Back to business—after buying a mountain of books, of course Arthur was going to read them.
But soon, Hermione noticed something odd: her cousin always seemed to have these strange books in his hands—books she had never seen before.
Having long since finished pre-studying all her first-year textbooks, the little witch pestered Arthur for something new to read, endlessly questioning where he got these books.
Helpless, Arthur could only make up an excuse about some mysterious wizard pen pal who'd sent them to him. To keep her happy, he handed her a copy of the upper-year Charms textbook.
Hermione's eyes lit up the moment she saw it. She hugged the book like a treasure, spending her days utterly absorbed in study. Whenever she came across something she couldn't understand, she immediately ran to Arthur for help.
And, being Sellen's disciple, Arthur's teaching skills were naturally excellent.
Under his guidance, Hermione's grasp of spells grew at a frankly terrifying pace.
This, in turn, made Arthur let go of his obsession with pulling her into Ravenclaw.
At first, his idea had been to keep Hermione away from the reckless little lions of Gryffindor—so she wouldn't end up in danger.
But later, he thought: If Dumbledore can raise his "Chosen One," then why can't I cultivate my own little witch?
And so, in Arthur's system inventory, a notebook appeared titled "The Little Witch Training Program."
As for which House Hermione would eventually end up in, he only gave her a rational analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of the four houses, leaving the final choice to her.
Sometimes, Arthur couldn't help but imagine: if Hermione did end up in Gryffindor as in the original timeline, would things really devolve into "Hermione and Her Two Useless Classmates"?
Finally, on the last night before the start of term, Arthur produced his very first alchemical creation—
A magic trap.
And not just the standard version—a modified one.
The original version could be found in the Carian royal domains: a trap placed on the ground that would explode with magical energy when someone stepped within range.
Arthur's version was even stronger—more portable, easily buried, and ready to trigger.
In short: a magical landmine.
He tested it on the carriage-hauling giants near the ruins of the Roundtable Hold. They didn't even have time to react before being blasted back into the Erdtree's embrace.
"Excellent. As expected of my disciple—you've already set foot on the path of alchemy."
"And I've also finished analyzing the method for creating your stone. Here, this scroll contains the crafting process."
"Thank you, Teacher!" Arthur exclaimed, overjoyed at the double blessing, and accepted the scroll.
"My good disciple, there's no need to be so polite with your master."
"And I've reviewed your modified trap as well. A fine direction of study. So—what do you plan to research next?"
"Next, I want to study the magical devices used by the Cuckoo Knights."
"You know, those guys west of Liurnia who throw things to the ground and fire off streams of glintstone meteors."
Had Arthur been able to see her face, he would have noticed Sellen giving him the look one reserves for a complete idiot.
"Disciple… let's be honest. Don't you Tarnished have a tool called a Cracked Pot?"
Arthur froze on the spot, as if struck by a Silencio from his teacher.
"Bloody hell! You're right—I totally forgot I already had that!"
He'd been so focused on making a magic grenade from scratch, he'd overlooked the obvious solution right in his pack.
"Disciple, perhaps it's time you got out and explored. Gather some Runes. If you stay cooped up with me any longer, I fear you'll get dumber instead of smarter."
"Cough, cough—yes, Teacher. Then I'll take my leave. Take care!"
And with that, Arthur all but fled the Roundtable Hold.
After all, making a rookie mistake like that in front of his master was just too embarrassing.
The next morning, Hermione dragged Arthur out of bed, claiming they were going to miss the train to school.
He glanced at the clock by his bed.
Six o'clock.
Five full hours before the Hogwarts Express was due to depart, according to Professor McGonagall.
"Books, robes, cauldron, scales… what am I forgetting?"
As soon as Arthur stepped out of his room, he saw the little witch pacing nervously, muttering to herself.
He knew—it was nerves.
She'd only read about the wizarding world in books. Now she was about to face it in reality, and she didn't know what to expect.
Arthur took her hand and sat her down.
"Hermione, there's no need to worry so much. We're just going to school, not fighting Dark Wizards."
Well… technically, if things follow the script, this term we really will be facing Dark Wizards. The head Dark Wizard, no less, he grumbled inwardly.
"Cousin, I'm still worried. The wizarding kids—they've grown up with magic. What if I can't keep up with them?"
"Haha, so that's what you're afraid of."
"Here's the truth—our magic is unstable at this age. It fluctuates with our emotions. The strongest spells in wizardkind are all tied to emotion—for instance, the three Unforgivable Curses."
"For safety's sake, wizarding parents usually don't let their kids formally study magic early. And without a wand, a child can't properly cast anyway."
"At best, wizard-born kids have seen more than us, that's all."
Understanding her true worry, Arthur let out a breath of relief and reassured her.
"But… I'm not a genius like you. What if I can't keep up with classes?"
If he hadn't known she was genuinely nervous, he'd have thought she was just showing off.
"Please. You've already pre-studied the entire first-year curriculum—and you've even started on higher-level spells. And you're worried about not keeping up?"
"Or are you doubting your cousin's teaching? Thinking I taught you all the wrong things, hmm?" he said, feigning indignation.
"No, no! My cousin's teaching is the best! Without your help, I'd never have mastered the material so quickly!" Hermione hurried to explain.
"That's better. There's nothing to be afraid of—it's just school. But if you're still nervous, want me to tell you a secret about the Sorting Ceremony?"
Hermione's eyes immediately lit up. She grabbed his hand eagerly. "Tell me! Tell me!"
Indeed—no matter the age, women cannot resist secrets and gossip.
"In truth, the Sorting Ceremony involves a hat—a magical hat created by Godric Gryffindor, one of the four founders. It's called the Sorting Hat."
"All a student has to do is put it on, and the hat will judge their nature and place them in the House most suited to them."
"At some point, it became an unspoken rule among wizards: never tell incoming students the truth about the ceremony. Older students even make a game of scaring the newcomers."
"They'll tell them things like: 'You'll have to fight a dragon during the ceremony!'"
At this, Hermione burst out laughing. She realized wizards weren't so different from ordinary people after all. They just had magic. And she was about to become one of them.
Thinking this, she began to look forward to school life with genuine excitement.
Time passed. Half an hour before the Hogwarts Express was due to leave, the Granger family arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
Naturally, Professor McGonagall was too meticulous to forget, like Hagrid, to tell them how to access the platform.
Mrs. Granger fussed over them, instructing:
"Children, be kind to your new classmates. Remember to write to me every week. Tell me anything at all, alright?"
Mr. Granger, on the other hand, turned to Arthur with mock severity:
"Take care of your cousin. If anything happens to her, you'll answer to me!"
Before he could finish, Mrs. Granger gave him a sharp pinch.
"Don't listen to your uncle's nonsense."
Arthur nodded seriously.
"Don't worry, Uncle, Aunt. I'll look after Hermione."
After saying her tearful goodbyes, Hermione tugged Arthur by the hand and pulled him onto the train.