Hogwarts: Hermione and I switched identities!

Mrs. Granger covered her mouth as she watched Tom leave.

My daughter has grown up...

Hermione is like a little model now; maybe I should enroll her in a modeling training class.

Hogwarts...that magic is awful! Hermione would definitely be a great model if it weren't for magic!

"Granger!" Mrs. Granger heard the children calling Hermione's name. She went over and saw two children huddled together beside Hermione.

Is that annoying person trying to bully Hermione again?

Mrs. Granger frowned and was about to step forward with a cold expression, but she overheard their conversation.

"Granger, you look beautiful today!"

"Are you going to have your picture taken? Could I see you in a London modeling portfolio tomorrow?"

"Granger, are you free? We have three amusement park tickets, my brother gave them to me. If you have time..."

Tom raised his hand: "Sorry, I have to go to the library today. I'll do it next time."

They saw Tom's big backpack, which was full of things: "Hey, you can study anytime, but the amusement park is a one-time thing. If you come with us, we'll be very proud—I mean, you're so pretty, the other kids will envy us if you're with us."

Tom frowned: "Do you think there's a lot of time to study? It takes half a week to read a three-inch-thick book, and you need to read it at least twice to fully understand it!"

There are only 48 weeks in a year, which means you can only thoroughly study 48 books a year. I need to study junior high for 7 years, which adds up to just over 300 books. Time is very tight!

Tom was afraid of Voldemort.

He was constantly worried that the psychopath Voldemort would not allow anyone else with the same name as him to exist, and would then come and kill him.

“Okay, then…maybe we can go to the library with you?” One of the children felt that even in the library, having such a pretty girl by his side would still attract attention.

Unfortunately, Tom still refused.

The reason Tom didn't practice at home was because he was worried that Mrs. Granger would discover he wasn't Hermione.

After saying goodbye to the group, Tom stopped at a convenience store along the way and bought some food.

He now has a huge appetite, and the food Mrs. Granger prepared is simply not enough to provide the energy his body needs.

Tom arrived at the library, found a private room by himself, closed the door, and began practicing magic.

After two days of getting to know each other, Tom understood why every wizard needed their own suitable wand.

Tom always felt a sense of unease whenever he waved Hermione's wand.

The sense of incongruity isn't obvious, but it's like eating potato chips without ketchup or tofu pudding without sugar—it works, but it feels strange, and using magic often feels like you're powerless.

Having a suitable wand might make things much easier and more convenient!

Time flies when you're in the library; it was already evening in the blink of an eye.

Tom rubbed his eyes; they were tired from reading all day. He leaned back in his chair, imagining Hermione's life on the other side.

……

Saint Redia Welfare Home.

"Thank you for your help today, teacher." The short Sheen bowed respectfully to Hermione and watched her leave.

"I'll come again tomorrow." Hermione looked at the book in Sheen's hand. She wanted to ask Sheen if she could borrow the spellbook, but she couldn't bring herself to say it and left.

As Hermione suspected, the Middlesbrough family consisted entirely of Muggles, except for Sheehan.

However, what was unexpected was that Mr. Michelangelo.

He was neither a Muggle nor a wizard, but a Squib—a Squib being someone born into a wizarding family but without any magical abilities, the opposite of a Muggle-born wizard.

Mr. Michelangelo left his family and came to live alone in London. Fortunately, he is still quite intelligent and is now working as a doctor.

With her paycheck for the day, Hermione returned to the orphanage.

She gave half of the money to the adults at the orphanage, instructing them not to neglect the food, as these children need nutrition to grow.

Then Hermione sat on the bank of the Seychelles River, letting her legs dangle in the water, which submerged her calves.

Hermione looked at her reflection in the lake.

Her face was so delicate that there wasn't a single flaw. Although her hair on the sides was short, the curls at the back were tied into a small ponytail.

I've been using this body for three days now.

Without a wand, Hermione can use some simple, lightweight magic, but it's difficult for her to go any further.

And she never imagined that a boy's body would be like this—she didn't know why there was one...

In short, it's a bit inconvenient to move around, and taking a shower is also somewhat difficult.

However, Tom's health also has some benefits.

Hermione's muscular physique made her feel light and agile in her daily activities.

Hermione shook her head, turning her attention away from the body.

