Hannah tried to picture it: a squad of chubby, identical Santa golems in matching red suits, marching in perfect unison down the Hogwarts corridors. She imagined them busting into dorm rooms to hand-deliver presents.
"Pfft." The visual alone was enough to make her crack up.
"That would be hilarious," she said. "And honestly, getting a gift personally delivered by Santa Claus? Nobody would ever forget that. If you actually pull this off, I want to be your very first customer."
[You bet,] Tom signed, tilting his head proudly while the tip of his tail gave a smug little flick.
[Since you're so hyped about it, I guess I'll put my back into it. Let's see if I can get a prototype running before Christmas!]
"I can't wait. But wait, can your golem deliver to the Leaky Cauldron? I'm heading home to spend the holidays with my family."
[...It's a bit of a stretch, but I can probably make it work with a little tinkering.] Tom sighed mentally, staring at her hopeful eyes.
Did she really just hand me a massive pile of extra homework? he grumbled to himself. Still, since most of the students were heading home for the break, having "Santa" randomly pop up in their living rooms would be legendary.
Maybe he could program the golems to Apparate? Tom started mentally sketching out the runic arrays.
"Wait, are you telling me you and Ron are both staying at Hogwarts for Christmas?!" Draco's shocked voice suddenly echoed from a few feet away.
"Yeah. I don't want to go back to that house. I don't even want to look at them," Harry muttered, his face twisting in disgust. "They don't give a damn about me anyway. They only care about Dudley."
"I wanted to go home, but..." Ron waved a crumpled letter his family's owl had dropped off that morning. "Mum and Dad are heading to Romania to visit Charlie. Even if I went back, the house would be empty."
"I'm better off staying here," Ron continued. "Percy, Fred, and George are stuck here too. At least if I'm at school, I don't have to watch Percy polish his stupid Prefect badge in front of Mum all day."
Ron had looked pretty bummed at first, but the sheer joy of dodging Percy's ego trip had quickly brightened his mood.
"Ugh—" Draco ground his teeth, glaring at the two Gryffindor misfits whispering together. He felt absolutely sick with jealousy.
He wanted to stay at Hogwarts and hang out with Harry too! But it had been six months since he'd seen his parents. Family was important, and unless Lucius strictly forbade it, Draco wanted to go home for the holidays.
"Damn it! Don't think you've won just because you get him for a few days over Christmas! The title of Harry's best friend is mine!" Draco yelled before spinning on his heel and sprinting away.
"What is his problem?" Harry asked, completely bewildered.
"No clue," Ron said, looking just as lost. Neither of them had the faintest idea what was going through the Slytherin's head.
Ah, to be young, Tom thought, watching the awkward kids bicker from afar. Their dramatic, angsty energy made him a little nostalgic for his own "glorious" past.
Back in the day, he and Jerry hadn't been on such friendly terms. Sure, Tom had put in the work to change Jerry's opinion of him—mostly proving he wasn't going to actually eat him—but some things were just hardwired into their DNA.
Every time they crossed paths, Tom had to initiate a chase sequence just to keep Jerry from preemptively attacking. They'd tear up the house, both taking their fair share of hits, before Tom inevitably won by a razor-thin margin.
Of course, Tom always knew when to pull his punches. Once he caught the mouse, his only demand was that Jerry help clean up the wrecked living room. Then, Tom would intentionally leave an opening, letting Jerry make a daring escape. He never allowed the script to flip to a brutal counterattack.
But that one Christmas had been different.
Like any normal holiday, Tom had decided to strike first. He figured if he beat Jerry up early, the mouse would behave, and Tom could actually enjoy a peaceful Christmas morning.
What Tom hadn't counted on was Jerry having the exact same idea.
Because Jerry had been on a losing streak, his winter food stash was looking pathetic. Desperate for a good holiday feast, the mouse decided to launch a full-scale raid on the kitchen.
Jerry's master plan? He stripped a miniature Santa suit off a doll, built a tiny sleigh out of cardboard, and hijacked a few unlucky pigeons to act as reindeer. He was going to fly through the mail slot on the front door.
The idea was to use the festive disguise to catch the stupid cat off guard. While Tom was distracted by the holiday magic, Jerry would knock him out and loot the house blind.
But as Jerry prepped his raid, he remembered that Tom hadn't actually been that awful to him lately. So, in a rare moment of mercy, Jerry decided to only steal half the food, leaving the cat enough to enjoy his holiday too.
On Christmas Eve, "Santa" Jerry rode his pigeon-drawn carriage toward the mail slot. The plan was flawless in theory. In practice, however, things went south immediately.
He got stuck in the mail slot.
Jerry couldn't figure it out. He squeezed through that gap all the time! He had been starving for weeks; he should have been skinnier! Why was he wedged halfway through the door?
Just as Jerry accepted his fate and braced for Tom's inevitable torture, a weird noise echoed from the fireplace. A second later, a feline head wearing the exact same Santa outfit popped out of the chimney.
Clearly, Tom had shared his brain cell. The cat was also dressed as Santa, also riding a makeshift sleigh, and most importantly... also hopelessly stuck.
Jerry was wedged in the front door with his ass freezing in the winter wind, while Tom was jammed in the chimney. At least the cat didn't have to worry about frostbite.
It was a true testament to their dysfunctional brotherhood that they managed to fail in the exact same way.
After an exhausting struggle of kicking and wriggling, they both broke free. Seeing each other in matching suits, they both assumed the other was actually there to deliver a present. Looking slightly embarrassed, they handed over the brightly wrapped gift boxes they had prepped.
Of course, "embarrassed" didn't override their survival instincts. They both knew the rule: strike first.
