Even though the underground passageway was still cold, damp, and gloomy, Tom felt warm inside, practically bubbling with happiness.
Not only did he not get scolded after being summoned to Snape's office—he actually walked out with a special privilege: exemption from Potions homework.
Even better, that "rich old bat" Snape had agreed to cover all his expenses!
Sure, Snape repeatedly emphasized, "Every purchase must be used for Ariana's resurrection," but who got to decide what counted as a "necessary item" for resurrection?
Exactly—Tom did.
With a stroke of luck like that, anyone would be wagging their tail in joy.
But just as Tom trotted into the Great Hall, tail swishing happily and already deciding how much to "requisition" from Snape, half his good mood evaporated instantly.
Because he saw Ariana.
And next to the ghost girl was another girl—thick brown curls, big front teeth, unmistakable.
None other than Hermione Granger.
One of the original Golden Trio, the future Minister of Magic—nicknamed online as "the future Minister and her two useless attachments."
Honestly, Tom didn't dislike Hermione.
Sure, J.K. Rowling had written Luna as Hermione's "polar opposite," but that was just authorial labeling. In the books, Hermione and Luna actually got along decently.
His complicated mood right now had a much simpler cause:
There was only one reason Hermione would already be sitting next to Ariana, chatting like friends.
"That old fox Dumbledore… he's even using his own sister as part of his plans?!"
From Tom's perspective, there was only one explanation.
Hermione's early personality wasn't the easiest to get along with—stubborn, proud, blunt, and at times downright abrasive. For her to warm up to Ariana so quickly, the only possibility was…
She must be Ariana's roommate.
And if Hermione lived with Ariana, then by default Ariana would be drawn closer to Harry—the boy Hermione gravitated to most.
If Harry got into trouble, Hermione would definitely get involved.
And if a new friend got into trouble, there was no way kind-hearted Ariana would stand by and do nothing.
Wasn't this basically shoving her straight toward the "Chosen One" pit of fire?
In reality, though, Dumbledore was being framed for something he didn't do.
Ariana was his most precious sister—the root of decades of guilt. He was more protective of her than anyone. The last thing he'd do was push her into danger.
It was simply logistics.
There were only so many first-year girls in Gryffindor, and Hermione's dorm was the only one with an available bed.
So when Professor McGonagall learned Ariana preferred to room there, she arranged it without fuss.
Ariana herself didn't know any of this.
Right now, she was chatting casually with Hermione, though her eyes kept drifting toward the entrance of the hall.
When a familiar blue figure padded in with a cat-like stride, her eyes lit up instantly.
"Tom! Over here!"
She nearly floated straight into the air from excitement—then quickly remembered she was supposed to keep her identity secret. She hurriedly settled back onto the bench. To an observer, she just looked like she had jumped in place.
Forget it. Tomorrow's problems can be handled by tomorrow-me.
Tom shook his head, shooing away his worries.
Besides, Voldemort's nothing but a roadside inconvenience. If I hadn't forgotten what trick he used to revive himself, I could wipe him out right now.
Feeling much better at the thought, Tom lifted his whiteboard:
[Good afternoon~]
Then he strolled over and hopped onto the bench beside Ariana.
His appearance drew quite a few curious looks from the Gryffindor first-years.
But not a single one of them seemed annoyed—if anything, they looked intrigued and friendly.
Word of Tom's "Potions class achievements" had already spread like wildfire:
A non-Slytherin who managed to earn points from Snape.
Someone who challenged Snape to his face and left the man speechless.
At Hogwarts, stories like that traveled fast.
And since Gryffindor loved nothing more than seeing Snape outplayed, Tom's reputation here was already second only to Harry Potter's.
Let alone sharing their table—if Tom wanted, they would've gladly given him a seat at the table like royalty.
"Tom, this is Hermione Granger—my roommate and the first friend I've made in Gryffindor!
And Hermione, this is Tom—the one I told you about! He's amazing! He even knows spells my brother can't do!"
Ariana enthusiastically introduced them.
Hermione closed the thick copy of A History of Magic in her hands and turned to him, her eyes lighting up with excitement she couldn't hide.
"Hi, Tom Lovegood. I'm Hermione Granger."
She spoke faster than usual—barely containing her eagerness.
"Ariana told me so much about you. Are the stories true? About how you took her into a painting world and everything?"
[Nice to meet you, Hermione. Just call me Tom~
As for what Ariana said… if you're willing to believe it, then it's true.]
Feeling her intense gaze on him, Tom silently muttered:
Why does she look at me like that? Like she's two seconds away from devouring me whole!
"You too—just call me Hermione," she said, offering her hand.
Tom instinctively reached out his paw, but the moment they touched, something felt… wrong.
Hermione's face flushed bright red, she avoided his eyes, and—
She squeezed his soft paw pads.
She's taking advantage of me. She's definitely taking advantage of me!
Terrified, Tom yanked his paw back and stared at her like she might pounce at any moment.
"S-Sorry… I lost my composure a little…"
Hermione's cheeks remained pink as she tried to rein in her excitement.
She'd loved cats since childhood—especially rare, mysterious ones.
And now there was a magical cat, her classmate, capable of speech, spellcasting, and who knows what else—her curiosity was exploding.
She cleared her throat, attempting to regain her dignity:
"So, um, Tom—Ariana says you can travel through portraits freely. Is that a natural magical ability for your species? And what kind of magical creature are you exactly? I've read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them several times, but I've never seen any creature like you recorded in it! And about this morning's Potions class—I heard your brewing method broke at least three—"
Her questions fired like a machine gun.
Tom shot his paw up, making a "time out" gesture.
[(;ﾟДﾟ) Stop stop stop! That's way too many questions!
And I'm not some magical creature—I'm just a normal cat!]