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— — — — — —
The next day.
Tom didn't wake up until right before class, groggy and half-asleep.
He wasn't even sure what time he'd finally fallen asleep last night. It felt like he'd only just closed his eyes before it was already time to get up.
He spent History of Magic catching up on sleep, then continued his nap through Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Sure, a vial of energy potion could've fixed him up, but potions only make you not tired. Sleeping, on the other hand, feels good. So naturally, Tom chose the more enjoyable option.
In History of Magic, he sat next to Daphne.
The little witch didn't ask what he'd been up to last night. She just looked at him with quiet concern—and even slipped a pair of earplugs into his ears so he could rest more soundly. Thoughtful as always.
But when DADA class rolled around, it was Hermione's turn to sit beside him—and her curiosity was way sharper than Daphne's.
Near the end of the period, when Tom was finally starting to feel alive again, Hermione couldn't hold back any longer.
"Tom, what did you do last night? I've never seen you this out of it before."
And this was Hermione Granger we were talking about—the model student who'd never dare bring up off-topic conversations in most classes. But Defense Against the Dark Arts? Totally fair game. If anything, staying on topic was the real waste of time here.
Tom yawned, his mouth dry. He grabbed his water bottle and took a long swig before answering lazily, "I had a late-night snack last night. Couldn't sleep afterward."
Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "You have late-night snacks all the time. Why would last night be any different?"
"Because this time, I had it in the Forbidden Forest," Tom sighed dramatically. "Hannah's cooking is amazing. If I had a little chef like that at home, life would be perfect."
…Huh?
The Forbidden Forest part didn't even register—it wasn't the important detail here.
Hannah? Little chef? What the hell was that supposed to mean?!
Since when were they that close?
In an instant, Daphne, who was shamelessly eavesdropping from the row in front, perked up her ears.
Hermione lowered her voice and spoke quickly, "Why were you having dinner with Abbott?"
"Just bumped into her and Susan. Oh, and some second-year girl too," Tom said offhandedly, licking his lips and rubbing his stomach. He hadn't had breakfast and thinking about food made him hungry again.
"I see…" Hermione murmured, filing away the critical intel: Hannah Abbott's food is exactly Tom's taste. Noted.
Then she changed the subject.
"Tom, you're heading home for Christmas, right? Want to hang out before you go?"
"My parents and I are going skiing in the Pyrenees, but that's after New Year's. I'll be around until then."
"Hm… I might be busy, but we'll see."
Hermione shook his head, "Oh come on, we could at least spare an afternoon, right? We can meet in Diagon Alley—Even Daphne will come."
Daphne, still listening, nodded enthusiastically.
Good going, Granger. You really are my bestie. Way to talk me up.
— — —
Hogwarts courtyard, in the small garden.
Hannah stared blankly at the two mini cakes sitting in front of her.
She racked her brain but couldn't think of any reason why Granger and Greengrass of all people would suddenly want to be nice to her.
Everyone already knew Hermione Granger had zero chill—Hannah instinctively feared those uptight overachiever types.
As for Greengrass? Even worse. Sure, both of them came from the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood families, but Slytherins and Hufflepuffs ran in very different circles. Her own family was barely scraping by, while Daphne's... well, she was practically royalty among purebloods.
And now, these two were giving her cakes? Not just any cakes, but the most expensive ones from Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop? The kind a certain upperclassman had once bought from Hogsmeade and bragged about for weeks?
Gulp.
Hannah swallowed hard. "Um… Greengrass, Granger… you sure you didn't mix me up with someone else?"
Hermione and Daphne exchanged a quick glance before giving her dazzling, in-sync smiles.
"No need to be so formal," Daphne said cheerfully. "We're all classmates—just call me Daphne."
"Same here," Hermione chimed in. "Just Hermione is fine."
Hannah awkwardly nodded and corrected herself, "Okay… Hermione, Daphne. But… are you sure those cakes were meant for me?"
"Of course they were," Daphne grinned. "This one's my favorite—White Whale Caviar Mille-Feuille. Try it!"
