"…"
Faced with Tom's question, Draco just stared straight at him, silent as a statue—and the longer it went on, the more the back of Tom's neck prickled.
If you're not saying anything, I'll just… go now, yeah?
Draco still didn't speak. Tom let out two awkward chuckles, tugged Ariana along, and tried to slip past him toward the Great Hall.
If he'd known he'd get ambushed at the door, he would've eaten in the common room!
"Why?"
Just as Tom was about to escape, Draco finally blurted something out. Problem was, it made absolutely no sense.
Why what? Why which part? Can you please be a normal human being for one second and use complete sentences?! Aren't you supposed to be the human here? Then speak like one!
Maybe he actually did hear that last thought, because Draco quickly followed up:
"Why did you step in for me in Charms class today? Don't tell me you didn't notice my… hostility toward you."
To be fair, Draco told himself honestly, if their roles had been reversed, he definitely wouldn't have stepped in to help. So why had Tom? Was it just because he was a Hufflepuff?
Hostility? What hostility? Did he act hostile toward me at all?
Draco didn't know it, but Tom was even more confused now. When had Draco ever been openly hostile to him? During class?
Sure, his emotions had wobbled a bit—but that counted as hostility? If that tiny flicker counted, then what were the emotions Jerry stirred up in him all the time? Tidal waves?
Compared to him and Jerry, Draco's emotional "hostility" was less than a raindrop in the Black Lake.
Still, snarky thoughts were one thing—Tom wasn't about to say any of that out loud. So he shook his head.
Don't worry about it. We're all Hogwarts students, right? And things did get a little out of hand in class. Part of that's on me too.
"…"
Draco lowered his head again, fingers twisting tightly into the sleeves of his robe. No one knew what he was brooding over now.
Seeing that, Tom didn't linger. He headed straight for the Great Hall.
A proper meal waits for no wizard! Lunch had already been delayed way too long. If he didn't hurry, the good stuff would be gone.
"…Thanks."
Just as Tom walked past him, a voice so soft it was practically lodged in Draco's throat drifted out. Only Tom—someone with catlike hearing—would've caught it.
Before Tom could reply, Draco spun around and bolted down the corridor like he was fleeing a duel.
"?"
Tom blinked, staring after the retreating blond blur.
If he remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy was supposed to be proud, even a little snobbish. And yet he'd just thanked… him? A kid who wasn't even considered a proper human wizard—just a cat?
That was… unexpected.
---
"Ariana, are you okay?"
"And Tom—what was that with Professor McGonagall earlier? Did something happen?"
The moment the two of them entered the Great Hall, Hermione—who'd been too distracted to eat—shot up from the table, abandoning her two ex–best friends to hurry over.
Hannah set down her food too and leaned in with concern.
"It's fine! Professor McGonagall just took us to see the headmaster. Probably because of these gloves Tom made?"
Ariana lifted her hands uncertainly.
Yep. Though I still don't get why they're all so worked up over a tiny little gadget.
Tom tilted his head innocently. Just like he never thought his spellcasting was strange, he also had zero awareness of how revolutionary those gloves were to the field of alchemy.
He had no idea that because of those gloves, Hogwarts was about to witness the birth of a legend.
Oh, speaking of which—you two won't believe this. Draco ran into us earlier and actually thanked me.
Tom, not wanting to continue the glove conversation, switched topics immediately.
"Malfoy? Thank you? No way! Absolutely impossible!"
Ron, who had tagged along with Hermione, exploded before anyone else could even react.
Other people might not know, but as a Weasley who constantly clashed with pure-blood supremacists, Ron knew perfectly well what Malfoys were like—cold, nasty, raised to be dark wizards from birth.
A Malfoy saying thank you? Impossible!
If Draco Malfoy ever showed gratitude, Ron Weasley would gladly accept brand-new robes, the latest gear, and become the pride of the entire family. That's how impossible it was!
"He did thank him. I heard it myself."
Ariana shot Ron a mildly irritated look. But since he was Hermione's friend, she didn't press further.
"Come on—it's Malfoy! He grew up surrounded by dark wizards—"
Malfoy is still a person. Draco's just like you—just a kid who's still growing. What's so impossible about that?
Tom cut him off.
Honestly, he never really understood this whole inter-house hostility thing—especially the Gryffindors' grudge against Slytherin.
They hate Slytherin just because the house produced dark wizards? But except for Hufflepuff, which house hasn't produced troublemakers? Isn't that a little hypocritical?
Besides—if memory served, the "original" Draco did change in the end. And he had a decent outcome, didn't he? That meant he wasn't rotten at his core—just misled.
Given a better environment, he could grow into someone good.
And now, without parents feeding him pure-blood propaganda 24/7, Hogwarts was the perfect place for that change to start.
Still, expecting Ron—a kid barely eleven—to understand concepts like moral complexity and environmental influence was… optimistic.
To an eleven-year-old, the world was simple: good guys and bad guys. Bad fruit was bad fruit, and the child of a dark wizard was a dark wizard. Add family bias, and Ron disliking Draco was practically guaranteed.
So Tom didn't try to preach. He simplified it instead:
Besides, I'm a Hufflepuff. Me befriending someone from Slytherin—is that weird?
The conflict on Ron's face vanished instantly.
He couldn't understand big philosophical ideas. But this he understood.
Hufflepuff students were basically the peacekeepers between houses. They got along with everyone—even Slytherins.
So Tom befriending Draco? Totally believable.
Harry, listening nearby, understood only half of that. And since he couldn't make sense of the rest, he let it go.
He suddenly remembered what Hermione had asked him earlier. After a moment of hesitation, he shifted the topic:
"By the way, Tom—do you know Hagrid?"