Sixteen-year-old girl

"Do you trust me, Hermione?" Caesar asked, his gaze piercing like a torch. "Not just your family, but me—the one bound to you on the other end of this ancient pact.

Trust that even if you fail, stumble, or lose control, I'll still be the one who can catch you—and who needs you to catch me in return."

This wasn't comfort; it was an invitation to hand over a vulnerability, pulling her from the position of a "favored student" into the realm of an equal "symbiotic ally."

Hermione's heart pounded violently in her chest, faster than when she'd caught the Golden Snitch.

All the grievance and shame, under his words and candid gaze, strangely melted away, transforming into a fiercer, more unfamiliar surge of warmth.

She looked at his face so close to hers, at the clear reflection of herself in his eyes, and for the first time realized so vividly:

Her feelings for him had long surpassed a student's admiration for a mentor, or even family-like dependence.

It was a longing to stand shoulder to shoulder, to possess exclusively, to lock eyes with him in glory or disgrace alike.

In the picture he painted—of the two of them standing vaguely against the world—she felt not fear, but an unprecedented sense of grounding... and a flutter.

"I do," she heard her own voice say, hoarse but firm. She reached out, not for the wand.

Instead, she gently grasped his still-open, warm palm, her fingertips brushing against the calluses left by years of practicing magic. "Just like they trust each other."

The moment her fingertips touched his palm, the necklace around her neck and the light from his wand both bloomed softly.

Bathing the dim compartment in a warm, iridescent glow, enveloping them both.

From the pipes nearby, Moaning Myrtle let out an envious sob, but no one heard it anymore.

Hermione knew that something, from this moment on, had changed forever.

She still grieved her failure, but not because of embarrassment—because she yearned to grow stronger faster, to truly deserve the name "Soaring Together."

And that first clear stirring of her heart, like the awakening power of the pact, was etched deep into her soul, inseparable from the warmth of the necklace, never to be parted.

[This failure not only helped Hermione break through her own personality flaws but also deepened your bond. Through Hermione's introduction, you also came to know Ron and Neville.]

[Time flew by. At the end of the first term, as she left school, Hermione privately challenged Rojie Venus. This time, she knew no one could take you away. This time, Hermione won easily.]

[With your nearly full investment of resources in teaching and Hermione's learning ability far surpassing her peers, by just her first year, Hermione could already defeat a fifth-year prefect.]

[You were gratified that your investment had paid off. Hermione's future potential had already surpassed the heads of the four houses, allowing her to chase in Dumbledore's footsteps.]

[With the layout at Hogwarts settled for now, you shifted your time and energy to the unexpected discovery from this simulation—the Divine Mountain Tribe. You began to frequently leave the school under the pretext of academic research, sometimes even delegating your classes to Hermione upon request.]

[During your absences, many things happened at Hogwarts. First, Tom's covetousness for the Philosopher's Stone had reached a point where it could hardly be concealed. The vigilance of Hogwarts' staff and students was heightened through a series of farces.]

[Second, Hermione's outstanding performance shone brilliantly at Hogwarts, also attracting the attention of Gryffindor's head, Professor McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore.]

[As the most exceptional talent in the last half-century besides Tom Riddle, Professor McGonagall hoped to cultivate her into an excellent and upright Gryffindor, rather than a Ravenclaw. Dumbledore simply wished for Hermione to walk a righteous path.]

[As time passed, Hermione and Professor McGonagall grew closer. During one conversation, McGonagall learned that your recent behavior had grown increasingly strange. After reporting to Dumbledore, they decided to question you in detail about your research findings over the years when you next returned.]

[Of course, they had no idea what immense power you had discovered among the Divine Mountain—an ancient, terrifying curse whose origin traced back to the very source of magic. Ambition drove you to touch this taboo.]

[You thought that after years of research, you could master its power, but unfortunately, your talent lacked a protagonist's halo. When you attempted to use the ancient magic, the uncontrollable spell nearly destroyed your body, almost killing you on the spot!]

[When you returned to Hogwarts after a year's absence, you received two requests for a meeting: one from Tom Riddle, and the other from Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. At the same time, a plan began to take shape in your mind.]

Hogwarts' corridors were still bustling.

But when the familiar name—"Professor Caesar Habs has concluded his long-term academic investigation and is returning to the castle today"—spread like a silent spell, Hermione Granger, who was studying Advanced Magical Legal Statutes in the library, still couldn't help but let her quill scratch an abrupt ink mark across the parchment.

Her heart leaped, nearly bursting from her chest.

One month.

It had been a full month since he had last rushed off to investigate a "dangerous ancient magical relic site."

Now, Hermione was Hogwarts' most outstanding fifth-year student, a top candidate for all O.W.L.s.

Even privately, Professor Flitwick admitted that her practical combat magic had surpassed many teachers, including himself.

She didn't throw everything aside and sprint over like she used to.

Instead, she took a deep breath, carefully set down her quill, and closed the heavy tome.

She quickly smoothed her stubborn curls in the reflection of the window glass, pursed her lips.

In the mirror, the sixteen-year-old girl stood tall, her gaze sharp and intelligent, long since shed of childhood roundness.

Her jawline was clear, carrying an unconscious, steady radiance born of vast knowledge and formidable strength.

Graceful and captivating.

That was a phrase used in a recent Daily Prophet youth section article about "Hogwarts' Outstanding Young Witch"—a piece that had made Ron and Neville laugh for an entire week.

She walked toward his office at a pace slightly faster than usual but still maintaining poise.

Along the way, several younger students greeted her with reverence.

"Senior!"

She only nodded with restrained dignity. But her heartbeat grew louder and louder.