They popped the lids at the exact same time. Two identical, spring-loaded boxing gloves shot out, clocking them both square in the face. They hit the floor simultaneously, staring at each other in utter disbelief.
Ah, the beautiful innocence of youth, Tom mused fondly.
Jokes and boxing gloves aside, they really had prepared genuine gifts for each other. After waking up on the floor, they awkwardly shoved the prank boxes away and brought out the real presents.
Tom had tied a red ribbon around a premium block of cheese. Jerry had managed to scrounge up a tin of canned fish for Tom.
They shared a look, then sprawled out side-by-side on the rug in front of the fireplace. Listening to the quiet hum of the record player, they spent a lazy, peaceful winter afternoon eating the food the other had prepared.
That Christmas was the turning point. It was the moment their bitter rivalry morphed into the weird, unspoken friendship they had now.
(And it was absolutely, definitely not because Jerry had actually wrapped up fermented Swedish herring, and Tom had gifted him rotting blue cheese! Definitely not!)
"Tom? Earth to Tom?"
A voice yanked him back to reality. Tom blinked. Harry, Hannah, and the others were hovering over him, looking concerned. "You okay? You just totally spaced out."
[I'm fine,] Tom signed, burying the memories back down. [Just thinking about the past. Reminiscing about an old friend.]
"An old friend? Was it that mouse?" Harry asked eagerly. He remembered seeing Tom and Jerry's chaotic dynamic in the Mirror of Erised.
"A mouse? Your friend is a mouse?!" Hannah stared at him, completely floored. She hadn't heard the Mirror story. "But Tom, you're a cat!"
[Yeah, that's the guy. Wonder how the little menace is doing,] Tom signed, shaking his head. [I just hope it's not too cold wherever he is. I'd hate for some random predator to eat him like a furry popsicle.]
Far away, deep in a dense, freezing forest, Jerry let out a violent sneeze.
He rubbed his tiny nose and cast a suspicious glare in the general direction of Hogwarts. (I feel like somebody is talking trash about me. It's gotta be Tom.)
He desperately wanted to track the cat down and remind him who was really in charge. But Jerry glanced down at the massive serpent coiled beneath him and sighed.
(Whatever. I'll deal with him after you finish hibernating,) Jerry thought.
It wasn't every day he found a decent lackey—especially one that didn't immediately try to eat him, just like Tom. He wasn't about to abandon his new scaly minion in the freezing woods.
Back at Hogwarts, Hannah offered a weak smile, oblivious to Jerry's current snake-sitting gig. She had assumed Tom meant another neighborhood pet, or maybe even Luna. She never expected a literal mouse.
A cat and a mouse being best friends? How did that even work?
If Tom had known what she was thinking, he would have rolled his eyes. What century was she living in? Cats and mice could absolutely be bros.
"Speaking of which, Tom, are you heading home for Christmas?" Hannah asked, changing the subject. "It's been half a year. Luna and her dad must miss you like crazy."
[Ah... about that...] Tom's expression stiffened.
Sure, Xenophilius had probably missed him during the first few weeks. But now? Tom grimaced as he remembered the look of pure, unadulterated annoyance Xenophilius had shot him when he popped into the Lovegood house last night.
It made sense. The Lovegoods had braced themselves for an empty nest. But instead of staying at school, Tom was constantly teleporting back to crash their dinners. Xenophilius was losing his mind.
The man's letter that morning hadn't outright said it, but the subtext was loud and clear: Stay at school. Stop ruining my alone time. Especially since Luna is leaving for Hogwarts next year—I want to enjoy some one-on-one time with my wife!
Obviously, Tom wasn't going to admit he was basically a furry third wheel. So, he made up an excuse.
[I'd love to go back, but I've got way too much on my plate here. Ariana's Obscurus research, the alchemy golems, and figuring out your Santa delivery service. I'm swamped.]
"Hold on, a Santa delivery service? What is that?" Harry and Ron immediately latched onto the most interesting part of the conversation.
[Well, the rough idea is...]
Tom quickly pitched the concept. By the time he finished, the boys were practically buzzing with excitement. Hermione looked the most thrilled of all.
Sure, she was the brilliant, logical know-it-all, but she was still just an eleven-year-old girl. No one understood the sheer heartbreak she'd felt when her Muggle dad sat her down and told her Santa wasn't real. Her entire world had shattered that day.
But now? A literal Santa Claus could hand-deliver her a gift. Even if it was just an alchemy golem built by a magical cat, it was still Santa! Imagine the look on her dad's face when a magical Kris Kringle materialized in their living room!
"I want to pre-order a Santa!" Hermione demanded instantly.
[Hold your hippogriffs, it's just a concept—] Tom signed, suddenly stressed.
Hadn't Hermione said she was going home for the holidays? How the hell was he supposed to intercept a postal owl, steal Hermione's gift, hand it to a golem, and teleport the golem into a Muggle household?!
"Put me down for one too!"
"You can't cut us out of a goldmine like this!"
Just as Tom was starting to panic, a chorus of voices rang out behind him.
Draco had materialized, looking incredibly eager. Right beside him, Fred and George were practically vibrating with capitalist energy. "Whatever the logistics are, we can help you build them!"
"We can totally drag Professor Flamel into this! We guarantee we can have the Santa Mark I ready for mass market by Christmas Eve!"
"Just one Sickle guarantees a personal delivery from Santa Claus himself! How's that for a marketing pitch?!"
"The demand is going to be astronomical!"
"We're going to be swimming in Galleons!"
"It's settled! We're officially venture capitalists backing this startup!"
Before Tom could even get a word in, the Weasley twins had completely hijacked the project and locked in the business model.