Against the World, Neither Could Do Without the Other

He had appeared in the Entrance Hall at some point, his expression more grave than she had ever seen it. With one arm, he caught Hermione as she lost consciousness; with the other, he reached out and seized something in midair.

The wand that had flown away obediently landed in his palm.

He didn't even glance at it. His gaze swept like an icy blade over Rojie Venus, who stood there holding her wand, just as stunned, and over the silent students.

"Professor! She started it..." Rojie tried to explain in a panic.

"Enough." Caesar's voice wasn't loud, but its chill was enough to freeze everything. He cut her off.

He looked down to check on Hermione, quickly testing her forehead and the side of her neck with his fingers, his brow furrowing.

After confirming that she had merely fainted from a brief disruption in her magic, he took off his cloak, carefully wrapped it around Hermione, and lifted her into his arms.

Then he carried Hermione over to Rojie, whose face had gone deathly pale, and looked at her with a calmness that weighed like a mountain.

"Miss Venus, I haven't read that letter, and I never will.

"It was a misunderstanding, nothing more." His words rang clearly through the Entrance Hall. "As for your personal feelings, that's your own business.

"But you caused a public duel and injured a younger student. As a Prefect, you've failed in your duties. Ravenclaw loses fifty points. Now, go to Professor McGonagall's office."

He didn't raise his voice, but each sentence sounded like a final verdict.

Rojie Venus trembled all over, and at last tears spilled from her eyes. With everyone watching her in their own way, she covered her face and ran off.

Caesar paid no further attention to anyone else. Carrying Hermione, he strode toward the Hospital Wing.

He left behind a hall full of stunned students.

Someone let out a quiet snicker. Then a buzz of conversation rose around the hall.

Most of it had the gleeful tone of "Hermione Granger finally lost" and "With an attitude like hers, she deserved it."

Ravenclaw House had already been outraged by Hermione's recent behavior. Neville and Ron tried to speak up, but their voices were drowned out by the uproar.

Hermione soon woke under Madam Pomfrey's care in the Hospital Wing. She was unharmed, though her magic was somewhat depleted.

But the first things she heard after waking were the deliberately loud remarks of students passing by: "She lost," "Professor Caesar had to save her. How embarrassing," and "She acts so high and mighty, but she still needs the professor to bail her out."

She yanked the covers over her head. As soon as Madam Pomfrey left, she jumped out of bed and ran off.

She didn't return to Gryffindor Tower. Instead, she hid in the Second-Floor Abandoned Girls' Bathroom, Moaning Myrtle's haunt.

In the dark, damp bathroom, the only sounds were the drip of leaking pipes and Moaning Myrtle's occasional sobbing as she drifted past.

Hermione curled up in the corner of the innermost stall, her chin resting on her knees. Tear tracks streaked her face, and her drab robes were covered in dust and water stains.

The humiliation of losing the duel, the confusion of her wand going out of control, the sting of everyone's mockery, and the shame of fainting so pathetically in front of Caesar...

All her feelings twisted into a scalding torrent, over and over searing a pride that had never truly known defeat.

"Mm..." She bit down on the back of her hand, not wanting to make a sound, but sobs still slipped through her teeth.

For the first time, proud Hermione Granger had been defeated on her own "battlefield."

She had lost utterly and miserably, in both knowledge and the struggle to defend a certain special "claim."

Just then, someone gently knocked on the stall door. It wasn't Moaning Myrtle's ghostly way of doing things.

"Hermione." Caesar's voice came from outside, as calm as ever, yet clearer than ever as it pierced the door.

Hermione stiffened all over and buried her face deeper between her knees. Her voice was hoarse as she said:

"...Go away."

There was a brief silence outside, followed by the soft click of the lock releasing.

Caesar stepped inside. His tall frame made the cramped stall feel even smaller.

Ignoring any dirt on the floor, he crouched in front of her until they were eye to eye.

"Losing to a fifth-year who's had more training isn't shameful," he said, offering no unnecessary words of comfort.

"I didn't lose to her!" Hermione jerked her head up, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes as tears welled up again.

"I lost to... to myself! My wand! Why did it stop obeying me? And this!"

She roughly pulled out the One-Winged Bird Necklace she had kept hidden beneath her clothes. The wooden pendant was now dull and lifeless.

"They both went wrong! At the most important moment! It makes no sense!"

She spoke incoherently, hurt, anger, and deep confusion tangled together.

Caesar's gaze fell on the necklace in her hand, then slowly shifted to her tear-streaked face.

He didn't immediately explain what had happened to her wand and necklace. Instead, he suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question:

"Hermione, do you know why the One-Winged Bird is classified as a 'Symbiotic Forbidden' Magical Creature?"

Hermione sniffled and answered instinctively from memory. "Because they can't survive alone. Each has one wing and one eye, and they have to live in pairs, sharing their life force and magical pathways. If they're forcibly separated, both quickly weaken and die..."

Her voice trailed off as she seemed to realize something.

"Exactly. 'Sharing their life force and magical pathways.'" Caesar repeated the words, lightly touching the pendant in her hand with his fingertip.

Miraculously, the feather embedded inside the pendant glimmered faintly with iridescent colors. At the same time, a similar dim light shone beneath Caesar's collar.

"This isn't just a romantic legend, Hermione. It's a profound, almost irreversible magical contract.

"The materials used to make these two objects came from a pair of One-Winged Birds that truly lived and died together. Their powers resonate with one another, and also hold one another in check."

He gazed into her eyes, his tone turning utterly serious, even tinged with a candor so cold that Hermione had never heard it from him before:

"When one person is overwhelmed by negative emotions directed at the other bearer—

"For example, if your hostility toward Rojie Venus today was mixed with fear and anger at the thought that I might be 'taken away' from you, the contract instinctively resists.

"It isn't trying to hurt you. It's preventing the contract itself from being 'tainted.'

"Because the heart of the One-Winged Bird's contract is absolute trust and coexistence, not possession, and certainly not destruction."

Caesar held out his hand, palm up. The wand belonging to him, made from the feather of a male bird, appeared as if from nowhere.

"These two creations have indirectly linked us through the same contract. In this world, full of watchful eyes, schemes, and dangers..."

He paused. His voice dropped, but every word was clear. "In a way, we're like that pair of One-Winged Birds.

"Either of us might be able to fly alone, but it would be hard, lonely, and fragile. Only by finding our direction together can we truly soar—and even withstand the storms that aren't so kind."

Hermione forgot to cry. She stared at him, at the wand in his hand resonating with her necklace, at the profound, candid sea of stars in his eyes.

Caesar's words had stripped away the cruel, honest heart of the romantic legend. They had also placed the feelings she had depended on without understanding into a far grander, almost fated framework.

To face the world, neither could do without the other.

The words weighed heavily on her heart, yet, strangely, they soothed the bewilderment she had felt after suffering a crushing defeat while fighting alone.