Hogwarts Headmaster's Office.

The shimmering white light above the Pensieve gradually dissipated, quickly returning to stillness.

Dumbledore hadn't left behind any more memories; it was as if he had merely stepped out for a short trip.

"Miss Kaslana, Hogwarts is now under your protection—"

Not far away, the Sorting Hat suddenly "awoke," its brim opening and closing, emitting a sigh of complex emotion.

"Professor Dumbledore has granted you full access to the Headmaster's Office. You are free to dispose of everything, to destroy or to innovate... the choice is entirely yours."

"Oh, I thought you would sleep forever—considering you've always been a supremely clever hat."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, glancing at the Sorting Hat placed behind the desk, her gaze moving about the quiet office.

The portraits of former Headmasters on the walls also woke up one by one, examining Hermione with various expressions, though none of them actively joined the conversation.

"Discretion is a philosophy, but I also possess the courage to face difficulties, the wisdom to unravel mysteries, and the inner strength to confront reality."

The Sorting Hat gently wriggled, uncomfortably averting its gaze from the little witch whose eyes were dancing with the flames of anger, its voice adopting a chanting tone as it tried to appear composed.

"The old era has passed. Miss Kaslana, you have brought a new dawn to Hogwarts and the wizarding world. Dumbledore believes you will make good use of this room... Whenever you need anything, be it the various books stored on the bookshelves, the wisdom of Hogwarts' former Headmasters, or even the items in every drawer and on every shelf in this room—"

"Yes, I understand—so, to put it simply, I have absolute control over the Headmaster's Office and everything within it, right?"

Hermione nodded casually, her lake-blue eyes flashing with dangerous light.

"Then, wise hat, what if I chose to simply burn this place down?"

"...Theoretically, you do have that right, but—"

The Sorting Hat chuckled dryly, but its words were cut short by a terrified stammer.

"Kenaz (fire)——"

Hermione raised her right hand, reciting softly.

"Consume everything, let the flames of purgatory cleanse this place of its lingering disgusting aura..."

Ethereal blue flames bloomed from the tips of her fair fingers, transforming in an instant into a raging inferno that surged in all directions.

The intense heat, reaching nearly a thousand degrees, instantly vaporized the moisture in the air. A faint smell of burning wafted out, and the formerly dozing Headmasters could no longer sit still.

"Stop!"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"Don't be rash! If you have a problem, take it out on Dumbledore—"

"Oh? So...the esteemed former Headmasters are also afraid of a Pyrrhic victory?"

Hermione chuckled, deftly flicking her fingers in the air.

The raging inferno returned to her fingertips as if drawn by a dragon, transforming back into a tiny, flickering flame.

"Dumbledore has not relinquished his position as Headmaster, which means he can still remotely observe Hogwarts through the various portraits scattered throughout the wizarding world."

"The portraits of Hogwarts' former Headmasters have sworn to provide assistance to the current Headmaster. I am well aware of this ancient agreement. However, I believe you all know what has happened..."

"If I discover that anyone leaks secrets from this office, or secretly provides 'surveillance' assistance to Albus Dumbledore, I will burn all the portraits in the Headmaster's Office, the Sorting Hat, and erase all your other portraits in the wizarding world bit by bit—I'm giving you half a day to consider whether you wish to remain on the walls."

She lightly flicked her finger, and the small flame traced a graceful arc before landing in the nearby fireplace, igniting a bright fire.

A few shimmering pinches of Floo Powder drifted from the snuffbox beside the fireplace, falling into the dancing flames.

"Hyperion, establish a sustained connection, be ready to support Hogwarts at any time."

As the flames turned bright green, Hermione's voice, enhanced by magic, flew over the flames and into the sky.

Since mastering the runic fire runes, she had reached an incredibly terrifying level of control over magical flames.

If it had been her two years ago, perhaps she really would have burned the Headmaster's Office to the ground, but she didn't intend to do so now—after all, this was now her personal property.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Since the wicked old turnip dared to break his promise and harm her family, he had to be prepared for the reckoning.

Of course, she had something even more important to do than retaliatory revenge...

"Fawkes, I need a small favor. Could you take me for a short flight later—"

Hermione gently stroked the phoenix's slender neck, casually pulling out a few grains of tiny fish rice from her chest and feeding them to him.

"Location, main entrance of the castle."

A resounding, melodious cry.

Golden-red flames enveloped Hermione, and the next moment she vanished from the Headmaster's Office.

***

"Hogwarts is very complex. Please don't wander around later, Hermione still gets lost in the castle."

"Oh, Hermione is a bit of a ditz, her sense of direction has always been poor..."

"Poor is an understatement. I've lived in Hogwarts for centuries, and I've never seen a witch as lacking in a sense of direction as Miss Kaslana—"

Hogwarts, main entrance of the castle.

Grindelwald and Benitez chatted as they walked along the long path toward the castle.

Just like the famous broken jar theory, now that Hermione's identity as the "mastermind" had been fully exposed, the topic between the two had opened up.

Aside from certain "Major Arcana" past events that couldn't be discussed, the two quickly found common ground in taking care of Hermione.

Nearly Headless Nick floated lightly in front of them, occasionally twisting his nearly detached head, joining in the conversation between the "cheap" father and son.

As the most special member of the Major Arcana Council, he wasn't worried about the witch's threats—after all, he was a ghost who had died hundreds of years ago, and death was his best weapon.

"...Really? Sir Nicholas. I don't believe it."

Just then, a dazzling golden-red light appeared to the side of the Hogwarts gate.

Hermione lightly released her right hand, and the phoenix Fawkes' beautiful tail feathers brushed against her shoulder as he flew upwards.

"It seems you guys are having a good time—I thought the atmosphere would be a little more serious after the serum injection."

"Cough, I have some things to do, I'll go first."

Grindelwald glanced at the bright-smiling little witch, his eyelids twitched, and he quickly pointed to the stairs next to him.

"You know, I'm also a full-time professor at this magic school, I have a lot of classes waiting for parent-teacher conferences, I have to go quickly..."

***

***

Oh dear!