The next morning, the Great Hall was filled with the usual breakfast chatter when an owl swooped in, a crimson letter clutched in its talons. All eyes followed as it descended upon Ron Weasley, dropping the ominous red envelope into his startled hands.
"A Howler!" Ron exclaimed, recognizing the dreaded letter instantly. It seemed he was no stranger to these vocal reprimands.
He stared at the letter, his hands trembling as he hesitated to open it. The Howler began to swell and emit smoke, prompting Neville Longbottom, who sat beside him, to speak up. "Ron, you really should open it. Leaving it like that will only make things worse!"
"..."
Do you think I don't know that? Ron's lips twitched. With a visible gulp, he reached for the letter, his fingers fumbling.
Rip...
The seal tore, and a voice erupted: "RON WEASLEY!!! How dare you fly that car without permission! Your behavior is utterly disgraceful! Your father is now under investigation by the Ministry of Magic! And this is all your fault!!! If you make one more mistake, I will yank you out of Hogwarts immediately and bring you home myself!... Oh, Ginny dear, congratulations on entering Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud of you."
Mrs. Weasley's voice, amplified and furious, echoed through the hall, unleashing a torrent of abuse on Ron before switching to a saccharine tone for Ginny. Then, with a final shriek, the letter shattered into pieces that drifted away like crimson confetti.
Ginny Weasley, mortified by the public display, lowered her head, her cheeks burning with shame. Ron, meanwhile, was utterly stunned. When I go home for the holidays, I'm dead. Maybe I can crash with one of my Death Eater buddies for a while?
Tom Riddle, who had been observing Ron's misfortune with detached interest, was, of course, unaware of the boy's... plans.
...
That afternoon found the young wizards assembled in Greenhouse Three, just outside the castle. It was time for Herbology, taught by Professor Sprout, with Tom relegated to the role of observer. The students, usually listless in other classes, were unusually animated, enjoying the fresh air despite the smells of damp earth and fertilizer. Today's class was a combination of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs.
"We have already discussed the characteristics of Mandrakes," Professor Sprout announced. "Today, we will be repotting Mandrake seedlings. Can anyone tell me what precautions must be taken when handling Mandrakes?"
Several Slytherins and a few Hufflepuffs raised their hands. Professor Sprout scanned the eager faces before settling on a particular young badger. "Hannah Abbott, please answer."
Hannah Abbott, ever diligent, replied nervously, "You must wear earmuffs. You can't hear the Mandrake's cry, because that sound can be fatal."
"Very correct. Hufflepuff, ten points!" Professor Sprout beamed with pride. "Now, come forward and collect your earmuffs. They are all in this dragon-hide pouch."
As the students scurried to collect their earmuffs, Tom Riddle muttered, "It would be simpler to block out your hearing."
Professor Sprout couldn't help but retort, "Professor Tom, aside from yourself, who else is capable of doing that?"
Tom Riddle replied matter-of-factly, "Albus Dumbledore can do it, too."
"..."
Professor Sprout rolled her eyes, somewhat annoyed. "I am talking about these students. Which one of them can do it?"
"My student, Cassandra Vole, can." Tom Riddle remained utterly at ease. He had already taught his apprentice the trick of magically blocking her senses.
"..."
Professor Sprout decided she was done speaking. Tom Riddle, seeing her reaction, allowed himself a faint smile.
Once the students had their earmuffs securely in place, Professor Sprout instructed them to work in pairs to repot the Mandrake seedlings. Cassandra Vole was paired with a Slytherin girl. Though they didn't usually interact, they managed to cooperate, using simple hand gestures to communicate. Strangely, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, despite their long-standing friendship, were surprisingly uncoordinated. One dug up one person's Mandrake, the other dug up the other's, and by the time they realized their mistake, they had four Mandrakes between them.
The two stared at the squirming plants, a mutual sense of apology passing between them, before hastily cramming the Mandrakes into a single pot and covering them with soil.
Suddenly, a "thump" sounded behind them. They turned to see a young Slytherin wizard collapsed on the ground.
"What happened?" Professor Sprout rushed over, kneeling to examine the boy. "The earmuffs are in place... perfectly in place. What could be the problem?" She frowned, puzzled.
Tom Riddle patted her on the shoulder and gestured that he would escort the boy to the school infirmary.
"Thank you," Professor Sprout said, looking at Tom Riddle gratefully.
Tom Riddle ignored her gratitude, simply took out his Elder Wand, and gently levitated the fallen wizard. The wizard floated into the air, and Tom Riddle glided out of Greenhouse Three, his unconscious burden trailing behind him.
After all the students had finished repotting their Mandrakes, Professor Sprout said, "There's still some time left. I'll introduce you to another magical plant."
Seeing that the students had removed their earmuffs, Professor Sprout gestured them to follow her.
They arrived at a potted plant that shook slightly: a Fluttering Bush.
"This is the Fluttering Bush. It blooms only once a century. Because of its trembling flowers and enchanting scent, many wizards like to keep them as decoration in their homes."
"Interestingly, the Fluttering Bush changes scent to attract people. Some say they smell the sea, fresh parchment, or a crackling campfire… What do you smell?"
Hearing Professor Sprout's question, the students began calling out the scents they perceived. Draco Malfoy quietly pulled Harry Potter aside and whispered, "Scarface, what do you smell?"
Harry Potter, feigning ecstasy, exclaimed, "I smell power and authority!"
"Be serious!" Draco Malfoy snapped, slapping Harry Potter's arm in annoyance.
"The smell of Tom Riddle's office." Harry Potter answered honestly.
Draco Malfoy blinked. "This stuff makes you smell your favorite scents... Do you think that's what they put in love potions?"
"Possibly." Harry Potter stroked his chin, answering with mock solemnity.
Professor Sprout continued, "To trim it requires a spell—'Shatter to Pieces'—and the wand movement is..."
After the demonstration, it was nearly time for class to end. "Go practice, and next class we'll try trimming the Fluttering Bush."