If this were the real world—the modern world she had left behind—Hermione would have reveled in the feeling of being watched. It made her feel like a little star, the center of gravity in a room.
But this was a dangerous alien world. Here, attention could get you killed.
Low-key is King, she reminded herself.
She kept her eyes on her nose, her nose aligned with her heart, trying to make herself as invisible as the air.
However, her resolve cracked when she looked across the aisle. There was Ron Weasley, grinning like a loon, waving at her while wearing that ridiculous, bright green cotton hat she had given him. It clashed horribly with his red hair and the somber black robes of the students around him.
Hermione couldn't help it. She let out a laugh, a bell-like sound that cut through the murmur of the Great Hall.
Her smile was radiant, her eyes crinkling into crescents.
"Miss Hermione smiled," a boy whispered at a nearby table, clutching his chest. "She looks so good."
"My heart is hit," another murmured dreamily. "At this moment, I just want to protect Miss Hermione."
Even at the table adorned in silver and green, heads turned.
Draco Malfoy, the scion of the wealthy, pure-blooded Malfoy family, sat with the posture of a prince. He had pale, pointed features, light blond hair slicked back perfectly, and cold gray eyes. His clothes were tailored, his aura superior.
In the original timeline, the Muggle-born Hermione Granger was beneath his notice—dirt on his shoe. Among the freshmen at Hogwarts this year, only the famous Harry Potter had been worthy of catching his arrogant eye.
It was a pity that Potter had no vision, ignoring the olive branch Malfoy had thrown, preferring to associate with blood-traitors like the Weasleys.
However, even aristocratic boys cannot avoid the basic instincts of the senses.
Since this version of Hermione stepped into the light, her beauty and cuteness made people unable to take their eyes off her.
Initially, the arrogant Malfoy had dismissed it. Just a woman's skin, he thought. Not worth mentioning.
But the moment Hermione was amused by Ron's green hat—that sweet, unguarded smile, the pure and lovely expression that lit up her face—Malfoy froze. He felt a physical jolt in his chest, as if his heart had suddenly been kicked by a donkey's hoof.
This is the taste of love.
Malfoy had never been so attracted to a girl before. It was irritating. It was confusing.
"Miss Hermione, I like you," a bold, thickset boy beside him—likely Goyle—muttered, staring at the girl.
Malfoy instantly felt a surge of irrational rage. He thought these people were idiots, but hearing someone else voice desire for her made him physically uncomfortable.
He whipped around and punched his companion hard on the back of the head.
Thwack!
"You're disturbing me!" Malfoy snapped angrily, his gray eyes flashing.
Malfoy didn't want to admit, even to himself, that he was interested in a Muggle-born girl. His noble blood did not allow such low-level things to happen.
"Gryffindor!"
The Sorting Hat finally followed the trend of history, its shout echoing off the stone walls.
Crackling!
Immediately, the tension broke. All the students at the Gryffindor table stood up and applauded, their cheers loud and boisterous.
Hermione stood, smoothed her robes, and ran toward the table, acting a little shyly.
As she sat down on the hard wooden bench, the cool mechanical voice of the System chimed in her mind.
[Congratulations on completing the task of Option 3. Reward: A Pure Cotton Hat.]
Hermione mentally inspected the item in her inventory. She felt the texture; the quality of the cotton hat rewarded by the system was undeniably good. Soft, durable, breathable.
If the color was white, black, or even wine red, she would have kept it and worn it herself.
Pity!
The System's bad taste was too heavy. It turned out to be green again. A vivid, forgiveness-color green.
Forget it, she thought, resigning herself to the absurdity. Send it.
"Next, Ron Weasley!" Professor McGonagall called out.
Ron and Hermione were quite related in destiny. In the original play, their relationship was built on bickering and slow-burn affection. It was a pity that the halo of the protagonist, Harry Potter, was so great that most audiences focused on the hero, overlooking the nuances between the sidekicks.
Ron stood up. He grinned nervously at Hermione from across the room and, encouraged by a thumbs-up from Harry, walked up to the stool.
He sat down, jamming the hat over his eyes.
In Ron's mood, he finally heard the Sorting Hat's announcement with immense satisfaction.
"Gryffindor—"
Yeah! Very good!
Ron practically leaped off the stool. He scrambled over to the Gryffindor table, his eyes locked on Hermione with a look of frenzy and relief.
Hermione noticed it. She also noticed the many little boys casting glances at her, intentional or unintentional. As a beautiful girl, being appreciated was naturally flattering; it made her happy inside.
But the world was too dangerous.
I need to tone it down, Hermione resolved internally. Maybe I should pretend to be ugly in the future. Mess up my hair, slouch, maybe stain my teeth. Just so the boys won't care about my appearance.
