Draco had been waiting outside for a long time, tucked away in the shadows like a guilty thief.
After what felt like forever, Hermione finally stepped out of her room. She walked straight to the door, opened it, and let out a sharp whistle.
Mira swooped down from the sky and landed on her outstretched hand.
"Weasleys' house. For Hermione Granger. Wait for his reply."
The owl took the message, flapped its wings, and soared into the night sky.
Hermione went back inside to rest.
Hidden in the dark, Draco clamped a hand over his mouth.
He had just overheard something he was never supposed to hear.
It was Hermione.
It was Hermione.
It was Hermione!
So that was the kind of feeling Tom had for her?
Well… it made sense. Childhood friends (supposedly), plus that very public dance at the Christmas ball. Anyone with a heart would've been moved by now.
That night, Draco didn't sleep a wink. He couldn't figure out where exactly he had lost.
Hermione and Isabelle… was failure just his destiny?
The light that was Isabelle had appeared right in front of him—only to slip through his fingers before he could even grab it.
He lay there staring at the ceiling until the birds outside started singing. Only then did he finally drift off.
---
At the same time, at the Burrow.
A fluffy owl landed on the windowsill.
Tom spotted it and quickly pressed a finger to his lips—shhh. He didn't want to wake Ginny.
He hurried downstairs and untied the letter from the owl's leg.
[Annoying Tom,
As I write this, I am Hermione—]
Blah blah blah!
Tom skipped straight past the useless rant and went straight to the important part.
[balabala—You absolute jerk! Why didn't you keep writing in the diary? How am I supposed to know what to do when I swap into your body? At least tell me what you've been doing these past few days!
And why didn't you warn me that Draco was going to propose to Isabelle? He literally dragged me along! Do you have any idea how awkward that was?!
I hate you (big ink blot).]
Tom scratched the back of his head.
What was with that massive ink stain? Had she pressed the quill so hard the emotions literally bled through the page?
As for the diary… yeah, he had completely forgotten.
Should he write back and tell her to go to the Momo Mountain Range?
Nah.
Hermione didn't have the same knack for handling magical creatures. If she went near that fire dragon, Tom was more worried she would piss it off than the other way around.
And those ancient runes on the wall…
Tom wasn't ready to let her near those yet. Dangerous stuff was better handled by him.
Once he mastered it and his power jumped… well, that was his problem to worry about.
"Hermione, letter from a friend?"
"Mmm-hmm," Tom answered absently.
Mrs. Weasley woke up early every day. She treated time like it was about to run out and the world would end if she slept five extra minutes.
"How lovely. When I was your age, I had so many friends at school. Every holiday we'd all write each other like mad. Even when we were far apart, we could still feel how much we cared. Isn't that right, Hermione?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. You're absolutely right."
If Hermione hadn't used words like "annoying Tom," he might've felt a little happier about it.
"Would you like some paper and a quill to write back?"
"Thank you, ma'am."
Mrs. Weasley brought him what he needed. She was the thoughtful type—she didn't peek at what he was writing. She stayed a respectful distance away, already busy preparing breakfast.
Once Tom finished the letter and sent the owl off, Mrs. Weasley went upstairs and dragged Ron down by the ear for breakfast.
Ron looked half-asleep every single morning, like he'd never had a full night's rest in his life.
Mrs. Weasley's temper flared instantly. Out came the classic line.
"Look at Hermione!"
---
The letter arrived at Malfoy Manor.
Hermione snatched the envelope excitedly and started reading while eating her breakfast sandwich.
She didn't notice Draco had just come out of the bathroom and was quietly walking past behind her.
Draco's eyes drifted over the page.
He didn't catch much—just the opening line.
[Dear Tom, my darling—
—]
Draco: "?"
His entire world collapsed.
He felt like every bit of light had been sucked out of his life.
The Hermione Fan Club… suddenly felt completely pointless.
The blow was worse than getting the lowest score in every single subject at Hogwarts.
Hermione finished the whole letter.
Tom had written a ton of nonsense. Way too much. Insanely too much!
In the end, there was only one useful sentence.
[I hope you can manage your own time.]
What was she supposed to do with her time? Sit around chatting with Malfoy all day?!
What was there even to talk about with him?
Hermione slumped forward, chin in her hands. She was so bored. She just wanted time to hurry up and pass already.
---
Momo Mountain Range.
One day. Two days. Three days—
Galo had lost count of how many days she had waited.
Every morning she brought back a fresh, tender sheep, but that boy never showed up again.
A full week had passed.
Galo let out a long sigh, hot breath rolling from her massive jaws.
She shifted her body and pushed herself to her feet.
It was time for a bath.
She left the cave with dull, lifeless eyes.
Not long after she was gone, a boy dropped from the sky.
Tom—back in his own body—landed inside the crater.
Strange.
Where was Galo?
Slacking off, huh?
Tom had already guessed why she stayed here in the first place—to guard the secret carved into the wall.
Now she was nowhere to be seen. Or rather, no dragon to be seen.
He set down the human pastries he'd brought today and started flipping through the history books he'd borrowed from Hogwarts, comparing them to the runes on the wall, hoping for any clue.
About half an hour later, Galo came flying back.
From a distance she spotted a figure standing in front of the stone wall.
Enemy?
