The world felt like a vast, invisible cage, where fear shrouded the hearts of men like a spreading mist. In the shadows, wraiths cried and darkness stirred, waiting for a moment of weakness. Only holy friendship, sincere and true, could break these chains.
At least, that was the poetic sentiment.
In reality, Hermione was staring at two little boys wearing bright green cotton hats, and she was trying very, very hard not to lose her composure.
The scene was equal parts heartwarming and hilariously absurd. Harry and Ron sat side-by-side at the Gryffindor table, the vibrant green fabric clashing horribly with their red and black surroundings. They looked pleased with themselves, completely oblivious to the cultural implication Hermione carried from her past life—that wearing a "green hat" was the universal symbol for a cuckold.
Hermione couldn't help it. The "ladylike" demeanor she was trying to cultivate shattered. She covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking, and then a clear, bell-like laugh escaped her.
It was a beautiful sound, cutting through the chatter of the Great Hall.
Harry, who generally had zero interest in girls, glanced sideways at Hermione. He was baffled. He didn't understand why she was laughing so hard at a sign of their friendship, but seeing her eyes crinkled in genuine mirth made him smile too.
She doesn't usually laugh, Harry thought, adjusting his glasses. Unless she can't help it.
From across the hall, at the Slytherin table, a pair of gray eyes narrowed.
"Childish!" Draco Malfoy sneered, stabbing a fork into his potato.
He didn't want to care about those three. He shouldn't care. They were a blood traitor, a scar-headed celebrity, and a... Muggle-born.
However, Malfoy couldn't control his gaze. It kept drifting back to the Gryffindor table. specifically, to the green hats perched on Weasley and Potter's heads.
It was too conspicuous. In the entire auditorium, amidst hundreds of black pointed hats and somber robes, only those two idiots wore that vibrant, life-affirming green.
And Malfoy felt a burning sensation in his chest.
Envy.
Pure, unadulterated envy.
I want to have one!
Malfoy also wanted a green hat from the lovely Miss Hermione.
Oh! he thought, his mind racing irrationally. The colors that make people feel the breath of nature... so bright... so full of vitality.
He shook his head violently. Malfoy thought he was going crazy. How could he, the dignified heir to the Malfoy fortune, be jealous of a cheap cotton hat?
Moments earlier, Malfoy had undergone his own Sorting. There had been no suspense, no hesitation from the Hat. As befitting a rich boy of his lineage, he was directly sorted into Slytherin.
Being in Slytherin was a badge of nobility, a mark of purity. He should have been elated.
But Malfoy was not as happy as he expected.
He watched Hermione smile at Harry and Ron—that radiant, unguarded smile that made his stomach do flips. She was clearly the prey he had spotted, the one who had caught his eye, yet she was smiling at those two dorks.
It made him feel uncomfortable. Like a stone sitting in his gut.
It's really annoying!
Finally, the Sorting Ceremony concluded. The last nervous first-year found their seat.
Albus Dumbledore stood again, beaming at the students. He raised his golden goblet.
"Let's celebrate together!"
"Cheers!"
As the students raised their goblets, the empty golden platters in front of them suddenly groaned under the weight of food. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding...
The scent of savory gravy and roasted meat exploded into the air, making mouths water instantly.
The students were ecstatic, especially the first-years. Everything at Hogwarts was full of novelty and magic. Hermione was also happy, piling her plate with healthy options.
Although her desire to keep a low profile had been utterly ruined by the System's tasks, seeing Ron and Harry posing in their green hats made the embarrassment worth it.
So funny!
Hermione's laughter had also successfully made her the most popular girl among the first-year Gryffindors. If there was a vote for "School Belle" right now, Miss Hermione would definitely be elected unanimously.
As she took a sip of pumpkin juice, the system chimed in her mind.
> [Congratulations for completing Option Task 1. Reward: Basic Attributes +1]
>
Tonight, Hermione had established a deep friendship with Harry and Ron (at the cost of their fashion dignity). Now, she mentally opened the massive attribute panel while pretending to cut her steak.
She hadn't noticed it last time, but the list was exhaustive. It even had attributes for Whitening and Self-Cultivation.
In the original story, Hermione's physical appearance wasn't described as perfect. But here, with enough points, she could theoretically achieve a golden ratio figure.
Of course, Hermione wasn't that boring. Her beauty was already causing her trouble with boys; she certainly wasn't going to waste precious points enhancing it.
