Hermione took two sips, then smacked her lips loudly.
"What secret were you talking about?" Tom rested his chin on his hands, looking completely serious.
"I know you won first place in Mr. Lockhart's competition... hic! And then, you sold the prize for Galleons."
That's barely a secret...
Tom was entirely speechless.
So what if you know? What are you gonna do about it?
"So, I hid a lot of Galleons. I earned a bunch of them helping Mr. Hagrid with the animals and organizing potion ingredients in Professor Sprout's greenhouse..."
No wonder I felt like my cut of the money was missing so many Galleons!
Tom nodded. "Where did you hide them?"
"I forgot..." Hermione's face slumped into a miserable little pout. "I was afraid you'd find it if I wrote it down, so I tried to just memorize it. But Professor Snape is so strict every day, and I just... forgot..."
"Whatever, it's probably not that many Galleons anyway." Tom sighed, trying to comfort her.
He was essentially a junior Potions Master now. To be honest, he was hardly ever short on cash.
In all of Hogwarts, there was probably only one person who could claim to be better at potions than him: Severus Snape.
"It was over 300 Galleons."
Tom: "???"
Every ounce of exhaustion instantly vanished. Tom's eyes bugged out.
Over 300 Galleons?!
How much did I even make working all those odd jobs?! Where did you even get 300 Galleons?!
Well, well, well. It seemed Hermione had her own little secrets too.
After dropping that bombshell, Hermione face-planted onto the table.
It took two full hours before Hermione finally woke up.
She rubbed her eyes, her head still spinning.
"If you can't handle your liquor, don't drink. Drink this sobering tea."
Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, Hermione muttered a quick thanks, lowered her head, and downed the tea in a few gulps.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Three hours, thirty-two minutes, and sixteen seconds. Feeling better?"
Hermione was a little surprised. It felt like Tom was being a lot gentler than usual.
She shook her head, trying to remember. All she recalled was taking a sip of Butterbeer and getting dizzy. After that... her mind was completely blank.
"Is Hagrid not back yet?"
"No," Tom said, giving a grave nod. "By my count, he's been gone for over four hours."
When Hagrid left, he promised he'd be back in three hours at the absolute latest.
But he was clearly overdue.
And Tom hadn't received a single message from him.
"You don't think something happened to him, do you?" Hermione's curiosity spiked, instantly pivoting to problem-solving mode. "Should we go look for him?"
To Hermione, an adventure in Hogsmeade didn't sound like a bad idea.
"I'll go ask Madam Rosmerta."
A few minutes later, Tom returned and shook his head.
"What... what do we do?" Hermione started to panic. "Hagrid might actually be in danger! We can't just sit here, Tom!"
"Summon Mira. We need to notify Professor Dumbledore."
"I left Mira locked in her cage! Maybe we can ask Madam Rosmerta to send a message."
"...Tom..." A low, trembling whisper suddenly reached their ears.
Tom and Hermione both looked down. The House-Elf, Dobby, was cowering in the corner, covering his face with his hands.
"Dobby shouldn't say anything... but Dobby has to! Dobby, Dobby... Tom, Hermione, you cannot go back to the school! You absolutely must not return!"
"Do not leave Hogsmeade! Do not leave!"
Dobby's voice was frantic. From his wildly twitching hands and wide, terrified eyes, it was obvious the situation was critical.
Was it Draco's father, or the noseless freak?
Before Tom could figure out the best way to ask, Hermione beat him to it.
"Do you know where Hagrid went? And who is trying to hurt us?"
She desperately grabbed Dobby's arm, genuinely worried about her friend Hagrid.
Seeing Dobby's eyes dart away evasively, Hermione's anxiety skyrocketed. "Tell us!"
"Dobby can't say... but do not send any letters to the school. The letters won't make it through..."
Tom gently patted Hermione's hand, pressing her fingers until she let go of the elf. "Relax, Dobby."
Tom's voice always carried a certain warm, calming confidence. Whenever Dobby heard it, no matter how panicked he was, he instantly felt grounded.
The elf looked up at Tom, staring at his reassuring smile.
"That's right. Take a deep breath. Stay calm. Relax—"
Dobby did as he was told, the frantic look in his eyes slowly fading back to normal.
"Hey there, little Dobby. You just need to nod or shake your head. Did you come find me because of what I told you before?"
Tom had previously instructed Dobby that if Hermione was ever in danger, he had to notify Tom immediately.
Seeing Dobby nod vigorously, Tom let out a soft "Mm."
"If I try to return to the school..." Tom didn't even have to finish the sentence. Dobby was already shaking his head like a rattle drum.
