"But… didn't you say you weren't picking any electives?" Hermione had a sinking feeling she was about to suffer.
She actually had expectations.
After rushing through a full day of classes, she'd pictured a nice hot bath, a glass of warm milk, then curling up in bed with her favorite extra reading—Magical Me and the Werewolf.
One of Lockhart's books.
She loved that routine.
But she knew exactly what Tom meant by "busy."
When Tom said he had no time, it probably meant dinner was two burgers wolfed down in five minutes, then collapsing into bed with zero energy left for anything else.
That was Tom's version of "busy."
"You just said you were going to get cozy with the professors, so does that mean…" Hermione suddenly grabbed his shoulders. "Tom, tell me—how many times a week do I have to see Snape?"
"Four hours minimum."
"Per week?"
"Per day." Tom corrected her, the corner of his mouth curling into a smug grin. Sunlight poured over him, lighting up that bright, sunny smile in full.
Hermione felt the world go gray.
The tall branches above cast long shadows that swallowed her whole. She kept muttering the same word under her breath.
"Every day… every day… every day…"
Four hours with Snape every single day?
She was going to die. She was actually going to die.
"Tom, no!" She clutched his arm. "We can't do that. I'm begging you!"
It was the first time Hermione had ever lowered her head to him.
"Maybe we can just be honest with Professor Snape. You'd agree to that, right?"
"No, I'd refuse." Tom gently pushed her hands away. "Hermione, have you thought about what happens if Snape finds out? What about the other professors? Are you going to tell them too?
Once the whole staff knows, how are we supposed to attend classes? We'd become the school's biggest freaks. The boys would know their roommate turns into a girl every week.
And your roommates would hate me. Worst case… we might end up sharing a dorm."
"Then I'd rather take Snape's Potions lessons." Hermione answered without hesitation, eyes suddenly steely.
"?"
"Living with me is that bad?" Tom gritted his teeth, annoyed.
"If you watched me walk into the bathroom, what would you be thinking?" Hermione's voice dropped to a whisper, cheeks flushing pink.
She absolutely refused to picture it.
If they shared a dorm and swapped bodies… she'd have to watch Tom controlling her body walk into the bathroom, then come out with wet hair and a fresh change of clothes.
She'd want to die.
Tom only hesitated for half a second. "We could shower together. I could even teach you how boys wash properly."
"Get lost!" Hermione shoved him hard. "Lunchtime's here. Go! Eat! Now!"
Tom started to walk away, then turned back. "Oh right, Hermione—you should start preparing."
"Preparing?"
"Yeah. The Charms homework. Please. You wouldn't want kind Professor Flitwick to punish you next week for not turning anything in, right?"
Hermione: "???"
"Bastard!"
Her curse faded into the crowd.
Only after Tom left did Ron and Harry dare approach.
Hermione was squatting under a tree, hugging her knees. She didn't look happy.
"Hermione?" Ron asked, confused. "What did you and Tom talk about? Your face is red as a baboon's backside. I thought I saw you crying."
"I wasn't crying!" Hermione snapped. "And your hair is redder than any baboon's backside!"
Ron scratched his head sheepishly. "Harry, did I say something wrong?"
"Huh?" Harry snapped out of it—he'd been replaying the last moment between Hermione and Tom.
It really did look suspicious.
Hermione grabbing Tom's hand, suddenly tearing up like she was begging him, then blushing bright red in under a minute…
Harry had never been this curious about what they'd said.
Hermione wiped her face. "We should go eat."
After lunch—no, after her nap—she was going straight to Professor McGonagall.
Tom had made her this miserable. She wasn't letting him off easy!
---
"Tom!" Hagrid threw his massive arms wide and pulled him into a crushing hug. "Didn't expect to see you again today! Is this… for me?"
"Yeah. I was worried you didn't eat enough at lunch again."
"Good lad, good lad." Hagrid's beard trembled with emotion.
"Hagrid, actually I wanted to ask a favor…"
Tom coughed, waiting until Hagrid was busy eating. "I'm really interested in magical creatures—griffins, everything. I heard you're amazing with them. Could you teach me?"
Hagrid blinked, then grinned. "Of course!"
"I don't just want to identify them. I want to go deeper—like breeding. I want to raise one myself, like Professor Dumbledore's Fawkes."
Fawkes was Dumbledore's phoenix.
Hagrid burst out laughing. "Lad, that's not exactly a common pet. Maybe start with something simpler. Let me think… ah, Ravenclaw's got no afternoon classes today. Come with me—we've got two full hours. Plenty of time. Just let me finish this burger first."
