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With Newt and Nicolas's arrival, Tom's peaceful life suddenly got a lot more "exciting." Not that he actually wanted the extra noise.
If it had just been Nicolas, that would've been fine. Tom actually wanted to learn alchemy. The real problem was Newt.
Even with Dumbledore's blessing—and being over ninety years old—the old magizoologist was bursting with a ridiculous amount of energy. Between teaching classes and helping Ariana with her Obscurus, he loved nothing more than sneaking off to go tromping through the Forbidden Forest.
Because of this, Tom had to play the part of the enthusiastic magical creature fan and tag along on Newt's expeditions. He couldn't risk Newt stumbling across Norberta, getting overly excited, and snatching the "new species" straight into his magical suitcase.
It wasn't a complete act, though. After living with Luna and basically being half magical creature himself, Tom really did like animals.
But liking them didn't mean he wanted to go crawling through the damp woods every other day! Honestly, if Newt didn't have a teaching schedule, and if Tina hadn't shown up at Hogwarts, Tom was half-convinced the old man would have just built a tent in the forest and lived there.
Where the hell does a ninety-year-old get this much stamina? Tom thought irritably. If only Nicolas had half his energy.
It was a real shame. Nicolas was supposed to be here to discuss alchemy and teach Tom how to bring inanimate objects to life. But Tom hadn't actually laid eyes on the ancient alchemist in forever.
Whenever Tom finished one of Nicolas's alchemy journals and handed it back to Lareus, the mechanical butler would just hand him the next one in the stack.
Sure, Tom was a ridiculously fast learner, but he was still trying to digest centuries of Nicolas's accumulated experience. It wasn't that Nicolas was actively dodging him, though. The poor guy just didn't have the energy to spare anymore.
As for why? Somehow, Dumbledore had worked his manipulative magic and convinced Nicolas Flamel to stay on as Hogwarts' new Alchemy Professor!
When Tom heard the news, he was completely floored. This was Nicolas Flamel—the ultimate granddaddy of all wizards, clocking in at over six hundred years old. Was Dumbledore really resorting to exploiting senior citizen labor? Did Beauxbatons even know about this?
Beauxbatons was Nicolas's alma mater. It was where he met his wife, Perenelle. And yet, he had never once taught a class there!
I can only imagine how pissed off the Beauxbatons students are going to be when they find out he's teaching at Hogwarts, Tom thought maliciously.
Nicolas, however, was having the time of his life. Even his wife, Perenelle, had accepted Dumbledore's invitation and didn't seem to mind. He was genuinely shocked to discover that a tiny school like Hogwarts housed several absolute prodigies in alchemy.
Setting aside Tom, who was basically a walking cheat code, the Weasley twins had serious talent. Sure, they poured all their skill points into making prank toys, but it proved they had a deep, instinctual grasp of alchemy.
Then there was the explosion maestro himself, Seamus. In Nicolas's eyes, the kid was a chaotic genius. Like the twins, Seamus was severely hyper-focused on one specific area, but to a master like Nicolas, that didn't matter.
Over his long life, Nicolas had mastered practically every branch of alchemy known to man. He could easily guide a specialized talent. But since Seamus was only a first-year, Nicolas just laid down the groundwork and left it at that.
Thanks to taking on actual students, plus his failing stamina, Nicolas had essentially ghosted Tom. Tom wasn't like the other kids. His talent was just flat-out terrifying.
Nicolas had never met someone who could skim a notebook, instantly master the techniques, and then reverse-engineer them to make them even better. Things that were just rough theories in the margins of the notes? Tom would casually fill in the blanks and perfect them.
Teaching a genius like that completely stripped Nicolas of any sense of accomplishment. Combine that with Tom's wild, unhinged ideas and experiments that sounded insane but somehow worked flawlessly, and Nicolas had decided to just let the cat run wild. He was terrified Tom was going to shatter his worldview.
Now, Nicolas's only job was acting as a book delivery service. He even secretly worried that if he gave Tom the last few advanced journals, the cat might just rewrite the foundational laws of alchemy from scratch.
But for the sake of his own sanity, he stuck to the plan, feeding Tom the notes in chronological order so the cat could figure it out himself.
Even so, Tom's god-tier learning speed left Nicolas feeling incredibly conflicted. He finally understood the old saying: "Genius is just the entry fee to speak to me."
To the rest of the world, Nicolas Flamel was the ultimate prodigy, the only man to conquer alchemy's greatest peak. To Tom? He was basically just a smart guy standing on the sidewalk. The gap between people was seriously wider than the gap between a human and a dog.
Nicolas still couldn't wrap his head around it. Non-enchantment alchemy relied heavily on the rule of equivalent exchange. So how the hell was Tom turning ordinary cheese into solid gold? Or transmuting roadside weeds into valuable magical ingredients? Sure, the quality was low, but they were still functional magical materials!
When asked, Tom just shrugged and said he was following equivalent exchange. It was just that he decided what the standard of equivalence was.
To Tom, a chunk of cheese or a good meal was just as valuable as gold. And magical ingredients? They were just slightly pricier weeds. In fact, since the lawns got mowed all the time, it was easier for him to generate magical materials than to go forage for actual grass!
If they were worth the same to him, why couldn't he use alchemy to "exchange" them? Of course, this subjective, reality-bending exchange wasn't a free-for-all. It relied entirely on his own willpower and perception.
As long as he truly believed two things were equal, he could transmute one into the other. And since he set his own rules, he could basically swap whatever he wanted.
Nicolas didn't care about the philosophy behind it. After watching Tom turn a teacup into cheese, and then the cheese into gold, he swore he would avoid the cat as much as possible. His ancient heart couldn't take any more shocks.
