Read my new story :
American Fast & Furious NSFW
America's #1 Scumbag NSFW
"What the hell are you talking about?! Shameless! Despicable! Jerk! Disgusting! Pig! Why hasn't Merlin—"
"I'm freezing! Have you seriously not noticed you're wrapped in my coat?! Who do you think tucked you in while you were sleeping?! Pfft!" Tom ruthlessly cut her off.
"..."
Hermione actually hadn't noticed. No wonder she had slept so comfortably.
"It smells terrible. Who wants it anyway? Here."
"Stay here. Wait until I get back." Tom threw the coat over his shoulders and hurried to the door, pausing just before stepping out. "Do not leave this pub, understand?!
No matter who you see, do not make a sound. Even if it's me. We have no idea what kind of dirty tricks You-Know-Who has up his sleeve. Whatever happens, you stay hidden. Even if I end up in a fight to the death with him right outside that door, and I die out there, you do not come out!"
"Got it... If you actually die, Misha and I will come visit your grave. Everyone will probably be thrilled to see the back of such a jerk!" Hermione snapped back. But deep down, she knew Tom wouldn't die.
He was incredibly strong. If he could survive running into You-Know-Who in the Forbidden Forest and walk away, there was no way he'd die here.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
...
With Christmas approaching, and the afternoon settling in—Hermione had slept the entire day away—Hogsmeade was bustling with adult wizards. Tom zeroed in on the married ones, specifically targeting those with families.
Tom had once read something in a magical psychology book.
What was the best way to attract the opposite sex?
It wasn't by improving yourself, nor was it by having flawless looks—Tom had incredibly flawless looks, and he hadn't noticed swarms of girls throwing themselves at him.
Jokes aside, the absolute best way to attract someone was by using the potion Tom had just brewed!
Forget the opposite sex; this stuff would work on a troll!
It would even work on a troll of the same gender!
But, naturally, Tom wasn't going to sell this to inherently evil Dark wizards. His target demographic was...
Perfect!
"Excuse me, sir, you must be newly married, right?" Tom approached a wizard in his early twenties. The man had striking blond hair—a sign of pure wizarding blood, meaning he likely wasn't strapped for cash.
He wore a wedding ring on his ring finger, and the band hadn't warped or tarnished yet, which told Tom he was a very recent newlywed.
The blond wizard blinked, only just noticing the pitiful-looking child staring up at him.
"Yes, Merlin bless us. I have a beautiful, gentle wife. She treats me wonderfully, she loves me, and I love her very much.
Can I help you, little guy?"
Tom pulled out his newly brewed potions. "I'm a student at Hogwarts. Christmas is coming up, and I really want to buy a gift for my girlfriend, but... well, it's incredibly hard to earn Galleons at my age.
Luckily, my Potions grades are excellent. Would you happen to need this?"
The blond wizard noticed what Tom was holding, and his face instantly hardened. "Perhaps I should write a letter to Professor Snape! How dare you sell something like this?!"
"I wouldn't mind if you did, sir. Actually, instead of writing, you could go straight to Hogwarts and tell Professor Snape in person. But I'm not a Dark wizard. I just need the money, and I promise I won't sell these to anyone with malicious intentions." Tom dialed up the pitiful, innocent act. "Could you please buy these potions, and then report me to Professor Snape? I'm completely willing to serve the detention for her."
The blond wizard stared coldly at Tom.
He had no idea what was going through this kid's head.
Anyone else would have bolted the second he mentioned Snape's name, but this boy hadn't flinched.
Plus, his attitude was incredibly sincere. He genuinely didn't seem like a Dark wizard in training, nor did he act like those typical Slytherin brats...
"How much?"
"Ten Galleons a vial. Or, if it's possible, sir, could I trade all of these potions for some specific ingredients?" Tom handed him a piece of paper.
"Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass, powdered horn of a Bicorn, and shredded skin of a Boomslang?" The blond wizard stared at the list, falling silent for a long moment.
These weren't exactly common ingredients.
But a Bicorn horn wasn't used in Dark magic. Just what part of this kid's story was actually the truth?
Did he really just want to buy his girlfriend a gift, or was he specifically after these ingredients?
"I can get these for you," the young blond man sighed. "But on one condition: I am absolutely reporting this to Professor Snape. Once you've served your detention, you can go back to dating your girlfriend."
"Thank you, sir."
Business is business! The young blond man thought to himself. The boy's attitude was sincere enough, but as a former Gryffindor, he couldn't just stand by and watch a child go down the wrong path.
"What's your name?"
"Hermione Granger, Gryffindor. But my nickname is the Half-Blood Prince."
The blond young man gestured for Tom to follow. "Come with me."
Trailing behind him, Tom gripped his wand tightly beneath his robes.