"Mine's not bad either," Hermione added. "Black Truffle Chocolate Lava Cake—on the sweeter side. I actually asked your dorm mates, and they said you've got a bit of a sweet tooth. Especially for chocolate."
That only made Hannah more nervous… though also more tempted.
Oh, whatever. Cake was cake. It's not like they were gonna poison her or something, right?
She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and dug in after a quick "thank you."
Hermione and Daphne shared a knowing smile. Daphne pulled out a bottle of chilled lemon water in case Hannah choked, while Hermione conjured a soft blue flame—Bluebell Flames, warm but harmless—to keep things cozy.
In no time, both cakes were eaten, and Hannah looked completely blissed out.
"Hermione, Daphne, if you need help with anything, just say the word! I'll totally help you out—even if it's homework. I'll write it for you!" Hannah pounded her chest with pride.
While eating, she'd figured it out—these two were definitely after something, and that's why they were being so sweet.
Hufflepuffs loved making friends. Anyone who gave her cake? Instant best friend material.
"Hannah, you might just be the smartest and kindest Hufflepuff I've ever met," Daphne said dramatically, before laughing. "And yes, we do need your help. But don't worry—it's nothing cruel like homework."
That alone made Hannah visibly relax.
As long as it wasn't homework, how hard could it be?
Hermione took over. "During class this morning, Tom mentioned your stew was amazing—way better than anything the school serves."
"I was hoping you could teach me how to cook, so I can make it myself someday."
Daphne nodded. "Me too."
"That's it?" Hannah nearly laughed. She'd been stressing out for this?
"Sure! Next time I'm cooking, I'll let you know. You know where the Hufflepuff common room is, right? Just come find me there. The kitchens are right by the entrance."
"But…" Hannah hesitated a little. "I've never taught anyone to cook before, so I'm not sure how good I'll be at explaining things."
"That's okay!" Hermione said quickly. "If we don't get it, that's on us, not you."
"Just talk us through it step-by-step. We'll take notes and study them later."
"Well, that makes things easier," Hannah nodded. "If it doesn't work the first time, we'll just try again. Cooking's really just practice and timing—once you've got the ingredients, seasonings, and heat down, it's not that hard."
"We can start after the Christmas break," she added.
"Why wait?" Daphne suddenly said. "We could do it during the break too."
Hannah's eyes widened, her twin braids bouncing. She hadn't expected Daphne to be this into it.
"Well… I guess we could, but you'd have to come over to my house. It's not that hard if you use the Floo Network."
"Pala," Daphne whispered softly.
POP!
A loud crack echoed as a house-elf appeared out of thin air, making Hermione and Hannah jump.
Hannah stared at the little creature, stunned. "Is that… a house-elf?!"
Hermione, on the other hand, had no idea what she was looking at. She tilted her head, studying the odd little being curiously.
"Miss Daphne!" the house-elf squeaked, bowing so low its nose nearly brushed the floor.
Daphne turned to Hannah. "Hannah, this is Pala, my family's house-elf. Actually, she's the one who'll be learning how to cook from you—not me."
"I've never even stepped foot in a kitchen," Daphne admitted. "I wouldn't even know how to hold a knife properly. Teaching me would be a total waste of your time. But Pala's already decent with household chores and basic cooking. So I'll have her stay with you during the holidays—she can help out around the house too."
Daphne was very aware of her own strengths—and cooking was definitely not one of them.
But what did she have? Money. Resources. Family. Money. And more money.
So sending a house-elf was more than enough. Her goal was to win Tom's heart through his stomach, and it didn't necessarily have to be her doing the cooking.
"W-Wait, really? But doesn't that mean your house will be short a house-elf?" Hannah's eyes sparkled with excitement. She was clearly tempted.
A real house-elf! The Abbotts didn't have anything like that—her parents handled all the chores themselves.
"No need to worry, we still have two more at home," Daphne said breezily, waving a hand. "Pala, when you're at Hannah's house, listen to her and her parents. Learn all you can about her cooking. I'll be testing you when you come back."
"Yes, Miss Daphne!" Pala replied energetically. She turned to Hannah, her big eyes shining. "Miss Hannah, please use me however you see fit!"
