The Slytherin Common Room.
In the hall, six first-years had gathered. Anyone who didn't know better might have thought they were holding a Pure-blood meeting.
Of course, that was exactly what they were doing.
"Don't you think that new guy is way too full of himself?"
Draco was, naturally, talking about Tom.
As the only child of one of the Wizarding World's twenty-eight pure-blood families, he had always been the most dazzling person in any room before coming to Hogwarts.
But ever since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, it had felt like he'd fallen into the depths of hell. He even had to be careful when sleeping, afraid of disturbing his three enemies and getting a beating.
"What are you planning to do?" asked his fellow pure-blood, Theodore Nott.
"Obviously, we'll beat him up. I'll make those half-bloods understand that pure-bloods and people like them aren't even on the same level," Draco said.
"Exactly," Crabbe and Goyle chimed in together.
The others looked at the three of them as if they could barely keep from laughing.
They'd lost in a three-on-one fight, and they still had the nerve to say that?
"Hmph. That was only because I hadn't learned any offensive spells yet, and because that guy fought dirty. What kind of wizard uses his fists in a fight? Is he some kind of thug?!" Draco said, doing his best to save face.
"If you want to start trouble, do it yourselves. I'm not getting involved." Daphne waved a hand. "We're pure-bloods because we have better genes than ordinary wizards. If we have to gang up on someone who isn't pure-blood, won't that make us the very weaklings we're always accusing others of being?"
"We're defending the dignity of pure-bloods!" Draco retorted.
"I think you're defending your fragile ego."
After saying that, Daphne waved goodbye and left the Pure-blood meeting early.
"Have you come up with a way to deal with Tom?" Theodore asked.
"I've already got it figured out." Draco cleared his throat. "First, we can't take revenge openly, and we can't wait too long either, in case we attract the headmaster's attention..."
He remembered his father once telling him that Headmaster Dumbledore cared deeply about half-bloods and Mudbloods. Whenever they clashed with pure-bloods, Dumbledore always took their side.
If Dumbledore found out about their revenge, they'd inevitably be punished by Hogwarts. Even if they weren't expelled, they'd certainly be publicly reprimanded in front of the whole school.
Of course, there was one more important reason he hadn't mentioned: they couldn't win.
They really couldn't win.
Especially after hearing that Tom had been training by dragging boulders around, Draco was even less eager to face him head-on—not until he'd learned more offensive spells, at least.
"So we can only sneak up on him, and the dormitory's the perfect place."
As it happened, Daphne was the only girl among those at the meeting; everyone else was a boy. Now that she'd left, there were no longer any restrictions on where they could meet.
"Tom's my roommate, so I can keep track of what he does every day. Let me call the shots when we make our move. I'll find the moment when he's most vulnerable."
"Good," the others answered.
That afternoon.
Because all the morning lessons had been skipped, the first class the young wizards were supposed to have—Transfiguration—had been replaced with Potions.
A staircase beside the Entrance Hall led down to a corridor. At the end of it was the Potions Classroom, fairly close to the Slytherin Common Room.
"I heard Professor Snape teaches Potions."
Ron held a first-year textbook, Magical Drafts and Potions. With class about to begin, he was going over the material and sharing the latest rumor he'd heard.
"Snape?"
Harry was holding a book too. The textbook was terribly dull, but he forced himself to keep reading so he wouldn't disappoint his big brother.
"That's right. They say he takes away more points than any other professor. If he catches you not studying properly, he'll give you a proper dressing-down."
"Oh, no." Harry's heart sank.
The harder he tried to study the textbook, the more his head spun.
Take Bezoars, for example. Why did you have to dig those out of a cow's stomach? Shouldn't you be digging around its rear end?
And then there were Monkshood, Wolfsbane, and all the other kinds of aconite. Their names were different, but the illustrations in the book all looked pretty much the same. The textbook was entirely black and white, and so were the illustrations. They showed him a whole bunch of similar-looking black-and-white flowers and expected him to tell them apart, name each one, and explain what it did...
There was no way he could do that!
Tom: (￣ー￣)
He suddenly felt terribly guilty toward the Potters.
It seemed he'd turned their clever, sharp-tongued child into a thick-headed brawler. Tom had managed to heal Harry's childhood trauma, but he wasn't sure it had been worth it.
Oh, well~
Harry was still young. There was probably time to turn him around.
For Harry's sake, and for the sake of his future Persona as a "Genius Educator," he'd have to try harder.
Just then—
"Shh—Professor Snape's office is right next to the classroom. If he hears you talking about him behind his back, you're done for."
The speaker was a charming little girl, dressed to impress.
"Miss Greengrass Nott. It's been a while." Tom recognized her.
"You don't have to be so formal. Just call me Daphne." She waved a hand and sat down beside Tom.
"Sure, Daphne," Tom replied.
He remembered that Daphne was a pure-blood, but didn't appear much in the original story. The one thing everyone knew about her was that her younger sister eventually married Draco Malfoy.
"I came to warn you. Draco and the others are plotting something against you. I don't know what they're up to."
Daphne rather liked Tom. They hadn't actually encountered a Troll when they first arrived at school, but he'd been willing to team up with her, which had made her feel much safer at the time.
"Aren't you worried?"
Daphne noticed that Tom was still reading and didn't seem bothered at all.
"I saw it coming," Tom said.
After all, Draco was the son of a pure-blood family, and he'd always been proud and haughty. Why would someone like that swallow an insult without getting even?
Still, whether he could take revenge depended on whether he was strong enough.
"Good. If you're not worried, could you help me with something I don't understand in Potions?" Daphne asked.
"Of course."
Just then—
Thump!
Tom looked up. Hermione had appeared in front of his desk at some point, and the textbook in her hands had fallen to the floor.
"Miss Granger, is something wrong?"
"I-I'm fine..." Hermione said, flustered, as she picked up her book.
She'd heard that the Potions professor was strict, so she'd come to find Tom ahead of time, hoping they could study together.
She couldn't help it. She barely knew anyone at Hogwarts. The only people she knew at all were Tom and a few others. As for Neville, who was in Gryffindor with her... she'd rather not.
But when she got to Tom, she saw that someone was already talking with him. Asking him for help now might be very rude.
"Sorry. Maybe I came at a bad time."
After saying that, she turned and walked away, leaving Tom completely baffled.
What did she mean?
And what was with that line that sounded so familiar?
"Did you know her before you came to the Wizarding World?" Daphne asked.
"Hermione Granger, a first-year Gryffindor. We've only met in passing, really."
"So she's a silly little lion..." Daphne murmured, watching Hermione's retreating back.
If they'd only met in passing, why did Tom remember her name so well? And how did he know exactly which house she was in?
Something was off.
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