So that was a no-go...
"Dobby, telling me this won't ruin your relationship with your master, right? You know a House-Elf can never betray their master. I don't want to get you in trouble."
Dobby continued shaking his head.
"Alright, understood. Last question. Dobby, do you know where Mr. Hagrid went?"
"Mr. Hagrid is fine! He was just tricked, but... but he's fine! Mr. Hagrid originally sent an owl to you two, but Dobby intercepted the letter... Dobby..."
Seeing Dobby grab his head, preparing to bash it against the table, Tom quickly patted his back. "Easy, little guy. Calm down. I won't ask anymore. Thank you. You made up for your past mistakes with your actions today. I'm very proud of you."
"Did Dobby... did Dobby help Tom?"
"Of course." Tom smiled warmly. "Alright, you don't need to worry about us anymore. Go do what you need to do."
Dobby cast them a few lingering, worried glances. But bound by his identity as a House-Elf, he had no choice but to leave.
Once Dobby vanished, Hermione grabbed Tom's arm and started rattling off a million questions.
"Hey, you need to calm down too!" Tom pressed a hand to her head, lightly ruffling her hair. "Dobby's master is Lucius Malfoy."
Hearing that name, Hermione immediately connected the dots. "It's that bastard!"
When you curse, you just sound like a pouting child, darling...
Tom didn't say it out loud, fighting back a smirk. "If I had to guess, someone approached Hagrid. Maybe they brought up magical creatures. After thinking it over, Hagrid wrote to us telling us to head back to Hogwarts, but Dobby intercepted the letter."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because heading back to the school would put us in danger." Tom pulled Hermione closer, grasping both of her hands tightly. "Listen to me. Lucius isn't the one targeting us this time, understand? We're dealing with something much more dangerous."
Something much more dangerous?
Hermione rarely saw Tom look this serious. She squeezed his hands back, suddenly realizing exactly who he meant.
She started trembling uncontrollably. "Is it..."
Before she could blurt out the name, Tom quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. "Don't say it. You can't say it out loud. But don't worry. He wouldn't dare attack us here in Hogsmeade. There are too many wizards around.
If he tried anything, every wizard here would instantly turn on him. Do you understand?
Hermione, I can't let anything happen to you. Stay right beside me. You're his target, not me. I'll be fine. And I refuse to let you get hurt. We still have to go to the Yule Ball together, and we still have to go visit Misha over the holidays."
Voldemort!
There was no doubt about it. It had to be him.
Feeling the warmth of Tom's hands, Hermione nodded. "What do we do?"
"First, you're going to come with me and act cute."
Hermione: "???"
...
Half an hour later, Tom and Hermione had successfully weaponized their cuteness to borrow a cauldron and some potion ingredients.
Madam Rosmerta was a kind woman. Not only did she let them use her cauldron, but she even gave them the ingredients for free.
Naturally, Tom told her they just wanted to practice brewing potions while waiting for Hagrid to return.
"We only have enough ingredients for two batches. We can't afford any mistakes." Tom took the lead, with Hermione acting as his assistant.
These basic ingredients obviously wouldn't cut it for Tom's actual plan. The potion he needed to brew required much more expensive materials.
They didn't have any money on them, but that wasn't a problem.
As a borderline Potions Master, give Tom a handful of ingredients—just enough for a single vial—and he could turn a massive profit in less than an hour.
"What potion is this?" Hermione searched her memory, but Professor Snape had never taught them anything like this.
"A Love Potion."
"What the hell are you brewing?!" Hermione's face flushed beet red. She pointed an accusing finger at Tom. "You... you have no shame!"
Tom rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Idiot. Hermione, let me ask you: is Dark magic inherently evil?"
"Of course!"
"If someone used Dark magic to defeat You-Know-Who, would you consider that Dark magic evil or good?"
When Hermione fell silent, Tom proudly puffed out his chest. "See? Tools are neither right nor wrong. It all depends on how the user applies them!
You still have a lot to learn. Now, be a dear and warm up my hands. I'm a little cold."
"Hmph—" Knowing she couldn't win the argument, Hermione pettyly yanked his collar open and pressed her freezing hands right against his neck.
"Are you trying to kill me?!"
"Hit me. I dare you."
"I don't beat up children."
Tom ignored Hermione and focused on brewing the Love Potion.
For Tom, failing a potion this basic was an absolute impossibility.
Coupled with his system buffs, a cauldron that should have only yielded two vials miraculously produced four!
"This is our startup capital. We need to hurry." Tom blew into his palms, rubbing them together for warmth. "Hurry up and take your clothes off, Hermione."