What the hell is that idiot Hagrid doing?!
Snape gritted his teeth, a spark of anger flaring up inside him.
He should've stuck to Tom and Hermione like glue—if it were him, that's exactly what he'd do!
But why did Hagrid just take off alone without telling anyone? This was straight-up breaking school rules!
"I understand," Snape said, taking a deep breath and using Occlumency over and over to calm himself down.
Losing his head to rage wasn't his style. Stay calm, Severus...
"Professor Snape, do you need me to show you the way?"
Snape glanced at him coolly. "You're coming with me. You're going to tell Albus everything you know, from start to finish."
...
Hogsmeade Village.
"T-Tom... aren't we being a little too obvious like this?"
"Obvious? No way." Tom shrugged. "Even Madam Rosmerta didn't recognize us—she even told us to come back next time. The Polyjuice Potion worked perfectly. Sure, there might be a tiny side effect, but that's the price for skipping most of the brewing steps."
Hermione tensed up. "What?"
"Runny tummy. It'll probably hit around this time tomorrow. Not something we need to worry about right now." Tom led the way.
Right now, he wasn't "Tom Riddle"—he was "Misha."
And Hermione wasn't "Hermione Granger" anymore—she was "Cho Chang."
"I've got two questions. First, why aren't we just staying put in the Three Broomsticks? I think it'd be safer there. Madam Rosmerta would protect us."
Tom paused for a second after hearing that. "Okay, who might be coming after us?"
"The Dark Lord."
"And who did you send to take down the Dark Lord?" Tom asked again.
Madam Rosmerta taking on Voldemort? What kind of terrible joke was that?
Besides, Tom knew full well it was way more likely to be Professor Quirrell than Voldemort himself showing up. If Quirrell came and, under the guise of a Hogwarts professor, tried to whisk them away right in front of Madam Rosmerta to finish them off—would they go with him or not?
It was evening now, and Hogsmeade still had some people around. Once night fell, though... they might crash at the pub for the night. Voldemort would be thinking the same thing. Anything could happen on a night like that.
Hermione realized she'd said something dumb. She fake-coughed a couple times to cover the awkwardness.
Somehow, whenever she was with Tom, her usually sharp brain just shut down, and she left everything to him.
"Second question: why do you even have Cho's and Misha's hair?"
The corner of Tom's mouth curved up. "A proper Potions master always carries rare, irreplaceable ingredients you can't buy anywhere. If you need it, I've even got some of Professor Dumbledore's hair. Or his beard, if you want that."
"No! I! Don't!" Hermione huffed in annoyance, stomping ahead of him. "Where are we going now? Straight back to school?"
"Don't do anything risky. We're heading to the Shrieking Shack."
"The Shrieking Shack?!" Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. "Are you insane?!"
The Shrieking Shack—what kind of place was that? An abandoned house in Hogsmeade, the stuff of every wizard kid's nightmares.
Whenever kids wouldn't go to bed at night, their parents would whisper in their ears: "If you don't sleep, the monsters from the Shrieking Shack will come grab you~"
Legend had it the place was haunted—screams echoed from it every night, scaring the daylights out of anyone who heard them.
Hermione had read about it in books, so yeah, she was a little freaked out.
"We could go somewhere better, Tom. You know the Shrieking Shack is terrifying. There are..."
"Yeah, there are ghosts," Tom nodded. "None right now. But once we get there, it'll have two broke ones."
Hermione puffed up her cheeks. "I'm serious, Tom!"
With Cho Chang's face, her pouting just looked kinda cute to Tom—and nothing else.
"Don't worry, relax, it'll be fine—" Tom patted her head, gentler than he'd ever been. "If you run into any of those things, I've got a trick for you: clasp your hands, yell 'Prince Charming, come save me!' and someone will definitely show up."
"Tch." Hermione swatted his hand away and ignored the annoying guy.
She wasn't a little kid anymore—she knew Prince Charming wasn't real. Tom was just saying that to help her chill out.
Even knowing that, she was still mad.
"Why the Shrieking Shack, though?"
Tom answered, "Because it's got ghosts. Think about it—would the Dark Lord really mess with stuff that scares even him?"
