Chapter 85: A New Beginning
"Dumbledore is old. He's tired—he doesn't want to keep going anymore. But the wizarding world must continue. It needs new successors so that peace can last—both in the magical world and the normal world, to preserve the lives people already have."
George spoke calmly. This wasn't just theory—it was his genuine belief, something he was already working toward.
"Do you want to become Dumbledore's successor?" Hermione asked, confused. She hadn't expected this. Was George trying to become the next leader against evil?
"No. You can't rely on one person to fight evil, nor on one person to protect the wizarding world. Otherwise, that person will end up just like Dumbledore."
George leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.
"When Voldemort was at his peak, Dumbledore barely held things together. After Voldemort fell, he was already old… waiting for death."
George didn't show much reverence when speaking of Dumbledore. In his time, Dumbledore had already stepped into the background, no longer able to inspire the younger generation the way he once had.
"So… the people you want are Harry, Ron… and even…" Hermione rolled her eyes, hesitated, then added, "…me?"
"Not just you—others too," George said lightly. If he wanted to build a force of justice, he wouldn't reject anyone willing to stand for it.
Then he suddenly raised his voice in a formal tone:
"Miss Hermione Granger, are you ready to fight evil and defend world peace? When darkness falls, are you prepared to save the world?"
Everyone in the café heard him.
Hermione's face flushed instantly. She didn't dare look around, but she could feel the friendly gazes and smiles directed at her. Still, George's words stirred something inside her.
Encouraged, she stood straighter and declared in a clear, pleasant voice:
"When darkness falls, I will drive it away. When light fades, I will bring it back. Wherever I stand, there will be no resentment."
"Clap! Clap! Clap!"
The café burst into applause.
Hermione's ears and cheeks burned as she grabbed George's arm and dragged him out of the café. Behind them, faint voices could still be heard:
"I want to join!""You're too young!""Role-playing!""The guests haven't even left yet!"
Under the night sky, the moon shone brightly, surrounded by countless stars. Cool silver moonlight draped over the hills like a soft veil, climbing up toward the towering castle.
The castle's spires pierced the sky, and light spilled from its open windows along with the lively noise within.
Inside, the atmosphere was joyful.
The high ceiling seemed almost transparent, revealing the starry sky above. Floating candles flickered in the air, warming the hall and dispelling the chill.
The orange glow illuminated the grand dining hall of Hogwarts, where students and teachers gathered together.
And there it was—the old, patched, worn-out Sorting Hat.
Hermione looked at the nervous first-year student beneath the hat, her heart filled with emotion.
Just a year ago, she had stood there herself, waiting anxiously for her fate to be decided. Now she was a second-year—someone who had already spent a year at Hogwarts and grown into an outstanding young witch.
Back in Diagon Alley, she had truly considered leaving school. She had even prepared herself for it.
But in the end, George had convinced her.
How could she run away so easily?
She had already glimpsed the mysteries of the magical world—she could never go back to being an ordinary little girl.
And as George had said, life would always have hardships. Even if you avoided one problem, what about the next?
The shadow of Voldemort still loomed over the wizarding world. If he ever succeeded—if he took control—no one would be safe.
The safety of the real world couldn't rely solely on others, nor on escape.
She believed George might one day stop Voldemort.
But she also wanted to be part of that fight.
She didn't tell her parents, but she had already made up her mind—to protect them, protect the school, and protect everything she cherished.
"Honestly, they can't even fix the Sorting Hat? It looks terrible," Hermione muttered quietly as she watched another first-year—a girl with beautiful blonde hair—put it on.
"Exactly! Even if they can't fix it, they could at least clean it," Parvati Patil quickly agreed. As Hermione's dormmate, she was a beautiful Indian girl, and the two got along very well.
Hermione watched as one student after another was sorted into their houses, applause echoing through the hall.
Not leaving school… really was the right choice.
This life—it was wonderful.
As the Sorting Ceremony neared its end, Hermione suddenly looked around.
Where were Harry and Ron?
Now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen them on the train. She had been talking with George and hadn't paid much attention, assuming they'd meet at school.
But now the feast was about to begin—and they still hadn't appeared.
That made her uneasy.
She glanced toward the Ravenclaw table, where George was chatting with Katie.
"George probably doesn't know either…" Hermione murmured. After all, they had been on the train together.
She leaned toward the others and asked:
"Has anyone seen Harry or Ron? The feast is about to start. Did you see them on the train? I didn't."
"I haven't seen them either," Neville said, looking a bit flustered. "But we should go check. If anyone knows, it would be you—your friendship with them is the closest."
Others also shook their heads.
"No, none of us saw them on the train."
"I'll go ask Fred," Neville said, noticing Hermione's worry as he pushed his way toward Fred.
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