"Hehe, that's just how Hermione is—curious about everything," Ariana whispered, leaning close enough to Tom's ear.
"I think she'd actually suit Ravenclaw better than Gryffindor, honestly." Ariana's voice carried a thoughtful tone like she'd given the matter genuine consideration.
"All that curiosity, the way she devours books like they're going to vanish if she doesn't finish them immediately, how she lights up when discussing magical theory... classic Ravenclaw traits.
But she really is a wonderful friend, Tom. This morning she spent ages helping me catch up on Monday's lessons. She was so thorough and patient about it, explaining everything twice to make sure I understood. Had this very serious, focused expression the whole time, like a little professor. It was honestly adorable~"
"Ariana! I can hear you, you know!" Hermione's voice carried from across the table, mortification was coloring every syllable.
Her cheeks had flushed pink not quite angry, not quite embarrassed, but some complicated mixture of both.
"But it's the truth~" Ariana protested with exaggerated innocence, her eyes were going wide in a manner that would have made any experienced sibling immediately suspicious. "I'm just stating facts! Besides, it's not like I said anything you wouldn't want people to know, right?"
She paused, then added with cautious casualness.
"Actually, I overheard something interesting this morning. Lavender was complaining to Parvati about you, saying you're 'just like a mini-McGonagall,' all strict and serious. They were talking about Professor McGonagall, right? I'm still learning all the professors' names."
Hermione's expression cycled through several emotions. Her fingers gripped the edge of her book hard.
"Hmph. Those... those gossips." Hermione's lip curled as she tried to appear indifferent. "Honestly, with all the time they waste talking behind people's backs, I could memorize several more chapters. A dozen facts. Maybe an entire spell compendium."
But despite her dismissive tone, despite the contemptuous curl of her lip and the forced steadiness of her voice, her eyes had gone slightly red around the rims which revealed that she was far less calm than she pretended.
Seeing this, Ariana, the instigator shot Tom a look mixing awkwardness, apology and pleading like someone who'd just realized they'd badly miscalculated and needed help fixing their mistake. Though she'd only known her three roommates for one night, she'd already figured out their personalities.
Parvati and Lavender were straightforward enough with different personalities, certainly but both were basically friendly, socially comfortable, and easy to get along with. They existed naturally within the social ecosystem of Gryffindor Tower.
Hermione was an entirely different proposition.
Stubborn. Inflexible. Brilliant but abrasive. Sensitive beneath the know-it-all exterior, easily wounded by perceived rejection, defensive to the point of self-sabotage.
Like a little hedgehog with its spines always raised—prickly, lonely, keeping everyone at arm's length while simultaneously aching for connection.
It reminded Ariana of her own childhood. The years spent isolated in that house, watching the world through windows, desperate for human contact yet terrified of it.
That recognition was why Ariana had chosen to befriend Hermione first. Because she understood that particular flavor of loneliness.
Her earlier comment about the "mini-McGonagall" comparison hadn't been meant as mockery or gossip-spreading.
Ariana had genuinely thought and hoped that maybe hearing how others perceived her would give Hermione a chance to reflect. To see how her behavior came across to other and perhaps open her heart to others' opinions.
And judging by Hermione's reaction, it had failed spectacularly.
Worse, as the person who'd initiated this disaster, Ariana found herself uniquely unqualified to fix it. What could she say? "Sorry I told you people are mocking you behind your back, but I meant it constructively"? That would only make things worse.
She needed help.
'Sigh...'
Tom caught Ariana's pleading expression.
'Why is it always me who has to play emotional support cat?'
But even as he internally complained, Tom was already moving.
He reached out with one paw and gently grasped Hermione's hand where it rested clenched on the table. She was startled slightly at the touch, her fingers were reflexively beginning to pull away before Tom's paw pads made contact and she froze.
Tom hesitated for just a moment—head-pats were his absolute limit, the boundary he would not cross no matter how pitiful someone looked but paw pads... well. Paw pads were different.
He carefully, placed Hermione's hand palm-down on his soft paw pad.
