"Hehe, surprised, are you? That's just how Madam Pomfrey is—in her mind, student health and safety always come first."
Seeming to notice Tom's astonishment, Dumbledore explained with a gentle smile, showing not the slightest hint of displeasure at Madam Pomfrey's recent defiance.
His blue eyes twinkled with that mixture of amusement and understanding that had calmed countless worried students over the decades.
"If something threatens student safety, forget me being Headmaster—even if the Minister of Magic himself showed up in person, she'd challenge him just the same."
"Meow." (I see)
Tom nodded with a look of enlightenment, his whiskers were twitching thoughtfully. His curiosity was satisfied on that particular matter, he suddenly remembered why Dumbledore had come here in the first place.
He straightened up, adopted his most serious catlike expression which involved flattening his ears just so and narrowing his green eyes and gazed intently at Dumbledore with an unblinking stare.
(So, what about my Sorting? Are you just going to assign me directly to a House, or will I not be assigned to any House at all for my studies? Please don't tell me I really have to wait until next year to enroll properly!)
Though he wouldn't call himself particularly concerned, Tom still hoped he could start school as soon as possible. The sooner he could learn proper spellcasting techniques, the faster he could solve his current inability to speak incantations aloud.
At the very least, he could acquire the ability to cast spells nonverbally more quickly—a skill that would prove invaluable for a cat who couldn't exactly pronounce Latin or anything properly.
'Speaking of which, couldn't I just ask Dumbledore to help me solve this problem? As for payment...'
He patted the enormous sack slung across his small body with one paw, feeling its reassuring weight.
'Bringing his sister back should be more than enough to settle that debt, right? (￣ω￣)'
Unaware of Tom's mercenary train of thought, Dumbledore maintained his warm smile.
However, remembering Madam Pomfrey's stern warning, he refrained from teasing the cat too outrageously this time.
Instead, he simply indicated that he had a way to resolve the enrollment issue, then proceeded to inform Tom of the important matters he needed to know for the current term.
Watching Tom's increasingly anxious expression, Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, before finally speaking directly.
"Don't worry. As I said, I'll make sure you're placed in the House that suits you best."
(Then just tell me already! What's with all this mysterious suspense?!)
"Very well, since you're so eager."
Dumbledore paused and Tom's eye began to twitch with the familiar sensation of impending cartoon violence as the oldie wizard held the dramatic silence just a beat too long before slowly continuing under the cat's increasingly murderous glare.
"The Sorting is merely a process; there's no particularly special ceremony attached to it. Turning the Sorting into a ceremonial event serves more to help young witches and wizards integrate into their Houses more quickly and feel that sense of belonging from the very start.
As for your future House... once you've recovered, I'll conduct a private Sorting ceremony just for you."
(You can do that?)
"Of course. Hogwarts' rules are actually quite flexible, you see. As long as you're not breaking school rules directly in front of a professor, generally speaking, there won't be any major problems." The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly.
'This is also why the school employs Filch as caretaker.'
Dumbledore winked at Tom in a gesture so quick it might have been imagined.
In his assessment, a cat like Tom who possessed both courage and abundant curiosity (as evidenced by his daring enough to eat chocolate) would most likely be Sorted into Gryffindor.
Combined with a cat's natural tendencies toward nocturnal mischief, he had decided to make his hints just a touch more explicit to avoid having rules interfere with the young cat's mental and emotional development.
After all, what was the point of being a cat at Hogwarts if you couldn't prowl the corridors after hours occasionally?
(So the school rules are basically just for show?)
"Uh... certainly not! If you're caught, you'll still face the appropriate consequences!" Dumbledore's tone turned slightly more serious, though his eyes still sparkled with humor.
Seeing that Tom still wanted to press for more details, Dumbledore quickly stood up.
"Right then, remember what I've told you, along with the school's general guidelines. As for the Sorting, just come find me in the Headmaster's office once you've recovered sufficiently. I have other matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave now."
Having said this, he didn't even give Tom time to react before hurrying out of the hospital wing with surprising speed for a man of his age, his purple robes were wafting behind him like he was fleeing an angry Hippogriff.
'(´-﹏-`;) I still had so many questions to ask! And I haven't even shown him this yet—why did Dumbledore run off so quickly?'
With this thought, Tom pulled out a cloth sack from somewhere on his person. Loosening the drawstring, he opened the mouth of the bag, and a witch's figure floated out from within, emerging like morning mist over the Black Lake.
Unlike conventional ghosts that drifted through Hogwarts' corridors in pearly translucence, her form retained vibrant, vivid colors. However, at this moment, her face was puffed up indignantly like a disgruntled pufferfish, her arms were crossed over her chest.
"Tom! Why didn't you let me come out to say hello to my brother Albus?!"
"Meow~"
"What did you say?"
Clearly, Ariana who had been able to understand Tom's speech earlier could no longer comprehend cat language now. The magical translation that had existed in that white space between life and death apparently didn't extend to the corporeal world of Hogwarts.
Seeing this development, Tom stroked his chin with one paw, falling into contemplation as his tail curled thoughtfully around his feet.
