Are We Really Family?

"Caesar!"

As soon as the door closed, Hermione's voice immediately regained its liveliness. The unpleasant little episode in the corridor hadn't dampened her spirits at all. "I just finished Charms class..."

She began recounting with great enthusiasm how she had perfectly executed an advanced "Flicker Charm," earning extra points from Professor Flitwick.

Her tone carried a hint of undisguised pride, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Caesar, awaiting his reaction.

As she spoke, Caesar's gaze occasionally drifted thoughtfully toward the door that had just closed.

And the faint, complaining murmurs of Ravenclaw students drifting in from outside.

"Little Hermione, did you hear that?"

Understanding what Caesar was referring to, Hermione pouted and said dismissively, "Those Ravenclaws can't take a loss. They only dare to mutter behind our backs.

I bet they want to 'teach me a lesson' in tomorrow's Quidditch match. But this time, I'll make them see just how big the gap between us really is."

Alright. A flicker of emotion passed through Caesar's mind.

Hermione truly was one of the most brilliant characters in the original story.

Anyone who underestimated her actual intellect and insight because of her age would surely suffer for it.

"I believe in your abilities, Little Hermione." Caesar looked at her gently. "But why are you so competitive?

From what I know, people who are overly fixated on honor are mostly seeking validation from others. The way you're asserting yourself so strongly now might sometimes backfire."

He watched the pure pride on the girl's face, born of knowledge and ability, along with that near-absolute confidence.

And when she simply attributed the Ravenclaw students' distance to "jealousy of her intelligence," a deeply complex emotion flickered in the depths of his eyes.

He knew well that in the original story, Hermione was an exceptionally clever, strong-willed, and morally upright girl.

But at the same time, she had real flaws like pride, stubbornness, and poor social skills.

It was the interweaving of these strengths and weaknesses that made her character so real, believable, and charming.

She wasn't a perfect symbol, but a living, breathing girl constantly learning, making mistakes, and growing.

Ultimately becoming a pillar of the wizarding world and Harry Potter's most indispensable companion.

Of course, in the eyes of others, Hermione might be a prideful, somewhat annoying classmate.

But in Caesar's view, he simply treated it all as "tsundere."

Hearing Caesar's words, Hermione felt as if a honey pot and a medicine bottle had both been knocked over inside her, sweet and bitter intertwined.

But she didn't respond immediately.

Yeah...

Why do I need to prove myself to outsiders?

Caesar, you big idiot!

Who was it that said you were so knowledgeable?

Seeing Hermione staring at him with a complicated, shifting expression, a flash of insight hit Caesar as he realized the problem. He said calmly, "Little Hermione, you don't need to prove anything to them. We're family. It's only natural for me to care about my own family. Why seek approval from outsiders?"

Hearing this, Hermione just rolled her eyes.

She scooted a little away from Caesar, her tone carrying a deliberately tsundere edge:

"I know, alright! Who's doing it for you?

I don't care at all. We're family. It's only right that you give me food and clothes, buy me things, take me out, teach me magic, and give me 'extra lessons,' isn't it?

I just want to teach those Ravenclaws a lesson. You'll see in tomorrow's match—I don't care if they're first-years or fifth-years, I won't take them seriously."

What smart people say with their mouths often runs counter to what they truly think in their hearts.

Caesar and I are certainly family.

But are we really "family"?

After all, there's no blood relation. As the giver, Caesar can rightfully offer.

But as the one constantly receiving help, she not only lacks that confidence but even feels a bit uneasy.

That's why she's always craved honor and victory to prove her worth, to prove she deserves this favoritism.

Hermione knew the truth deep in her heart, but she couldn't change it—at least not now.

She only wanted to prove herself over and over until everyone at Hogwarts said with full conviction:

"Look, that's Hermione Granger, our school's once-in-a-century genius, Professor Caesar's most outstanding student.

Professor Caesar truly has an eye for talent—no wonder he's nurtured her so carefully!"

"Confidence is a good thing, but you need to watch your limits. Don't make me worry." With that, Caesar turned and took a box from his drawer.

Opening the lid, a rich herbal aroma immediately filled the air. Closing his eyes, it felt as if the entire office had transformed into a small herb garden.

"You came at just the right time. Haven't you always wanted to see how I prepare the 'Longmu' medicinal bath? Today, I'll let you watch firsthand."

Upon hearing this, Hermione immediately cast aside her earlier tangled emotions and reverted to her lively, cheerful self.

She lightly punched Caesar's chest with her small fist, deliberately putting on a fierce tone: "You stingy thing, finally willing to teach me your best-kept secret!"

She had been curious for a long time about "Longmu," that miraculous potion capable of boosting a wizard's magical power without side effects.

Before entering Hogwarts, one of the gifts Caesar had left her was "Longmu."

Back then, she hadn't known its true value, assuming it was just an ordinary potion that would appear in Potions class.

But as her understanding of the wizarding world deepened, she increasingly realized how extraordinary this potion was.

Boosting magical power with no side effects!

She was certain that if Caesar let the news out, the next headline of the Daily Prophet would be nothing else.

"Why is today's stuff different from before?"

Seeing that Caesar wasn't handing her a finished bottle of potion as usual, but instead began fiddling with raw ingredients, Hermione asked curiously, "What happened to the ones I used before?"

"The 'Longmu' you used before was diluted three times, only suitable for young witches just starting with magic—a special 'children's version' I made.

It's not much help to you now. What I'm brewing today is the authentic 'Longmu.'"

Caesar explained patiently, but his hands never stopped moving.

He took out various magical herbs and materials from the box one by one, measured them precisely, and poured them into a ceramic bowl.

Then he retrieved a bottle of red liquid and mixed it in.

He repeated this process, adding the materials from the box in an orderly fashion.

"Ning gong de le..."

Then Caesar began chanting a spell in an extremely ancient and obscure language.

At the same time, the mixed liquid inside the ceramic bowl underwent a strange magical reaction, suddenly emitting a soft yet dazzling glow.

This was the first time Hermione had witnessed Caesar brewing "Longmu" for her with her own eyes.

The studious girl held her breath, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on every move he made, afraid to miss a single detail.

Several dozen minutes later, Caesar finished his incantation.

The glow in the bowl had dimmed. He poured the final potion into a crystal bottle prepared nearby and handed it to Hermione.

"It's done."

Hermione took the bottle, her mind still replaying the entire brewing process she had just observed.

Seeing her expression, Caesar explained with a smile:

"When I was at the World's Peak, besides encountering the One-Winged Bird, I was fortunate enough to meet the Divine Mountain Tribe—a group of people living in seclusion among the mountains.

To make 'Longmu,' you must master the ancient language of the Divine Mountain Tribe and embrace their understanding of magic, only then can you create this miracle."