Tommy suddenly thrust out his arm with the wand toward Hermione and shouted:
"Expelliarmus!"
Hermione screamed and instinctively threw up her hand, as if trying to shield herself from the spell, but it was already too late. Her wand flew from her fingers, struck the wall, and clattered into a distant corner. She froze, disarmed and stunned, staring tensely at Tommy.
He stepped forward slowly, his wand aimed straight at her chest. Triumph blazed in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth quivered with a barely restrained, self-satisfied smile. He was savoring the moment, drinking it in to the very last drop.
"That's it, Hermione…" he said hoarsely, with a hint of surprise in his voice, as if he still couldn't believe the victory had come so easily. "Do you want to say anything before the end? Confess your sins?"
Hermione stepped back instinctively, only to bump into the cold wall.
"Tommy… please… don't kill me…" she said in a pleading voice.
"Out of the question, filthy witch!" Tommy declared, trying to make his voice sound grim and resolute. "I've chased you too long to let you go now. And your crimes… they're too great. Today is your last day. Accept your fate!"
Hermione looked at him with desperate pleading, her voice barely audible:
"I… I'll do anything you want… Tommy, do you want money? I can get you as much as you want. Or… do you want another dog? A Labrador, like Blecko! Just don't kill me!"
Tommy let out a harsh laugh, dripping with contempt. His eyes flashed with anger.
"You think I can be bought? Paladins of Light are not for sale, witch! We stand guard over good and justice!" He straightened, his gaze proud and hard on his victim. "And we will never let the likes of you destroy our world."
His face twisted again with rage, as if Hermione's very offer had degraded him. He slashed his wand through the air and shouted with a raw edge in his voice:
"DIE!"
Hermione dropped to the floor as if cut down. Her arms sprawled wide, her head fell limply to the side, and her eyes shut. She lay utterly still… completely dead…
But Tommy didn't lower his wand. He was a seasoned Paladin of Light. He stepped forward carefully, eyes fixed on the motionless body. Then he nudged Hermione's limp hand with the tip of his boot, and only after making sure she didn't move did he straighten. At last his face took on a solemn look.
"This is the fate of anyone who dares disturb the peace of our people!" he said slowly and loudly. "We protect the world from evil! We…"
"Achoo!" a loud sneeze suddenly broke the solemn moment.
Tommy froze, his eyes back on Hermione. She stirred, pushed herself up on her elbows, and sneezed again. Then, with a snort, she sat up and shook her head.
"Sorry, Tommy, for not letting you finish. But it's too dusty in here — we'll have to clean up," Hermione said, getting to her feet and brushing off her clothes.
"It's fine, no problem," Tommy answered with a broad grin. "We were done anyway. I won again!"
He lifted his head with a proud look and added, his voice full of excitement:
"But next time I'm the villain. I've already thought up how I'll fight the Warrior of Light! And I'll take you down again for sure!"
Hermione winced slightly, her eyes shifting aside for a moment. She was starting to get tired of Tommy always sticking a 'Paladin of Light' or 'Warrior of Light' into his stories. It reminded her too much of the League of Light — that sinister magical organization she had faced in the real world. If Tommy knew what that name really carried with it, he'd probably be more careful about using the word 'Light' for his so-called heroes.
But how could he know? She let out a quiet sigh and nodded:
"Fine, Tommy. Let's see what you come up with next time."
After coming home, Hermione often wanted to share her adventures and her life in the magical world with her friend Tommy. But she knew perfectly well it was strictly forbidden. The Statute of International Secrecy, the Ministry of Magic's constant watch… all that kept her from such a reckless step. Still, no matter how she turned it over in her mind, she wanted badly to tell her friend everything, to boast of her achievements in the world of magic…
And then, at one point, a striking idea came to her: you could play at magic! From their very next meeting, she began imagining with excitement how great it would be to cast spells, what adventures they could have. Since Hermione's 'fantasies' were vivid and detailed, Tommy quickly caught on to the idea. At first, he only listened to her stories, but soon he joined in the game with real enthusiasm.
