"Nagini?"
Unlike Dumbledore and the others, Tom's face showed a flicker of confusion when he heard the name. For some reason, it felt familiar—like he'd heard it somewhere before.
But this wasn't the time to dwell on the snake's backstory.
Watching Jerry stand triumphantly on Nagini's head with that smug look, Tom reached out to yank the mouse down. Jerry didn't flinch or try to dodge. He just stood there like he hadn't noticed a thing.
Nagini, however, moved. Her tail flicked lightly, shifting her body just enough to slip out of reach of Tom's claws.
Then, under Tom's surprised gaze, she flicked her tongue and fixed him with a wary stare.
Tom glanced at his own paw, then at the snake that had just avoided him. He hadn't gone all-out, but the fact that she'd dodged at all said plenty. This wasn't some ordinary snake.
If he didn't already have Norberta and the unicorns stashed in the Forbidden Forest, he might've seriously considered asking Jerry where he found her. A snake this interesting would make a damn good pet.
Still—
"Don't get cocky," Tom growled, glaring up at Jerry perched on Nagini's head. "Even if she's clever, she's still just a snake! Next time I'll show you what a real pet looks like."
Too bad they were stuck in the Great Hall. No room to bring out Norberta without causing a scene. Otherwise he'd love to see the look on Jerry's face when a fire-breathing dragon showed up.
"Yeah, yeah. Keep bragging," Jerry shot back, sticking his tongue out in a taunt.
Everyone knew how this cat-and-mouse duo worked. The more one of them showed off, the harder they usually fell. This time was no different.
It wasn't Norberta or the unicorns coming to find Tom—they were too busy having the time of their lives in the Forbidden Forest and had no idea term had started. Jerry's downfall came from Nagini herself.
The snake suddenly seemed to sense something. Her lowered head snapped up, and she turned sharply toward the staff table. She didn't know why, but there were familiar scents up there—some that made her want to get closer, and one that made her want to strike.
The moment she lifted her head, Jerry lost his balance. He slipped right off her skull and tumbled down with a comical roll.
"Pfft!"
Tom couldn't hold back the laugh when he saw his rival eat dirt. But the second Jerry started to fall, he lunged forward and caught him, setting the mouse safely back on the table.
They could fight and mess with each other all they wanted, but Tom wasn't about to let Jerry actually get hurt.
Nagini reacted a beat later. Whatever history she had with those old men on the dais didn't matter right now. Her master was Jerry. And maybe Ginny, as the master of her master. The thought that she'd almost let her master fall made her lower her head in quiet guilt.
Jerry, now back on the table, went completely still. Both little paws clutched his head like he'd been hollowed out. His tail drooped. His ears sagged. He muttered something under his breath that no one could quite catch.
Seeing the mouse looking like he'd lost the will to live, Tom shook his head, grabbed two pieces of cheese from the table, and set them in front of him.
Jerry looked up at the cheese, then remembered how Tom had just magically outplayed him. His mood somehow managed to sink even lower.
Back in their old world, they could at least go back and forth. Now he was getting completely outclassed. It was unacceptable.
He'd finally found a little dignity through his pet, only for Nagini to ruin it by lifting her head while he was still standing on it. And in the end, his sworn enemy had to save him. The humiliation was too much.
While he was spiraling, a hand suddenly waved in front of his face like it was shooing flies.
Jerry blinked and looked up. Tom did the same, following the arm to see Luna smiling as she pulled her hand back. "There were a lot of Wrackspurts around you. I chased some of them off."
"Wrackspurts?"
Jerry tilted his head. He'd been studying the textbooks, but he didn't remember anything about Wrackspurts.
"They're things most people can't see," Luna explained seriously. "They float into your ears and scramble your thoughts. There were quite a few around you just now, but there are fewer now."
Jerry blinked again, then nodded slowly. He still didn't fully get it, but if he followed her logic, Wrackspurts were basically solid versions of bad thoughts. And apparently wizards could see them and get rid of them.
With zero prior knowledge of the magical world, Jerry was successfully led astray by Luna.
"By the way, Tom," Hannah leaned in, eyes sparkling, "since you can talk now, does that mean you can actually chat with me during class?!"
She loved sitting with Tom, but it had always been one-sided. Now that he could speak, class might actually be fun again.
"And if I have questions, I can just ask you for the answers! That would be so exciting!"
Tom thought for a second, then pulled out his familiar whiteboard.