As time ticked on, winter finally arrived. A damp, freezing fog blanketed Hogwarts, icing over the Black Lake and dusting the castle grounds with frost. Despite the bitter chill, the school's most hyped outdoor event kicked off right on schedule: Quidditch.
Tom couldn't have cared less about the sport, but Hannah and the others dragged him out to watch a few matches to cheer for Hufflepuff, and eventually, for Harry.
With Quirrell conveniently out of the picture early, Harry performed brilliantly. He snatched the Golden Snitch with barely any effort, scoring a vital 150 points for Gryffindor.
"Harry was incredible!" Ron and Hermione gushed excitedly after the game. Draco, however, sat off to the side, looking completely sour. His precious Slytherin team had just taken a beating.
If Quidditch rankings didn't factor in total points—and Slytherin hadn't scored heavily with the Quaffle—he probably would have been throwing a full-blown tantrum.
Tom sat next to Draco, looking just as bored. With his insane, feline dynamic vision, Quidditch was an absolute snooze fest. From his perspective, Harry had completely missed several prime opportunities to catch the Snitch simply because he hadn't noticed it buzzing right past his ear.
If Tom had been playing, he could have completely shut out the opposing team without even factoring in flying skills. Watching such a slow, clunky game was painful.
I could be using this time to help Newt figure out the properties of Ariana's Obscurus, Tom thought, yawning lazily. At least that would get us closer to building her a real body.
He had been obsessing over how to forge a perfect, matched physical body for Ariana, but progress was agonizingly slow. Even with Dumbledore and Aberforth's help, there was no way to extract a pure sample of Ariana's original DNA.
Not even Nicolas Flamel could pull that off. Flamel's best suggestion had been building an alchemy golem to act as a temporary vessel. But a golem was still just a dead, mechanical thing. It wasn't flesh and blood, and that wasn't what Dumbledore wanted.
He wanted his sister truly alive, living a normal human life—not piloting a fake puppet. At one point, Tom had seriously considered just grabbing a shovel and robbing her grave for a DNA sample.
But Newt's recent research had sparked a brilliant new idea. Yes, Ariana was a ghost right now, but she was also an Obscurial! When she shifted into her Obscurus form, even as a spirit, she manifested a unique, physical "body."
Newt's whole research angle relied on extracting a tiny fragment of Obscurus tissue from her while she was shifted. With the right magical treatment, that extracted Obscurus tissue wouldn't vanish when she shifted back to human form.
The connection between an Obscurus and its host was incredibly deep. When an Obscurial transformed, their physical body essentially merged with the parasitic magic. That meant the Obscurus was basically made out of the host's body.
If Tom could strip away the volatile magic, he might be left with a perfectly preserved, 100% accurate genetic sample of Ariana. It was the perfect blueprint for her new body.
"Ariana, Tom, do you two have a minute? I could use some help."
Speak of the devil. Just as Tom was thinking about tracking him down, Newt popped up right on cue.
[Sure thing. Hey Harry, we've got to run. Great game, keep it up next time,] Tom signed casually before walking off with Ariana.
"Tom, you really didn't seem to care about the match at all, did you?" Ariana asked curiously as they walked.
[I can't help it. You have to understand, a cat's dynamic vision is way better than a human's. That whole match felt like it was playing in slow motion for me.]
[I counted at least five times the Snitch practically brushed past Harry. If he had just stuck his hand out, the game would have ended hours ago. How am I supposed to get excited about that?]
"Huh... I guess that makes sense," Ariana replied, blinking as she processed that. Putting herself in his paws... yeah, she'd probably be bored out of her mind too!
Naturally, she planned to keep Tom's secret safe. She was a Gryffindor, after all. If Tom, with his broken, overpowered abilities, joined the Quidditch team, the entire sport would just turn into "The Tom Show."
With his reflexes and absurd broom skills, he'd embarrass professional players, let alone Hogwarts kids. If he ever suited up for Hufflepuff, they'd be guaranteed the Cup every single year. The only way anyone else could win would be if all three other houses teamed up to aggressively farm points.
Ariana kept her mouth shut, but Newt had been listening to their exchange. He mentally filed the information away, but as for recommending Tom to the team? Hell no.
He wasn't Hufflepuff's Head of House. He was just an expelled outsider; getting involved in school sports politics was a terrible idea. Still, if Tom ever did change his mind and wanted to play, Newt wouldn't mind acting as the middleman and giving Professor Sprout a heads-up.
[By the way, Professor Scamander, how are Norberta, Cosmia, and Stellaris doing?] Tom asked. Cosmia was the adult unicorn he had saved, and Stellaris was her golden foal.
You can guard against thieves, but you can't protect yourself from your own family. Tom had spent weeks keeping Newt away from Norberta. But one day, while they were strolling through the Forbidden Forest, little Stellaris had sensed Tom and happily galloped over.
Norberta and Cosmia had chased right after the foal, completely exposing the whole operation. As a result, the "dragon babysitting club" had officially gained a new member.
Fortunately, while Newt was deeply fascinated by Norberta—a seemingly unique breed of fire dragon—he was too old to go rogue and stuff her in his suitcase. Especially once he realized she was jointly raised by Tom, Ariana, and the others.
"Oh, they're thriving. With Norberta's fire and keen nose, they don't have to worry about freezing or finding food," Newt said, unable to stop a proud, grandfatherly smile from spreading across his face as he pictured the trio.
Honestly, if he hadn't made a promise to Tom, and if he were just a few decades younger, he might have actually packed them all up and kept them for himself.