Since Hermione's Low-key +1 attribute had taken effect, her presence had become slightly less blindingly conspicuous to the general populace. However, because she had taken the initiative to glance at Malfoy during class, the damage was already done in one specific quarter.
Looking back at that moment, Malfoy's heart had moved. The hook was set.
Sure enough, the moment class ended, the consequences unfolded.
As Malfoy and his entourage strutted toward the Great Hall for lunch, the beautiful Miss Hermione approached them, moving against the flow of students like a salmon swimming upstream.
Malfoy's followers, Crabbe and Goyle, nudged each other, their heavy faces lighting up with gleeful stupidity.
"Look," Goyle whispered loudly. "Malfoy's got luck with the ladies today."
"Miss Hermione Granger is the prettiest girl among the freshmen," Crabbe grunted in agreement. "I didn't expect Master Malfoy to be so charming that she'd come to him on her own initiative."
Malfoy straightened his spine, feeling a surge of satisfaction. Hermione approaching him publicly gave him immense face in front of his younger brothers-in-arms. He slicked back his pale hair and prepared a charming line.
"Hermione," he greeted smoothly.
Hermione didn't waste time with nonsense. She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out the folded green fabric.
"I promised to give it to you yesterday," she said simply, handing over the cotton hat.
Malfoy took it. It was rare for a pureblood heir like him to say thank you to a Muggle-born, but the occasion seemed to warrant it. He nodded graciously.
Then, unable to wait, he placed the bright green hat onto his head right there in the corridor.
At that moment, Malfoy preened like a little peacock fanning its tail feathers. The contrast between his pale, pointed face, his sleek blond hair, and the vivid, grassy green hat was striking.
"I still have things to do, so I won't stay any longer," Hermione said quickly.
She turned away, biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud. To her modern sensibilities, Malfoy looked like a pig with a green onion stuck in its snout, yet he was showing off so proudly.
Hermione, who insisted on the Way of the Gou—survival through low-profile tactics—retreated rapidly. She didn't want to have too much contact with Harry for fear of plot karma, and the same applied to Malfoy.
Behind her, the sycophants were already laying it on thick.
"Master Malfoy, you look so good wearing the green hat Miss Hermione gave you."
"Master Malfoy is so handsome!"
"Enviable..."
Malfoy's little brothers were not stingy with their compliments. Malfoy's chin lifted higher, his neck stiff with pride under the weight of his new, culturally unfortunate headgear.
The Great Hall.
The smell of roast chicken and pumpkin juice filled the cavernous room. It wasn't uncommon for students to give gifts to each other, but on the second day of school, for the prettiest girl in the year to give personal gifts to three different boys... that was headline news.
By the time dinner service began, the gossip mill was churning.
"As far as I know, this is the third time Hermione Granger has given out a 'green hat'," a Ravenclaw girl whispered to her friend, eyeing the Gryffindor table.
"Who does she like? I've seen Harry Potter and Ron Weasley both wearing the exact same hat."
"I don't know," another girl replied, cutting a potato. "But a girl like her who strings three boats along at once... even if she is as beautiful as a fairy, it's not a good look."
"You're wrong," an older girl interjected. "Miss Hermione's behavior just shows how much she is liked by the boys. She has them wrapped around her finger."
"Last night, the girls in Miss Hermione's dormitory said she shared high-quality snacks with everyone. Maybe we misunderstood her. Maybe she just really likes giving things to others."
At the Gryffindor table, the mood was somber.
As Harry and Ron ate their lunch, they couldn't help but see Malfoy at the Slytherin table. He was wearing the green hat Hermione had given him. It was unmistakably the same make and model as theirs.
That's right. Only Hermione possessed a supply of green hats so vibrant they made people panic.
"Harry, look," Ron hissed, gripping his fork so hard his knuckles turned white. "Malfoy also received a hat from Hermione."
Ron felt extremely uncomfortable. It felt like a betrayal.
Harry lowered his head and took a bite of his shepherd's pie, his green eyes dimming behind his glasses.
"Reminiscent of Hermione's mocking of us after the first class... maybe Hermione really hates us," Harry murmured dejectedly.
Then, a thought occurred to him. Harry looked up, his expression shifting from sadness to suspicion.
"Ron... maybe Hermione just doesn't want Malfoy to trouble her."
Ron frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Hermione is so beautiful," Harry reasoned. "I heard from some classmates that Malfoy stopped Hermione last night in the corridor and secretly threatened her with something. Maybe she gave it to him to make him go away."
"Hateful!"
