The Menacing Cat's
The early morning air was thick with silence, only the occasional crackle from the fireplace breaking it. The house had yet to fully wake, but Tom’s eyes had been open for hours. He didn’t need sleep, not anymore, not since his revival from the diary, and so he wandered the empty halls, his mind always whirring, analyzing every possible angle.
He found himself at the edge of the room where Harry and Teeth often spent the night. It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to retreat here after a long day, and Teeth, the ever-loyal companion, would follow closely behind. But what Tom wasn’t expecting was the scene before him when he entered the room.
There, nestled on the old leather couch near the fire, were Harry and Teeth. The maniacal creature, Teeth, lay curled up in a ball like an oversized cat, his monstrous form almost too large for the space. Harry, too, was curled in a similar fashion next to him—his body twisted in a way that seemed far too unnatural, yet comfortable. Both of them were so still that they looked like statues, two deadly, silent figures tucked together in an eerie, yet strangely peaceful, tableau.
For a moment, Tom stood there, watching them. The sight was almost surreal. Harry, the cold and calculating Slytherin he had become so accustomed to, looked entirely different in his sleep—or perhaps, it wasn’t sleep at all. He looked like a child, vulnerable and unguarded, nestled against a creature who was, in Tom’s mind, a potential weapon. There was something about the way Harry’s head rested on Teeth’s massive form that made Tom pause.
The silence stretched for a long while, but Tom’s mind continued to churn. There were so many things he didn’t understand about this peculiar situation. The relationship between Harry and Teeth, for example. The creature was a mystery—massive, imposing, and clearly loyal to Harry, but how far did that loyalty go? And how much was Harry truly aware of the threat Teeth posed?
Tom had long suspected that Teeth was more than just a mindless beast. His instincts were too sharp, his demeanor too calculating. Harry, too, seemed oddly attuned to him. Tom couldn’t help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface, if Harry was hiding something even darker.
Eventually, as the morning light began to creep through the cracks in the curtains, Harry stirred, shifting slightly in his sleep—his body a long, fluid line as he stretched out and let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. Teeth didn’t move. If anything, he only shifted his massive head, his glowing eyes briefly catching Tom’s.
Tom made his way closer, but Harry remained oblivious to his presence. He was still too deep in slumber, or perhaps not sleeping at all.
It was only a few minutes later, when Harry blinked awake and sat up with a lazy stretch, that Tom finally spoke.
“You’re awake early,” Tom said, his tone sharp as he surveyed the scene.
Harry glanced up at him, momentarily disoriented, before the sleepy haze lifted from his eyes. He was fully awake now, but his smile was still a touch sleepy, the warmth of the fire casting shadows over his face. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep well. I guess Teeth needed some rest too.” His eyes flicked to the large creature, who had yet to move.
Tom raised an eyebrow, his mind immediately sharp. “Teeth is quite... imposing. I’ve been meaning to ask you about him.”
Harry tilted his head, as if considering how much to reveal. “What do you want to know?” he asked nonchalantly, his voice still carrying the remnants of a relaxed calmness.
“I’ve been thinking,” Tom began, his gaze never leaving Teeth, “about how useful Teeth could be. He’s clearly not just a simple beast.” He allowed the implication to hang in the air for a moment, letting Harry catch the subtle challenge in his tone.
Harry chuckled softly, rubbing his face with one hand. “Useful? You have no idea how useful he is.” His eyes flicked to Teeth, who had finally begun to stir, stretching his impossibly long limbs with a low growl.
“Tell me,” Tom pressed, his curiosity piqued. “If you were to pit him against someone—how far would he go?”
Harry met Tom’s gaze, and for the first time, a dark amusement flickered in his eyes. “Fully agitated? Teeth could probably take out 2,000 people in a single night. He’s not just muscle—he’s quick, brutal, and precise. He doesn’t need to think, he just does. The sheer destruction he’s capable of…” Harry’s voice trailed off, the casualness of it all almost unsettling. “He’s terrifying when he’s angry.”
Tom froze for a moment, his heart rate picking up at the sheer audacity of the claim. His mind couldn’t quite grasp the full scale of it. Two thousand people. It was more than just a number—it was an entire portion of Wizarding Britain wiped out. And then, the realization hit him.
Wizarding Britain—how many were there? Three thousand people, give or take. Tom’s mind worked furiously as he ran the numbers, considering the implications. Teeth could wipe out the majority of the magical population in a single night. And here Harry was, speaking of him so nonchalantly, as though it were a regular conversation about a house pet.
“Two thousand,” Tom repeated, voice barely above a whisper. His disbelief was clear, but there was an edge to it. “In one night?”
“Yeah,” Harry said casually, like it was the least impressive thing in the world. He yawned, completely unaware of Tom’s shock. “That’s what I said.”
Tom was struck dumb. He had expected power, yes, but not this scale. Harry wasn’t exaggerating; Tom could feel it in his gut. Teeth was no simple creature. He was a force, and Harry had control over him. It wasn’t just a weapon at Harry’s disposal—it was an army. And Harry was the commander.
Tom struggled to regain his composure. “I see,” he said slowly, his voice colder now. “That’s... remarkable.”
Harry shrugged, as if this was all very matter-of-fact. “I wouldn’t take advantage of Teeth like that, though. He’s not a weapon to me, Tom. He’s my companion.”
Tom studied Harry’s face for a moment, the flicker of something unspoken passing between them. Harry’s words didn’t quite match the implications of his actions, but Tom would bide his time. There were far too many unanswered questions—too many layers to uncover.
“You have an interesting relationship with Teeth,” Tom said finally, his voice carefully neutral. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
Harry gave him a lazy grin, almost too innocent, before turning his attention back to Teeth, who had finally stretched out fully, massive muscles rippling as he yawned.
“Yeah, well,” Harry said with a small shrug, “he’s been through a lot, and so have I. We look out for each other.”
Tom’s thoughts whirred again. This wasn’t just about power—it was about something else. Something far more complex. And in that moment, Tom made a decision: he would watch Harry closely. He would wait. He would learn. There was far more to this boy—and to Teeth—than Tom had ever considered. And that, more than anything, made them dangerous.