read my new story : American Fast & Furious NSFW
The Greenhouse.
Professor Sprout seemed to spawn in the greenhouse at all hours of the day.
She loved fussing over her little plants and flowers, regardless of whether she actually needed them for tomorrow's lesson.
"Tom! My dear boy, I haven't seen you in exactly one week and three hours!
I am so incredibly happy to see you fully recovered. The colds going around these days are just awful, aren't they?"
"Professor Sprout, I missed you so much too. Oh, you look even prettier today than last week. As it happens, I made a new breakthrough this week. Could I trouble you to test this potion for me? It's a supplemental brew that refines and smooths the skin, and it even shrinks pores."
Professor Sprout's eyes instantly lit up. "Child, of course I'd be willing to be your test subject! Anything to help advance your potion-making!"
After handing over the potion, Tom spent some time helping her weed the greenhouse.
Waiting until the atmosphere was just right, Tom finally spoke. "Professor, there's actually a small favor I'd like to ask of you... Or rather, something I need your permission for."
"Of course, little Tom. Ask away."
Tom nodded toward Hermione. "Hermione and I would like to attend the Yule Ball. As you know, the ball doesn't permit students below third-year, let alone first-years like us.
But... we're just so incredibly curious! Professor Sprout, I heard that as long as all the Heads of House agree, it's allowed."
"I grant my permission, absolutely! I am very much looking forward to seeing you at the ball. Give me one moment. I'll write you a letter of permission. Professor Dumbledore will understand me, and he will understand you too."
Less than half an hour later, Tom had a signed letter in hand.
Hermione watched the entire exchange, utterly dumbfounded.
Is... is this right?
She had spent a week in Tom's body, but her interactions with Professor Sprout felt absolutely nothing like this.
"Tom, does Professor Sprout know about us? I mean... you know."
"No, she doesn't," Tom replied, genuinely confused. "Why do you ask?"
"The difference in treatment feels a bit extreme." Hermione's voice was subdued. "I mean, Professor Sprout was always warm to me, but she was never this... this overjoyed! I seriously thought you were her actual son for a second."
Tom laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. Go ask Ron what his status is like at home. You'll see that mothers are rarely this enthusiastic about their own sons."
"Then how do you do it? I mean, how are you so... so likable?"
Tom thought about it seriously for a moment. "It's actually pretty simple. When you meet a lady, you praise her beauty. When you meet a gentleman, you praise his competence. Whatever their best quality is, you praise it. Of course, the prerequisite is that you have to make a good first impression.
Nobody in this world actually hates being complimented. Just look at Professor Snape. He acts like he hates everything, but deep down, he secretly enjoys it."
Hermione thought about this very carefully. Then she asked, "But what if you meet someone who doesn't have any good qualities? Like Malfoy."
Objectively speaking, Draco Malfoy wasn't ugly. In fact, he was quite handsome.
With his striking blonde hair and nearly flawless features, he was already charming enough to turn heads at his current age.
Once he hit his prime, Malfoy would never lack for dates at the Yule Ball.
He truly was very handsome—it was only because Hermione despised him that she had subconsciously labeled him as entirely devoid of merit.
"Praise him for being cute," Tom answered without a second of hesitation. "'Cute' is a universal wildcard. You can use it on guys or girls, and it never feels out of place."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully, immediately putting the lesson into practice. "Tom, you're so cute."
"Thank you for the compliment. It is your absolute privilege to dance with such a cute boy on the Yule Ball floor. I hope you cherish this opportunity."
Hermione: "?"
Why didn't he follow the script?! He was supposed to understand what I really meant!
"I meant..." Hermione started, but then she saw the teasing glint in Tom's eyes.
This bastard definitely knew exactly what I meant! He's just messing with me!
...
With Professor Sprout's approval secured, Professor Flitwick naturally agreed to Tom's request as well.
This was Tom Riddle, after all.
The most outstanding genius of the first year!
Flitwick was the Head of Ravenclaw. When his star pupil made a request, he agreed without a second thought.
Flitwick even asked Tom if his recent classes had been too exhausting, mentioning that since he had just recovered from a cold, he could easily skip the next lesson if he needed to...
The special treatment was practically being spoon-fed to him. However, Tom was not a man to accept handouts, and he politely declined immediately.
He righteously declared that his favorite professor was Flitwick, and therefore, he would never miss a single Charms class!
Out of the four Heads of House, they now had three signatures.
Looking at the envelopes in her hands, Hermione could barely believe her eyes. Snapping out of her daze, she carefully tucked them into her bag. "Should we go find Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall first?"