The ingredients he had asked for were the exact components of a very specific brew: Polyjuice Potion!
If Tom had thought to use Polyjuice Potion, there was a very high chance Voldemort had thought of it too!
If the man walking in front of him was an imposter, Tom was ready to instantly decapitate him with a Sectumsempra!
Fortunately, the man wasn't Voldemort in disguise, and he genuinely did have a beautiful wife.
After laying on the flattery thick, Tom got his ingredients and personally watched the man tie a letter to an owl and send it off to Hogwarts.
"Thank you, sir." Tom bowed deeply and left with the materials, making sure to compliment both the man and his wife one last time before slipping away.
This only left the blond wizard feeling even more bewildered.
He couldn't shake a very strange, nagging feeling.
It felt like every single step he had taken had been perfectly orchestrated by this little wizard.
Especially when he wrote the letter to Professor Snape—the kid had looked genuinely thrilled.
"I need to go to Hogwarts."
"Didn't you just send the owl out?" his wife asked, confused by her husband's sudden need to overcomplicate things.
"I want to find out exactly what kind of person this kid is. I'll be back tonight, it won't take long. Wait for me at home, Alice." The blond wizard kissed his new bride on the cheek and left the house.
...
"I'm back!" Tom pushed the door open to find Hermione crouching by the cauldron, warming her hands over the flames.
"What took you so long?" Hermione pouted, complaining.
In reality, Tom hadn't been gone for very long, but being left completely alone in the room had made Hermione feel isolated. She had wanted someone to talk to, but only had the crackling of the fire to keep her company.
"Well, the guy insisted on writing a letter to Professor Snape to get me detention. It held me up a bit."
"Isn't that really bad?!" Hermione gasped in shock.
"Not at all. I gave them your name. Hermione Granger. Thank you, Hermione. You truly are my best friend. Once you're in detention, I'll make sure to drop by and visit you."
"???"
Hermione jumped up and started raining punches onto Tom's chest, but seeing his completely unfazed expression only made her quietly fume even more.
"Hermione, do you have anyone you absolutely hate?" Tom asked as he began portioning out the ingredients.
Obviously, it was a rhetorical question.
"I hate you the most!"
Brewing Polyjuice Potion was no easy feat. It was an incredibly advanced potion. A perfect batch required at least an entire month to brew.
But the brilliant Tom Riddle always found a shortcut. He had made a few minor adjustments to the recipe, cutting the brewing time down to just two hours. Naturally, the effects wouldn't be as flawless as a perfect batch, but it would be enough.
Two hours later.
"Drink this. This potion will only maintain the transformation for five hours. I've prepared exactly four vials, which is more than enough to get us through tonight." Tom handed a vial to Hermione. "I already added the hair. Once the transformation is complete, make sure you don't make any weird noises."
Hermione took the potion. "Right now?"
"Right now."
...
Hogwarts.
Professor Snape was currently enjoying the afternoon sun.
He was highly curious as to why that insufferable brat, Tom, still hadn't returned!
To neglect his daily practice for a moment of fleeting amusement? What a foolish boy!
Knock, knock, knock— Snape's peaceful rest was suddenly interrupted.
Judging by the knock alone, he knew it wasn't Tom.
For whatever obnoxious reason, that brat always knocked with one long rap followed by three short ones, as if formally announcing his grand arrival. Snape's official assessment of the habit: Inufferable show-off!
He originally had no intention of answering, but after the person stood there knocking for a solid minute, Snape finally swung the door open.
"Professor Snape. It's been quite a while. I'm glad to see you looking as healthy as ever."
"Saul? If I recall correctly, you graduated three years ago."
"Yes, sir." The blond wizard bowed respectfully. "I'm an Auror now. I owe a great deal of that to your guidance."
Snape waved a hand impatiently. "That has nothing to do with me."
"Professor Snape, please take a look at this. A young wizard sold this to me while I was on my honeymoon in Hogsmeade."
Snape cast a sweeping glance over the vial of potion and let out a cold sneer. "If I ever find out..."
He suddenly cut himself off.
This familiar brewing technique...
Every Potions Master had their own unique, signature brewing style. He was no exception, and neither was Tom!
For certain advanced potions, one could identify the brewer simply by looking at the technique, color, smell, or even the way it was bottled.
"The boy who sold you this potion. Where is he?!" Snape's eyes turned instantly freezing cold.
Saul quickly answered, "He was a child with jade-green eyes. When I told him I was going to report him to you, he didn't seem afraid in the slightest. He told me his name was Hermione Granger, and that his nickname was...
The Half-Blood Prince."
"Just him?" Snape's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Was he entirely alone? Did you happen to see Rubeus?"
"Yes, sir. He was completely alone. Mr. Hagrid... I am absolutely certain he was not there."