Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: Slytherin? Gryffindor!

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Bush and Gorbachev?

What's with you two?

Hermione's expression froze. She forced out a stiff smile.

Compared to Marvel's bizarre superhumans and organizations, what she really wanted to avoid were Hogwarts professors—seemingly safe, actually dangerous.

Not that she thought they'd harm a twelve-year-old girl… but transmigration and the magic book were her deepest secrets.

Secrets she wanted no one to know.

And Hogwarts was crawling with Legilimency experts.

Especially Dumbledore.

Sure, he wouldn't normally use it on a first-year. But the risk existed.

Still, no choice. If she wanted systematic magical education, Hogwarts was the simplest option. She had to come.

One second later, Dumbledore looked away. As if it'd been coincidence.

"Overthinking…?"

Holy shit. Nearly gave me a heart attack.

Maybe her imagination, but Hermione could've sworn his final glance held something… strange.

She shook her head. Dismissed the thought.

Focus on what's in front of you.

Following protocol, Dumbledore recommended Hogwarts' must-visit attraction to new students: the Forbidden Forest. Then announced the Sorting.

Professor McGonagall held the list. Called names one by one. Public execution.

"Hannah Abbott!"

Classic Hannah.

"Draco Malfoy!"

"Susan Bones!"

"Ron Weasley!"

…

"Harry Potter!"

The name echoed. The Great Hall erupted.

As the famous kid who'd taken down You-Know-Who, the name was widely known.

After spirited debate with the Sorting Hat, Harry was finally placed in Gryffindor.

The Lions roared: "Haha! Harry Potter's a Gryffindor!"

"Hermione Granger!"

Finally. Her turn.

She didn't know why—she should've been called before Harry—but now wasn't the time to dwell.

She strode forward. Placed the Hat on her head.

The Hat seemed conflicted.

Second time—after Harry—it'd taken this long.

"Hmm… courage, determination, wit, ambition… you possess them all. Though ambition seems slightly stronger…" After a long pause, the Hat whispered in a voice only Hermione could hear: "Then it shall be Sly—"

"Shut up. Gryffindor!"

Hermione cut it off mentally.

First choice. Non-negotiable.

Good grief. One transmigration nearly landed her straight in Snake House.

Good thing she reacted fast.

Do I really look like Dark Wizard material? Hermione felt speechless.

Sure, Slytherin matched her personality. But it wasn't suitable.

Hermione knew full well how much those Slytherin brats despised Muggle-born wizards.

If she went there, she'd be brawling with half the house by day two.

Not that she couldn't flatten them. Just… inconvenient.

Plus, choosing Gryffindor had another critical reason: she could keep Harry Potter under constant surveillance. Knowing the original plot, she understood—once he started causing trouble, she could fish in muddy waters.

An advantage the other three houses didn't offer.

"Very well, very well…" The Hat's tone turned resigned. It could sense talent and personality, but ultimately had to respect personal choice.

Then it shouted: "Gryffindor!"

Another new student. Gryffindor cheered endlessly.

Ron nudged Harry beside him.

"Hey, look! That aloof girl from the compartment's also Gryffindor. She could cast spells so fluently before school even started—I thought geniuses like that went to Ravenclaw."

Harry clutched his forehead. Forced a smile. His gaze kept drifting toward the head table.

Hermione knew: Voldemort's scar was reacting to Quirrell. But Harry was staring at Snape instead.

Taking the blame on day one. Classic.

Ron clapped the empty seat beside him, waving Hermione over.

Hermione didn't refuse. Sat down beside them graciously. Finally had time to examine the front carefully.

Snape in black robes. Definitely bat-like.

The shortest must be Flitwick…

Dumbledore… whoa, how'd you go from Jude Law to this? What happened over the years?

Next to him, the broomstick flying professor. What was the name again… forgot.

And…

Hermione's gaze settled on the last person.

Dressed like Steve Jobs. Except the turban didn't contain speakers. Just one Voldemort.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who willingly hosted Voldemort as a parasite. Quirinus Quirrell.

Volde-rell.

Year One's villain.

Reborn: My Days as a Hogwarts Professor.

Wanted the Philosopher's Stone. Got wrecked by first-years instead.

Lost life and reputation both.

Tragic, Quirrell. Tragic.

Looking forward to your performance.

Hermione withdrew her gaze.

Sorting ended. Amid laughter and cheer, the feast began.

Dumbledore raised his goblet. Smiled toward Harry's direction. Harry nodded lightly.

Except Hermione couldn't shake the feeling the old man was actually looking at her—sitting beside Harry.

Hermione pretended not to notice. Just buried herself in dinner.

Next day.

Hermione woke early. Borrowed a few books from the library, then headed straight to class.

Last night, the traversal function had finished recharging. But she hadn't chosen to return to Marvel. Stayed obediently in the dorm instead—otherwise she'd miss Hogwarts' first magic lesson.

Attending class made little difference to her. But she didn't want to leave professors with any impression of eccentricity.

Especially during developmental years.

Marvel-side was still under consideration. But at Hogwarts, Hermione had already set her persona. Now she just had to maintain the disguise.

This morning's first period: Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration.

Hermione arrived earliest. Following past-life classroom habits, she beelined for the back row—the seat only early risers earned—and opened Hogwarts: A History.

The book's content matched its title: Hogwarts' founding history, including the four house founders—Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin.

She'd chosen this book not just to understand the world better, but for personal reasons.

Regarding the magic book's Ancient Magic category—though the original series mentioned it—her first thought was the game Hogwarts Legacy.

Did this world contain Legacy elements? Perhaps this book held clues.

While she read intently, new students trickled in, two or three at a time.

Seemed after one night, students had already found their little cliques.

Some glanced at Hermione, wanting to approach. But sensing the stay away aura radiating from her, they ultimately gave up.

Just then, a gray-and-white cat hopped onto the desk. Walked with elegant feline grace toward Hermione.

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