"Professor McGonagall. If we can't convince her, then Professor Dumbledore's approval won't matter anyway.
But whether or not we convince Professor McGonagall... that's going to depend entirely on you."
Hermione curled her lip. "Tch. I don't even want to go to some stupid ball anyway. I'm going to waste two whole weeks learning how to dance. I'm not as smart as you; I actually need time to study."
"Dancing is also a form of knowledge."
"Not interested—" Hermione dragged out the last syllable, but her feet didn't slow down one bit.
The highest mountain and longest river of Hogwarts' disciplinary system: Minerva McGonagall.
A woman who tolerated absolutely zero nonsense. Currently sitting in her office, she adjusted her glasses. "Hermione, Tom? What can I do for you two today?"
"Professor McGonagall, I want—no, we want to attend the Yule Ball! I know it's against the rules, but... please, Professor McGonagall!"
You can't just ask like that...
Behind her, Tom secretly wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.
But it was very on-brand for Hermione. If the day ever came when she stopped being this incredibly blunt, she would literally have to change her name to Hermione Riddle.
Exactly as expected, Professor McGonagall rejected her.
"Absolutely not. There is no precedent for this at Hogwarts. No matter what you say, the answer is no. First-years are strictly forbidden from attending the Yule Ball!
Your primary focus right now should be..." McGonagall was about to say they should be working hard on practicing their magic. But looking at the two students standing before her, she rubbed her temples. These two were not like the other students.
In her class alone, Tom and Hermione were so far ahead they could lap the rest of the year a dozen times over.
Perhaps they just need to relax?
Maybe the ball could actually be...
No!
Rules were rules. Long-established regulations could not be changed simply because two children worked hard.
"In short, I will absolutely not agree to this. Hermione, Tom, you may return to your dormitories."
...
Leaving Professor McGonagall's office, Hermione stood by the window. Her shoulders gave a slight tremble, and she remained completely silent.
Tom patted her on the shoulder. "Forget it. We'll get another chance when we're third-years."
Tom had only intended to mildly tease Hermione. He had already seen plenty of her hilarious reactions today.
As for the ball itself... Tom actually had zero interest in it. He just wanted to mess with her.
And since Hermione didn't seem to care for it either, there was no point forcing the issue...
Suddenly, Tom froze.
The faint, quiet sunlight outside the window filtered in, falling over Hermione's face like scattered flower petals.
And in that instant, her bright brown eyes had completely dimmed.
Tom really liked Hermione's eyes. They were large and expressive. Whether she was crying or laughing, they always made him feel happy.
Of course, that was only when he made her cry. He found it rather unacceptable when someone else did.
"Do you want to go to the ball?" Tom asked softly.
"No..." Hermione replied, her voice just as quiet.
She lifted her head, using both hands to brush her bangs back behind her ears, forcing a bright smile. "I'm so glad Professor McGonagall said no. I'm thrilled!
I actually thought I was going to have to go to the ball with you. That would have been a complete disaster!
When I'm a third-year, the most handsome wizard in school will definitely come and officially ask me, and he'll wait patiently for my answer.
Anyway, I have to go. I have two giant babies in my dorm waiting for me to bring them food. This whole thing is your fault, so you're coming to the Great Hall with me!"
"Alright."
Tom walked Hermione all the way back to her dormitory. Before stepping inside, she turned and waved at him. "Get some rest. You look worse than Professor Snape.
If you stood next to a troll right now, you'd be the actual troll."
Without waiting for his reply, Hermione ducked into the dormitory.
Her two roommates seemed to never have anything to do. When Hermione walked in, they were still messing around.
"Hermione, do you want to play Exploding Snap with us?" Lavender asked, waving a hand.
"Today? ...Never mind, maybe next time. I'm a little tired."
With that, Hermione collapsed onto her bed.
Lavender and Parvati exchanged a look. One shrugged, while the other gestured with her nose toward Hermione, silently asking if they should find out what was wrong.
The first girl shook her head, signaling they should leave her alone. However, they did stop playing cards—after all, there was a sad little girl in the room.
...
"Tom, what are you doing here?" Dumbledore stood beside Tom, wearing his usual kindly smile. "You look terrible. Perhaps you should get some rest."
"That's not important." Tom shook his head. "Professor, tell me. As a proper man, shouldn't one try to fulfill a friend's tiny little wish?"
"Well, if your friend's wish is positive and doesn't negatively impact those around her, I imagine fulfilling it would make her very happy."
"Oh, I understand now. Professor Dumbledore, do you happen to have a moment? I'd like to ask you for a favor."