Since Daphne had already insisted, Hannah didn't turn her down. Instead, she nodded—though inwardly she was still a little stunned.
The Greengrass family was loaded. Most pureblood families considered themselves lucky to have one house-elf. The Greengrasses had three?
And here she was—just teaching someone a bit of cooking—and she'd scored herself a house-elf for the entire holiday. Talk about a sweet deal.
Once they parted ways with Hannah, Hermione finally asked, "Daphne, what exactly is a house-elf? Some kind of magical creature? I don't remember seeing them mentioned in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."
Daphne nodded, understanding that Hermione, while smart, was still catching up on some wizarding world basics. "House-elves aren't considered magical creatures like Hippogriffs or Nifflers. They're more like goblins—an actual magical race."
"Most pureblood families have house-elves to handle chores and everyday tasks. They are like slaves or servants."
Hermione frowned the moment she heard the last two words.
Her upbringing had taught her to reject anything that smelled even remotely feudal or oppressive.
"But wait," she said, remembering something. "Hogwarts: A History says that apparition is banned on school grounds. So how can house-elves just pop in and out like that?"
"Oh, that's something Tom told me," Daphne replied. "That rule only applies to wizards and witches. House-elves aren't restricted by it. The Headmaster's phoenix can do it too."
She gave Hermione a curious look. "Why are you so interested in house-elves all of a sudden?"
"Oh, no reason," Hermione said quickly. "I've just never seen one before, that's all."
She didn't press further, already making a mental note to do some research later.
Daphne didn't think much of it. She hummed a little tune as she skipped back toward the castle, off to find Tom.
---
Finally, it was Friday—the last class before the holidays.
Tomorrow morning, everyone heading home would board the Hogwarts Express and begin their well-earned break.
Even the students staying behind could look forward to a life of pure bliss: wake up, eat, nap, repeat. Pig-level luxury.
Needless to say, everyone's brains had already gone into vacation mode.
But if you had the last class, Potions with Snape… well, too bad. That man could kill a party faster than a Dementor.
If you acted up, you'd learn firsthand what cruel really meant.
Draco Malfoy was taking the opportunity to mock Harry again, sneering about how he was an unwanted orphan who had to stay at school for the holidays.
He was dying to say something nasty about Tom too. After all, what kind of orphan had anywhere to go?
But he only thought about it. No way was he dumb enough to say it out loud—not after what happened last time.
Since then, Draco had completely avoided Tom. Their paths simply didn't cross anymore.
Harry, for his part, heard the jabs loud and clear, but his expression didn't change.
This was Malfoy's idea of trash talk? It sounded more like whining. Completely harmless.
Truth be told, Harry was thrilled to be staying at school. Who in their right mind would want to go back to the Dursleys for Christmas?
If he had the choice, he'd stay at Hogwarts for summer break too—but unfortunately, the castle shut down completely during that time.
...
Once class ended, the room erupted into cheers as students celebrated the start of vacation—despite Snape still being there.
Surprisingly, Snape didn't stop them. He just turned on his heel and walked out.
Tom and Daphne said a quick goodbye to Hermione and hurried after him.
A massive Christmas tree being carried by Hagrid briefly blocked their view, so by the time Tom caught up, Malfoy had switched targets—he was now picking on Ron.
"I bet you're hoping to work here after graduation, huh? The gamekeeper's hut must look like a palace compared to your house."
That boy's mouth was poisoned.
"Damn you." Ron roared and lunged at him.
Snape's lips curled into a smug smile as he stepped forward—but Tom quickly stepped in his way.
"Professor, it's just kids fighting. No need to interfere," Tom said casually. "I've got something more important for you."
Snape's face instantly darkened. Behind him, Ron and Malfoy were already grappling with each other.
"Speak. Now," Snape snapped.
Tom smiled slightly. "Oh, it's nothing really. Just thought… since neither of us has plans, why not kill time with a duel?"
Snape narrowed his eyes and stared at the boy, completely ignoring the chaos unfolding on the stairs behind him.
.
.
.