[(￣▽￣)* Easy there. You brought loads of snacks, right? Share some and I'll forgive you]
Tom's face split into a smug, mission accomplished grin as he lounged comfortably in Hannah's arms.
He really had no other choice.
Right now, he was a penniless, pitiful Cat.
Before leaving home, Luna had gently offered to split her pocket money with him, her silvery eyes sincere and unconcerned. But the Lovegood family had already bought all of his school supplies—robes, books, wand accessories, even extra parchment. Asking for more, especially from Luna herself, made Tom feel inexplicably ashamed. So he'd declined with what he thought was admirable restraint.
The result?
He had successfully enrolled at Hogwarts… and somehow ended up even poorer than Ron Weasley.
At least Ron had siblings to mooch off.
Tom had dignity.
Still, dignity didn't fill an empty stomach.
So when a ready-made, well-fed pure-blood heiress walked right up to him with a bag full of snacks and sparkling eyes, Tom seized the opportunity without hesitation.
'Huh? That's all?'
Hannah Abbott blinked, clearly surprised. Her light brown eyes shimmered with interest rather than annoyance.
'If that's all you want,' she said cheerfully, leaning closer, 'then if I pay for every snack you'll ever want, can I pet you whenever I like? (≧ᗜ≦)'
She said it so naturally, so earnestly, that Tom nearly choked on his own confidence.
Faced with Tom's tiny act of "extortion," this pure-blood heiress—whose allowance clearly exceeded all reasonable expectations—immediately began thinking long-term.
Snacks were consumable. Petting rights were renewable.
From her point of view, this was an excellent deal.
[Well… we'll see, we'll see!]
Tom waved a paw dismissively, trying to keep his composure.
'(╯°□°)╯ What the heck?! I just wanted free snacks, and now you want me to sell my body?!'
He laughed loudly, deliberately exaggerating his reaction. No way—absolutely no way—was he accepting that kind of contract.
He declared with dramatic flair that in life, he was Luna's Cat; in death, he would be Luna's ghost-Cat. Compared to his ethereal, dreamy Luna, Hannah—pleasant as she was—felt far too ordinary to shake his loyalty.
'Oh… all right.'
Hannah deflated for half a second, disappointment flickering across her face. But she recovered almost instantly, her easy-going nature reasserting itself as she shrugged and smiled.
'Worth asking.'
She reached into her bag, preparing to share the promised snacks, when her expression suddenly froze.
'(;°A°)… Oh no.'
Her hand rummaged frantically through the bag.
'I'm doomed! Didn't I just finish everything I brought?'
She'd packed lightly, planning to nibble along the way. Between the train ride and secretly cuddling Tom earlier—one pet turning into ten, ten into a hundred—the entire stash had disappeared without her noticing.
Just as panic set in, the compartment door slid open.
A smiling witch in a neat uniform stood there beside a rattling trolley.
'Dear,' she said warmly, 'care for some treats?'
'Yes!' Hannah's face lit up like a Lumos spell. 'One of everything, please!'
The snack trolley appeared at exactly the right moment. Hannah beamed as → she restocked her supply and avoided Tom's accusing stare. Two birds, one stone.
What she didn't know was that Tom wasn't watching her at all.
He was deep in thought.
'(´-﹏-`;) Lucky catch this time,' he mused silently, 'but I can't keep "selling my body" for food. I'm a Cat—but Cats have pride!'
Unless absolutely cornered, he refused to live off his looks. He, Tom, was a Cat of principle.
The real problem, of course, was money.
'But how do I actually make it?'
Tom could do almost anything. He could run faster than broomsticks at short distances, leap impossible heights, and even catch Jerry—something cartoons insisted was fundamentally impossible.
Yet earning money?
That had always been his eternal Achilles' heel.
Back in his old life, he'd once tried living independently, determined to ditch both Jerry and the housekeeper. The result had been a spectacular failure. No matter what he tried, nothing ever turned a profit.
Occasionally, he'd earn a few Knuts' worth—only for the money to vanish in some absurd, inexplicable way. A broken window. A lost wallet. A mysterious fine.
Eventually, he'd surrendered to fate and embraced the life of a freeloading feline.
But now things were different.
He refused to sponge off the Lovegood family, and he definitely refused to sell himself for snacks.
'It wasn't my fault before,' he declared inwardly. 'The world was rigged. But in the magical world? I refuse to stay broke! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و'
Did he have a plan?
Absolutely not.
'Mm… chew… maybe I could craft something new? Chew… magic or no, my skills are solid. Trinkets might sell. Chew… or maybe combine spells with games from my past life? Chew… wait—what am I eating?'
Mid-thought, Tom realized something was already in his mouth.
He snapped back to awareness.
Hannah was sitting beside him, happily munching away while stuffing snacks into his paws. His arms, acting on pure instinct, had been lifting the food straight to his mouth.
'Ah! Tom, you're finally back!'
She let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing.
'You were totally spaced out. I got scared, but since you kept eating, I figured you were fine. Here—finish the table. My treat!'
She popped a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean into his paw and one into her own mouth.
Her face twisted instantly.
'Ugh—coffee flavour. That's awful!'
Tom tossed his bean into his mouth.
Dried fish.
Perfect.
A Cat knew no shame. He chewed contentedly, then complained anyway.
[Thanks for caring, but that doesn't give you permission to feed me without asking!]
'(¬ω¬) I didn't feed you,' Hannah replied innocently. 'I just put the food in your paws. You did all the eating yourself. You even unwrapped the Chocolate Frog.'
Before Tom could protest further, the compartment door opened again.
A round-faced boy stood there, eyes watery and anxious.
'Um… sorry. Have you seen my Trevor?'
'Trevor?' Hannah repeated. 'Your pet? A Cat? I haven't seen any strays, but I can help you look!'
'N-no,' the boy said quickly, sniffling. 'Not a Cat. A toad. My grandpa gave him to me when my Hogwarts letter arrived, but he keeps running away… You'd really help?'
His voice wobbled, and his teary eyes were almost painfully sincere.
'Leave it to me!'
Hannah thumped her modest chest with confidence, instantly forgetting about her snacks.
Then she turned to Tom with a grin.
'Hey, Tom. Coming along?'
The journey, it seemed, was about to get even more interesting.
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