"One moment, please," shouted Professor McGonagall as she stopped the young wizards who were trying to leave at the end of dinner. "All students, please hand in your permission forms to your House prefect before the opening day of Hogsmeade village. You won't be able to go without them, don't forget!"
As she finished, many of the students who had prepared for the event approached the staff table and handed their Hogsmeade permission forms to their House prefect. Ron nudged Harry, nodding his head, and gestured for him to look at the long Ravenclaw table.
"I remember Tom was in a special situation too, right? But it seems he has also turned in his permission form."
Harry looked at him with envy and whispered to Ron, "Don't even think about it, I can't learn his method."
He hadn't dreamed of such a solution until he met Tom during the summer. Harry glanced down at his application form, observing the elegant signature of "Vernon Dursley," and had a slight feeling that even if he had copied it, things wouldn't have gone as smoothly.
Harry's subconscious was right, even if he had the actual signature of permission from his Uncle Vernon, Fudge would do anything to prevent him from going to Hogsmeade and would never allow Harry to be outside of school until Sirius was captured. Fudge already had enough to worry about these days and didn't want to get into more trouble, so he made it clear: stay at the school, Harry, and don't give me any problems.
And what if something happens at the school too? What does that have to do with me, Fudge? Hogwarts is Dumbledore's business. Fudge couldn't wait for Sirius and Hogwarts to fight so he could get some sleep.
"Honestly, I wish my mother could be your guardian," Ron muttered.
It could have been an inappropriate comment, but Harry was genuinely touched— the offer really appealed to him! What if Mrs. Weasley became his guardian? But then he thought of another problem: if Mrs. Weasley became his guardian, would he have to move to the Burrow... or be swept away by the Dursleys and embarrassedly flee to the Burrow?
Of course, he would, but would it be too much trouble for Mrs. Weasley?
That's what he thought until Ron nudged him to hurry up and turn in the permission form. The entrance hall was nearly empty, with only a few students remaining. Professor McGonagall was also sorting through the forms she had in her hands, and it seemed she was about to leave the auditorium in the next few seconds.
Harry approached Professor McGonagall apprehensively and saw Neville just ahead of him.
"Professor, it's like..."
"Your form? Your grandmother sent it to me," Professor McGonagall seemed to have guessed the second half of Neville's sentence and went straight to the answer.
"Oh, that's great, sorry to bother you!" A look of relief crossed Neville's face, and he hurried away, leaving Harry behind.
"Potter, are you also coming to turn in your forms?"
"Yes," Harry felt his heart beating faster. He was deceiving his House prefect, but he didn't seem to have any other choice. He handed the form to Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall stared at him, her sharp gaze piercing through the parchment.
After what felt like a century, Professor McGonagall spoke.
"Potter, I'm afraid I can't proceed with this. You'll need your uncle to send me a letter confirming that he is aware and has given you permission to go to Hogsmeade."
Harry had the sense that Professor McGonagall had figured it all out, but he asked rigidly, "Yes, Professor, there's one more thing, uh... do you think it would be possible... I mean, would it be possible for Mrs. Weasley to be my guardian and give me permission to go to Hogsmeade?"
An expression of bewilderment appeared on Professor McGonagall's face, and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Potter, but no. Rules are rules, and that's how it must be. Well, go back to your dormitory and get some rest, you better hurry, curfew is approaching."
Harry couldn't do anything more.
Many Gryffindors came to console him. Ron had said many bad things about Professor McGonagall, which had upset Percy a bit. Dean Thomas offered to write Harry's authorization letter, but he refused, sensing that it wasn't about a letter and that Professor McGonagall probably already knew that the Dursleys had refused to sign it. As for Percy, his comfort wasn't of much help.
"What's there to see in Hogsmeade, that miserable place?! There's only a candy shop and a shrieking shack, but the rest are just a few rooms and a few shops..."
Harry: Desolate.
...
At the early morning of Hogsmeade Open Day, Tom woke up as usual, went down to breakfast quickly with Hermione, and then followed the crowd to the entrance hall. Filch stood at the door, holding an extremely long list of names in his hand, scrutinizing each face critically, not overlooking anyone who shouldn't be there.
Tom and the two of them crossed the lawn to the main entrance of the school, where two dementors stood guard, causing a shiver in every young wizard passing by, but it could have been Tom's illusion as he felt the dementors pulling back slightly when he and Hermione walked past.
Hogsmeade wasn't far from Hogwarts. The morning frost still clung to the leaves as Tom and Hermione arrived there.
"Come on, our plan for the day is..." Hermione said, taking out a small notebook and starting to plan the day's itinerary.
On their way to Zonko's Joke Shop, Hermione's eyes caught sight of a clothing store.
It was a women's clothing store, with a transparent glass display window that showcased several mannequins in beautiful outfits, constantly changing poses to show off the most beautiful aspects of their garments.
She looked at the store's name and thought it was lovely.
Hermione instinctively felt that she should go inside and take a look. But she was about to step towards the women's store when she suddenly realized it might interfere with their plans.
She hesitated.
Tom read her thoughts, grabbed her hand, and walked straight into the store.
"Hey? Wait-"
"What are you waiting for? Come in and take a look!"
Hermione half-heartedly entered the clothing store.
"Welcome."
As soon as they entered the store, the shopkeeper greeted them warmly. When she reached Tom, her eyes lit up: the couple that had entered was very good-looking! The man was handsome, and the woman was beautiful and cute, and the key was that they both had the best temperament. From the way they walked together, they had that feeling of young high school love.
A love relationship like a green apple.
Watching them, the shopkeeper even thought of her first love in school when her face was red, her sheets were red, and her eyes were red.
