As Hermione looked on in astonishment, Tom pulled out a small box filled with ingredients and a small frying pan.
Tom took out two slices of fresh bread from the ingredient box, each slice nearly an inch thick. Next, he pulled out a pre-made egg mixture with a few tablespoons of evaporated milk - evaporated milk is actually "thick" milk, the product of distilling milk to remove some of the water, about half the amount of water in fresh milk.
"I read the recipe in the newspaper. This dessert is called Lost Milk, and it's for stress relief." Tom was aware of Hermione's condition, and unlike him, Hermione had always maintained the highest level, which meant she wasn't lazy in class.
How could it be? They were enrolled in eleven classes this semester, and the pressure was so great that they needed to use a Time-Turner to attend their classes on time. If you take all the classes seriously, you can't afford it. Hermione is in a state of "overwhelm," while Tom is able to cope because he is lazy. There was no persuasion, but Tom could help Hermione by doing something to alleviate her stress.
For example, a calorie-filled dessert.
Tom placed the bread slices on an iron tray and poured a well-beaten egg batter over them, letting the slices soak in the egg mixture. At the same time, he propped up a small frying pan on the ground and looked at Hermione. Hermione understood and used her magic to create a flickering blue fire. The flame licked the bottom of the pan, gradually heating it. Tom added a pat of butter, watching as it melted, transforming from a soft yellow lump into a liquid with a million tiny bubbles. When the creamy aroma wafted up, he added the bread slices, which had already absorbed a good amount of the egg mixture.
"For dishes with evaporated milk, you should use the lowest heat, otherwise it's easy to burn." Hearing his words, Hermione lowered the heat and guiltily watched the bread slices in the pan; luckily, they weren't burnt.
There was a distinct aroma in the air as the butter and egg mixture came into contact and made a sizzling sound. After about thirty seconds, Tom pointed his wand and the bread slices flipped, revealing their golden sides.
"Wow!" Hermione's eyes turned into stars. "It looks incredible!"
Tom did the same, frying the other side of the bread slice until it turned golden, frying all sides so that it maintained its shape. Once the slices were done, he served them on a small plate, drizzled with sweetened condensed milk. As soon as the first slice was ready, Tom grabbed the second one from the pan and saw that Hermione had already levitated the slice onto the plate and was nibbling on it.
"This dish isn't finished yet..." Tom said helplessly.
"Eh?" Hermione panicked like a kitten caught stealing food, thinking it was done, but the bread slices were only halfway through.
What a mess, Hermione was a bit annoyed.
"It's alright, I'll make another slice," Tom said, seeing Hermione's expression. How could he say something serious? He would simply make another slice with the leftover ingredients. As he did so, Hermione stood by his side, watching him make the dessert and carefully eating the fried bread slices.
Tom stacked the two condensed milk-coated slices on top of each other and, with a small spoon, pressed a hole into the fluffy toast, filling it with the "milk" that Tom had boiled earlier. The drizzling milk, the essence of the dish, wasn't just any milk but a sweet paste made from a mixture of butter, evaporated milk, and condensed milk, slow-cooked. Tom warmed the "milk" slightly, poured it into a small well, creating a pool of milk, and topped it with a thick layer of cocoa powder, and the calorie bomb was complete.
He handed the dessert, which looked like a chocolate cake but was actually a burst sandwich, to Hermione on a plate and said, "Happy birthday, love Hermione" (This phrase is in French).
Hermione burst into laughter. "Where did you learn French? And that pronunciation is really weird!"
Although Tom's pronunciation of the word "Hermione" was indeed the French pronunciation. Since the "H" is not pronounced in French, many names can sound strange. The name Harry Potter, for example, is pronounced by the French as Alain Bauhet.
Hermione grabbed a teaspoon and gently pressed it against the dripping milk sandwich. The milk flowed out of the pool, and Hermione took a bite. It was so sweet that her eyes turned into crescent moons. After savoring the dessert, she said to Tom, "Merci, mon chéri" (Thank you, darling) and then said with a serious face, "This reminds me, you have never pronounced my name correctly."
Tom: ?!?
What? Isn't it Hermione?
"Her-mee-nee?" he said tentatively.
"No!" Hermione glared at him, looking a bit inflated. "Listen, it's Her-my-oh-nee."
Tom: ...
He was starting to understand everything.
The name Hermione, derived from the ancient Greek god Hermes, was also mentioned in Shakespeare's play "The Winter's Tale." But none of that mattered; Hermione just sounded drunk, talking a good game but actually trying to get Tom to say the words...
"Her-my-oh-nee," he pronounced her name as Hermione had.
"That's right," Hermione nodded in satisfaction. "You've known me for so long, and you can't even pronounce my name properly. You must be punished!" She gave Tom a stern look. "Boy, you need to be punished..."
Her eyes drifted off. "Then I'll punish you by cleaning my mouth!" With that, she leaned in close to Tom. Tom could smell the shampoo scent in her hair, see the long lashes of her eyes and her lips so soft and the rosy color of a peach, and smell the cocoa powder at the corner of her lips.
After a while, Tom kissed Hermione and wiped the milk from the corners of her mouth, and together they ate the remaining dripping milk.
After breakfast, Hermione rubbed her slightly swollen belly, blushed a little, and fell back into Tom's arms. She felt as if Tom had slipped a small box into her hands.
"Open it."
Hermione obediently opened the box and saw a silver bell and a gold chain lying peacefully inside.
"Is this...?" At first glance, Hermione thought it was a necklace, but she soon realized that something was amiss, and when she saw where the chain was supposed to be attached, a blush spread across her face.