Tom: ???
Hasn't this girl woken up yet? Tom looked into Hermione's eyes, trying to determine if she was serious. But he remembered their interrupted conversation at the Burrow that day, and he thought Hermione might be truly determined now.
"I'm not joking; I mean it," Hermione took a step closer to Tom's room and closed the door behind her.
Once the room's door closed, the atmosphere became somewhat ambiguous. But Tom wasn't in the mood for ambiguity right now; he was more concerned about Hermione's emotional state.
How could such a passionate learner suddenly want to leave Hogwarts?
Hermione let out a soft sigh and sat down next to Tom on the edge of the bed. After sitting, Hermione didn't rush to explain but voluntarily reached out and took Tom's right hand.
She held Tom's hand, and with her head down, she didn't say anything; she simply traced circles in his palm as if she had found a new and fascinating toy.
Since they started their relationship, it was usually Tom who held Hermione's hand, so it was rare for Hermione to take the initiative.
After a brief silence, Hermione finally gathered the courage and told Tom the reason she wanted to leave Hogwarts.
"Tom, I've been thinking about this since the World Cup, the magical world has added a different touch to my life, a beauty I'll remember forever... But now I realize there's a cost behind that beauty, do you understand?"
Hermione squeezed Tom's hand. "My dad, my mum, and you, you're the most important people to me in this world. If one day you're not here, what will I do?"
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes.
"We should move, dad has many friends in France; we could settle there, in Paris, Caen, Marseille, or Lyon," Hermione's eyes suddenly lit up with an expectant look, and two tears escaped from her eyes. "We could buy an apartment by the Seine, walk along the river in the mornings, and have a cup of coffee at a corner café when we get tired. And of course, if you don't like Paris's weather, we could also settle in Marseille, by the sea, with seafood, sun, and beaches..."
It was evident that what happened at the World Cup had a significant impact on Hermione, causing her to consider leaving.
The magical world in Britain was just too dangerous! Hermione felt it was similar to the unease that prevailed in Germany in the 1930s. The British magical world was also starting to stir. As someone at the bottom of the discriminatory hierarchy, what sense was there in staying and waiting for death?
Given the circumstances and Hermione's skills, she could live very comfortably outside the magical world. After three years of study, she had more than enough control over her magic.
Truth be told, Hermione's proposal truly tempted Tom. Fleeing might be shameful, but it could also be very comfortable. He would also like to get rid of Voldemort and then go on a holiday with Hermione.
But did she really believe she could escape Voldemort by going to France? Hadn't Karkaroff fled far enough? What was the outcome? Retirement and waiting for Voldemort to be defeated, perhaps.
"Do you really not trust Dumbledore? With him and me together, Voldemort won't be able to do much." Tom took a tissue from the bedside table and wiped the tears from Hermione's eyes.
"Dumbledore is trustworthy, of course..." Hermione seemed embarrassed. "But at the same time, he's not entirely trustworthy."
Trustworthy but not entirely trustworthy, that was Hermione's view of Dumbledore. She believed that in the fight against Voldemort, Dumbledore would ultimately emerge victorious, but she also understood that the process of the fight would come at a cost.
Hermione knew the history of the first wizarding war; many people died in that war, like Fabian, Mrs. Weasley's brother, and Gideon Prewett, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and many people endured inhumane torture, like Neville Longbottom's parents. Although the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic won that war, the price paid by these families couldn't be easily erased. Besides, it was disappointing that many war criminals had escaped punishment. Hermione didn't believe there was a single Death Eater locked in Azkaban after this Quidditch World Cup parade.
So, Hermione didn't want her family and loved ones to pay that price. That's why she wanted to flee, go to a place far from Voldemort.
Tom understood what Hermione was trying to say, but he found it difficult to agree with her idea. Did she really think Voldemort's reach was limited to the British Isles?
And considering the current balance of power, Tom felt he had the upper hand. Why not resolve the issue once and for all while his side was in a position of power?
Tom's hand rested on Hermione's shoulder, embracing the insecure girl.
"I'll tell you a story, how about that?"
"Okay." Hermione nestled into Tom's embrace; her boyfriend's hug always provided her with a great sense of security.
"Long ago, there was a famous sage, although he's not the protagonist of our story today. This sage offended a great warlord, and the warlord sent his men to arrest him. The sage said to the warlord's envoy, 'Can guilt be limited to just one person, while my two sons are saved?' His sons calmly replied, 'Have you ever seen a bird's nest collapse where the eggs remain intact?' And so, shortly after, the order came to arrest the two young men."
Hermione fell silent for a moment and responded with a soft voice, "This warlord is truly evil."
"Do you know what the most painful moment of failure in this warlord's life was?"
"How was it?" Hermione began to show interest.
"It's part of the story of this warlord. To expand his dominion, he decided to attack another, smaller warlord. Since the smaller warlord couldn't resist, he surrendered..."
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Tom quickly placed his index finger on her lips and said, "Wait until I finish..."
"After the smaller warlord surrendered, the great warlord didn't stop pursuing him and took the widow of the smaller warlord's uncle as his lover. The smaller warlord, humiliated, gathered his troops and attacked the great warlord at night, instantly killing the great warlord's most beloved general and his eldest son, who was supposed to succeed him. This led to an internal struggle for succession within the great warlord's domain. Do you understand what I mean?" Tom withdrew his finger.
"But what was the smaller warlord's ultimate fate? Surely, the great warlord must have hated him a lot, right?"
"Of course, he hated him, but in the end, the smaller warlord had a peaceful death."
Hermione: ...
Tom's point was simple: if you seek peace, prepare for war. If you seek compromise, you'll miss out. For Voldemort, there's only one way to handle him: eradicate him completely. Voldemort and people like Grindelwald are not the same. One can't be reborn, while the other can live secluded from the world for decades in a castle.