And that's how it all began. Now, whenever they met, they invented stories about wizards, evil witches, and heroic deeds. They acted out scenes where Tommy fought unknown dark forces, and Hermione was sometimes his ally, sometimes his opponent, depending on her mood.
Hermione, of course, often told him real things from the magical world — about spells, magical creatures, even some of the Hogwarts professors. Tommy listened with admiration, sometimes asking questions, sometimes laughing and calling her imagination 'way too wild, something that couldn't exist even in a made-up world of magic.'
And sometimes he pushed back. This happened most often when Hermione, forgetting herself, started correcting him for mispronouncing a spell or making the wrong wand movement.
"Hermione, cut it out!" he said once. "I know how to do spells myself! Why do you think you can do magic better than me?"
Hermione just smiled. She usually didn't press the point, since Tommy didn't have to take real exams later. And Tommy, meanwhile, threw himself into making up his own spells and adventures. Little by little he became just as much of an 'expert' on magic in their games as Hermione. He practically lived for those games.
This time too, when they finished playing, Tommy flopped onto Hermione's bed and let out a heavy sigh:
"Shame it's all pretend," he muttered, twirling a pencil between his fingers that served him as a wand. Then he waved it through the air, as if casting one last spell.
Hermione, sitting next to him, squinted slyly and asked with a faint smile:
"Too bad? You mean you really wanted to kill me?"
Tommy jumped at once, his ears turning red, and started waving his hands around.
"What? No! Of course not! Come on, Hermione!" he blurted out. "I… I meant… that magic… well…" he stumbled, searching for words, "too bad it's pretend. Just think how great it would be to really do magic!"
Hermione could hardly keep from laughing as she watched his awkwardness and his genuine wish. She put on a serious face, as if thinking, and with a nod said quietly:
"Yes, it really is a shame."
Her voice was so convincing that Tommy didn't notice the sly, barely noticeable smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Tommy stared dreamily out the window, watching the clouds drift slowly across the sky. Suddenly he jerked upright, his eyes wide, his hand shooting toward the windowsill.
"Did you see that?!" he shouted, turning to Hermione.
She flinched at his outburst, her eyes snapping to the window. For a moment her face showed fear, but when she looked at the sill she saw nothing unusual.
"What is it, Tommy?" she asked warily, trying to figure out what had startled him.
"That plant! That flower! Did you see it?! It… it moved!" Tommy, breathless with excitement, pointed at the pot with the bright orange blossom.
He was pointing at the Fiery Lotus — a rare magical plant, the jewel of Hermione's collection. She often used it in her Potions experiments, since Fiery Lotus was almost essential for brewing mixtures linked to fire, warmth, or inflicting burns on enemies. Its petals also went into elixirs that could stir up burning interest, or even passion, for some pursuit.
"Moved?" Hermione repeated, pretending to be surprised, and then gave a loud, fake laugh. But Tommy, caught up in watching the flower, didn't notice the false note in her laughter.
"Tommy, you just imagined it!" she said, still smiling. "You've probably played too much at wizards and paladins, and now you're starting to see things!"
In fact, Hermione was in no mood to laugh. Her thoughts were racing, searching for a way to distract Tommy from the flower. The fact was, domesticated magical plants quickly got used to their owners giving in to their 'whims.' The main thing for them was to get attention. And Fiery Lotus was especially known for its persistence. If it had started moving, it meant something was wrong, and it wouldn't stop until it got what it wanted.
"No, I swear!" Tommy cried, jumping up and stabbing his finger at the flower. "I saw it with my own eyes! That bright flower turned toward me, and… and I even thought a tiny tongue of flame shot out of it! I'm not making this up! Honest!"
