She Wasn't a Humble, Low-Key Girl

Clap, clap, clap!

The long table on the right erupted into thunderous applause and cheers beneath the red-and-gold banners.

Percy Weasley proudly puffed out his chest, while his twin brothers let out loud whistles.

Hermione froze for a moment, then a rush of complicated emotions welled up inside her.

She felt relieved to have been accepted and excited about her unknown House, but there was also a faint, undeniable trace of disappointment.

She wasn't in Ravenclaw, and she didn't know if Caesar would be disappointed.

She stood up and mechanically returned the Sorting Hat to Professor McGonagall, then walked toward the Gryffindor table amid the enthusiastic applause.

Before sitting down, she couldn't help turning back to look at the High Table.

Caesar was still sitting there, calmly applauding along with everyone else.

But when she looked over, the corners of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. It was an extremely subtle smile, yet full of understanding and encouragement.

It was as if he were saying, "No matter which House you're in, you're still the Hermione who makes me proud."

Hermione turned back, took a deep breath, and accepted the Pumpkin Juice Percy handed her.

Yes, she was a Gryffindor now.

It was a place full of courage and energy. Perhaps it was where she'd truly wanted to be all along—a place where she could bravely put what she'd learned into practice and challenge injustice.

Caesar withdrew his gaze as well and smiled knowingly.

Hermione ending up in Gryffindor had been just as he expected. As he'd said before, kindness was at the heart of who she was, and that was the Hermione he remembered.

[After the welcoming ceremony, Hermione officially joined Hogwarts. Although she had been sorted into Gryffindor, that didn't stop her from coming to your office every day after dinner under the pretext of studying. She'd learn magic with you and tell you about everything that had happened that day.]

[For example, she'd heard that a boy from Hufflepuff had secretly confessed his feelings to a Gryffindor girl that day, only to be mercilessly rejected.]

[Or how Professor Snape had assigned a mountain of homework, and she was worried she wouldn't have time to visit you. She furiously rushed through her assignments, only for Draco Malfoy to pick that moment to challenge her, trying to waste her precious time. She taught him a harsh lesson, slapping him a hundred times.]

[She also told you that she'd taken on two followers, Ron and Neville. They weren't very clever, but they were dependable.]

[Thanks to your deliberate favoritism and Hermione's own intentions, everyone at Hogwarts knew how close the two of you were. This sparked resentment among quite a few students. Of course, they weren't angry with you, but with Hermione, who had become the focus of your attention.]

[You used to be the most popular teacher in the House. You treated every student equally, patiently answering anyone who came to you for help, so many students—and even teachers—would visit your office.]

[But now, everyone knew that whenever Hermione from Gryffindor knocked, you'd drop whatever you were doing to teach her.]

[Other students had to go through a rigorous approval process with a teacher before they could enter the library. But with your help, Hermione could practically go there whenever she wanted to study magic. It was as easy as eating or drinking.]

[On top of that, Hermione wasn't a humble, low-key girl. Quite the opposite—she was very proud. So when other students warned or challenged her, she almost always accepted, and she never lost. She was the very picture of a first-year top student.]

[Her constant victories and the gulf in ability they revealed had somewhat eased everyone's resentment. But Hermione, now laden with all sorts of honors, had done something that crossed Ravenclaw's bottom line: last month, she'd entered the Wisdom Cup Competition held at Ravenclaw House.]

[Ravenclaw took pride in wisdom. Possessing an intellect beyond the reach of ordinary people was the summit of their pride when facing the other Houses, and the Wisdom Cup was the jewel at its peak.]

[Students from other Houses occasionally entered, but they were usually just there to make up the numbers and never placed. The competition simply proved Ravenclaw's intellectual superiority again and again.]

[But this time, the results were unbelievable. Thanks to your dedicated, wholehearted teaching and your unlimited provision of resources, Hermione had made tremendous progress in magic compared to the same point in the original story. Her theoretical knowledge was also far more extensive.]

[This time, for the first time, a student who wasn't from Ravenclaw won the Wisdom Cup Competition! And Hermione had earned a perfect score!]

[The students in Ravenclaw, the same House as you, were furious. They'd already been hostile toward Hermione, and now they were determined to teach the new Gryffindors some respect for their seniors at this year's Quidditch tournament!]

The air at Hogwarts seemed to tremble with the approach of the Quidditch Match. Students in House colors could be seen everywhere inside and outside the castle, excitedly debating tactics and who would win.

Hermione had just earned another glowing commendation from Professor Flitwick for her flawless performance in Charms. Now she was striding briskly along the castle's moving staircases.

She didn't head back to Gryffindor Tower. Instead, she went straight toward Ravenclaw Tower.

She wanted to see Caesar and tell him about her victory in person. Perhaps she could even invite him to watch the upcoming Quidditch Match.

Although Caesar taught Ravenclaw, Hermione secretly hoped he would spare some of his attention for her.

When she reached the eagle-shaped bronze door knocker, which required an answer to a logic puzzle to let her in, a few upper-year Ravenclaws happened to be coming out.

Hermione stepped aside to let them pass, then confidently gave the knocker the answer.

The door swung open.

Caesar's office was at the end of a short corridor beside the common room. Its door was ajar.

As Hermione approached, she heard a lively discussion inside, about an alternative application of a complex Ancient Runes grammatical structure.

She knocked softly, then pushed the door open.

Caesar sat behind a desk piled with ancient books and parchment. Three Ravenclaw students sat opposite him.

Two boys and a girl listened intently to his explanation, their faces bright with the excitement of learning.

At the sound of the door, Caesar looked up.

When he saw Hermione, a hint of warmth flickered in his eyes. He gave her a slight nod.

At the same time, the three Ravenclaw students followed Caesar's gaze and turned around. When they saw Hermione standing in the doorway in her vivid Gryffindor robes,

the light in their faces instantly dimmed, like lanterns suddenly switched off.

They exchanged glances, a mixture of resignation and displeasure.

"Her again. Hermione—the Gryffindor who always turns up at the most inconvenient times in Professor Caesar's office."

"Uh... Thank you, Professor Caesar. I think we understand," one of the boys said hurriedly, his voice suddenly flat.

"We'll head back now. We won't disturb you," another girl chimed in at once, quickly gathering up her notes.

The three of them filed out almost single file. As they passed Hermione, they didn't greet her or even look at her, deliberately avoiding her gaze. They left behind a silence as heavy as a low-pressure front.

Hermione could clearly feel their rejection, almost tangible, like a cold film separating her from them.

But she merely raised an unconcerned eyebrow and walked straight into the office.

In her eyes, the "wisdom" Ravenclaw took such pride in was often little more than showing off book learning and indulging in abstract theorizing.

Many of her practical insights got straight to the point far more effectively than their rigid deductions.

They're jealous because I'm smarter than they are and Caesar thinks more highly of me.

That thought didn't upset her at all. If anything, it gave her a sense of well-deserved superiority.

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