She thought about it. Last time, she added to [Magic].
This time... survival was key.
I need to be a tank, she decided.
> [Blood Volume +1]
>
Since then, Hermione's blood would be thicker than the average person—figuratively speaking. In her mind, this meant higher HP. If others got slashed and bled to death, she would take the same hit and keep standing.
Of course, looking at her pale wrist, she felt no difference. It was only +1. A drop in the bucket.
Don't worry, she told herself. Build up slowly.
The meal was joyous, the noise level high. But suddenly, the temperature in the Great Hall plummeted.
Even though Miss Hermione had prepared herself mentally, when the pearly-white, translucent ghosts suddenly emerged from the dining tables, drifting through the platters of rotten food and fresh meat alike, her heart tightened with fright.
"Aaaah!" Ron yelled, jumping up so fast he nearly knocked over his goblet.
Harry wasn't much better; his face went pale, his green pupils constricting behind his glasses.
A ghost rose directly through a bowl of potatoes at the Gryffindor table. He wore a ruff and tights. This was Nearly Headless Nick, the resident ghost of Gryffindor House.
His story was exciting, usually explained by the seniors to the freshmen with a mix of glee and horror.
His full name was Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. Born in the 15th century to a noble family, he was a wizard in the royal court until a magical accident involving a lady's teeth led to his execution.
"Sentenced to beheading," a prefect explained between bites of chicken. "But the axe was blunt."
"Blunt?" Harry asked, horrified.
"Chopped forty-four times," Nick said proudly, floating closer. "But the head still remained."
To demonstrate, Nick seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it were on a hinge. The inside of the neck was gray and gruesome, the head connected by only a centimeter of ghostly skin.
It was very kind of him to introduce himself, but also incredibly funny in a macabre way.
Hermione stared at the severed cross-section of the neck.
Ugh.
She instantly lost her appetite. She pushed her plate away.
The senior students, however, seemed to have taken it easy for a long time. They barely glanced up, continuing to enjoy the food safely while a ghost's head wobbled inches from their gravy.
Elsewhere in the auditorium, other ghosts floated. The Fat Friar of Hufflepuff laughed jovially; the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw drifted silently, looking haughty; and the Bloody Baron of Slytherin sat staring blankly, his robes stained with silver blood.
There seemed to be some special, dark history between the Bloody Baron and the Grey Lady, but no one dared ask.
The feast finally ended. Under the command of Professor McGonagall, the senior students led the freshmen out of the hall and toward the dormitories.
The boys' dormitory and the girls' dormitory were separate, of course, spiraling up different towers. However, Hermione, Harry, and Ron were all Gryffindors, meaning they shared a common room where they could communicate during breaks.
They marched through the castle. The staircases at Hogwarts were marvels of engineering and magic. They shifted and rotated with deep, grinding sounds, changing paths on a whim.
Looking down from the railing, the view of the moving stairs was spectacular, a dizzying array of stone arches and portraits.
Just like a blockbuster movie, Hermione smiled to herself. Well, I did just travel into the movie world.
A thrilling day was finally coming to an end. Her eyelids were heavy. She was tired and ready to rest.
However, just as the group of first-years paused in a corridor, a scene occurred that surprised her greatly.
In the original story, Hermione and Malfoy had almost no interaction in the early stages, other than mutual disdain. But here, fate had twisted.
Driven by the image of her smile, by the strange movement of his heart, and by a burning jealousy over a green hat, Draco Malfoy had swallowed his pride.
The rich boy separated from the Slytherin group and strode over to Hermione, his chin held high, eyes locked on her like a hunter.
He stopped in front of her, blocking her path.
"Woman," Malfoy said, his voice dripping with arrogant, cringy possessiveness. "You managed to get my attention."
...What?
Hermione stared at him. You're tm sick!
She almost swore out loud. She had to remind herself: I am a lady. I must be cultivated.
Just as Hermione was about to inquire about the purpose of this sand sculpture (idiot), the blue light curtain of the System materialized in front of her face, blocking Malfoy's smirk.
> [Option 1: Promise Malfoy to be his girlfriend, alienate Harry and Ron. Reward: Basic Attributes +1]
> [Option 2: Curse him and let Malfoy go. Reward: 1 Piece of Pajamas]
> [Option 3: Promise Malfoy that you will give him a hat with meaning in the future. Reward: 1 Smart Toilet Seat]
PLS SUPPORT ME AND THROW POWERSTONES .