Hermione just gave an understanding smile, hiding her worry. She slowly stepped up to Tommy, put herself between him and the windowsill, blocking the plant with her body, and spoke in a soft, steady voice:
"All right, Tommy, I think that's enough magic for today. Come on, I'll get you some tea, and you can eat a couple of sandwiches. You need to calm down — or else who knows, maybe a manticore will attack you on the way home!" and with a slight grin, she gently pushed Tommy toward the door.
"But…" Tommy kept looking back at the windowsill, as if hoping the flower would give another sign. "I really saw it, Hermione. It was a tongue of flame, I'm sure of it now!"
"Yeah, yeah, of course," she answered with a laugh, pushing him out of the room a bit more firmly. "A tongue of flame, a phoenix's tail, a dragon's claw… whatever you want! Come on, sit down in the chair," she pointed to the big comfortable armchair in the living room that her father usually used.
The chair was placed so Tommy's eyes wouldn't fall on the living room windows, where two more magical plants stood. Hermione knew nothing good would come if he noticed something strange again.
While Hermione made the tea, she tried to distract Tommy with light talk about neutral things — lessons, the weather, and funny stories from school. But her thoughts kept coming back to the Fiery Lotus on the windowsill. She knew she couldn't waste time and needed to deal with it, but she also had to calm Tommy's suspicions.
When the tea and sandwiches were ready, Hermione quietly pulled a small vial of Persuasion Potion from her pocket. Glancing around cautiously, she quickly poured it into Tommy's cup, gave it a quick stir with a spoon, and smiled to herself: 'I hope you'll forgive me, Tommy, but this is better for both of us.'
"Eat, dreamer!" she said brightly, handing her friend the tea and sandwiches.
Tommy, noticing nothing strange, grabbed a sandwich and bit into it hungrily, washing it down with tea.
"Listen, Hermione, I know it sounds unbelievable," he went back to the flower. "But I really saw that plant move. I thought it through while I was sitting here waiting for tea. I didn't imagine it."
Hermione sat across from him, folded her hands, and gave him a kind, slightly condescending smile, full of calm and confidence.
"Tommy, think about it," she began softly, as if pointing out something obvious. "Plants can't move on their own — and tongues of flame bursting from them? They'd just burn up, wouldn't they?"
Tommy frowned, about to object. He even opened his mouth but then stopped. His eyes went a little unfocused, and a shadow of doubt crossed his face. Then he silently took another sip of tea, turning Hermione's words over.
"Well… actually, yeah," he said at last, slowly, lowering his eyes to the cup. "They'd burn up…" Then he looked back at Hermione, his voice already unsure. "So, you really think I just imagined it?"
Hermione leaned a bit closer.
"Of course, Tommy. That happens when you get too caught up in a game. You were in your fantasy of the magic world, so it seemed like the flower moved. It's just your imagination."
"Yeah?" he asked again, already calmer. "Hm… I guess you're right…" he muttered, tilting his head. "I must have made it all up…"
Hermione nodded, watching him with an understanding smile.
"There's nothing wrong with that, Tommy, really. I've read about it in books. People with strong imaginations get that sometimes. It's even a good thing! So don't worry."
Tommy sighed, his face clearing, and set to his sandwich with doubled appetite, washing it down with tea. Hermione felt the tension start to leave her. The Persuasion Potion had worked, and at last she could breathe.
When Tommy finished his tea, they talked a bit more. Hermione kept the conversation neutral, only now and then joking about his wild imagination. Tommy, chuckling, started telling her how next time he'd show up with a new spell, and she just nodded, already thinking how to keep the flower from causing trouble again.
Finally, Tommy left, and Hermione hurried to her room. As soon as she shut the door, she turned to the windowsill. The Fiery Lotus was agitated, its petals swaying constantly, and tiny tongues of flame kept spitting from its center. It was a clear warning.
"Oh, I'd better hurry," she muttered, pulling out her gardening shears and tugging on fireproof gloves.
She knew the plant was capricious. If it wasn't trimmed in time, it could start a real fire.