Moreover, Tom and Voldemort had fundamentally opposing interests. Voldemort treated everyone with threats, beheadings, and like dogs, whether it was Bellatrix, Lucius, or Barty Crouch Jr. No matter how high their status in the outside world, they were all Voldemort's lackeys. Tom didn't want to be one of Voldemort's dogs. If he had to be a dog, Tom would choose...
"As for the safety of Mum and Dad, I have a suggestion: Have you heard of the Fidelius Charm?"
"The Fidelius Charm?" Hermione showed a confused expression on her face.
"It's a very complex spell that can forever hide a location within the soul of another living person. The information is concealed within the chosen person, who becomes the Secret-Keeper. And thereafter, it's impossible to find what they guard unless the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. We can ask Dumbledore to perform the Fidelius Charm on this house, and you can be the Secret-Keeper." Tom offered a suggestion that seemed very reliable.
In reality, the Fidelius Charm seemed very powerful, but it did have some limitations. After casting the spell on the house, although the house couldn't be found, the workplace could still be found. So, it could only provide a certain level of protection, but that was enough.
"Will Professor Dumbledore help us perform the Fidelius Charm?" Hermione worried a bit after hearing it was "very complicated." Dumbledore was a very busy person, and she wasn't sure if he'd be willing to perform the spell on their house.
"Of course!" Tom smiled faintly. "If it's a request from me."
Tom wasn't lying. At this moment, Tom's worth was already at its peak. Even if he pawned Hogwarts at Gringotts, Dumbledore could probably afford it. Of course, the post-transaction sermons were inevitable.
"So... are we still going to Hogwarts?" After being persuaded repeatedly, Hermione's determination began to waver.
"Yes, the Dark Lord won't be around here for much longer."
Hermione nodded. "Alright, let me see the letter the school sent."
"You're considering it, aren't you? You're not going to quit your studies?"
"Yes."
After getting an affirmative response from Hermione, Tom handed her the letter.
"There aren't many changes in the textbooks. For the spell class, we need 'Standard Charms - Level 4' and some consumables like parchment... gala robes, what's that?"
Hermione noticed the most prominent item on the list.
"We'll need to get two robes on Diagon Alley." Tom didn't like shopping, but he had no choice; he had to get them.
Hermione's eyes landed on Tom. "Maybe we don't need to go to Diagon Alley..."
"Yes!" Tom clapped his hands. "We can find a tailor shop in London..."
Hermione shook her head.
"I can try making them myself."
Tom: ????
"When did you learn tailoring?"
"A few days ago, while I was working part-time on Diagon Alley..." Hermione's gaze shifted.
"So, you've never tried making clothes before, have you?" Tom's expression turned serious.
"No."
Tom thought Hermione's decision was unreliable.
"We can simply place an order at the tailor shop."
In the end, Hermione relented and allowed Tom to do both.
"Alright..." Tom sighed in relief. He couldn't trust Hermione's beginner-level skills.
"Oh, Tom, shall we start now?"
Tom: ???
Start? Start what? Hermione's words puzzled Tom for a moment.
"Taking body measurements, sending the data directly to the tailor. It will be quicker to make the clothes."
Tom thought for a moment, realizing it made sense. Tailor-made clothes based on body measurements would surely fit well. But something didn't add up...
Wait, for him, the key to tailor-made clothing was not "making the clothes" at all but "taking the measurements." Did he have to measure Hermione's body data?
Tom's face turned red.
"Is this... okay? Isn't it... uncomfortable? And if we're measuring... we also have to measure that, right?"
"It's fine. It's convenient now..." Hermione didn't think much of it. The pressure that had been weighing on her all night suddenly lifted. At this moment, she just wanted to find a way to relax. So, she unbuttoned her white robe one by one, revealing her fair skin.
The robe fell to the floor, exposing her flawless body to Tom, like a peeled egg, the black fabric contrasting her even whiter skin. The black silk triangular underwear didn't use much fabric; it only covered the triangular area in a simple way, and two strings played a significant supporting role. With the help of a bow, they defied gravity.
Tom's breathing became heavier and heavier.
"Why are you staring? Hurry up and take the measurements." Hermione smiled at Tom and closed her eyes.
Tom awkwardly took a tape measure from the drawer, trying to calm down and focus on taking the measurements.
Gulp.
Tom swallowed hard, moved behind Hermione, and saw her completely exposed flawless back before his eyes, except for the part covered by the ribbon on her neck.
Tom could see her shoulders trembling slightly and the fine hairs on the surface of her skin.
Tom remained silent for a long time.
"Do you usually... dress like this?" Tom asked.
Hermione nodded.
"Come on, there's much more to measure, back there."
Tom unrolled the tape measure and placed it over Hermione's shoulders.
The measurement of shoulder width was a success.
Tom sighed in relief, as if he had completed an incredible battle. Although he and Hermione had kissed before, this kind of contact was something new.
"Are you done measuring? There are many other things to measure," Hermione smiled at Tom, a smile that made Tom's heart beat wildly, like a deer stumbling uncontrollably.
"What else?" Tom kept his composure and looked at Hermione.
"Could you help me measure my foot size? I want to make a pair of custom shoes." Hermione sat in her seat and lifted one leg, crossing her legs. Her slippers detached from the soles of her feet under the influence of gravity, swaying in the air with Hermione's movements.
Tom: "Do you really... need me to measure it?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "It seems like you don't want to, do you?"
"I do want to!" Tom immediately replied, leaving no way out.
Hermione smiled slightly; it really was a way to relieve stress!
"Then... let's go!" Hermione raised her tiptoes with a smile.