Her top priority now is to find a way to contact Professor Dumbledore, tell him everything that has happened here, and tell him everything that has happened to her!

Hermione is very anxious because Hogwarts will be starting soon.

Tom Riddle himself has been doing all that over there, and his parents will find out eventually.

"Tom."

A voice sounded behind Hermione.

Hermione raised her head and looked up at the person behind her, who was Parkin Lawrence.

"Is there something you need?" Hermione didn't intend to acknowledge the person who came in; she had a very bad impression of Lawrence.

"I'm leaving." Lawrence sat down next to Hermione and, mimicking Hermione's action, put his calves into the lake water, but the immediate chill made him shiver, and he barely managed to keep his feet from coming out.

Lawrence looked at Tom: "Actually... I've always envied, no, I've been jealous of you. You know how much I hate you?"

“I hate you just as much.” Hermione pouted. “You’re always inexplicably proud, but I don’t know what you’re proud of.”

Lawrence remained unmoved and gave a self-deprecating laugh: "I'm different from you. I have parents, but they've passed away."

Before I entered the orphanage, I was considered a young master; my father was the manager of a bank. But then some things happened.” Lawrence lowered his head, looking dejected. “I can’t be like you, smiling at everyone and showing everyone my gentle side. So, I’m jealous of you.”

Hermione waved her hand: "I'm not interested in your affairs. When you leave, maybe we can have a nice meal together. I haven't had flower cakes in a long time."

"With your current salary, you can afford to eat flower cakes whenever you want, right?"

“My money is useful,” Hermione said.

She has too many expenses.

If—just if—Hermione wondered, if she could only use this body for the rest of her life, how could she possibly return to Hogwarts?

Before that, she needed to save enough money to buy textbooks, a magic wand...

“Okay, I… I just came to tell you, Tom. Do you know how elegant you are right now? I’ve seen a lot of girls before I entered the orphanage—I mean real girls, not kids like Misha.”

Your movements are very similar to theirs, and you've changed a lot these past few days; you're more like a sharp-tongued girl than Tom Riddle.

Hermione suddenly stopped moving.

Was Lawrence's observational skills really that good?

However, Hermione didn't admit it aloud: "You're just imagining things."

“I didn’t come here today to talk about these things.” Lawrence stood up, reached into his pocket and took out a wad of crumpled banknotes. “I can sense that you are not from our world.”

Even Mr. Michelangelo's gaze towards you was filled with longing. Mr. Michelangelo said you desperately need money, and the reason he lowered himself to tutor Sheen was because he needed money; this is all the money I've saved over the years."

£117.32 pence.

It has both whole and odd amounts.

“I’m leaving tonight. Mr. Michelangelo said we need to move to a different place. London isn’t right for us. He wants to get away from you… no, away from all of you.”

Hermione watched the other person's departing figure, put the money in her pocket, and continued to swing her legs in the lake.

Lawrence looked back once after leaving.

He saw Hermione's little braid tied behind her back, her appearance, her movements, and the way she looked at him...

Lawrence's face flushed slightly.

But he suddenly slapped himself!

"Parkinson, Parkinson, calm down, Parkinson! He's a man, no matter how much his actions and expressions resemble a woman's, he's still a man!"

At dinner, Hermione didn't see Lawrence. She knew he had left. Mr. Michelangelo had donated a large sum of gold pounds to the orphanage in Lawrence's name, enough for the children to stay warm throughout the winter.

Perhaps I should work harder for my future.

Hermione looked at the moon in the sky.

Evenings shouldn't be wasted.

She needs more pounds to exchange for Galleons.

Hermione could also go to Tom and get her wand and textbooks back—but she couldn't be sure if he would deny it outright.

What if Tom just won't give it to him?

She wanted to have a backup plan.

That night, Hermione knocked on the Middlesbrough's door and asked Sheehan if he would like to have extra lessons in the evening, in which she could teach him more magic.

Unsurprisingly, Sheen agreed.

……

The remote Scottish Highlands.

At a magic school called Hogwarts.

The white-bearded old man held a letter in his hand—a letter that had never been sent.

The address on the envelope was clearly visible in the faint moonlight.

115 Magpie Lane, London, St. Redia Welfare Home Warehouse.

Recipient: Tom Riddell.

The old man hesitated whether or not to send the letter.