"Meow—!" (Keep it down! Can't you be quiet?!)
The next morning, Tom was awakened by commotion outside his door, still half-submerged in a pleasant dream about endless food. He yowled irritably without even opening his eyes, his voice was thick with sleep and annoyance.
Then, when he groggily opened his eyes and saw the unfamiliar honey-golden ceiling above him, he suddenly remembered—he was now a member of Hufflepuff, and where he currently lay was the Hufflepuff common room!
(Ugh... damn Dumbledore! If he hadn't dragged me to the kitchen last night, how would I have stayed up so late!)
Tom muttered quietly, having regained awareness of his situation. Of course, deep down he knew it had nothing to do with Dumbledore. After all, he had been lying in bed for an entire week. Although his body was fine, that didn't stop him from being absolutely starving.
Combined with his stomach that didn't know when to quit except in special circumstances, he had practically emptied the kitchen's entire stock of ham and milk that had been allocated for all the houses for today.
By the time Dumbledore brought him back to his dormitory, dawn was already breaking!
And now...
Glancing at the clock showing it wasn't even eight o'clock yet, Tom flicked his tail somewhat helplessly. Having slept less than four hours, of course he was tired! His body felt heavy and sluggish, his eyes were gritty and reluctant to stay open.
'Oh well, I've already skipped classes for a week. Missing more would be a bit much. I should give the professors some face.'
Of course, the main reason was actually...
'And if I'm too slow, there won't be any breakfast left!'
With this thought, Tom sprang from his bed, grabbed his wizard robes and threw them on, then rushed out of his dormitory room in a hurry. However, he seemed to have forgotten that this wasn't the Lovegood house—this was Hogwarts!
As one of the two most special students in the entire school (especially since the others didn't yet know about Ariana's special nature), he had greatly underestimated just how attractive he would be to other young wizards.
Even without considering his status as a wizard, as a beautiful British Shorthair with his plush grey-blue coat, round face, and large copper eyes, Tom was absolutely the most eye-catching creature around. Add to that the unprecedented sight of a cat wearing miniature wizard robes and walking upright, and you had a recipe for pandemonium.
Thus, when he stepped through the door, the previously somewhat noisy Hufflepuff common room quickly fell silent.
Everyone's gaze simultaneously fell upon Tom, this cat who walked on two legs and wore wizard robes. Every pair of eyes had their attention on him.
The silence stretched for three or four seconds. Tom could practically see the thoughts processing behind all those staring eyes.
Then, as though someone had released a pause button, the common room exploded back into life. But instead of returning to their previous conversations, every single student was now talking about and often directly to Tom.
"Whose pet is that? I've never seen it before!" exclaimed a third-year witch with hair tied back in a ponytail.
"Wow! It's so cute, wearing wizard robes and walking upright, just like a little wizard! How clever!" A younger student's voice rose with excitement.
"I'd love to know whose cat it is. I want one too! Even if there are no relatives available, I'd be happy with one of its kittens!" A tall boy near the fireplace spoke wistfully to his companion.
"What about your owl?" his friend asked.
"I'll keep both! The owl can deliver mail, and the cat is for cuddling—they don't conflict at all! Besides, I'm not a first-year anymore. No one will care if I have two pets!"
The conversations multiplied and overlapped, creating a rising tide of noise. Everyone had an opinion or a question about the small cat standing in the dormitory doorway.
The thunderous noise brought Tom's foggy brain back to alertness with the effectiveness of a bucket of cold water. He shook his head vigorously and had just pulled out his whiteboard to say something when he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace that lifted his paws clear off the floor.
Strong arms wrapped around his middle, squeezing with enthusiastic affection. Tom found himself pressed against soft robes that smelled faintly of herbs and vanilla, his whiskers bent at awkward angles.
"Tom? Why are you in the Hufflepuff common room?! Wait, does this mean you were sorted into Hufflepuff too? That's wonderful! We're classmates now!"
The speaker was one of Tom's few friends in Hufflepuff—indeed, in all of Hogwarts: Hannah Abbott.
"Abbott, is this cat your pet? Did you have wizard robes specially made for it? They look perfect!" The question came from a student whose voice carried impressed curiosity.
"No, no, Truman, Prefect!" Hannah responded quickly, her voice took on a slightly defensive note. She shifted her grip on Tom, turning so that he faced more toward the students. "His name is Tom, and he's a student in our year. It's just that before, I..."
[I had a small accident and took a week off. I only completed my Sorting with Headmaster Dumbledore last night.]
Hannah had just started to explain when Tom held up his whiteboard, cutting her off. He knew this girl was about to confess to "hospitalizing him," and while that was indeed what happened, Tom understood it wasn't intentional. There was no need to expose her in front of the other badgers and damage her reputation.
