Hermione's entire body stiffened.
She smelled a pleasant, cold fragrance on Tamara, like cedar in winter.
"Too stiff," Tamara said in a low voice, like a stern mentor. "The wand is your arm, not a baton. You must guide the magic, not fling it out."
"Watch closely."
Tamara drew her holly wand.
She didn't shout like Hermione had, nor did she wave her wand as if she were hacking at someone.
Her movements were extremely slight; her wrist merely turned with an elegant, subtle arc, as if drawing an invisible symbol in the air.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The incantation left her mouth, soft as a sigh, with pronunciation as perfect as a textbook audio sample.
The next second.
The candy wrapper, which had been as still as a dead fish just a moment ago, suddenly seemed to come to life.
It floated up lightly—not with a wobbly ascent, but hovering steadily and elegantly in mid-air.
Following the guidance of Tamara's wand, the candy wrapper began to dance within the small space of the compartment.
It folded and flipped, eventually folding itself into the shape of a paper crane in the air. It circled Hermione's head once before landing gently on the tip of her nose.
"Whoa..."
Harry and Ron stared in daze.
This was on an entirely different level from Hermione's strained performance earlier.
This was magic.
Truly artistic magic.
Hermione Granger felt as if her breathing had stopped.
She stared blankly at the paper crane on the tip of her nose, then looked up at the black-haired girl holding the wand with a calm expression.
In that instant, the bit of pride in Hermione's heart was shattered to pieces.
But strangely, she didn't feel jealous or angry.
On the contrary, as she looked at Tamara's exquisite profile and her elegant, composed posture, Hermione's heart suddenly skipped a beat.
So strong.
So beautiful.
This was what she wanted to become!
Hermione's brown eyes, which had originally held scrutiny and arrogance, instantly turned into starry eyes, shimmering with a near-fanatical admiration.
"How... how did you do that?"
Hermione's voice trembled slightly. She stood up abruptly and leaned in close to Tamara, completely forgetting about social distancing.
"Was that origami part of the Levitation Charm too? Or was it Transfiguration? Was there some specific trick to the angle you flicked your wrist? Can you teach me?"
Facing the suddenly fanatical Hermione, Tamara took a subtle step back.
[Ding! Task completed: Fond of Teaching Others.]
[Intelligence +5. Current Intelligence: 15.]
[Extra Reward: Hermione Granger's Favorability Task unlocked.]
[Current Favorability: 10/100.]
Tamara looked at the system panel, her mood improving slightly.
At least she got the points.
"This is just the basics, Granger."
Tamara withdrew her wand, her tone still carrying a hint of aloofness. "If you could close that incessant mouth and feel the flow of magic more, perhaps you could do it too."
If anyone else had said that, with Hermione Granger's proud personality, she probably would have turned red and argued back long ago.
But now, looking at the exquisite paper crane on the tip of her nose, Hermione found that she couldn't even get angry.
"I will do it."
Hermione bit her lip, a defiant fire burning in her brown eyes as she looked directly at Tamara, her tone firm. "Since you can do it, I definitely can too."
Tamara raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by this mudblood's stubbornness.
"Then prove it to me," she said nonchalantly, sitting back down in her seat.
Hermione didn't continue her usual long-winded speech. She carefully tucked the paper crane into her pocket and then looked at the empty seat next to Tamara.
"Can I sit here?" she asked, no longer using her haughty, commanding tone, but one filled with an expectation she hadn't even noticed herself.
Tamara had a bit of a headache.
Her compartment had practically become a gathering spot for the Gryffindor reserve of foolish lions.
"Suit yourself." She reopened her book.
Hermione's eyes lit up, and she immediately put the matter of searching for the toad in the corridor out of her mind, plopping down next to Tamara.
The compartment finally quieted down, leaving only the monotonous rhythm of the wheels rolling over the tracks.
Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened. A deep purple night shroud enveloped the rolling hills and woods, and distant lights could be seen.
"We're almost there." Harry looked out the window, both nervous and excited; this was the first time he had been so close to that magical world.
"Please put on your robes," a voice came over the speaker. "We will be leaving our luggage on the train over there."
Hermione stood up, glanced at Harry and Ron's old clothes which they hadn't changed out of yet, and frowned.
"You'd better change quickly, I think we're almost there."
Then she turned to look at Tamara.
Tamara was still wearing those dark green silk robes. In the dim light of the compartment, the outline of her profile seemed exceptionally soft, yet it still carried a coldness that kept people at a distance.
Hermione looked at her, and that strange feeling bubbled up again.
She wanted to say something, like complimenting her robes or asking about the book she was reading, but the words stuck in her throat and turned into a dry: "See you in a bit."
The train finally came to a halt.
As soon as they stepped off the train, a blast of cold, biting wind hit them in the face.
The platform was pitch black, with only a single lamp swaying in the distance.
"First years! First years over here!"
A thunderous voice boomed over the heads of the crowd.
It was Rubeus Hagrid.
Tamara looked at the massive half-Giant, who stood like a small mountain, holding a large lantern. His beard almost covered his entire face.
She was all too familiar with this pathetic oaf. It was because of her that he had been expelled from Hogwarts, and only by Dumbledore's grace had he found a job as a gamekeeper to keep from starving.
Looking at Hagrid's familiar and foolish face, Tamara actually felt a bizarre sense of nostalgia.
Nothing but a half-Giant mongrel.
Tamara suppressed the ill-timed sentiment in her heart; this new body always brought her some inexplicable emotions.
"C'mon now, follow me, first years! Watch your step!"
Hagrid shouted loudly, leading them down a steep, narrow path.
It was pitch black on either side of the path, with some unknown woods. The wind blowing through the leaves made a rustling sound, like the whispers of countless ghosts.
No one spoke; the new students were awestruck by the solemn and mysterious atmosphere.
"Ye'll get yer first sight o' Hogwarts in a moment," Hagrid called back.
When the view ahead suddenly opened up, everyone let out a collective gasp of wonder.
At the end of the narrow path was a vast Black Lake.
Perched atop a high cliff on the opposite side of the lake stood a towering Castle.
The Castle was bristling with spires, and its windows flickered with warm light under the starry sky.
Hogwarts.
It was the place with the densest magic in all of Britain, a holy land in the hearts of all young Wizards.
To others, it was a school.
But to Tamara Riddle, it was the first place she would conquer.
She stood by the Black Lake, the cold wind whipping her long black hair.
Looking at the Castle, a heart-palpitating fire slowly ignited in Tamara's black eyes.
It was ambition.
A desire to conquer everything that could not be extinguished, even after dying once, even after becoming what she was now.
[Ding! host's Ambition Level detected as off the charts.]
[System Tip: Conquering the world is too exhausting. Why not first think about how to avoid being sorted into Hufflepuff?]
"Shut up," Tamara clenched her fist. "I won't go anywhere except Slytherin."
[What about Azkaban?]
Tamara: "...That won't happen either. Both times I died directly; I never even made it into Azkaban."