"Did you bring your girlfriend here to buy clothes? Your girlfriend is very pretty," the shopkeeper said wholeheartedly.
The sentence made Hermione blush, she lowered her head and didn't dare to look at the shopkeeper. It was the first time someone had spoken aloud about their relationship, and it made Hermione feel very shy.
Tom held her hand a little tighter and kindly replied, "Yes, my girlfriend is the prettiest."
Hermione: o(////▽////)q
"Look at the dress first!" Tom interrupted the conversation, if they continued, Hermione would have to run towards the exit.
But although the shopkeeper was good at talking and had a keen eye, it was annoying to have a chatty tail behind them while they shopped.
"Ahem," Tom coughed dryly, "Ma'am, we won't bother you, carry on with your work, we'll just browse."
Though somewhat reluctant, the shopkeeper had the good sense to leave, leaving Tom and Hermione to browse the store together.
Without the stranger, Hermione visibly relaxed. She lightly nudged Tom, "Don't say that again, it's... weird... embarrassing."
Tom didn't move, but he put his hand on Hermione's shoulder and could feel the girl's body tense, as if she was stimulated.
"If I don't say that, what do you want me to say?"
Hermione stammered, unable to speak, just fidgeting with the clothes on the hanger.
Soon she realized the problem: the store didn't seem to specialize in the type of women's clothing she had in mind.
In her subconscious, it was supposed to be a place where all kinds of wizarding robes, belts, shoes, and such were sold, but these garments only occupied the exterior of the store. The vast central and inner area was all socks and underwear.
Hermione didn't dare to go beyond the shoes; her eyes noticed that the rest of the shelves seemed to be lingerie after that.
"Are your shoes size 35?" Tom asked, examining the shoes on the counter.
Hermione froze for a moment. "How do you know?"
Tom smiled. "Of course, I know."
"Pervert!" Hermione nudged Tom and looked at a pair of small black leather shoes. The shoes had a nice design, the usual girl's leather shoes, with three thin straps, each with a small metal buckle.
"16 Sickles and 28 Knuts!" Hermione's eyes narrowed. She hadn't expected these shoes to be so expensive. They cost almost a Galleon! One Galleon was seventeen Sickles, one Sickle was twenty-nine Knuts, and the difference between a Galleon and a pair of shoes was only one Knut.
She looked away, but Tom grabbed them.
"They look good. Don't you want to try them on?"
Hermione shook her head, but her microexpressions and body movements gave her away.
"Go try them on and see how they fit." Tom pushed Hermione and made her look behind her. "There's a stool over there, let's go!"
Persuaded by the magic coming from all sides, Hermione decided to try on the little leather shoes.
She sat on the stool and took off her wizarding robe to reveal a blue and white striped shirt with a small white leather bag tied at the waist and plain pants of the same tone at the bottom. The top two buttons of the shirt were unbuttoned, showing the difference between a girl and a little girl.
Hermione was no longer the little girl she had been. Now she looked more like a green apple.
She pulled up her pants, but Tom held onto her long, slender legs, and Hermione's pants had risen, revealing her white stockings and white boots. The boots had a small white fleece ring at the top, which looked furry and warm.
"Ah!" Hermione exclaimed softly, shaking her foot as it was being held. By then, Tom had unzipped the boots, revealing the speckled silk lining inside. Hermione's movement sent a wave of air that curled around Tom's nose with a stream of warmth.
The faint smell of sweat and leather enveloped in an ethereal aroma. The scent was not unfamiliar; it was Hermione's usual shower gel, which Tom had often smelled when he leaned over her. He even teased Hermione about it, saying she was "pickled in it."
"I... didn't do it on purpose!" Hermione struggled to pull her foot back, afraid that it might smell bad, and was glad she had showered before going out.
"Eh?" Tom hummed as if nothing had happened, and continued reaching out to try to catch the fleeing leg. Hermione arched her feet and touched the tip of Tom's nose.
"Don't go too far!" Then she lowered her voice, "We're outside...".
The girl squirmed, bent one leg, and took off the boots from her feet. Tom looking at her made her feel shy; it felt like there was a fire building up in her feet.
She lightly squeezed her toes, inserted her hand into the shoe, hooked her index finger around the heel, and pulled it up onto her foot. After doing the same with the other shoe, Hermione stood in front of Tom with her own boot in hand.
"Does it fit well?"
"Yes, is it okay?" Tom tilted his head thoughtfully. "But the socks don't match much..."
He wanted to say something. Hermione looked to the other side of the silk section and froze for a moment.
In that area, the mannequin models wore very little fabric. Of course, there were also several models with only one leg, and they were covered in intricately patterned fabrics.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, grabbed Tom by the ear, and scolded him in a low voice, "Tom Yodel! Shameless! You... you!"
The vague and hazy garments, with their intricate lacework and tulle ribbons, made Hermione blush just by looking at them.
"But it's very pretty..." Tom murmured, "Hermione, you're very tight, loosen up, it hurts!"
Upon hearing what he said, Hermione loosened her grip on his hand and let him go.
The two took a step forward and approached the section.
Hermione grumbled as she looked at the mannequin displaying the fabric from the wizarding world.
"I see, our Lord Yodel is shameless, only thinking about... these things." She grabbed a pair of stockings, looked at the cutout floral pattern on them, and sharply turned her head to look at Tom.
"Do you like them?"
Tom remained silent for a moment.
"Yes."
"Good." Hermione grabbed one of the stockings, straightened her feet, her skillful fingers kept the opening of the stocking open, then pulled it up a couple of times and slid it over her precious toes. With a welcome and a stretch, the stockings went up Hermione's calves.
Once they were on, she stood up and twirled around.
"Isn't it pretty?"
"This is only yours."
She said.