His voice was so quiet that even in the silent Headmaster's office, it remained barely audible. Apart from Tom standing beside him, no one else even noticed Dumbledore had spoken at all.
This was entirely deliberate on Dumbledore's part. Though having his sister return to him healed and whole filled him with overwhelming emotion, as a century-old wizard who had cultivated an image over decades, he still had his dignity to maintain!
If only Tom had been present, perhaps he wouldn't have concealed his feelings—he might have openly expressed the full depth of his gratitude for everything Tom had done, might have allowed himself to show the raw relief and joy he felt.
But to display such vulnerable emotion in front of both Ariana and Minerva, two people who looked to him as a figure of wisdom and strength...
'It's better if they don't notice. (´-ω-`)'
Hearing the elderly wizard's hoarse whisper, Tom turned to look at him properly. He was startled to discover that behind those half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore's eyes had grown distinctly moist.
After a moment's consideration, Tom didn't speak. Words seemed insufficient for this moment anyway. Instead, he gently lifted Dumbledore's wrinkled hand with both his paws and placed it atop his own head:
[(￣ω￣) Given today's special circumstances, this magnificent cat shall magnanimously grant you special dispensation to pet my head! Under normal circumstances, this privilege is reserved exclusively for Luna, who has earned it through years of dedicated service and provision of premium cat treats. Consider this a one-time honor in recognition of your emotional distress.]
"Heh, are you trying to comfort me?" Dumbledore asked, a genuine smile was breaking through his face like sun through storm clouds.
"Though I appreciate the gesture, perhaps we should find a different arrangement in the future. After all, you're not anyone's pet now—you're my student, a member of Hogwarts."
Tom was about to respond, when Professor McGonagall's crisp voice suddenly cut through the moment: "Headmaster, we're ready to begin the Sorting ceremony."
"Excellent!" Dumbledore instantly collected himself. The moisture in his eyes vanished as though it had never existed. He cleared his throat, resuming his customary composure.
"Then, Minerva, I entrust you with conducting this somewhat belated Sorting ceremony for our two extraordinary students. This will certainly be one for the history books."
Professor McGonagall nodded with efficiency and placed the ancient, patched Sorting Hat upon a chair that had somehow materialized in the center of the office during the preceding events.
The Sorting Hat wriggled vigorously on its perch, adjusting itself into a comfortable position. Then a rip opened near its brim and it burst into song with surprising gusto:
Though I may look tattered and worn,
With patches sewn and seams well-torn,
Ancient Hogwarts magic flows
Through every stitch that time has known.
I can see your deepest secrets,
Your fears and hopes and old regrets,
Whether you're living or a ghost,
Even a cat's peculiar thoughts—
Yes, even feline minds most strange—
Cannot escape my knowing gaze.
Gryffindor values courage true,
Where the brave will never flee,
Where bold hearts dare what others won't,
If steadfast valor fills your heart,
If you would stand when others run,
There your home should rightly be.
Hufflepuff recognizes loyalty,
Friendship transcending death itself,
Where patient work is honored most,
If honest toil doesn't frighten you,
If you value fairness, trust, and truth,
The warmest welcome waits for you.
Should you crave wisdom's sacred halls,
If clever wit delights your mind,
Ravenclaw can house your thoughts,
In that tower reaching toward the sky,
Where mysteries unravel slow,
The wise and learned find their home,
And kindred spirits wait to know.
Slytherin accepts ambition's call,
For cunning minds and clever schemes,
Those who know what they desire,
In depths beneath the lake's dark waters,
Where greatness waits for those who dare,
Achieve the glory you were meant for.
Come now, on this special evening,
On this night like none before,
Place me on without fear,
One hat for two unique souls,
Breaking barriers of species and state,
Of life and death, of old and new,
Whether you're phantom or feline,
I'll find where you belong,
Within these halls of magic!
For Hogwarts welcomes all who learn,
Regardless of their earthly form!
Listening to the Sorting Hat's improvised song, Tom's whiskers twitched with suppressed amusement. The performance had suddenly reminded him of Ron's complaint from the original books.
If he recalled correctly, Ron had once said that the Sorting Hat spent an entire year just composing its next song.
But after tonight's demonstration, witnessing the Hat compose a completely new song with verses specifically addressing ghosts and cats in what couldn't have been more than a few minutes of preparation, Tom had to completely revise that assessment:
[(￣ω￣;) Where does it need a whole year? This hat can clearly compose a brand new song on the spot whenever it feels like it! Ron was giving it way too much credit. It's probably just lazy the rest of the time, napping and eavesdropping on student conversations.]
