion he had in mind required pricier stuff.
They didn't have any money on them, but that wasn't a problem.
As an almost-full-fledged Potions master, give Tom just a little starter material (enough for one vial), and he could turn it into a pile of Galleons in under an hour.
"What potion is this?" Hermione didn't remember Snape ever teaching them this one.
"Amortentia." (Love potion.)
"What kind of stuff are you even brewing?!" Hermione's face went bright red. She pointed at him accusingly. "You… you're shameless!"
Tom rolled his eyes. "Idiot. Tell me, Hermione—are dark spells always evil?"
"Of course!"
"What if someone used a dark spell to defeat the Dark Lord? Would it be evil then, or good?"
When Hermione went quiet, Tom puffed out his chest triumphantly. "See? Tools aren't good or evil—it's all about what the user does with them!
You've still got a lot to learn. Now, warm up my hands for me—I'm cold."
"Hmph—" Hermione knew she couldn't win the argument. In a huff, she yanked his collar open and slapped her ice-cold hands against his neck.
"You trying to kill me?!"
"Hit me then. Go on, I dare you."
"I don't hit kids."
Tom ignored her and kept brewing the love potion.
For him, a simple potion like this had zero chance of failure.
Plus, with his skill title boost, a cauldron that should've only yielded two vials somehow produced four under Tom's hands!
"This is our startup cash. We need to move fast." Tom blew on his hands and rubbed them together for warmth. "Okay, Hermione—strip."