When Caesar returned to the Quidditch pitch, the sky was awash in Gryffindor red and gold, and the commentator's hoarse shouts still rang across the field:
"She's got it! Hermione Granger has caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor wins! The championship belongs to Gryffindor!"
Deafening cheers swept through the pitch like a tidal wave.
Hermione hovered on her broom, clutching the still-struggling Golden Snitch in her hand. Her chest heaved with excitement and lack of breath.
She'd done it!
Not only had she beaten the highly skilled Ravenclaw team, she'd also trounced the arrogant Malfoy and his Slytherin team!
A flood of joy swept away all her exhaustion. She wanted to share this moment with just one person.
Just then, her gaze was drawn as if by a magnet to the entrance of the teachers' stands.
That familiar figure had returned without her noticing and was standing there quietly, as if he'd never left.
His dark robes stirred gently in the noisy wind. Despite the distance, she thought she could see a rare, unmistakable look of approval in his eyes.
Almost instinctively, Hermione forgot to guide her broom into a smooth landing.
Like a bird breaking free of every restraint, she flipped off her broom from several feet in the air.
The moment her feet touched the grass, she shot toward him like an arrow, heedless of everything around her.
All the sounds around her—
the cheers, the applause, her teammates calling to her—blurred into background noise.
There was only one person in her world.
Under countless astonished, bemused, and knowing stares, and amid the Ravenclaws' almost fiery jealousy,
Hermione Granger, Hogwarts' newly crowned Quidditch champion, charged straight through a gap in the crowd like a little cannonball.
Then she threw herself squarely into Caesar's arms!
The impact made him stagger half a step, but he instinctively opened his arms and caught the girl, who was drenched in sweat and covered in grass, and radiating the joy of victory.
Her fluffy curls brushed his jaw, carrying the scent of sunshine and wind.
She could feel her racing heartbeat thudding through their robes.
"Caesar! I won! Did you see? I beat Ravenclaw, and I beat Slytherin and Hufflepuff, too!"
Hermione tipped her head back and shouted incoherently, her face lit up with a dazzling, unrestrained smile.
Her eyes, usually bright with intelligence, now held nothing but pure delight and an overwhelming yearning for his approval.
Caesar stiffened slightly. The intimacy of the embrace clearly crossed the boundaries between teacher and student.
He could feel the many eyes on them, from both the teachers and the students.
The Slytherins and Ravenclaws in particular were staring in shock and disapproval.
He even caught Professor McGonagall raising an eyebrow. Just who was Gryffindor's Head of House, anyway?
Caesar discreetly tried to ease her back a little, to preserve some basic decorum.
But Hermione was holding on too tightly, as if she meant to make the victory—and herself—a part of his embrace.
In the end, he didn't force her away. He let her lean against him for a few brief seconds, feeling her body tremble with triumph.
Caesar lowered his head and said in a clear, firm voice that only the two of them could hear, "Well done, Hermione. I'm proud to have you as my student."
His tone was calm, yet unmistakably sincere.
Those few words of approval meant more to Hermione than all the cheers and trophies in the world.
At last, satisfied, she let go and took half a step back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still shining.
She didn't care about the gossip or Malfoy's livid face.
All she knew was that the person who mattered most to her had witnessed and recognized her moment of glory.
And she had nothing to feel guilty about over that hug. She and Caesar were family, closer than anyone!
Caesar looked into her dazzling eyes, then at the pendant that had slipped from her collar during the match.
The One-Winged Bird Necklace glimmered faintly with rainbow colors in the sunset. A deeply complicated light flickered in his eyes.
He gently lifted a hand and brushed the grass from her shoulder, his gesture so casual and natural it seemed like something a family elder might do.
"Go on," he said, his voice returning to its usual steadiness. "Your teammates are waiting to celebrate."
Hermione nodded vigorously and gave him one last, radiant smile.
Then she turned and ran back like a gust of wind to the Gryffindor team gathering around her, and the cheering crowd lifted her high into the air.
Caesar remained where he was, watching her disappear into a sea of red and feeling the lingering warmth of victory and youth in his arms.
And beneath his robes, he felt the faint, familiar resonance from the necklace against his chest.
That unexpected intimacy was like a stone dropped into a still lake, sending ripples across his calm, untroubled heart.
The excitement of the awards ceremony had barely faded when people began drifting away from the pitch in small groups. Hermione was wiping down the handle of her Nimbus 2000.
Caesar had bought it for her yesterday.
Her Gryffindor teammates were laughing and joking nearby.
A slender figure stepped in front of her, blocking the light.
She looked up. It was Rojie Venus, captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team, a fifth-year known for her cool tactics and pride.
The polite smile she usually wore seemed strained, and her blue eyes held barely suppressed confusion and resentment.
"Congratulations, Granger. You played brilliantly."
Her opening was polite enough, but she got straight to the point. "Still, as your opponent—especially one who just lost to you—and since Professor Caesar is our House's mentor, I have a rather presumptuous question."
Hermione set down the cloth and stood up straight, looking at her calmly. "Go ahead, Venus."
Rojie took a deep breath, as if trying to maintain Ravenclaw composure, but the sharpness in her tone still slipped through.
"Why? Why would Professor Caesar, a Ravenclaw professor, show such obvious... special attention to a Gryffindor like you?
"Even accepting that kind of... celebration, far beyond the bounds of teacher-student etiquette, in front of everyone?"
Her question was blunt and confrontational.
It also voiced the collective confusion of some Ravenclaw students who had watched the scene from the sidelines.
It was unreasonable. It was unfair. It broke the invisible boundaries between the Houses.
Hermione didn't blush or panic.
She even lifted her chin slightly. The sharp, intelligent expression she wore when debating someone in class returned at once.
"Special attention? Venus, I thought Ravenclaw valued wisdom and logic, not baseless gossip."
Then Hermione spoke clearly, her words quick but steady.
"Professor Caesar recognizes ability and results.
"Today, I anticipated your three attempted flanking attacks. I broke your double-Bludger interference formation targeting the Seeker. And in the end, I caught the Snitch with a high-precision, seven-hundred-foot vertical dive in three seconds.
"Which chapter of Advanced Quidditch Strategy or which page of Competitive Flying Psychology explains all that in detail? Would you like me to quote it right here?"
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