While Tom was silently critiquing the Hat's creative process and work ethic, Professor McGonagall had already positioned herself beside the chair with, her expression was stern and formal—exactly as she appeared during the Welcoming Feast when hundreds of first-years watched with nervous anticipation:
"Ariana Dumbledore."
She spoke Ariana's name clearly. Noticing the way Ariana's ghost form had gone rigid with anxiety, she allowed her severe expression to soften just slightly, offering an encouraging smile that transformed her face:
"When you're ready, please come forward, place the Hat upon your head, and sit in the chair."
"Okay, I will!" Ariana's voice came out slightly higher than usual.
Despite her brave words, Ariana remained anxious, her spectral form growing noticeably more rigid with nerves. She drifted toward the chair with palpable apprehension. She reached out with trembling fingers to grasp the legendary Sorting Hat, and then...
Her hand passed straight through it.
Staring at her arm extending uselessly through the Hat's fabric, everyone present including the Sorting Hat itself, which had never encountered this particular problem in over a millennium of sorting froze in collective confusion.
Because Ariana possessed coloration identical to living people rather than the typical translucent silver-blue of most ghosts, and because she could physically interact with Tom, they had all unconsciously forgotten the fundamental rule: ghosts cannot touch physical objects.
"(;´д｀)ゞ What do we do now?" Ariana asked, her voice sounded disappointed.
After two more unsuccessful attempts, Ariana looked helplessly toward Tom, bewilderment and crushing disappointment were written across her ethereal face.
Would her life at Hogwarts end before it had even begun?
"Perhaps I should simply assign her to—"
Dumbledore's suggestion was immediately interrupted by the Sorting Hat's indignant shriek.
"Absolutely not! That is utterly unacceptable! I will not hear of it! Sorting students is the sacred duty the four Founders entrusted to me personally over a thousand years ago! Over a thousand years have passed, and every single student who has entered Hogwarts has been Sorted by me into one of the four Houses!
I will not permit anyone to bypass this essential tradition! No one enters a House without undergoing my Sorting ceremony first!"
"The Hat is quite right, Headmaster." McGonagall added her support.
"In all these years, through countless unusual students and extraordinary circumstances, the Sorting Hat has never made a mistake in its judgments."
"However..." Dumbledore gestured toward the ongoing problem.
Watching Ariana make repeated attempts that ended in consistent failure, Dumbledore's face reflected complex emotions.
Though he was indeed one of the greatest wizards of the modern age, with accomplishments that filled several pages in magical history books, he had unfortunately never studied magic involving souls in any real depth.
The soul was perhaps the most mysterious aspect of magic, and the least understood. Naturally, he possessed no ability to grant a ghost physical contact with material objects.
(If the goal is simply allowing Ariana to touch the Hat, I might have a solution?)
Tom spoke up with slight hesitation.
"You? (´･_･`)" McGonagall's tone carried obvious skepticism.
She didn't believe a young wizard who had just entered the magical world mere hours ago—who hadn't even learned basic spellwork yet could solve a problem involving souls that had stumped the wizarding community for centuries.
However, considering he had just resolved the Obscurus problem, which had similarly plagued magical society for generations and resulted in countless tragic deaths, she reconsidered her response and moderated her tone.
"Are you certain you can manage this?"
(Not certain at all.) Tom answered with refreshing honesty that made McGonagall's eye twitch slightly.
(After all, I haven't tested any of those thousand-plus methods yet. No idea if they'll actually work.)
'A thousand methods...'
Observing Tom spread his paws with an expression that clearly said: 'I'm just experimenting here, success not guaranteed, no refunds if something explodes,' combined with his casual mention of over a thousand possible approaches to solving a problem that most wizards would claim was impossible, McGonagall fell into stunned silence.
Her mouth opened slightly, then closed again, then opened once more before she gave up on forming a response.
"Since Tom has offered, we might as well let him try." Dumbledore appeared remarkably calm about the suggestion.
Having personally witnessed Tom's extraordinary capabilities, he had learned not to underestimate the unusual cat or question his methods.
After all, this was a cat who had guided a ghost into the world of portraits, navigated freely within that painted realm as though it were perfectly normal, and successfully eliminated an Obscurus with apparently no more effort than eating breakfast.
Perhaps he genuinely possessed some method that would work.
(Alright, I'm starting now! But no matter what happens next, try not to overreact, okay?)
Tom issued his warning.
"Don't worry. As long as you don't demolish the office, destroy the Sorting Hat, or harm Ariana in any way, I can accept whatever else might occur." Dumbledore adopted an expression of exaggerated magnanimity, spreading his hands in a gesture of unlimited patience.