"...?"
Hermione's breath caught. She looked up from their joined hands with eyes that had gone bright and wet, tears trembling on her lower lashes but not quite falling, meeting Tom's gentle expression.
The afternoon sun streamed through the Great Hall's high arched windows at just the right angle, sending golden light through the enchanted ceiling's rendered clouds. The beams caught floating dust motes and made them dance like tiny fairies, and one particular ray fell directly across Tom, lighting his blue fur with an almost ethereal glow.
The effect was accidentally angelic as though some Renaissance painter had decided to render a divine cat messenger bringing comfort to the tormented.
[Come on, don't cry.]
The words appeared on Tom's whiteboard.
"I—I'm not crying!" Hermione protested immediately.
Her fingers trembled slightly as they swiped away the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, trying to erase the evidence before anyone else noticed.
Her other hand, still resting on Tom's paw pad, had unconsciously begun making small kneading motions, finding comfort in the repetitive action and the warm, living contact.
Ariana relaxed, her shoulders were dropping from their tense position up around her ears. She shot Tom a look of gratitude mixed with relief.
She privately resolved to raid her brother's belongings later for anything useful to give Tom.
'Brother will definitely forgive me for borrowing a few things. Probably. Maybe. Well, he'll forgive me eventually. (￣︶￣)'
The thought made her smile despite the lingering awkwardness.
"Ah! Tom, there you are!"
The cheerful exclamation cut through the quieter conversation, drawing everyone's attention toward the newcomer.
Hannah was practically bouncing as she approached, her blonde pigtails were swinging with each energetic step. Her face was flushed from jogging through the Great Hall, and her Hufflepuff robes were slightly crooked as though she'd been moving too quickly to bother straightening them.
Tom looked up, ears perking with recognition and curiosity about what had Hannah so energetic.
Noticing Hannah's approach, Hermione quickly, almost guiltily gave Tom's paw pad one final, lingering squeeze. Her fingers compressed the soft beans one last time, as though trying to memorize the sensation, before she withdrew her hand with reluctance.
She immediately busied herself wiping at her eyes again and smoothing down her bushy hair.
Hannah, bless her straightforward Hufflepuff nature, either didn't notice the tension or chose to politely ignore it. She plopped down on the bench beside Tom, showing zero concern about the fact that this was technically the Gryffindor table and she was a Hufflepuff.
"What are you doing all the way over here?" she asked, slightly breathless from her jog across the Hall. "I looked everywhere for you at our table! Finally, Neville mentioned he'd spotted you heading toward the Gryffindor side."
She paused to catch her breath, then her expression shifted to concern.
"Oh! And what did Professor Snape want after class? He didn't give you trouble, did he? I was worried sick when you didn't come out with the rest of us. Some of the older students were making these ominous predictions about detention until Christmas or having to clean cauldrons with your tongue or—well, they were probably exaggerating, but still!"
[Of course not!]
Tom's chest puffed out with pride, his posture was radiating smug satisfaction. He reached for a nearby glass of milk with one paw and drained the entire contents in several long gulps.
Setting the empty glass down with a satisfied exhale,
[I'm a Potions prodigy, obviously! Snape recognizes genuine talent when he sees it. He was so impressed by my brewing that he's granted me special exemption from all Potions homework. Permanently.]
"No homework? None? Ever?" Hannah's eyes went wide as galleons, practically sparkling with envy. "That's incredible!"
For young wizards just beginning their magical education, the prospect of homework-free existence in any subject was the stuff of dreams. Essays of twelve inches or more, due every week like clockwork, with professors who seemed to delight in assigning them over holidays and weekends, these were trials that made even facing a troll seem appealing by comparison.
But in the very next moment, Hannah's expression of awe transformed into alarm as she belatedly realized.
"Wait—Tom, no!" She lunged forward slightly, hands raised as though to physically stop him, though the milk was already consumed. "Cats can't drink milk! Well, they can, but they shouldn't! It'll make you sick!"
"?"
