Are We Really Family?

"Caesar!"

As soon as the door closed, Hermione's voice regained its usual cheer. The little unpleasant incident in the hallway had not affected her mood in the slightest. "I was just in Charms class..."

She eagerly began telling him how she had perfectly performed an advanced Flicker Charm and earned extra points from Professor Flitwick.

There was a hint of undisguised pride in her voice. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at Caesar, waiting for his reaction.

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

And toward the faint, slightly disgruntled murmurs of the Ravenclaw students outside.

"Little Hermione, did you hear that?"

Hermione, understanding what Caesar meant, pouted and said indifferently, "Those Ravenclaws can't take losing. They only dare mutter behind my back.

"I bet they're planning to 'teach me a lesson' at tomorrow's Quidditch Match, too. But this time, I'll make sure they see just how big the gap between us really is."

Well, Caesar thought, a little wistfully.

Hermione truly was one of the smartest characters in the original story.

Anyone who underestimated her actual intelligence and insight because of her age was bound to pay dearly.

"I believe in your abilities, little Hermione." Caesar looked at her warmly. "But why are you so determined to outdo everyone?

"As far as I know, people who care too much about honors are usually seeking others' approval. You're acting so forcefully now that it might sometimes have the opposite effect."

He looked at the girl's pure pride, born of her knowledge and abilities, and her almost absolute confidence.

And when he heard her casually attribute the Ravenclaw students' aloofness to "jealousy of her intelligence," an exceedingly complicated emotion flickered deep in his eyes.

He knew perfectly well that the Hermione in the original story was an extremely intelligent, strong-willed girl with a powerful sense of right and wrong.

But she also had genuine flaws: she was proud, stubborn, and not very good at socializing.

It was the mingling of those strengths and weaknesses that made her such a realistic, believable, and compelling character.

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

In the end, she would become a pillar of the wizarding world and Harry Potter's most indispensable companion.

Of course, in the eyes of outsiders, Hermione might have seemed like a classmate so proud she was almost unbearable.

But to Caesar, it was all just tsundere behavior.

Hearing Caesar's words, Hermione felt as though she'd swallowed honey and medicine at the same time, sweetness mingling with bitterness.

But she didn't answer right away.

Yes...

Why did I need to prove myself to outsiders?

Caesar, you big idiot!

Who ever said you were so knowledgeable?

Seeing Hermione stare at him with a complicated, shifting expression, Caesar suddenly realized what the problem was. He said calmly:

"Little Hermione, you don't need to prove anything to them. We're family, and of course I care about my family. Why seek approval from outsiders?"

At that, Hermione merely rolled her eyes.

She shifted a little farther away from Caesar, her tone deliberately haughty:

"I know! Who said I was doing it for you?

"I don't care at all. We're family, so of course you feed me, buy me things, take me out, teach me magic, and give me 'extra lessons,' right?

"I just want to teach those Ravenclaws a lesson.

"Just watch tomorrow's match. I'm not worried about the fifth-year Ravenclaws, let alone the first-years."

What clever people said often had little to do with what they truly thought.

Hermione and Caesar were, of course, family.

But did they really count as "family"?

After all, they weren't related by blood. Caesar was the one giving, and he could do so without a second thought.

But as the one who kept receiving help, she didn't have that same confidence. If anything, she felt a little guilty.

That was why she had always longed to prove her worth through honors and victories—to show that she deserved this special treatment.

Hermione knew the truth deep down, but she couldn't change it. Not yet.

She just wanted to keep proving herself, until every person at Hogwarts said with complete conviction:

"Look, that's Hermione Granger, the greatest genius our school has seen in a century, and Professor Caesar's most prized student.

"Professor Caesar really has an eye for talent. No wonder he's taken such care in nurturing her!"

"Confidence is a good thing, but remember to keep it in check. Don't make me worry." After saying this, Caesar turned and took a box from his desk drawer.

As soon as he opened the lid, a rich herbal fragrance filled the room. With her eyes closed, Hermione could almost imagine the entire office had become a little medicinal garden.

"You came at just the right time today. Haven't you always wanted to see how I make the Longmu medicinal bath? This time, you can watch for yourself."

At his words, Hermione immediately put her complicated feelings aside and turned back into the lively, cheerful girl she usually was.

She gave Caesar a not-too-hard punch in the chest with her little fist and said in mock anger, "You miser! You're finally willing to teach me one of your secret techniques!"

She had been curious for ages about Longmu, the miraculous potion that could increase a wizard's magic power without any side effects.

Before she entered Hogwarts, one of the gifts Caesar had left her was Longmu.

Back then, she hadn't known how precious it was and had assumed it was just an ordinary potion, the sort they might make in Potions Class.

But the more she learned about the magical world, the more she understood just how extraordinary the potion was.

It could increase magic power without any side effects!

She was sure that if Caesar let the news out, Longmu would be all over the front page of the next issue of the Daily Prophet.

"Why are the ingredients different from before?"

Hermione noticed that Caesar hadn't handed her a finished potion as he usually did. Instead, he was arranging the ingredients, which puzzled her. She asked,

"What about the ones I used before?"

"The Longmu you used before had been diluted three times. It was only suitable for young wizards who had just started learning magic—my specially made 'children's version.'

"It doesn't help you much anymore. What I'm making today is the genuine Longmu."

Caesar explained patiently as he continued working.

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

Next, he took out a bottle of red liquid and mixed it in.

He repeated the process, adding the ingredients from the box in orderly succession.

"Gningong dele..."

Then Caesar began chanting an incantation in an exceedingly ancient, obscure language.

At the same time, the mixture in the ceramic bowl reacted strangely to the magic, suddenly bursting into a soft yet dazzling light.

This was the first time Hermione had watched Caesar make Longmu for her.

A keen learner, she held her breath and watched his every move without blinking, afraid she might miss even the smallest detail.

Several dozen minutes later, Caesar finished the incantation.

The light in the bowl had dimmed. He poured the finished potion into a crystal bottle he had prepared and handed it to Hermione.

"Done."

Hermione took the bottle, still turning over the entire process she had just observed in her mind.

Seeing her expression, Caesar smiled and explained:

"I once visited the World's Peak. In addition to meeting the One-Winged Bird, I was fortunate enough to encounter the Divine Mountain Tribe, a group of people who live in seclusion among the mountains.

"To make Longmu, you must learn the Divine Mountain Tribe's ancient language and accept their understanding of magic. Only then can you create this miracle."