"I'm warning you, Hermione, do not go around slandering people. The professors and I are just very good friends."
Hermione scoffed. "That's exactly what Master Thieves of Hearts always say."
"I don't have time for this nonsense." Tom set his water glass down and started pacing around the house.
He was incredibly familiar with everything here, but after rummaging through a few things, he looked a bit confused. "Where's that Snoopy pajama set I bought you last time? The really cute one with the hood?"
Hermione shot up from her seat, instantly on high alert. "What are you planning?!"
"What do you mean, 'what'? I'm going to take a shower. Don't I need something to change into afterward? Those pajamas are unisex, and I can definitely fit into that size—wait, have you been wearing them?!"
Hermione said nothing.
Sometimes, silence is the loudest answer.
No wonder she thought that size was way too big! It was never meant for her!
"Oh, here they are. Found 'em," Tom muttered. "Hmm... I am a bit short on clothes, though. Want to go out and buy some with me?"
"Yes! We are going! And we are buying you your own new pajamas! Do not wear mine!" Hermione hissed through gritted teeth as she practically dragged Tom out of the house.
They barely made it two steps before Hermione rushed back inside to change out of her wizard robes.
Walking around the Muggle world in those bizarre wizard robes was bound to look weird. It was too conspicuous—you'd look like an idiot.
Which, yes, was exactly what she thought of Tom right now.
After buying undergarments and a new set of pajamas, Tom headed back to the house, took a shower, and comfortably sprawled out on Hermione's bed.
Man, Hermione really knows how to live... Tom muttered to himself.
Such a comfortable, soft bed, with a stack of books right there on the nightstand. No wonder this little overachiever studied so hard every day. Reading in a bed like this was the ultimate luxury.
The only issue was the smell. It was strong.
Tom pulled the blanket up and took a whiff.
Holy crap. Ninety-nine percent purity. Rare stuff. That is potent.
He took another sniff.
Intoxicating.
"Smack!" Hermione slammed her fist down on the bedframe. Her face was bright red as she glared at Tom, gritting her teeth. "What! Are! You! Doing!"
Tom pulled his head back, waving a hand in front of his nose. "The smell is so strong. Did you spray perfume on your blankets?"
"I did not spray perfume! That's just the scent left over from when I shower."
"No wonder your bathroom is full of flower petals, milk baths, and all those other things I didn't recognize. Is that what you use when you bathe?"
Hermione let out an indignant huff and ignored him.
What's wrong with using those?! Stupid Tom, don't you know girls are supposed to smell nice?
Hermione tried to read her book, stealing glances at Tom out of the corner of her eye, only to find that the tactless bastard had already fallen fast asleep.
---
A falling leaf brought a message.
Well, actually, an owl brought a message.
Back at St. Lydia's Orphanage, Misha had finished her dinner alone. With nothing else to do, she sat by the front door. She didn't see Tom coming, but she did receive a letter.
After reading it, Misha happily pressed the envelope to her chest.
Tom had gone to Hermione's house, and he would come see her in a little while. Just the thought of getting to go out with Tom made her incredibly happy.
But the shadow wasn't pleased.
The shadow materialized beside her, pointing an accusing finger. "Oh, you foolish, naive Misha. Think about it. Right now, Tom and your precious 'Sister Hermione' are probably lying on the same bed. You are no longer the sister Tom cherishes the most. Someone new has taken your place."
"Tonight, they'll go out to dinner together. They'll talk and laugh about all the interesting things happening at Hogwarts, and then they'll lie on the windowsill together and look at the stars."
Misha's eyes widened instantly. She shot to her feet.
Alert level: MAX.
"No. I feel like you're lying to me." The usually slow-to-catch-on Misha suddenly got sharp.
"Why would I lie to you?" The shadow shrugged. "What Tom and Hermione do has nothing to do with me. You're the only one it affects. I just don't want to see you suffer. But fine, sigh, no good deed goes unpunished. I'll just go back to sleep. You can sit here and wait for the day Tom and Hermione get engaged and walk down the aisle right after graduation. And you, Misha... you can just be Tom's 'little sister' forever."
This time, Misha genuinely panicked.
She finally realized why she hated the shadow so much.
The shadow was her. In a way, no one understood her insecurities better than the shadow did.
"I don't want to listen to you! I just know you're lying to me!" Misha clamped her hands over her ears and crouched in the corner.
"Fine, stay here then," the shadow whispered obnoxiously in her ear. "Does life at the orphanage really make you feel that secure, Misha? Even after not seeing Tom for so long, the second he shows up, you completely change your tune about him, don't you?"
"In the future, you'll definitely attend Tom and Hermione's wedding banquet. You'll clap loudly and tell the whole world that Tom is your brother, and today, your brother is marrying Hermione Granger! And why will this happen? Because today, on December 26th, knowing full well that Tom is staying with Hermione, you chose to sit here in the orphanage, refusing to step foot outside!"
"Fine! I'm going! I'll go find her, okay?!"
Misha shot a furious glare at the shadow, stuffed a few pounds into her pocket, and stormed out of the orphanage.
She remembered the Grangers' address. When Hermione had sent that letter to Tom, Misha had caught a glimpse of it and memorized the long string of words.
Sitting on the bus, Misha propped her chin on her hand, watching the scenery roll by outside the window.
Quietly, she peeked down at the shadow on the floor. The shadow hadn't moved an inch.
Why do I still feel like I was tricked?
---
"Time to eat!" Hermione kicked Tom twice, clearly annoyed.
What is wrong with this guy?! It's bad enough he barged into someone else's house, but he totally hogged the bed! And... how is he sleeping so soundly?!
Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable!
Hermione was fuming. She had no idea how Tom's brain worked. If it were her, she could never do something so shameless!
Just as Hermione's white-socked foot was about to prod him again, Tom suddenly executed a perfect kip-up, dodging the kick and snapping fully awake.
His body moved before his brain had even processed the situation.
Tom rubbed the bridge of his nose, finally registering where he was, and let out a long breath.
"Why did you... react so strongly?" Hermione asked, startled.
Tom just shook his head, taking a sip of water without offering much of an explanation.
If you managed to humiliate Voldemort twice and had the exact same name as him, you wouldn't sleep well either. Tom was hyper-vigilant. He was genuinely terrified that one dark, windy night, Voldemort would just show up and hit him with a Killing Curse. Because of that, even the slightest disturbance would wake him instantly. He was a very light sleeper.
"Let's go eat," Hermione said, slinging her small bag over her shoulder. "Is there any place you want to go? We'll go together."
"Hmm... I don't really want steak. Let's just go out and see."
Just as the two of them were about to leave, a sudden knocking echoed from the front door.
Knock—knock, knock, knock.