With the Hogwarts Express finally arriving, the annual Start-of-Term Feast was about to begin.
Second- through seventh-years chatted excitedly about their holidays as they rode the Thestral-drawn carriages back to the castle.
The nervous first-years, meanwhile, swapped increasingly wild rumours about the Sorting Ceremony—tales they'd heard from parents or older siblings.
Those rumours reached fever pitch after they passed a procession of ghosts gliding through (and sometimes through) them, followed by the stern figure of Professor McGonagall.
The tiny witches and wizards lined up in anxious silence under her commanding gaze and filed into the Great Hall.
When they learned the Sorting would be done by a filthy, patched, ancient-looking hat that immediately burst into a rather off-key song, the entire group let out a collective sigh of relief.
Standing beside the Sorting Hat, Professor McGonagall held the parchment list and called the first name.
"Hannah Abbott."
The moment the name left her mouth, not only did every student and professor in the hall freeze—the entire room seemed to pause—but even McGonagall herself blinked in disbelief and quickly double-checked the list.
All eyes turned toward the Hufflepuff table, where a blonde girl with twin plaits had gone equally rigid.
Feeling the sudden weight of every stare, Hannah looked around in helpless confusion.
What was she supposed to do now? Go back to McGonagall for a re-Sorting?
For a heartbeat the entire hall felt frozen.
At the staff table, Tom—who had been happily nibbling a tiny cake—suddenly froze mid-bite.
He reached behind himself, yanked out a thick sheaf of parchment, flipped through it frantically…
…and whoosh—raced over to McGonagall, looking deeply apologetic as he handed her the correct student list.
With the proper names restored, the Sorting proceeded smoothly.
But when the final first-year scampered off to their table amid enthusiastic applause and Dumbledore rose to begin his welcoming speech—
Tom turned into a blue-grey whirlwind and planted himself firmly on the little four-legged stool.
Every first-year (and most of the older students) stared curiously.
They'd all just watched him deliver the missing list to McGonagall.
Now Tom pointed at the Sorting Hat, then tapped his own head.
"You want to be Sorted too, Tom?" McGonagall asked, amused.
Tom nodded vigorously, sat ramrod straight, and waited with perfect seriousness.
The sight of such earnest preparation from a cat sent ripples of laughter through students and staff alike.
McGonagall smiled, played along, called out "Tom!" in her best formal tone, and placed the Hat on his head.
"Oh, Merlin's woolly socks! Hogwarts has a cat this year? First time I've ever Sorted a feline!"
Muttering to itself, the Hat began probing Tom's mind.
"Hmm… longs for a warm home, doesn't want to be a stray, deeply considerate of family… oh, and clever too."
"My goodness, did you make all these things? You're quite the talented little fellow!"
At the praise, Tom lifted his chin proudly.
"Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw would both suit you nicely. Which would you prefer?"
Tom immediately looked torn.
Viktor was Hufflepuff—had made tons of friends there, said the badgers were gentle and great cooks just like him.
But Ravenclaws were so smart, every one of them full of personality.
He wanted friends and good food and to be a clever cat… how to choose?
Then—boing!—a lightbulb popped above his head.
In the shared mental space of cat and Hat, a tiny Tom appeared, yanked the Hat off his own head, and launched into an animated sequence of gestures and promises.
"Oh—oh my! How did you pull me into your imagination like that? And no—no, you can't have both houses!"
But after more frantic gesturing and solemn vows from Tom, the Hat finally relented with a sigh.
"Fine, fine… who am I to argue with a cat? You lot never follow rules anyway, do you?"
"HUFFLEPUFF AND RAVENCLAW!!!"
The Hat's shout echoed through the hall.
Both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables erupted in good-natured applause.
Just before the Hat was lifted off, its voice whispered one last time in Tom's mind:
"Hey, kitty—don't forget you promised to take me to the prefects' bathroom for a luxury wash!"
Sorting complete, Tom hopped off the stool in triumph.
With a casual tug at his fur, he transformed his explorer outfit into a perfectly tailored little formal suit.
Then—ever the gentleman—he bowed deeply to every clapping student in turn.
The applause grew even louder and warmer.
Only after Tom had basked sufficiently in the attention and trotted smugly back to Viktor's side did Dumbledore rise again to continue his speech.
"Welcome, everyone, to another year at Hogwarts! And this year we have the pleasure of welcoming two new professors—both already quite famous. Please join me in giving a warm welcome to our new Professor of Magical Creature Protection, Viktor Scamander… and our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart!"
Dumbledore led the applause with a broad smile.
Viktor and Lockhart both stood, waving graciously amid the cheers.
In the midst of the clapping and excitement, two small figures slipped quietly through the side door and hurried to the Gryffindor table.
Hermione—eyes shining with hero-worship as she stared at the staff table—didn't even turn around when they sat beside her.
"Hey, Harry, Ron—where have you two been? I didn't see you on the carriages at all."
Still gazing adoringly at the professors, she finally turned her head toward her friends.