[It depends~]
Hannah: "…"
"So for Tom, writing and using the signboard are somehow different?" Ron muttered. "I've never even seen him write anything except when he's doing homework for people."
"Of course they're different," Tom said, shooting Ron a look. "Holding up a sign gets tiring."
"But you were just—"
Tom suddenly found something very interesting on the far side of the hall and looked away.
"So this is the best ending she could have gotten," Percival said from the staff table, watching Nagini interact with Tom's group.
"The best ending for you, maybe," Newt muttered, even though he was clearly trying not to engage.
"Oh? You really think I'm the kind of person who sweats the small stuff?"
Newt simply closed his eyes and turned his head, shutting down the conversation entirely.
You absolutely are that kind of person. He kept the thought to himself. For the sake of his peaceful retirement, some things were better left unsaid.
Dumbledore sighed quietly. These two had old grudges that weren't going away anytime soon. He was just grateful Aberforth had only lasted half a term teaching Defense before running back to his bar. Otherwise Hogwarts would've been reduced to rubble by now.
"I wonder if Tom can help her," Dumbledore murmured. He didn't expect Tom to bring his nephew back, but if Nagini could be restored… Aberforth would probably be happy. Maybe happy enough to stop being angry about Dumbledore sneaking her out in the first place.
He glanced at Percival, who was still needling Newt.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, it's your turn to speak."
McGonagall's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see her standing beside him, holding the Sorting Hat and staring expectantly.
"Oh? The Sorting's already over?"
He looked down at the hall. Sure enough, the first-years had all been sorted and were now sitting at their House tables, happily digging into the feast.
"Well then. Time really does fly."
He shook his head, then tapped his throat with his wand and cleared it twice.
"Ahem!"
The sound echoed through the entire Great Hall. Conversations died instantly—whether they were about Jerry's mysterious arrival, why the mouse with a snake hadn't gone to Slytherin, or just general gossip.
Dumbledore smiled warmly and spread his arms. "Excellent. Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone. A new school year, and new chapters in all of your lives.
But before the feast begins, there's something I need to tell you.
Professor Aberforth has stepped down from teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for personal reasons. This year, the position will be filled by a new professor. He is—"
"My name is Percival. Percival Graves. I come from MACUSA, where I work as an Auror. I'm honored to have received your Headmaster's invitation, and I look forward to working with all of you."
Before Dumbledore could finish, the middle-aged man beside him stood up with a pleasant smile. After a short introduction, he gave the students a polite bow and sat back down.
Dumbledore's expression twitched for a split second before smoothing out again. "Yes. Well then, I have just a few more words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
Thank you. Now—enjoy the feast."
He sat down.
Unlike previous years, when students would immediately start debating the meaning of his closing words, only the Muggle-born students seemed interested this time. The rest were still processing the new Defense professor.
"An Auror from the American Ministry?" Ron looked baffled. "When did the Headmaster meet someone like that? And why would an American Auror come here to teach?"
Hannah, also from a pure-blood family, looked just as uncertain. Wizards had nationalities just like Muggles. Different magical communities had their own Ministries and their own rules. Relations between Britain and MACUSA weren't terrible, but they weren't exactly warm either. An American Auror teaching at Hogwarts felt… off.
Ariana stayed quiet. She didn't know much about the wider magical world or the politics between different Ministries. But something about the man calling himself Percival felt strangely familiar.
"I don't think you need to worry," Luna said suddenly, cutting through the conversation.
Everyone turned to her.
"First, he was hired by Dumbledore. Whatever his real reasons for being here, his teaching probably won't be terrible."
Luna's analysis was based on last year's Quirrell and what she knew of this year's Lockhart from the other timeline. For the students who'd only experienced one semester—and a low-quality one at that—Dumbledore's judgment still carried weight. They nodded along.
"Second," Luna continued, "he might not actually be an Auror. Or at least, not just an Auror."
"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned.
"I don't know for certain," Luna admitted. "But when he introduced himself as an Auror, his tone carried a kind of disdain. Like calling himself one was almost… mocking. And he didn't try to hide it at all. It felt like he wouldn't care if someone called him out on it being fake."
The group went quiet.
"…Please tell me this isn't another Quirrell situation."
Harry felt a chill remembering last year. If Tom hadn't been there, he probably would've died.
"It shouldn't be," Ariana said, her expression odd. "But if it is him… then you really don't have anything to worry about. Unless you're Dumbledore's favorite student."