Daphne, Astoria, and Hermione—those closest to him—saw Tom through a kind of gentle filter. To them, he was reassuring, familiar, never oppressive. But for others, it was different.
They looked at him and felt it instantly: over the course of a single summer holiday, Tom had grown… more dangerous.
"Wow, Tom—you've gotten so pale!"
Whatever quiet tension lingered in the air was shattered by Daphne's unfiltered exclamation. The silly, sweet girl dashed over to him, blinking in awe. Through the two-way mirror she hadn't seen him properly, but now—seeing his skin up close—her jaw dropped in pure envy.
Even under the evening sky, Tom's complexion seemed to glow faintly. He was radiant. And unfairly enough, it made Daphne feel as though he, not she, was the prettier one.
"These days I haven't gone out into the sun," Tom explained lightly, ruffling her soft hair. He dared not mention the real reason—knowing this girl, she might try to call down lightning on herself just to 'keep up.'
Daphne's eyes darted mischievously. "Then this month, I'm not leaving the castle at all."
"Alright, alright," Tom chuckled, humoring her, "whatever you say. Come on, let's get moving."
He led the small group toward the carriages, laughing and exchanging soft words with Hermione along the way. He had promised her that once he returned from France, he would spend those days before term began with her. But here he was—showing up only on the first night of school.
He knew he was in the wrong. He hadn't kept his word.
But Hermione wasn't truly angry. She didn't want a fight—she wanted to see if he would acknowledge it, coax her just a little. Once he did, she relented, letting him off the hook.
Some girls demanded endlessly once they knew they were in the right. They pressed and pressed until the boy yielded completely. But Hermione was different. She was clever. Even her little sulks had reason behind them, carefully measured. With her rational, science-trained mind, she understood just how precious Tom's time with Nicolas Flamel had been. How could she begrudge him that?
Once aboard the thestral-drawn carriage, Daphne immediately launched into a lively retelling of what they had seen on the train.
"We all saw it! Potter and Weasley flying through the sky in a car! A real Muggle car! I swear, someone out there had to have seen them."
Tom blinked, caught off guard. His summer had been so full that he had nearly forgotten all about the original storyline. Still, he had to give Ron some credit—driving all the way from London to Hogwarts? That was worthy of a spot in the wizarding hall of fame.
At the mention of it, Hermione groaned. "I can already see it. Gryffindor starting the year with a mountain of lost points."
"Not necessarily," Tom leaned back into the cushioned seat, voice casual. "Strictly speaking, term hasn't begun yet. The feast hasn't even started. Technically, there's no rule to deduct house points before the school year officially begins."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "That's—brilliant! If only this teaches them a lesson for once. Then maybe… just maybe… Gryffindor can still take the House Cup. Your Slytherin streak will end with seven wins."
"Correction—soon to be eight consecutive wins," Tom countered smoothly.
"In your dreams. This year, Gryffindor will be champion."
"You must be dreaming. If the Cup were awarded for losing points, then yes, Gryffindor would win every year."
The two bickered easily, like they had done a hundred times before. Tom, long immune to their back-and-forth, leaned aside and quietly asked Astoria about her health.
"No relapses recently?" he murmured.
"No," the silver-haired girl replied softly, her voice as delicate as spun sugar. "I took another strengthening draught. I feel much better."
"Good. But keep exercising. Especially as winter approaches—you don't want to fall ill. Hogwarts winters can be harsh, especially down in the Slytherin dorms. I'll teach you a dehumidifying charm—it'll keep the room more comfortable."
Astoria nodded, obedient and sweet. "Alright."
So sensible.
Tom reached out, ruffling her silken hair. Her cheeks flared crimson, but instead of pulling away, she tilted her head forward slightly, leaning into his touch with quiet trust.
And just then—
Hermione and Daphne both whirled around sharply, glaring in unison.
"Tom! Why is Astoria in the carriage with us?!"
Tom and Astoria froze, caught red-handed.
Fifteen minutes later, the carriage rolled to a stop.
Gazing up at the familiar silhouette of the castle after two and a half months away, Tom felt a pang of nostalgia. Hogwarts truly did have a magic of its own. It seeped into young witches and wizards, binding them, until the place felt less like a school and more like a second home.
Daphne, tugging Astoria by the hand, hurried off at once to find Professor McGonagall—worried that sneaking in outside the official "four houses route" might cause trouble.
But Tom wasn't concerned. If a transfer student could arrive in a far more outrageous way and still get in without issue, then Astoria would be fine.
On the staircase, he spotted Malfoy craning his neck, clearly searching for someone. The blond boy's face lit up the moment he saw Tom. He dashed over, breathless, cheeks flushed.
"Tom! Have you seen Potter?"
"No," Tom shook his head, but added, "though Daphne told me earlier she saw Potter and Weasley flying overhead in some Muggle car. They'll probably show up soon."
"In the sky?" Malfoy repeated, eyes going wide. Slowly, a gleeful grin spread across his face. Oh, this was perfect. If Potter had stirred up that much chaos, surely expulsion was on the table.
"Thank you, Tom! You've just made my night. My mother packed loads of sweets—come by later and try some, you'll love them!"
Without another word, Malfoy bounded away to spread the news, practically glowing with delight.
Hermione frowned deeply. "That boy… he takes too much pleasure in others' misery."
But even she couldn't hide the flicker of grim satisfaction that stirred inside. Could anyone blame Malfoy, really? No. The fault lay with Harry and Ron. They'd handed their enemies the rope willingly.
"Enough," Tom teased, tugging her gently toward the Great Hall. "Worrying too much about others will just age you. At this rate, you'll have wrinkles by thirty."
Hand in hand, they crossed the entrance hall and stepped into the candlelit heart of Hogwarts.