Ron slammed his hand on the table. "I didn't expect Malfoy to be such a treacherous villain! Bullying a girl? I'll go find him!"
He started to rise, but Harry grabbed his arm.
"Ron, stop," Harry said firmly. "We're here to learn magic, not to fight."
"But—"
"Since Hermione chose to send a hat to solve the trouble, we don't want to cause her any more trouble by making a scene," Harry argued sensibly.
Ron hesitated. He looked at Malfoy's smug face across the hall, then back at Harry. Finally, he sat down, seething.
"Okay," Ron grumbled. "But I can't swallow this bad breath. Sooner or later, I will have to fight that Malfoy."
Harry took another look at Ron. He felt that Ron was perhaps a little too deep into the drama. They were still first-year freshmen; there was no need to pay so much attention to romance and jealousy. At most, their concerns should be about who played Gobstones with whom.
Nearby, Hermione had also arrived at the cafeteria.
Even though they were all students of the Gryffindor branch, and in the original story she would have eaten with them (or at least near them), Hermione didn't do that here.
She seemed to be isolating herself intentionally. She walked alone, retrieved a plate, and sat in a remote corner to eat by herself.
Ron really wanted to go over and ask why she gave that annoying Malfoy the same gift she gave them. But seeing her solitary figure, he held back.
Bear with it, he told himself. Forget it.
After all, if Hermione was alienating everyone—Harry, Ron, and Malfoy included—maybe she just liked her privacy.
At this time, a chaotic rustling sound filled the air overhead.
Hundreds of owls streamed into the Great Hall, circling the tables and dropping packages and letters.
Since Hermione was an "orphan" in this world and not adopted by a wizarding family, she didn't have an owl to send her things. She continued to eat her salad calmly.
But at the Gryffindor table, Neville Longbottom received a package.
Neville was a round-faced, forgetful boy who looked simple and honest at first glance. He wasn't very talented, but his clumsiness stemmed from a deep-seated trauma.
Neville's parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom, were both brave Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix. Shortly after Voldemort's downfall, they were kidnapped by Death Eaters—specifically Bellatrix Lestrange—and tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse. They had been residents of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for years, unable to recognize their own son.
Neville, meanwhile, had been subjected to a memory charm as a child to make him forget witnessing the torture, which had left his memory permanently damaged.
"Look, Neville has received a Remembrall," Ron said to Harry, pointing with his fork.
It was the first time Harry had seen such an object. He looked at the glass sphere in Neville's hand. It was the size of a large marble, filled with swirling white smoke that was rapidly turning red.
In the original story, Hermione would have been sitting next to them to explain the magical theory. Here, she was absent.
Ron took up the role of expositor. "I heard about those. You squeeze the Remembrall hard. If the smoke stays white, you haven't forgotten anything. If it turns red..."
The ball in Neville's hand was glowing a vibrant, angry crimson.
"...it proves you forgot something."
Neville looked at the ball in distress. "But I can't remember what I forgot."
Most of the classmates sympathized with Neville, knowing his gentle nature.
But not everyone.
Draco Malfoy, flanked by his bodyguards, was passing the Gryffindor table. He spotted the glowing ball. Malfoy, being a quintessential bully, liked to target the weak and honest students the most.
He snatched the Remembrall from Neville's hand.
"Look, everyone!" Malfoy laughed loudly, holding the ball up to the light. "Neville received a Remembrall, but he forgot what he forgot! Oh, what a poor little idiot."
Harry, bursting with a sense of justice, immediately stood up. The bench scraped loudly against the stone floor.
"Malfoy," Harry said, his voice hard. "Give Neville back the Remembrall!"
Malfoy sneered, his gray eyes cold. "What are you? If you ask me to pay it back, will I just pay it back?"
He stepped closer to Harry, the height difference negligible, but the attitude vast. Malfoy reached up and adjusted the green hat on his head, making sure it was high and visible.
"Also," Malfoy threatened, his voice dropping to a hiss. "I warn you two. You are not allowed to wear the green hats given by Miss Hermione in the future. It is best that you hand over all the green hats to me."
Harry stared at him, bewildered.
"Only the noble Master Malfoy," Draco declared, pointing a thumb at his chest, "is entitled to the green hat presented by Miss Hermione."
Malfoy was too domineering! To demand exclusive rights to the symbol of cuckoldry—it was absurd, though he didn't know it.
Ron couldn't stand it anymore. His face flushed as red as his hair.
"That's it!" Ron shouted. He stood up abruptly, kicking his chair back. "Malfoy!"
He was about to rush forward to duel. This was no longer just about a Remembrall. This was a jealous war between boys.
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