Of course, that wasn't the real reason. The screams came from a werewolf transforming inside; his agonized howls got mistaken for something evil, starting all the rumors.
The real reason Tom picked it? It was safe enough.
Voldemort would never guess they'd hide there—who'd think two first-years would hole up in a dangerous spot like that?
"From here on, stick close. We have to make it through tonight—no matter what!"
Professor Snape will definitely find us, Tom thought to himself.
The outside of the Shrieking Shack was creepy as hell—an eerie old house like a vampire's lair. The ancient tree out front looked just like the one from The Conjuring, bare of leaves, with three black crows perched on top.
The crows spotted the two approaching, flapped away, and left a trail of spine-chilling caws behind.
The sandy soil had no footprints; weeds were half a meter tall. Clearly, no one had been here in ages.
But the little stone path to the front door was oddly clear.
Hermione noticed those details and couldn't help shivering, goosebumps popping up all over.
"If you're scared, you can hold my arm. Five Galleons a go—pay up."
"Get lost!"
The first half of Tom's sentence actually made Hermione a little happy—she thought, maybe he's being sweet after all. But the second half? Yeah, this guy's conscience got fed to the dogs.
A flicker of annoyance chased away her fear. She boldly followed Tom inside the Shrieking Shack.
Tom knocked politely on the door. "Mr. Monster, we're coming in~ We're crashing here tonight. If you could bother this cute girl but leave me alone, that'd be great. Thanks!"
"You get lost!"
The inside was... maybe even worse than Harry's cupboard under the stairs.
But for Tom, anywhere he could sleep was good enough.
"You rest a bit. I'm gonna look for something." Tom stepped out of her sight.
"What?" No way Hermione was staying here alone...
She was worried about Tom! Yeah, totally worried about Tom!
Didn't horror movies always have that scene? Someone says they're going to check something out, and then... poof, they're gone.
"I'm not following you because I'm scared," Hermione mumbled awkwardly.
But Tom didn't respond.
Tom remembered clearly: there was a secret passage from Hogwarts to the Shrieking Shack. That meant there had to be one going the other way too!
But the shack wasn't that big.
He searched for half an hour and found nothing suspicious.
Slowly, the sun dipped behind the mountains, its last rays falling on Hermione.
She was exhausted today—ever since learning Voldemort was after her, she hadn't relaxed for a second.
Now that things had settled a bit, she leaned against the wall and dozed off.
Maybe start a fire?
Tom scratched his head and tried the Muggle way—rubbing sticks together.
After ten minutes, he sighed.
"Incendio!"
He'd wanted to do it without magic, but since that wasn't working, fine—magic it is.
There were still some bread slices left from the Three Broomsticks. Tom toasted them over the fire.
Night fell, and the smell of food finally woke Hermione. Her nose twitched, and she opened her eyes.
"Smells amazing! Tom, you can cook too?"
"Of course. There's nothing I can't do." Tom's smile was as reassuring as ever.
Those emerald eyes had some kind of magic— no matter what happened, he always looked completely unfazed.
"Too bad no butter or salad dressing," Tom sighed. "Next time we head out, I'll prep better."
"This... this is plenty. I'm really happy. This is the best dinner I've ever had."
After eating, Hermione hesitantly asked, "Tom, how's your prep going for the Christmas ball? I mean... I mean..."
Her voice got quieter and quieter.
But Tom wasn't looking at her—he was staring outside.
He suddenly pulled her close and shoved her into a corner. "Shh—quiet!"
Ten minutes later...
They heard voices clearly.
"Master, we've searched all of Hogsmeade. No sign of those two kids.
Maybe they've already left the village..."
The other voice was low and raspy, sending chills down Hermione's spine every time it spoke.
"Dig eight feet deep if you have to—find them! They haven't gone back to school yet!
No matter what—" Voldemort took a deep breath. "No matter the cost! We have to eliminate them tonight! Especially that Hermione girl! We can't let anyone keep using her body!"
Feeling Hermione tremble beneath him, Tom patted her head. "Don't be scared."
"Master..."
"Shut up!" Voldemort snapped harshly at Professor Quirrell. "You probably haven't noticed—two little friends got here ahead of us."