'So she could understand me before because that space was special? Or was it because I was also in soul form then, which allowed us to communicate normally?'
Though quite curious about the exact reason, looking at the huffing teenage ghost before him, he temporarily suppressed his urge to conduct experiments. Besides, as a cat, he was far too lazy to overthink such metaphysical complications. Some mysteries could wait for another day.
Therefore, Tom abandoned his philosophical considerations and pulled out a small whiteboard, scribbling on it with a marker he produced from behind his ear with typical cartoon logic:
[It's not that I didn't want you to meet Dumbledore! He didn't give me any opportunity, okay?! I could hardly pull you out in the middle of his speech, could I?!]
His original plan had been to let Ariana out for this sibling reunion after finishing the official business with Dumbledore.
How could he have known the man would dash off so quickly after delivering his message, moving with all the haste of a student fleeing Snape's detentions?
Tom hadn't even managed to get a word or meow in edgewise!
"Hmm, I suppose... you're right about that?" Ariana's expression softened, her puffed cheeks were gradually deflating.
Though she'd been stuffed in the sack tucked away in some corner of Tom's person through cartoon physics, Ariana had still been able to hear the conversation outside, muffled though it was. She knew that Albus had left hastily once he'd finished explaining matters.
Thus successfully diverted from her initial complaint, the girl who had been ready to scold Tom let the matter drop with surprising ease.
"Oh well, if it's my brother's fault, then I won't blame you~
Tom, you need to get better quickly! Recover soon so you can take me to see him!" The ghost girl gazed at him with eyes full of eager anticipation, practically glowing with hope.
[Mm, if you're that anxious, I can take you there right now.]
Tom suggested, tapping the whiteboard with his marker for emphasis.
Truthfully, he was incredibly curious about which House he'd be Sorted into—he wanted to meet the legendary Sorting Hat that everyone spoke of with such awe and occasional apprehension. A
talking hat that could read minds? That was even better than some of the contraptions he'd faced in his ongoing feud with Jerry.
As for Dumbledore telling him to wait until he'd recovered before seeking him out... well, don't forget—this was Tom!
Tom from Tom and Jerry, the cat who could be flattened by anvils, stretched like taffy, blown up by dynamite, and still bounce back within seconds!
Tom's greatest ability wasn't intelligence or magical power—it was his absolutely invincible, indestructible body coupled with recovery abilities that were absolutely first-rate! His regeneration would make a phoenix jealous.
Though his poison resistance admittedly wasn't very high (he'd nearly been done in by just a few chocolate frogs, of all the embarrassing ways to go), that was about his only weakness.
His recovery speed was still remarkably fast, operating on cartoon physics that laughed in the face of normal biological limitations.
Just during the time he'd been awake, his body had already completely recovered from the chocolate poisoning. Every whisker was in place, every pad on his paws were springy and whole.
"Are you sure it's okay? But didn't my brother say..."
Ariana looked both eager and worried, torn between her desires. Though she desperately wanted to see her brother, she didn't want to hurt one of her very few friends in the process. Her translucent hands twisted together anxiously.
[No problem—I've completely recovered already! So there's nothing to worry about.]
Tom's whiskers twitched with confidence as he wrote, his tail standing were straight up in a gesture of certainty.
"Then... shall we go right now?" Ariana's eyes lit up like Lumos charms at his confirmation.
She could hardly contain her eagerness, bouncing slightly in that way ghosts did when excited—not quite floating, not quite jumping.
[Let's go!]
With that declaration, Tom nimbly leaped down from the hospital bed. He grabbed the white bedsheet in his paws, manipulated it with a few expert movements that would have impressed any stage magician, then draped it over himself with a flourish.
[Disguise complete—let's move out!]
"Oh!" Ariana clapped her hands together, looking delighted.
And so, one cat and one ghost slipped out of the hospital wing under the bedsheet's protection, moving through the doorway like a small, lumpy ghost itself
Tom had awakened near nightfall, and with the time they'd spent talking, it was now approaching midnight.
The castle corridors were completely deserted at this hour, with only a few ghosts occasionally drifting past them.
'Thank goodness I'm not the Tom from the cartoon, otherwise forget staying in a place like this for six years—I'd be scared to death after even one second!'
Tom thought to himself, remembering all those episodes where his counterpart had been reduced to a trembling, fur-standing-on-end mess by the mere hint of the supernatural.
Ghosts, monsters, mysterious sounds, they'd all sent cartoon Tom racing for the hills with his legs spinning like wheels.
Just as he was privately congratulating himself on his relative bravery—
"CRASH! CLANG! CLATTER!"
A deafening crash suddenly erupted from directly over their head, echoing through the stone corridor with the force of a giant's drumming concert. It sounded like someone had knocked over an entire suit of armor, possibly while simultaneously dropping a crate of cauldrons down a flight of stairs.
"MEOOOOOW!!!"
The sudden noise made Tom's fur explode out in every direction until he resembled nothing so much as a startled black dandelion.
He let out a piercing, agonized shriek that would have done any alley cat proud, his back was arching into that classic Halloween cat silhouette as every instinct screamed DANGER.