Two hours felt short to Tom.
He knew exactly where Hagrid was taking him—the Leaky Cauldron.
Hagrid was a regular. The moment he sat down, two cloaked strangers slid over offering magical eggs.
Later, Hagrid taught Tom how to care for magical creatures.
He bought a rainbow-scaled giant chicken egg—supposedly from Spain, with ancient dragon blood. Adults could reach two meters tall.
Hagrid got so excited he bought the egg on the spot.
The shell shimmered with iridescent scales. While polishing it, Hagrid explained, "Read about these in an old book. They eat a ton, grow fast. Once they're full-grown they can even fight alongside a wizard—but that takes years.
Tom, you try. Hatching success rate is low, but even if it fails it's fine. First you need to prepare…"
Tom memorized every word. By the time they finished it was already afternoon and his robes smelled faintly of poultry.
He glanced back at Hogwarts. Afternoon classes had just started; students were hurrying between buildings.
Tom needed a shower to wash off the animal smell, then see if Professor Sprout had time.
---
"Professor McGonagall…" Hermione knocked timidly and peeked inside.
Even in her office, McGonagall still wore that wide-brimmed hat. Her expression was as strict as ever.
"Hermione?" McGonagall relaxed a little when she saw her.
She liked hardworking students. She'd heard Hermione was taking fifteen classes this term—five core, ten electives.
"Child, what brings you here?" McGonagall set down her quill. "Come in, have a seat. I see that eager look in your eyes. You want…"
Hermione clenched her fists, thought hard, then blurted, "Professor McGonagall, I want to improve!"
"Improve?" McGonagall's brows furrowed. "Child, perhaps you're overtired. You should have a glass of milk, rest a little, then go to your afternoon classes."
"No, Professor, I'm perfectly clear-headed."
Hermione's cheeks were pink.
This was the first time she'd ever straight-up asked a professor for extra lessons.
But she had no choice—Tom was too awful!
It looked like he'd already won Snape over. In the future he'd definitely use that to crush her!
Hermione refused to let that happen. After thinking it over for days, she'd decided to come to McGonagall.
McGonagall was Gryffindor's Head of House and had always been kind to her. Her reputation among students was excellent.
But that wasn't the main reason.
The real reason… Hermione wanted to master Transfiguration better than anyone—including McGonagall herself.
Then, one day, if that bastard Tom ever bullied her again, she'd whip out her wand and turn him into a mouse!
No—mice were cute. Tom didn't deserve cute.
She'd turn him into a disgusting rat, then get a white cat and lock them in a room together.
Just imagining it gave her strength.
After hearing Hermione's request, McGonagall looked genuinely moved.
"Hermione, perhaps you should tell me why you want this so badly.
You're already one of the top first-years. Everyone knows you won Lockhart's competition in Diagon Alley. You don't need to push yourself this hard. You have plenty of time ahead. You should enjoy your time at Hogwarts."
"Professor McGonagall, I have a reason I must study. I have to become a Transfiguration Master!"
That was Hermione's answer.
McGonagall was silent for a long time. She picked up her quill, set it down again, then finally spoke.
"I'll be in my office three hours before curfew. But on weekends you must rest properly or you'll wear yourself out. Now, child, you should head to your next class."
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall!" Hermione bowed deeply, then left the office practically glowing.
Success!
One day it would happen!
She would become the powerful Transfiguration Master she imagined!
Then turn Tom into a little rat!
Hermione was already daydreaming about him begging for mercy.
---
"Achoo!"
Tom sneezed and rubbed his nose.
"Tom, are you catching a cold?" Professor Sprout looked more worried than if she'd caught one herself.
"Nope." Tom waved it off.
He drank Snape's potions like milk every day. No way he'd randomly catch a cold.
Someone must be bad-mouthing me behind my back.
Hermione?
Next time I'll spank her butt hard!
Or… wait until we swap and spank my own butt right in front of her!
Just thinking about it was exciting.
"Professor Sprout, shall we continue?"
"Wait a moment, Tom." Sprout hurried back to her office on her slightly stiff legs and returned with a thick coat, draping it over his shoulders.
"I hope you don't mind an old lady's scent on it."
Tom smiled and shook his head. "Not at all, Professor Sprout. You're the most beautiful lady I've ever met. Thank you."
Perfect. I'm officially Sprout's favorite student now!
Add in Snape's personal guidance…
Herbology and Potions will hit max level sooner or later!
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