\Of course, Neville's one-person custom service might not have seemed like much—but Tom saw huge business potential in it.
After all, he was a cat who could communicate with humans and understand what animals were saying. That meant he could offer translation services to young wizards who wanted to know what their pets were really thinking!
"Hey there, young wizard—you don't want your precious pet to feel misunderstood just because you can't understand what they're saying, do you?" (・∀・)
Okay, it sounded a little weird, but that was basically the idea. In Tom's mind, this was a market with massive potential.
Anyone who genuinely cared about their pets—and wasn't some kind of animal abuser—would never turn down the chance to understand them better. And with Tom being a cat himself, his "brand credibility" was basically guaranteed.
Hmm… how much should I charge? One Galleon per session? Is that too cheap? But if I get too many customers, I'll work myself to death… Still, money is money—hehe~ (￣▽￣)~
By now, Tom was completely lost in his daydream.
He imagined crowds of young witches and wizards surrounding him, all fighting to hire him as their translator. He imagined himself rolling in cash, buying out The Quibbler and forcing Xenophilius Lovegood to work for him for life, publishing headlines like "Tom Is the Handsomest and Strongest Cat in the World."
"Meow~"
(Heh, Xenophilius, get ready to work for me forever.)
"Tom? Tom!"
Just as his fantasy escalated to the point where he had hired 365 beautiful maids to rotate daily massages and hand-feed him like royalty, an urgent voice snapped him back to reality.
"Meow!"
(Who's interrupting—can't you see my maid is about to trim my claws—wait—oh crap!)
The moment the sound left his mouth, Tom froze.
There were no maids.
He was on the Hogwarts Express.
And the only girl near him was Hannah.
Realizing this, the illusion shattered instantly. The luxurious hallucination vanished, replaced by the familiar—but still slightly strange—old-fashioned train compartment.
"Meow~"
(Thank goodness… no one understands what I'm saying, right?)
Seeing Hannah frowning at him with concern, Tom let out a sigh of relief and patted his chest with a paw.
That was way too close to a full-on social death. Luckily, no one around could understand him—otherwise he'd seriously consider giving them a physical Memory Charm.
Honestly, Tom's personality really wasn't that different from the cartoon version of himself. He was kind of a perv. But perviness aside, since he retained human memories, he had zero interest in actual cats.
And since he was fully aware of his current situation—and had no desire to become human again—he also had no intention of messing with human girls either. (Not that anyone would volunteer, anyway.)
Still, just because he wouldn't act didn't mean he couldn't daydream. Opportunities like this didn't come often, so he figured he might as well enjoy it a little longer.
Of course, if a pretty girl actually tried to get close to him, he'd probably turn into a shy, pure-hearted mess on the spot—instant steam-powered cat.
Theory? Solid.
Practice? …Yeah, not so much.
In short, once he confirmed he hadn't exposed himself, Tom shot Hannah a subtle glare for interrupting his beautiful fantasy.
[What is it?]
"N-no reason," Hannah said quickly. "You just looked kind of strange, so I was worried something was wrong…"
She wore an innocent expression, but Tom caught a faint hint of awkwardness on her face.
"?"
He stared straight into her eyes until her cheeks slowly turned red. Only then did he shake his head.
[Relax. I'm fine.]
Something about her reaction felt suspicious, but since he hadn't caught her doing anything actually shady, Tom decided to let it go.
Besides, once his "Kitty Translation Studio" officially opened, he might even need Hannah's help. So as long as she didn't cross any hard boundaries—like demanding lifetime petting rights—he was willing to overlook a few things.
(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ Even better if I can grab some leverage and score myself a free worker~)
Tom silently plotted.
After saying goodbye to Neville (who needed to find a proper container for Trevor before he accidentally crushed his toad), the two of them returned to their original compartment. Hannah pulled out the snacks again.
"Oh, right—Tom, try this!"
Just as Tom picked up a glass of ice-cold pumpkin juice, Hannah shoved a small treat into his paw.
He took it instinctively—and immediately felt something move.
No way…
He looked down.
Sure enough, a Chocolate Frog, tightly wrapped in its packaging, was hopping around in his palm.
His expression instantly became complicated—half amused, half exasperated.
[Thanks, but no. Cats can't eat chocolate.]
"Oh… really?" Hannah said. "But Tom, you should be okay, right? I mean, you're special and all…"
As she spoke, her face flushed slightly, her voice growing quieter. The bright, cheerful Hannah from before was gone—she suddenly reminded him a little of Neville.
The vibe was almost…
Couple-like?
The word popped into Tom's head, along with a memory from the original story. Didn't Hannah and Neville eventually get married?
Not that it mattered to Tom. He already had adorable little Luna—more than enough for him. What happened to Hannah later wasn't his concern.
Still, to prevent future "incidents" like this, he put on a serious expression and warned her firmly:
[Yes, I'm not a normal cat—I'm a magical cat. But a cat is still a cat. If I get poisoned, that's a real problem.
That said, once we get to Hogwarts, I might test whether chocolate affects me. At least there will be healers there who can pull me back before I actually die… probably.]
He wasn't sure whether he could eat chocolate—but since he was still a cat, poisoning was a real risk. After becoming Tom, he hadn't touched chocolate even once.
Sure, he wouldn't die—but that didn't mean he wanted to experience what death felt like over a piece of candy. Near-death? Maybe. Actual death? No thanks.
(´-ω-`) Still… chocolate. I really miss that taste.)
As memories surfaced, Tom could almost feel the smooth, rich texture of chocolate melting on his tongue—so vivid it was like he'd just eaten some.
Wait… something's not right.
Tom's eyes flew open.
He'd been a cat for over ten years. How could he suddenly remember the taste of chocolate so clearly?
Even counting his previous life, the last time he'd eaten chocolate had to be fifteen or sixteen years ago.
So how… did he remember it this vividly?