After Quirrell was dealt with, Tom's life finally settled back into its usual chaos.
The only real change was the baby dragon they now had to check on every so often. Everything else stayed the same.
Draco was still Draco. He kept up his arrogant front and only visited Hagrid's hut to see Norberta, but at least he stopped actively targeting Harry.
Defense Against the Dark Arts, however, turned into another nightmare.
At the Halloween feast, Dumbledore made the announcement.
"Due to unforeseen circumstances, Professor Quirrell will no longer be teaching at Hogwarts. Until a permanent replacement is found, Professor Snape will be covering Defense Against the Dark Arts as well."
The Great Hall went dead quiet. Most students looked like someone had just canceled Christmas. Snape, on the other hand, looked like he'd won the lottery.
He'd begged for the position for years. Now it had fallen into his lap because Quirrell "resigned." Even if it was temporary, it was still his.
He was already plotting how to make sure every future candidate had a convenient "accident."
The students were devastated. Potions was already hell because of Snape. Now they had to suffer through Defense with him too?
At least Snape actually knew what he was talking about. Compared to Quirrell's stuttering mess, his lessons were clear and sharp. That small mercy kept the complaints from getting too loud.
Harry didn't care about any of that.
The moment Snape took over Defense, Harry became his favorite target again. Cold questions, sneering comments, the same special treatment he got in Potions. By the end of the first class, Harry was seriously considering asking Tom for another dose of that attitude-adjusting potion.
Then Snape walked into class one day looking even more pissed off than usual.
"Sit down and shut up."
The room was already silent.
After a long glare, Snape finally spoke. "I will no longer be covering this class. Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has arrived. Get used to him."
He turned and left without another word, shooting Harry one last venomous look on the way out.
A man in a worn coat and dirty glasses stepped inside. He had a streak of gray hair and a matching beard. He smelled faintly of goats and alcohol.
Hannah leaned over. "Why does he look familiar?"
"And why does he smell like a goat?" Ron muttered.
The new professor kicked the leg of the desk.
"Quiet. I don't have time for your nonsense. Put your useless textbooks away. If Dumbledore brought me here, we're doing things my way. You want to learn? Fine. You don't? Go stand in the corner and stop wasting everyone's time."
The room went still.
He gave a satisfied nod. "Name's Aberforth. Call me that."
The students started whispering immediately.
"Aberforth? Is he related to Professor Dumbledore?"
Aberforth spat on the floor. "Yeah, we're related. Doesn't mean I like him. Don't try to suck up to me through him."
His eyes flicked to Ariana for a second before he looked away.
A few weeks earlier, in the Hog's Head…
"So you want me to teach for the rest of the term?" Aberforth stared at his brother like he'd grown a second head. "After everything? You think I'm going to play teacher for your little brats just because you asked?"
Dumbledore looked tired. "It's not like that."
Aberforth had never forgiven him for Ariana. The wound was still raw.
"I'm not interested," Aberforth said, already turning to leave. "Keep me out of your messes."
Dumbledore played his last card. "Don't you want to see Ariana?"
Aberforth froze.
"What the hell did you just say?"
Dumbledore explained everything. Tom pulling Ariana's soul out of the Mirror. Her attending classes as a ghost. The possibility that Tom could bring her back for real.
Aberforth sat back down slowly.
After a long silence, he rasped, "You better not be lying."
Now, standing in front of the class and seeing Ariana smile at him, Aberforth felt something tight in his chest.
She was here. She was okay. He wasn't going to let anything happen to her again. Not ever.
When the bell rang, Aberforth grabbed his coat and left without another word. He needed to talk to Dumbledore. There were too many questions.
The students were buzzing. Aberforth might be rude as hell, but his power was obvious. The raw, no-nonsense way he taught left an impression.
Tom drifted over to Ariana.
[Want to go talk to him?]
She nodded. "I have a lot I want to say."
Hermione smiled. "Go. We get it."
Tom and Ariana followed Aberforth down the corridor.
Aberforth glanced back at Tom. "You're the cat, right? Albus told me what you did for her. Thanks."
Tom grinned.
[If you really want to thank me, actual payment works better than words.]
Aberforth snorted. "Fair enough. Once you bring my sister back, name your price. I'll make it worth your while."
Tom's tail flicked happily.
They reached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. Before Aberforth could give the password, the stone creature stepped aside on its own.
Aberforth frowned but headed up the spiral staircase.
The office was empty except for a single piece of parchment on the desk.
He picked it up, read it once, and exploded.
"Albus, you bastard!"