Hermione pursed her lips, looking at the professor trying to comfort her. She spoke softly, "Professor, I saw your picture in the trophy room. I know you were the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and led the team to multiple championships."
"Heh…"
Melvin clamped his mouth shut, but a faint chuckle escaped through his nose. Facing the gazes of the two Gryffindor witches, he casually looked away. "Ahem… I see a first-year just crashed into a tree."
Professor McGonagall looked a bit embarrassed. She'd meant to lift the girl's spirits with a white lie, only to have it called out.
She gently patted the young witch's hair. "Everyone has subjects they excel at, Granger. Don't feel discouraged."
"I know, Professor," Hermione replied.
"And… happy birthday."
Hermione froze. "Professor, how did you know…?"
"I sign and send all your acceptance letters. The Book of Admittance lists your birth dates."
"…"
Hermione took a deep breath, her nose tingling. Coming from familiar London to a strange school in the Scottish Highlands, five hundred miles from home, unable to see her parents on weekends, distanced from her roommates, and struggling to make friends—she could handle all that. But a simple birthday wish from a professor made her eyes well up.
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."
She couldn't help but hug McGonagall, resting her head on her shoulder.
"So today's your birthday, huh?" Melvin mused, digging into his pocket and pulling out a handful of candies, which he passed to her. "Happy birthday, little witch."
Hermione blinked, staring at his small decorative pocket. How could it hold so many candies?
"Don't just stand there—take them!"
She instinctively held out her hands, catching a pile of brightly wrapped sweets, all stamped with the Honeydukes logo.
Melvin ruffled her hair. "Honeydukes' best sellers. Go find your friends—they'll be jealous. Share a couple with the ones you like. The ones you don't? Let them sulk."
"…"
McGonagall and Hermione fell silent. Professor Levent was, as always, full of surprises.
McGonagall smoothed Hermione's messy hair. "Ignore him. Share the candies with your friends and let them know it's your birthday."
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Levent."
After saying goodbye to the professors, Hermione rejoined her classmates, still a bit dazed.
"Look, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Bogey-Flavored Beans!"
"And Chocolate Frogs!"
"Fizzing Whizzbees!"
The chatter of nearby students drifted to her ears, pulling her back to the moment. She'd heard Honeydukes was a candy shop in Hogsmeade, off-limits until third year…
Just as Professor Levent said, these sweets were a magnet for first-years.
Her roommates, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, stood nearby, their eyes lingering on the candies. When Hermione glanced at them, they quickly looked away.
Hermione pursed her lips. "Lavender, Parvati, want to try some?"
The two exchanged a look.
"Are… we allowed?" Lavender asked.
"Yeah, it's… my birthday. Consider it my treat."
"Hermione, you're the best! Happy birthday!" Lavender cheered, reaching for a handful until Parvati tugged her sleeve. She giggled and took just a few pieces with restraint.
Parvati, raised in a high-caste Indian family with polished manners, thanked Hermione politely. She pulled Lavender aside, whispering about getting a birthday gift for her that evening.
Hermione shared the candies with Harry, Neville, and the others. The boys erupted in excited chatter, thanking her loudly, as if Miss Granger had suddenly become the most popular witch around.
"Thanks, Hermione!"
"Happy birthday, Hermione!"
"Happy birthday!"
"…"
Hermione tried to stay composed, but a small smile curved her lips.
Watching the kids bustle with excitement, McGonagall's eyes crinkled with a faint smile. She turned to the young professor beside her. "What happens when other kids want candies for their birthdays?"
"What do you mean?" Melvin feigned confusion. "I'm not a Head of House or Deputy Headmistress. Why would kids come to an elective professor for sweets?"
"…"
McGonagall pressed her lips together, choosing not to scold him. "I'll request some funds from the Headmaster tonight. A few candies won't cost many Galleons."
"Dumbledore will definitely approve," Melvin said.
"Here's hoping the sweets help the kids get along."
"…"
Melvin watched the students from a distance. He doubted a small gesture like this would make Hermione truly popular. The candies might ease the distance between her and her peers for now, but without a real shift in how they interact, things would likely revert to normal soon enough.
Some people were just born to stand apart, not needing many friends.
…
September 20, Friday
Charms Classroom
"Today, we're covering the Mending Charm," Professor Flitwick announced. "This spell can repair most broken objects, but it has limitations. It cannot fix items destroyed by powerful magic or those deteriorated by natural aging.
"The Mending Charm is strictly for inanimate objects. The Ministry bans its use on humans or animals, as the consequences can be severe.
"In the 17th century, a Merseyside witch used it on her son's shattered kneecap. The magic removed his patella, fusing his leg bones into one solid piece, leaving his left leg unable to bend ever again…"
Perched on two stacked stools, Flitwick delivered the story in a deliberately spooky tone. Seeing Neville's face pale, he grinned with satisfaction. "Now, let's learn the incantation and wand movement. Reparo, derived from Latin…"
After the theory, Flitwick let the students practice, directing them to mend torn scraps of paper.
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first-years began waving their wands, aiming at the paper scraps and reciting in various tones:
"Reparo!"
"Reh-PAH-ro!"
"…"
"Harry, your wand arc needs to be wider. Seamus, don't jab the target with your wand tip—keep some distance to give the magic room to work," Hermione said, peering at her classmates' attempts and offering eager advice. "Neville, you're making the same mistake I did when practicing over the summer. Don't worry about messing up—the paper's not your kneecap. Cast with confidence, and you'll be fine."
"Thanks," Neville mumbled shyly.
Harry and Seamus exchanged a glance, shrugging with resigned expressions.
Ron, after failing his spell, waited for Hermione's guidance, but it never came. Too proud to ask, he stared at his battered wand, its core's beast hair poking out, and grew frustrated, casting Reparo at the paper scraps over and over.
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