Galo's brows furrowed. She dove straight down, fire already gathering in her mouth. She was seconds away from turning the rude intruder to ash when she finally recognized the face.
Tom—
"You're back? What for?!" Galo roared in her own dragon tongue.
"You scared me!" Tom spun around. "You could've warned me before popping up and yelling like that—wait, why do you feel even hotter than usual?"
Galo had no intention of admitting she'd been charging up a fireball and had almost blasted him to bits.
"None of your business," she snorted. "Keep studying your stupid scribbles. It's not like you'll ever understand them anyway!"
Whether human or dragon, no one truly appreciates what they have. While Tom was gone, Galo had kept telling herself that if he ever came back, she would finally teach him what the ancient runes meant.
But now that he was actually standing in front of her, she suddenly didn't want to.
Deep down, she had this nagging feeling that once Tom finally deciphered the runes… he would never come back again.
"Galo, can you really read this stuff?" Tom pointed at the wall. "I can't even guess what kind of creature could be smart enough to understand writing like this. Honestly, I'm jealous. If I were half as clever, I'd probably have accomplished something by now instead of still being some nobody wizard."
Galo puffed up proudly. "Humans are like that! Wizards too! Of course you're not all-powerful. This stuff is actually really simple. I could read it the day I was born. But that man still took forever to learn even a little of our language. And even then, he could only write such ugly characters!"
Tom kept his face carefully surprised. "Wait… this is dragon script?"
Of course, Tom already knew.
He had found an old book in the Restricted Section with a faded magical photograph and a short description of dragon writing.
He was just testing her.
Dragons were proud creatures—especially smart ones like Galo. They rarely bothered lying.
If Galo said she could read it, then she could read it!
She had no reason to deceive him.
So Tom looked at her with new eyes.
Dragon script.
He had searched the entire Restricted Section before finding even one small mention of it.
To this day, almost no one had ever seen dragon writing, let alone deciphered it.
Tom had gotten lucky.
He kept pushing. "Is there any way to free you from here?"
Galo paused, then gave him a look like he was an idiot. "Of course there's no Sword in the Stone. What even is that? A sword stuck in a rock? Merlin did come here once. That dirty old man didn't just visit—he left me here! So now I can never leave. I have to guard these secrets forever. No evil wizard is ever getting their hands on them!"
Tom ignored the whole "secrets" part and cut straight to what mattered. "Is there any way to get you out of here?"
The second Tom asked about her freedom instead of Merlin's stupid secrets, Galo's expression softened a little. "At least you've got a conscience. But forget it. It's been too many years. I can't go back to the outside world anyway. I might as well stay here. One day at a time… until I die, or until the world ends. Whatever comes first."
Galo yawned. "That's it. You keep working on it. I can teach you dragon script, but you have to promise me one thing."
"Name it!"
"If you ever figure out these secrets, I want you to come visit me at least once a month. No—three months. Every three months. And bring food, obviously. And help me with a bath and brush my teeth. That's not too much to ask, is it?"
Tom patted her huge claw. "I promise I'll come see you at least once a month. You have my word, my friend."
"Who said anything about being—about being friends with a wizard?! Get your hand off me right now! I swore I would never let a wizard touch me!"
"What about during bath time—?"
Galo muttered, "During bath time I pretend you're just a human, not a wizard. Because you don't use magic to clean me. I hate magic. Every time I see you wizards using it, I think of that annoying old man Merlin!"
Tom felt a chill run down his spine.
What the hell had Merlin done to her back then?
He pulled his hand back. "So… you'll teach me the rest?"
"Didn't I already start?" Galo looked confused. "Isn't that enough?"
Tom gave her a flat look. "You only taught me two characters. And they were just the signature—"
"Ah— I thought you'd forgotten those two already. Two characters a day is plenty. We're done for today."
Tom: "Hey! The sun just came up! Why are you going back to sleep?!"
"Sorry. In the dragon world there's no day or night. We sleep when we're tired and eat when we're hungry. That's just how we are. Figure it out yourself."
Galo closed her eyes and completely ignored Tom's shouting.
Mission accomplished.
Two characters a day meant she could keep him coming back for at least half a year!
Unless the idiot somehow taught himself dragon script on his own.
But that was impossible!
Even Merlin himself had never fully mastered it. He had begged and begged until Mother finally agreed to turn that spell into dragon script. Then Merlin had carved it himself.
Come to think of it… she hadn't seen that annoying old man in a very long time.
Dead?
Good. Merlin had no business still existing in this world. Just looking at him made her angry!
While thinking this, Galo secretly cracked one eye open and glanced at the boy in front of her.
Tom wasn't that annoying. For a human, he was probably one of the better-looking ones—
Too bad he was still just a human. If only he had been a dragon too.
A fire dragon, preferably.
Unfortunately, Tom would always be human.
---
When Galo woke up, it was already evening.
Just like she'd said—dragons had no sense of time.
To these fragile wizards, a hundred years meant white hair and a body ready for the grave.
But a hundred years was nothing to a dragon. Their lives contained many, many centuries.
"So? Figure anything out yet?" Galo shifted, trying to get more comfortable as she spoke.
"Mmm… I've made a bit of progress."
Galo: "I told you dragon script isn't that easy. Just wait until tomorrow—wait, what did you just say? You understood it?!"