Of course, the main reason was that Hannah was his designated "employee"! If her reputation suffered, who would he get to be his shopkeeper? And a free shopkeeper at that!
"You're saying this cat is a Hufflepuff student?!" The male student called Prefect Truman looked utterly bewildered.
While he knew Hufflepuff was indeed very inclusive, a cat... wasn't this a bit too progressive? His mouth hung slightly open, his expression was cycling between confusion, disbelief, and awkward acceptance.
"Of course! Prefect, haven't you read The Quibbler?" Hannah said earnestly, voice taking on a slightly defensive tone. "One issue mentioned that this year Hogwarts would welcome an unprecedented cat wizard! It was in the special edition at the beginning of term!"
"So, it was published in the magazine?" Truman nodded thoughtfully, processing this information.
He had heard of The Quibbler. But he'd never personally bought a copy. Perhaps he should pick up a few issues?
Though his mind was racing, the smile on Truman's face didn't fade. He stepped forward, extending his hand toward Tom in the gesture of greeting. "Hello, I'm the Hufflepuff prefect, Gabriel Truman. Pleased to meet you."
[I'm Tom. Pleased to meet you.]
Tom wrote quickly on his whiteboard, then extended his right front paw. He placed it in Truman's hand and shook.
"And me! I'm Cedric Diggory. Welcome to Hufflepuff!" A rather handsome boy leaned in, his face was open and welcoming.
But then his eyes took on a peculiar gleam. "By the way, do you have other cats in your family? If possible, could you introduce me to your other family members?"
"I'm Susan Bones, a first-year like you." A girl with braided red hair edged into the growing circle. Her face was friendly and curious. "By the way, why did you come out of that empty room?"
"And me! I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley!" Yet another voice joined the chorus. "Tom, you look so much like my cat at home! Could my cat possibly become a wizard too?"
The questions and introductions continued to pile up from all directions. Everyone wanted to meet the cat wizard, to shake his paw, to ask their burning questions. Tom found himself at the center of a hurricane of social interaction.
Upon learning that Tom was their actual classmate who would be attending lessons alongside them, the Hufflepuff students showed absolutely no signs of rejection.
If anything, the revelation increased their enthusiasm. There was no awkwardness about having a non-human housemate. Instead, they enthusiastically crowded around with genuine welcome.
Finally, Prefect Truman recognized that the situation was spiraling out of control and decided to exercise his authority.
He raised his voice, pitching it to carry over the crowd. "All right, everyone! Don't forget Tom is still a first-year, and first-years have classes!"
The announcement caused the upper-year students to pause in their enthusiastic crowding.
"You'll all have plenty of time to get to know him throughout the year. But right now, the first-years need to head to breakfast and then to their first lesson!"
This stopped the other upper-year wizards from continuing to press forward, but simultaneously, the first-years' faces fell. The enthusiasm drained away, replaced by expressions of profound dismay and reluctance.
"Ah! Why does it have to be Monday?!" one student groaned with despair.
"Exactly! Why doesn't the week start on Tuesday?!" another chimed in.
"No, it should start Monday afternoon," a third countered. "If we could just skip the morning and go straight to afternoon, we'd have Professor Sprout's Herbology class!"
"I almost forgot! But why is there such a huge difference between the heads of house?!" The complaint showed a vivid picture of what awaited them.
From their groans and complaints, Tom quickly understood the reason for everyone's low spirits.
Hufflepuff's first class on Monday morning was Potions with Ravenclaw, facing the Slytherin Head of House with his overwhelming presence. Professor Snape's favoritism toward his own house students was blatant and, his patience for mistakes were nonexistent.
The first-year students had nearly broken down under the pressure during their first week! Especially the Muggle-born students coming from non-magical backgrounds with no prior knowledge of potions, they had suffered the most under Snape's cold dismissal and sarcastic commentary.
If it weren't for Professor Sprout's healing Herbology class in the afternoon, they would have become completely disillusioned with the wizarding world!
Where Snape was cold and critical, Professor Sprout was warm and encouraging. Her lessons were an oasis of kindness in what had been a harsh introduction to magical education.
Was this really Snape? Tom found himself wondering. He had nearly accomplished what even the noseless villain hadn't managed to do—driving students away from the wizarding world!
But poor Ravenclaw had it worse—getting torn apart by Snape in the morning, facing Professor Binns' hypnotic History of Magic in the afternoon, and the next morning encountering Professor Quirrell's garlic-scented Defense Against the Dark Arts class...
It could only be said that the fact that no Ravenclaw student had withdrawn this year was entirely due to their thirst for knowledge keeping them going.
Only genuine love of learning could sustain someone through such a punishing schedule.