A One-Man Demon

Caesar steered the story back to the present: "In your view, a law against stealing is moral, but to Donn, it's immoral. To you, a house-elf contract is immoral, but to some people, it's moral."

"Caesar, if it were you, what would you do?"

After a long moment, Hermione turned her pleading gaze to Caesar—the one she loved and trusted most. She believed his choice wouldn't let her down.

"I would break the rules for my own morality." Caesar answered without a second's hesitation, so swiftly it surprised Hermione.

Taking Hermione's hand, Caesar began walking toward the bustling street, a playful smile curling on his lips:

"One day, if you're starving and I have no choice but to steal butterbeer, would you turn me in?"

"Of course not." Hermione shook her head firmly.

"Hermione."

Caesar's expression suddenly turned serious, as if stating a simple truth: "If that day ever comes, and you have to arrest me, I won't resist."

In the original story, Hermione possessed extraordinary intelligence, courage, and loyalty, but she also had distinct, genuine personality flaws—stubbornness, perfectionism, pride, and arrogance.

Yet these flaws gradually faded beneath her innate kindness and her interactions with Harry and Ron.

Caesar deeply admired the vivid girl from the original tale; if not for her lack of raw power, she could have grown into another Dumbledore.

But in this simulation, if the girl were to develop with that same uprightness as in the original, it would actually be a problem for Caesar.

Given their current relationship, if Caesar ever wanted to do something big—like Grindelwald—Hermione would likely be the first to stop him.

Just like Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

Maybe Hermione would grieve for a while after capturing him, but time's power would wash away all feelings, even love.

Caesar had no desire to be locked up until death like Grindelwald.

A tragic ending didn't suit Caesar.

It was like that old online story about an angel and a demon:

The angel would sacrifice you to save everyone, while the demon would sacrifice everyone to save you!

The original Hermione was wonderful—she was everyone's angel.

Back then, Caesar was part of "everyone."

But now, with his identity shifted, he wanted Hermione to be his personal demon, always on his side, using her brilliant mind to scheme for him.

Unconditionally fallen, forever and ever!

"Pfft!"

Hermione's previously tense face burst into a smile, like flowers blooming in a spring breeze, warmth filling her heart: "Caesar, don't worry. I won't just not arrest you—I'll help you steal."

"See? It's actually simple to figure out."

Caesar's tone returned to calm as he continued: "Remember that railway strike the other day? The British government outside can't maintain its old welfare policies anymore. They change the rules to hurt workers for their own benefit, but the workers' strike hurts the passengers who paid for tickets. Everyone breaks the rules based on their own beliefs. You don't need to overthink it—just do what you want. If you'd lost control just now, I'd have helped you fight them. Honestly, I don't like the Malfoys either, but you held back."

"Then... how about we go back and teach them a lesson now?!"

Hermione stared straight at Caesar, her gaze tender and resolute—tenderness for him, resolve at the memory of that white-haired boy's face.

Caesar ruffled Hermione's brownish hair and said lightly, "No rush. Draco will be your classmate soon. You'll have plenty of time to do whatever you want."

"That's great!" Hermione's face lit up with a smile. She had never been one to shy away from trouble. Thinking of Draco's attitude toward her—she, who had been doted on since childhood—wouldn't just sit back like Harry. "I'll give him a good lesson."

She hadn't wanted to cause trouble for Caesar when she first came to Hogwarts, but hearing his words, it seemed she had backup. No need to hold back.

She, Hermione Granger, was never a girl who just took losses!

Caesar nodded slightly: "No problem. I've prepared a wand for you to realize all your ideals. Let me show you."

Leaving the quiet corner, the noisy sunlight and vitality of Diagon Alley rushed toward them.

Caesar led Hermione with clear purpose toward the small, shabby wand shop.

Ollivander: Fine wands since 382 B.C.

The little bell on the door chimed a crisp, weary sound as they entered, as if the thousand-year-old dust danced slowly in the light streaming through the window.

Just as Hermione curiously surveyed the countless wand boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling, a soft voice came from the top of a tall ladder:

"Good afternoon... oh!"

Before the words finished, Mr. Ollivander, with his tousled white hair, suddenly froze on the ladder.

Those large, pale eyes of his, like twin moons, instantly widened even further, locking onto Caesar with an unyielding stare.

The long measuring rod in his hand clattered to the dusty floor with a thud, yet he didn't even notice.

"It's you?!" Ollivander's voice lost its usual ethereal and mysterious quality, taking on a genuine tremor that could almost be called shock.

He scrambled down the ladder in a fluster, his movements betraying an eagerness that seemed out of place for his age, nearly tripping over the hem of his robes.

He strode quickly over to Caesar, tilting his head back, his gaze like that of an appraiser examining a long-lost masterpiece, or perhaps confirming that the figure before him was no illusion.

"Mr. Caesar! It really is you!"

Ollivander's tone brimmed with an incredulous joy; he even instinctively reached out to touch Caesar's arm to verify the reality.

But he stopped mid-motion, his hands shifting to an excited rub, like a craftsman meeting the legendary supplier of his materials.

"So long, by Merlin's Beard! You've finally come!"

Caesar gave the man a big hug. "Mr. Ollivander, judging by your expression, did the wand I asked you to craft for me turn out well?"

Last year, at the summit of the world, he had obtained the materials from the One-Winged Bird. One portion was used to make two necklaces.

The other portion he entrusted to Ollivander to craft into a wand, agreeing to return in a year to collect it.

"Of course!"

With that, old Mr. Ollivander carefully brought out two long, ancient-looking boxes placed side by side.

His gaze passed over Hermione and landed on Caesar.

"Mr. Caesar," Ollivander's voice carried an ethereal quality, as if reciting an epic poem:

"That pair of incredible materials you provided last year, after a long period of waiting and adjustment, have finally found their ultimate forms. They have been waiting for this day."

He opened the two boxes. Inside, lined with deep purple velvet, lay two wands, resting silently.

The one on the left was a deep brown wood, its grain forceful and powerful, as if containing the power of a storm. The shaft bore faint, spiral natural patterns, like swirling updrafts.

The one on the right was more slender and elegant, the wood slightly lighter in color with a warm luster, its grain as soft as rippling water.