This was Cho Chang's first real visit to Hogsmeade.
Or, more accurately, her first time truly stepping into the wizarding world.
"Oh my gosh, Hermione, look! There's a giant Christmas tree—bigger than the one at school!" Cho stretched both arms wide, mimicking the tree's size with an exaggerated pose. "I never knew there were places like this outside… Is that Madam Lodal?"
Madam Lodal—the famous witch seamstress whose robes weren't just beautiful; they had actual magical effects.
Like Dumbledore's nightcap: wear it and you'd sleep like a baby no matter how hard the wind howled or thunder roared.
"Hermione, over here, over here! Come on!"
Cho seemed like a completely different person. She grabbed Hermione's hand and practically dragged her toward Madam Lodal's shop.
Madam Lodal wasn't young anymore. She wore no flashy wizarding accessories—just simple, practical clothes that made her look like an ordinary Muggle.
But the silver brooch on her chest and the elegant "Lodal" embroidery made her identity unmistakable at a glance.
Madam Lodal rarely saw young witches this excited to meet her. The corners of her mouth lifted in a gentle smile. "Two young witches from Hogwarts?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Cho's eyes sparkled. "I love the clothes you make—especially that colour-changing robe that never needs washing! It's so cool, and I heard it can even block most spells!"
Madam Lodal chuckled and shook her head. "Child, that's just a rumour. It's not that powerful. If it could truly block most magic, the Ministry would have carted me off long ago. Hahaha. Please, sit down, both of you."
Cho suddenly felt shy. Quite a few witches and wizards in the shop were now staring at them.
Cho was the soft, sweet, fragrant kind of girl—adorable in every way.
Tom watched her. Her cheeks were flushed pink, like winter tomatoes…
Tom mentally slapped himself. Ever since he'd crossed into the wizarding world, his vocabulary had somehow shrunk.
"Oh?" Madam Lodal's gaze swept over Tom and lingered on his face for a long moment. "What a lovely, pretty little one. I adore your eyes. Your hair is so curly—every morning it must look like a mountain goat's fleece, yes?"
She laughed softly. "Perhaps you need a nightcap too. Hmm… Dumbledore's style would suit you, but it's not very cute. Let me see…"
She rummaged in her enchanted pocket, then sighed with regret. "Sorry, I've run out of curly-goat wool. England doesn't seem to sell it anymore."
Not wanting to see Tom disappointed, she quickly added, "But I can make you a scarf. It'll keep you warm in winter and even waterproof—so you can wear it in the bath if you want."
Tom coughed twice. "No need, Madam Lodal. I'd feel bad. But you mentioned curly goats—they used to live in the Forbidden Forest. I think I've seen them there."
Madam Lodal nodded. "They did, once. But one day a terrible creature appeared in the forest and drank unicorn blood. Curly goats are clever beasts. They migrated. You might find a few in the distant mountains, but their numbers are tiny now."
She sighed, then looked apologetically at Cho. "I'm sorry to you as well, child. If—if only we had curly-goat horns and wool, I could make you something truly special."
Cho waved her hands frantically. "No, no, I don't need anything! Thank you anyway, Madam Lodal. Hermione, we should go."
Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Madam Lodal, do you still have any curly-goat wool left? Even just one strand would do."
"I do. What would you use it for?"
She pulled out a single curved white hair.
Curly-goat wool was straight while still on the animal—even though the creatures spent their days rolling in mud or crashing through bushes, they were special magical beasts.
Tom accepted the fine white strand and politely said goodbye.
"Hermione, what do you need that for?"
"Hmm… Senior, maybe you forgot—I have a tiny bit of talent in Potions."
Exactly how much talent? Roughly on the level of a Potions Master.
Oh wait, I am a Potions Master. Never mind.
"Come on, let me show you something."
Inside the familiar Three Broomsticks, Tom took out a small vial of potion and sprinkled the white hair into it.
"Bang—"
Green smoke exploded, filling both their faces.
"What is this?" Cho pinched her nose and waved the smoke away. "Cough, cough… it's a bit strong…"
"You'll get used to it, Senior. Please drink."
Cho blinked at him, pointing at her own nose. "Me… drink it?"
"Yes, but don't finish it. Leave half for me. Or should I demonstrate first?"
Tom downed half the vial in one go. "Don't worry, I added honey. It's sweet, no bitterness, and very good for the body."
"Good for the body?"
Tom nodded. "Honey and milk too. So Senior can have a pair of…"
He didn't finish the sentence. His eyes drifted pointedly to a certain part of Cho's figure.
"You're the one who needs more!" Cho's face turned scarlet as she snatched the vial. She stared at the tiny drop of liquid still clinging to the rim—was that Tom's saliva or just potion residue?
It smelled faintly sweet. She closed her eyes and drank the rest.
Her vision suddenly lit up.
Glowing green threads stretched out in every direction, spreading from right in front of them into the distance.
The green trail seemed alive, leading straight toward a distant mountain range.
"Tracking potion. Pretty neat, right?" Tom gave a thumbs-up. "So, we should get going. Curly goats are smart—their intelligence is close to human—but getting their wool is still easy. You just have to talk to them nicely."
Cho froze. "We… leave? Now?"
"Yes. We—you, Cho Chang, and me, Hermione Granger. This is your Christmas present."
Tom actually left half the sentence unsaid.
This wasn't just Cho's Christmas present.
It was Hermione's too.
That little bookworm never said it out loud, but after swapping bodies once a week, Tom had figured it out.
Hermione must be so frustrated.
That bushy hair was way too long and a total pain to maintain.
This tiny gift was his way of rewarding her for all the hard work she put into keeping it looking decent.