"Listen, kids."
Hagrid hesitated, his expression turning grave. "The restricted area on the fourth floor was arranged by Dumbledore himself. Fluffy—I mean, that three-headed dog—he's mine. I lent him to Dumbledore."
"He's guarding somethin'... well, somethin' very important. For your own safety, don't go near there again. Promise me."
"But what exactly is he guarding?"
"No can do. That's a top-secret matter, an' I'm not tellin' ya."
...
Well, it was Hagrid. Despite his best efforts to be tight-lipped, under the tag-team questioning of Harry and Ron—and the subtle prodding from Hermione and the others—the name Nicolas Flamel eventually slipped out.
The moment the name left his lips, Hagrid let out a frustrated groan. He buried his face in his massive hands and grumbled, "Oh, blimey! Don't ask me anythin' else! Not another word, I mean it!"
He stomped over to a corner and began aggressively chewing on a rock cake, as if venting all his frustration on the pastry.
"Tom, what do you think is hidden on the fourth floor? And Nicolas Flamel... I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before."
Unlike Hannah, Ariana was a classic Gryffindor—adventure was in her blood. Plus, that name felt strangely familiar to her. She drifted over to Tom to see if he knew anything.
Tom, however, was completely indifferent. While the finer details were fuzzy, he remembered enough to know that the events of the first year were mostly under Dumbledore's control. Besides, with Ariana around, Hogwarts was arguably the safest place on earth. If the unknown Death Eater played by the script, fine. if not... well, good luck to them.
He gave Ariana a flat look.
[You want to know? Go ask your brother. Why ask me? I didn't set this whole thing up.]
Done with the mystery, Tom turned his attention to his own rock cake. He'd called them "stones" earlier, but watching Hagrid crunch through them with such gusto made Tom curious.
Maybe they're not that bad? Maybe they just have a bit of a snap to them. Let's give it a go!
Giving in to his appetite, Tom took a brave, massive bite.
CRUNCH!
The sound was followed by a very peculiar sensation. He'd successfully bitten off a piece, but... was this actually food? Was there a pebble hidden inside? He felt like he'd just bitten into one of the "Jerry-rigged" traps from his old life.
He looked at the rock cake, missing a corner, then felt the hard lump in his mouth. He tried to chew. It was... concerning.
"Merlin's pants!" Ron yelped, staring at Tom as if he'd just grown a second head. "You actually bit through that?!"
Harry was stunned. Were rock cakes actually edible by living creatures, or was Tom just built differently?
"Tom, are you okay? Those things are literally rocks. How did you... are your teeth okay?"
Tom's heart sank. He cracked a grin to show he was fine, revealing two rows of neat white teeth. A second later, those teeth shattered like fine china, clattering onto the floor in a heap of porcelain-like shards.
The cabin fell into a deathly silence.
"Oh no! Tom! Are you alright?" Hagrid forgot all about being grumpy. He scrambled over and knelt beside Tom, looking devastated. "I'm so sorry! I forgot to tell ya—ya have to soak 'em in tea first to soften 'em up!"
"I think we need to get him to the hospital wing. Right now," Hermione said. As a dentist's daughter, she could tell Tom's dental situation was beyond "bad." Though, in a world of magic, maybe there was a spell for this.
"I'll carry him to Madam Pomfrey myself!" Hagrid reached out to scoop Tom up.
[No need! I'm totally fine!] Tom wrote, though his smile was a bit strained.
Injuries like this were routine for him—he could regenerate from being a pile of ash, let alone a few missing teeth. He was mostly just wondering if he and Hagrid were cursed. In the short time they'd known each other, he'd already been "disaster-struck" twice!
"Nonsense, you need proper treatment," Hagrid insisted. He didn't care what the board said; he only believed what he saw. A toothless cat needed a professional.
But to Tom, this wasn't even a minor injury. He'd probably be healed before they even reached the castle. Unfortunately, even Ariana and Hannah sided with Hagrid this time. They knew Tom was special, but they didn't know the full extent of his cartoonish healing factor.
The room devolved into chaos. Tom resisted with all his might as everyone tried to "kidnap" him to the infirmary. He noticed a few hands were suspiciously aimed at his head and tail rather than his torso. Wait, are they just trying to pet me?!
Finally remembering he was a wizard, Tom flicked his tail and cast a group Levitation Charm. The room went quiet as everyone started floating helplessly.
While they were still processing, Tom hopped out the door, closed it, and immediately pushed it open again. Stepping back inside was a perfectly restored Tom, teeth white and straight as ever.
[See? I told you I was fine.]
Tom lowered everyone back to the ground. It worked, he thought. I can actually trigger my 'scene-reset' healing on purpose!
"How did you do that? A Mending Charm? But I thought that only worked on inanimate objects!" Hermione stared at Tom's mouth, her jaw dropping.
Ron rubbed his rear after hitting the floor. "That's way more impressive than anything Fred and George do."
As for Hagrid? He looked at the shattered teeth on the floor, then at the perfect teeth in Tom's mouth, looking utterly lost. "How... how'd ya do that?"
...
The night had turned into a bizarre fever dream. Having learned the name "Nicolas Flamel," the trio's investigative fire had dimmed, replaced by sheer exhaustion.
Between Hagrid's hand-over-mouth refusal to speak and Tom's self-repairing teeth, they decided it was time to head back. Hagrid walked them to the door, rubbing his hands nervously.
"Remember, stay away from that fourth floor. It's dangerous."
Harry and the others nodded, though whether they meant it or were just being polite was anyone's guess. Hagrid had said everything he could—the rest was up to fate.
---