"Hey! Do you think you're some delicate little flower?! Take it easy!" Tom felt his internal organs screaming in protest.
Hermione Granger was no fragile little lady—maybe she had been, a very long time ago.
But the current Hermione, while maybe not possessing the strength to lift mountains, could absolutely beat the stuffing out of Ron and Harry barehanded without breaking a sweat.
"I said take it easy!"
"I'm scared I'm going to fall off!" Hermione yelled from behind him.
"If you squeeze any tighter, we're both going to die! And I'll die first!"
Hermione fired back instantly, "That's wonderful! I'll have personally slain a terrible menace! I'm sure Mr. Lockhart will write about my heroic deed in his next book!"
The Firebolt carved continuous, sharp S-curves through the air, streaking straight toward the blazing sun.
...
A few minutes later, they both calmed down. Tom stopped flying at breakneck speeds, and Hermione loosened her death grip before she actually managed to snap his spine.
The roaring wind rushed past their ears. To talk to Tom, Hermione had to press her head against his shoulder and shout directly into his ear.
Flying slightly behind them, Hagrid watched the two and nodded in satisfaction.
What a wonderfully close friendship. Truly enviable.
Little did he know, Hermione was currently going off like a machine gun.
"Tom, you are an absolute bastard! A menace! A giant slug-troll!" Hermione's vocabulary of insults was somewhat limited, so she resorted to stringing together the most vicious words she could think of. However, to Tom's ears, it honestly just sounded like a little kid throwing a cute tantrum.
"Do you have any idea how close I was to falling off when you accelerated?! If I fell, you'd be a murderer! Hogwarts would expel you, Misha would be heartbroken, and you owe me a massive apology!"
Tom mumbled softly, "But you were the one complaining I wasn't going fast enough..."
"When did I ever tell you to speed up?!" Hermione wanted to pinch his waist but was terrified he'd suddenly accelerate again, so she settled for thumping him hard on the back twice. "Jerk! Slow down!"
London in winter held a unique, quiet beauty, especially far out from the city center.
The towering trees were blanketed in thick white snow. Faint animal tracks dotted the ground, blending perfectly into the serene environment and washing away all stress.
It was no wonder Hogsmeade Village was the ultimate date spot for young couples. Just the journey there was breathtaking.
If a couple walked hand-in-hand through this snow, tsk, tsk...
"Hey, what are you spacing out for?" Hermione patted Tom's shoulder. "You still haven't told me—what exactly did Professor Snape teach you?"
She was still slightly bitter that she had done all the miserable prep work, only for Tom to swoop in and reap the actual reward.
"A nasty piece of Dark magic." Tom briefly recalled the mechanics of Sectumsempra and explained it to Hermione. "Professor Snape is worried You-Know-Who might come after me. As you know, I'm currently the only student in the school who has officially locked eyes with him and given him a minor beating. So, there's a good chance he might try to retaliate."
Hermione had heard this story several times by now, but it still managed to shock her every single time.
"How exactly did you fight off You-Know-Who? Isn't he supposed to be... terrifyingly powerful?
Tom, at that moment... I mean, were you scared? What did it actually feel like fighting him?"
Like a curious little kitten, Hermione's eyes sparkled with intense fascination.
"Calm down. The current You-Know-Who isn't nearly as terrifying as you think."
Tom was actually quite confident. If he had to face Professor Quirrell right now, he wouldn't guarantee a flawless victory, but fighting to a total standstill would be entirely doable!
"I also wanted to ask..."
Hermione's words died in her throat as she caught sight of the view ahead.
Hogsmeade Village! They were here!
It was nowhere near as grand as Hogwarts, nor did it have the modern technological feel of London. But it was bustling. Wizards holding wands hurried through the snowy streets, chatting and laughing.
With Christmas just around the corner, Hogsmeade was overflowing with warmth. Gladrags Wizardwear was absolutely packed with adorable young witches and wizards.
They held hands, their breaths forming white clouds of mist that floated upward like tiny spirits, rising, falling, and repeating in an endless cycle.
Hermione's eyes practically shone like stars. "Tom, do you see that?! That's practically the biggest wizarding clothing chain in Britain! I read in a book that many noble wizarding families buy their clothes exclusively from there!
The book also said that if you buy a scarf there on Christmas and give it to the person you like, the Cupid of Destiny will bind you together forever, and you'll never be separated!"
"That's a complete scam." Tom didn't hesitate for a second to shatter the store's romantic illusion. "Look over there."
He pointed to the signboard above Gladrags Wizardwear. Sitting on top was a tiny, pink, Cupid-like creature, constantly sprinkling white crystalline dust onto the people below.
"That little thing is basically a walking atmosphere generator. Whenever it sees a couple walking into the store, it secretly drops some 'love powder' on them. Look, look! Their exhaled breath is literally turning into the shape of hearts. How despicable, using cheap tricks like that to artificially boost sales!"
