Gryffindor

After disembarking, Caesar said goodbye to Hermione.

As a Ravenclaw instructor, he also had to accompany his direct superior and Head of House, Professor Filius Flitwick, to the Sorting Ceremony and the opening feast.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!"

Professor McGonagall waited for the first-years at the entrance to the Great Hall, dressed in a solemn black robe.

Even as she welcomed them, her face remained stern. Anyone who didn't know her might have assumed she was a wizard who was strict to the point of being heartless.

"In a few moments, you'll pass through this door. But before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your Houses—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin."

Just then, a small hand went up. It was Hermione's.

McGonagall gave a slight nod, inviting her to ask her question.

"May I ask which House Professor Caesar belongs to?"

It was only when she heard about the Sorting Ceremony that Hermione realized she had never asked which House Caesar belonged to.

"Caesar?" At the name, a trace of surprise crossed McGonagall's calm gaze before she understood. "You're Miss Hermione Granger. No wonder."

"Professor Caesar Habs will be your Ancient Magic History professor. He belongs to Ravenclaw. Though young, he's a very learned professor."

Then McGonagall turned her gaze toward a few students who seemed eager to speak, and continued her interrupted explanation:

"While you're at school, your House will be like your family. Good conduct can earn points for your House. Misbehavior will cost it points. At the end of the school year, the House with the most points will win the House Cup."

As soon as she finished speaking, a pet toad suddenly hopped out of the crowd. A chubby boy named Neville hurried over to catch it, apologizing to McGonagall repeatedly.

McGonagall only said, "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin," before turning and pushing open the door.

As they waited, the curious children began chatting with one another. Two of them stood out in particular.

One was Hermione, and the other was Draco.

Most of those gathered around Hermione were curious about her relationship with Professor Caesar.

Meanwhile, nearly everyone gathered around Draco Malfoy was a familiar face from a Pure-blood wizard family.

In this era, the few remaining Pure-blood families had to band together if they wanted to retain any voice in the wizarding world.

They might still seem influential, but they were already like the last rays of the setting sun, destined to be swept away by the tide of time.

Hermione spotted Draco Malfoy, whom she had seen earlier that day. Her gaze cut through the crowd and landed squarely on him as several ideas for how to "pay him back" flashed through her mind.

Draco seemed to sense her gaze and looked back at her.

He hated the look in Hermione's eyes. It wasn't the look of someone meeting an equal's gaze, but of a superior looking down on an inferior, a hunter watching its prey.

"Mudblood," he said in a low, arrogant voice. "I don't know how you got to know a Hogwarts professor, but don't think that can change your blood."

"I'll make you regret what you just said every day from now on." Hermione's hand had already slipped into her sleeve and closed around her wand.

After her conversation with Caesar earlier that day, she had already prepared herself. She had a hundred ways to make the foul-mouthed boy in front of her regret his words.

"Are you threatening me? I'm a Malfoy, Draco Malfoy..."

"Pfft!"

Draco was proudly emphasizing his family name when Ron, the red-haired boy beside him, couldn't hold back a laugh.

Though both were Pure-blood families, the Weasley family had chosen a path utterly different from the Malfoys', who foolishly imagined they could swim against the tide.

He had always despised this kind of blindly arrogant Pure-blood attitude.

Mocked, Draco glared at him. "Red hair, old robes—you must be from the Weasley family..."

He couldn't finish again. Professor McGonagall's voice rang out behind them. "Everything is ready inside. Follow me."

Seeing this, Hermione released her wand from her tight grip inside her sleeve.

Everyone entered the Great Hall.

Enchanted candlelight sparkled across the ceiling of the Hogwarts Great Hall like stars, while excitement and anticipation filled the air around the four House tables at the start of the new school year.

Caesar sat with the other teachers at the High Table, watching the group of first-years with some curiosity.

Dumbledore sat in the center. After announcing several important rules to the first-years, he began the Sorting Ceremony.

Soon, Hermione's name was called. She was still secretly searching for Caesar when she heard it, and felt as though her heart were about to leap out of her throat.

She could feel the gaze of the entire school focused on her.

When the battered Sorting Hat was placed on her head and blocked her view, a faint voice sounded in her ear:

"Hmm... very interesting. A brilliant mind, a thirst for knowledge, clear logic, and boundless curiosity... Without a doubt, Ravenclaw would suit you perfectly."

Hermione's heart gave a sharp leap.

Ravenclaw!

The House Caesar belonged to!

She almost blurted out, "I want to go there!"

Being in the same House as Caesar would be the most perfect beginning she could imagine. Her eyes instinctively turned toward the teachers' table, searching for the familiar figure.

But the Sorting Hat's voice sounded again, this time with a hint of hesitation:

"But wait, what's this? Such a strong desire to prove yourself—very strong indeed—and a stubborn refusal to give up. You can be rather obstinate, too."

"You don't blindly follow established rules. Deep down, there's a fire burning to change the status quo. Those aren't traits unique to Ravenclaw."

"Slytherin could also help you achieve greatness and prove your worth..."

At the mention of Slytherin, Hermione's heart sank.

No. She would never go there.

At that moment, Caesar raised an eyebrow from his seat among the teachers.

It seemed his influence on Hermione really was considerable.

In the original story, the Sorting Hat had sent her to Gryffindor almost without hesitation. Now, it was even considering Slytherin.

"No!" she told the Sorting Hat in her mind. "I don't want to prove anything to anyone. I just want to learn more, become stronger, and do what I believe is right."

"'What is right,'" the Sorting Hat seemed to have caught onto the key. "A strong sense of morality, the courage to defend justice, even the willingness to stand up to authority for it. That's very Gryffindor—very brave."

"So, will you go to Ravenclaw to satisfy your thirst for knowledge, or Gryffindor to put your beliefs into practice?"

"Or perhaps Slytherin..."

The hat shifted gently atop her head, as though it were genuinely torn.

Time passed quietly, and whispers began to rise around the Great Hall. Hermione's palms grew damp with nervous sweat. She looked toward the teachers' table again.

This time, her eyes met Caesar's.

Caesar regarded her calmly, his expression unchanged.

Yet she seemed to read a hint of encouragement in his deep eyes, along with a reassuring acceptance of whatever the outcome might be.

Just as Hermione was struggling fiercely within herself and almost ready to beg the Sorting Hat to send her to Ravenclaw, the hat seemed to have finally reached its decision.

It set aside the possibility of Slytherin, and seemed to see through the deeper, fiercer source of strength behind her longing for Ravenclaw.

"Decision made!" The Sorting Hat's booming voice rang through the Great Hall as it announced its final verdict:

"Gryffindor!"