Tom's triumphant posture froze. His ears spun backward in confusion. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to the empty glass sitting beside his paw.
And almost simultaneously, a familiar, ominous churning sensation rolled through his stomach.
"Hehe, I did my research this time!" Hannah announced with evident pride. She began counting off items on her fingers:
"After what happened on the train, I went straight to the library and found this brilliant book called The Care and Keeping of Magical Felines. I memorized the entire chapter on dietary restrictions!
So I know now that cats absolutely cannot have milk—well, most can't, because of the lactose and you also can't eat onions. No raw dough either, because the yeast expands in your stomach. Raw meat can have parasites. Chocolate is toxic to cats just like dogs. Grapes and raisins cause kidney failure. Garlic is poisonous. Caffeine. Alcohol, obviously. Macadamia nuts—"
[Stop, stop, STOP!]
Tom's whiteboard flashed frantically.
If Hannah continued this comprehensive recitation of forbidden foods, the list would encompass approximately ninety percent of everything currently available on the tables. He'd starve to death before finding something deemed "safe" for cat consumption.
[Listen—other cats can't drink milk because of lactose intolerance, yes. But I'm different! I'm completely fine with dairy!]
Even as he wrote these words with determined conviction, something remarkable happened.
The churning in Tom's stomach simply... stopped. Feeling this change, Tom breathed a sigh of profound relief—at least he wouldn't suffer digestive disaster here.
[Besides, I'm not like ordinary cats! My diet isn't restricted the same way theirs is. Don't forget—I'm a cat who can perform magic~]
The truth was that Tom only vaguely remembered cats and dogs having certain dietary restrictions. The specifics had never stuck in his memory because, frankly, he'd never expected to be a cat and therefore need this information.
But it genuinely didn't matter.
As long as Tom remained unaware that something was supposedly harmful, as long as he didn't believe it would hurt him, he could consume it without consequence.
The rule of cartoon existence: you only fall when you look down and realize there's no ground beneath you. You only get poisoned when you know you've been poisoned.
After all, for cartoon characters, ignoring common sense was the most basic setting.
"Oh..." Hannah's enthusiasm deflated visibly, her shoulders were drooping. She'd worked so hard this week to learn all that.
"Hello there~!"
Ariana's voice, bright and welcoming, cut through Hannah's melancholy.
"I'm Ariana and this is Hermione. It's wonderful to meet you! You're a friend of Tom's, right? Me too! Actually, he's one of my few friends here at Hogwarts."
She tilted her head with innocence: "Oh! Could we be friends as well? I'd really like that."
Hearing this, Hannah's head shot up to look at Ariana. The phrase "one of my few friends" immediately shifted her attention.
Such a lovely girl had few friends? How pitiful! Fortunately, as a Hufflepuff, making friends was what she loved most.
She immediately extended her hand to Ariana.
"I'm Hannah Abbott! Very pleased to meet you both. I'd absolutely love to be your friend. Both of you! We can all be friends together!"
"Hehe, wonderful! Then starting right now, we're friends too~"
Ariana's smile widened with delight then flickered with brief sadness as she glanced at Hannah's extended hand.
"Though, um... maybe we should skip the handshake part?"
Apart from Tom, she couldn't physically touch other living beings.
But the melancholy lasted only few seconds. Ariana had spent over a century dead. And compared to her earlier existence, trapped and isolated and barely aware, this was paradise.
"That's okay! We don't need handshakes to be proper friends. Those are just formalities anyway, right?"
And just like that, with Ariana acting as social lubricant smoothing the interactions and Hannah's wholehearted Hufflepuff friendliness, the three girls (plus one cat) began bonding.
Even Hermione gradually relaxed, regaining some of the liveliness appropriate for her age.
However, just as their discussion reached its peak, two figures approached.
"Um... sorry to interrupt?"
Harry stood awkwardly beside the table, accompanied by Ron wearing an expression that screamed 'I'm doomed.'
The two had come looking for Hermione to copy that afternoon's Herbology homework. But judging by the current situation, their timing seemed... unfortunate?