Hermione: "..."
"Tom! Look, Honeydukes Sweetshop!
They don't just sell every kind of candy imaginable; they also have homemade fudge and massive blocks of chocolate! It's the most popular candy store among Hogwarts students, and it's super cheap! You can buy a massive bag of sweets for less than a single Galleon!"
Tom: "The cost to make that massive bag of sweets is probably less than three Sickles. They really know how to milk their customers."
Hermione: "Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop! I heard there are actual little angels inside that bless every couple who goes there on a date for Valentine's Day!"
Tom: "Yeah, I can see the owner's fat, golden little angels right now. They're literally throwing candy at the customers' heads. Good lord, I need to open a few shops like this in the future. They must be raking in an absolute fortune every year."
No matter how enthusiastically Hermione introduced the various shops, the usually brilliant Tom seemed to have entirely lost his brain cells, ruthlessly destroying every single ounce of romantic atmosphere.
To Hermione, the village felt incredibly romantic and filled with an enviable charm. But coming out of Tom's mouth... every store just sounded like a predatory tool for scamming people out of their money.
"Children, time to land. We can't fly any further." Hagrid's flying motorcycle cruised up beside them. He pointed toward the ground, signaling them to descend.
Pushing down on the front of the broom, Tom demonstrated his absolute mastery over the Firebolt. With an incredibly sharp, perfectly executed drift—accompanied by another scream from Hermione—they touched down smoothly on the snow.
The moment their feet hit the ground, the chase began. Hermione chased, Tom dodged. Despite her best efforts, her tiny pink fists failed to land a single hit on him.
"What a wonderfully harmonious pair of friends," Hagrid sighed with a nod. He was never envious of the joy of children; it simply made him reminisce about his own days as a student at Hogwarts.
"Come along, little ones. Follow me."
Hermione finally seized an opening and slapped Tom hard on the back—but Tom's back was solid muscle. The impact merely resulted in Hermione clutching her own stinging palm.
The Three Broomsticks.
This was the pub most frequently visited by Hogwarts students. The warm, soft orange glow from inside provided a much-needed sanctuary from the biting winter cold. The three of them sat around a small circular table. Like a curious baby, Hermione couldn't stop looking around at the unfamiliar, bustling environment.
"A soda water with ice for me, please. What would you little ones like?" Hagrid raised a hand, speaking to the owner, Madam Rosmerta.
Hermione: "Lemonade!"
Tom: "A glass of Butterbeer and a glass of mulled mead, please. Thank you."
Between his appearance and his confident demeanor, Tom didn't look or act like a first-year in the slightest. For a moment, Madam Rosmerta actually assumed he was a regular.
However, her eyes soon shifted to Hermione, and she looked at Hagrid in confusion. "Mr. Rubeus, who is this young lady...?"
"Hermione Granger, a first-year. I brought these two along as my little assistants for an errand today."
Madam Rosmerta instantly understood and smiled.
It was a clever little loophole. The rules stated that students below third year couldn't visit Hogsmeade as tourists. But since they were here as Hagrid's official "assistants," it wasn't a leisure trip.
"Hello, Madam. I'm Tom Riddle. The atmosphere in your pub is truly wonderful. It was freezing outside, but the moment I stepped through your doors, I felt completely warmed up."
Madam Rosmerta smiled warmly. "I'm very glad to hear that, Mr. Riddle. I hope your errand goes smoothly today. I'll go fetch your drinks."
Once the drinks arrived, Hagrid clasped his massive hands together, his expression turning serious. "Tom, Hermione, for the time being, you need to stay right here in the Three Broomsticks until I return. I won't be long—three hours at the absolute most. I expect you to be patient and stay out of trouble.
Once I get back, I can take you on a proper little tour of Hogsmeade. But I must be present, understand? Those are the rules, and I cannot break them."
Hermione looked confused. "Is there nothing you need us to do?"
"Of course there is," Hagrid chuckled. "Before I get back, your job is to fill your stomachs and make sure you don't get hungry or cold. Once I return, your job is to stay happy and thoroughly enjoy walking through the village. Children, this is a gift from Albus—a reward for two incredibly hardworking students."
With that, Hagrid downed his soda water in one massive gulp and left the pub. Before stepping out the door, he had a quick word with Madam Rosmerta, asking her to keep an eye on the two children.
Madam Rosmerta naturally agreed. She had a soft spot for every Hogwarts student and maintained excellent relationships with all the professors.
...
"Tom." Hermione curiously eyed the drink in Tom's hand. "What does Butterbeer taste like? I've heard so many students talk about it, but I've never actually tried it."
Tom licked his lips, carefully savoring the aftertaste. "Hmm... it's hard to describe. A little sweet, a little tart, not much bitterness. Do you want to try some?"
Hermione: "!"
"How about the mulled mead? Want to try that too?"
Hermione: "!!!"