"Miss Hermione, that's great, we'll be a branch from now on," Ron said, sliding into the seat next to her, breathless.
Harry, still waiting in the line, clapped his palms. As the protagonist, he didn't gossip too much, but he looked happy for his friend.
Across the hall, Malfoy watched this interaction with narrowed eyes.
Although he was arrogant, he didn't want to look at the Muggle-born Hermione again. But boys are born hunters, and the girl they like is the prey.
Now that Malfoy saw Miss Hermione at a glance—seeing her chatting and laughing with Harry and Ron, the very people he despised—he was naturally extremely unhappy.
In the original story, because of Hermione's bossy character, the relationship between the trio was rocky at first. It took a troll in the dungeon to cement their friendship.
But here, because of her gentle personality and her universally recognized good looks, she was instantly popular.
Although Hermione didn't really want to be dragged into the danger vortex that was Harry and Ron, the System option quests always matched all this intentionally or unintentionally. She was being forced by fate (and loot).
Just like at this moment, as Harry stepped forward toward the stool.
The blue light curtain popped up again:
[Option 1: Give Harry a gift with a meaning, build a deep friendship. Complete the task to reward: Basic Attributes +1]
[Option 2: Give Ron a meaningful gift, establish a deep friendship. Complete the task to reward: 1 Pair of Slippers]
[Option 3: Give Malfoy a gift with meaning, establish a deep friendship. Complete the task to reward: 1 Cotton Hat]
"..."
Hermione looked at this new system option task, and she was speechless. She was also drunk on the absurdity of it.
How did Malfoy get involved?
She hadn't said a word to Malfoy since entering Hogwarts.
Although there were a lot of people in the auditorium, Hermione looked up and found the handsome boy, Draco Malfoy, with his extravagant hair combed back, staring in her direction.
In fact, strictly speaking, Malfoy's style was quite popular with girls.
Of course, including Hermione. If she had to choose a boyfriend based purely on aesthetics, Hermione would choose Malfoy, not Harry Potter. Malfoy had that bad-boy rich kid vibe.
However, Hermione would not fall in love easily. She even thought pretty girls were more attractive than boys, but currently, looking around the Great Hall, there didn't seem to be any girls prettier than herself.
In this movie world, Hermione was currently the prettiest and cutest.
So, Hermione liked herself best.
Build a friendship with Malfoy for a cotton hat? Forget it.
Slippers were practical—the stone floors would be cold—but Ron had already accepted Hermione's gift. It was time for another target.
At this time, Harry Potter was walking up to the Sorting Hat.
Hermione quickly made her choice. She stood up slightly and whispered as he passed, "Harry, if you can enter Gryffindor, I'll give you a present."
Harry Potter paused. He didn't realize that Hermione intended to give him the exact same green cotton hat that was currently perched on Ron's head.
Harry nodded, a determined look on his face, and went up.
The Sorting Hat was placed on Harry's head. It slipped down over his eyes.
Immediately, the Hat felt the heavy halo of the protagonist. Harry's identity, his ambition, and his resourcefulness were very suitable for entering the Slytherin Branch.
"You could be great, you know," the Hat whispered. "It's all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness."
But Harry gripped the edges of the stool. He wanted to enter Gryffindor. Not because he wanted Hermione's gift, but because Harry himself liked Gryffindor's reputation for courage and the adventurous spirit his parents had possessed.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the Hat. "Better be..."
"Gryffindor!"
Crackling!
The Gryffindor students stood up and clapped again, louder than before. On the stage, Hagrid, who was very good to Harry, clapped his massive hands like trash can lids colliding. Headmaster Dumbledore beamed, and Professor McGonagall allowed herself a small smile.
Harry took off the hat. He wore glasses and smiled happily as he looked over at the Gryffindor table.
He ran down the steps. He hugged Ron first, the two boys laughing in relief.
Then, he turned to the girl waiting for him.
Hermione reached into her robe (and into her inventory) and pulled out the reward. She gave Harry a green cotton hat, identical to Ron's, full of "meaning" for the system option task.
"It represents the friendship between us," Hermione said, her voice soft and nice.
"Thank you!" Harry took it, touched by the gesture. He thanked her sincerely.
He felt the fabric. The quality of the hat was very good; it felt like it could be passed down for three generations, and the hat would still be there when the people were gone.
Ron, seeing this, was thrilled. He was interested in Hermione, and seeing his best friend included made him even happier.
He immediately took off the green cotton hat that Hermione gave him on the train and held it up.
"Come on," Ron said to Harry, his eyes shining. "Let's put it on together."
And so, under the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, the two Gryffindor boys pulled the bright green hats over their ears, oblivious to the cultural joke, united in friendship and fashion.
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