— — — — — — —
"Has Hermione really mastered the Blasting Curse (Confringo) to this extent?"
Dumbledore, observing from the shadows, couldn't help but break into a cold sweat.
"Looks like I haven't been paying enough attention to this child…"
Of course, he knew about Hermione's reputation as a genius.
He was well aware that before coming to Hogwarts, Hermione was already a top student at her Muggle school.
That's exactly why he rigged the Sorting Hat to place her in Gryffindor—so she could use that brilliant mind of hers to carry Harry and Ron, the two loveable idiots.
"H-Hermione! What did you just do?!"
Ron finally snapped out of his daze, screaming in shock.
"What do you think? I'm clearing the stage for us!"
Without waiting for a response, Hermione raised her wand again, sending out over a dozen Blasting Curses at the remaining stone pieces.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!
The statues were instantly reduced to rubble, filling the entire area with dust.
"Cough, cough!"
Ron and Harry immediately started choking, the dust turning them into two walking piles of ash.
"Scourgify!"
"Scourgify! Scourgify!"
Hermione casually flicked her wand, casting cleaning spells on both of them.
She then waved her wand at the air and the ground, sweeping all the dust into the corners of the room.
With that, the path to the next challenge was completely open.
"Hmm? That spellcasting speed and precision… Seems like Hermione has excellent control over her magic." Dumbledore was once again impressed from the shadows.
"Alright, let's go! I'll carry you two useless idiots through the rest of this!"
Hermione lifted her chin smugly before striding toward the next trial.
Ron and Harry exchanged looks.
Neither of them knew what to say.
Hermione… seemed way more violent than before.
"What are you two idiots standing around for? Hurry up!"
Hermione's irritated voice echoed from the passage ahead.
"R-Right! We're coming!!"
Snapping to attention, Ron and Harry quickly ran after her.
For the rest of the obstacles, Hermione simply bulldozed through them with brute-force magic.
Ron, Harry, and even Dumbledore—who was watching secretly—were left utterly speechless.
They had just witnessed the true definition of violence solving everything.
At last, they arrived at the final trial.
A wall of cursed fire, conjured by the Fire Trap spell, blocked their path.
There was no way through.
"Please, after you!"
Ron and Harry immediately stepped aside, dramatically bowing to Hermione and gesturing for her to take the lead.
Hermione: "???"
"What the hell are you two doing?"
She stared at them, completely baffled.
"Eh?"
Ron scratched the back of his head. "Well… haven't you just been brute-forcing everything? Can't you just blast your way through this too?"
Harry nodded furiously, like a bobblehead.
At this point, both of them had fully accepted their role as side characters in The Hermione Show.
They had no idea this entire gauntlet was actually a carefully crafted test by Dumbledore—designed to help Harry and his friends grow stronger.
The ultimate goal? To groom Harry into a hero capable of defeating the Dark Lord.
But if Harry and Ron knew the truth, would they be grateful to Dumbledore?
Not a chance.
Hell no.
Who the hell enjoys being forced into these kinds of tests?!
"Ugh… miscalculation."
Dumbledore let out a deep sigh from his hidden vantage point.
Yep, this test had gone completely off the rails.
Aside from the Devil's Snare at the beginning (which Hermione hadn't blasted apart), every other obstacle had been completely annihilated by her violent spellwork.
"You two are actual morons."
Hermione rolled her eyes so hard she almost saw the back of her skull.
She was sodone.
"Use your damn brains for once! That's cursed fire! If you so much as touch it, there won't even be ashes left of you!"
"The correct way to deal with this is to use the potions that were clearly set up right in front of us!"
"Eh?"
Ron and Harry both blinked in surprise.
This wasthe same Hermione who had been blasting everything to pieces just a moment ago, right?
Wait…So she did know how to follow the rules?!
They quickly examined the potions on the table.
Actually, there wasn't even a need to analyze them—someone had conveniently labeled them all in advance.
"There's only one potion that grants fire immunity…"
Ron frowned, looking troubled.
Harry did too.
Ron turned to Hermione. "So, uh… why don't you drink it and go on alone? I mean, you are the strongest here."
Harry nodded furiously.
Dumbledore: "..."
This… was not going according to plan.
This was supposed to be Harry's moment.
Not just because this entire trial was meant for him, but especially because of this final challenge.
Because beyond that fire… was Voldemort.
Among the three of them, only Harry had the lingering protective magic from his mother—the curse of love, the Sacrificial protection—which could counter Voldemort.
If Hermione went in instead, despite how powerful she seemed throughout this trial, Dumbledore was certain of one thing: She was not a match for Voldemort.
Even in his current weakened state, he could still kill her.
"Sigh… do I have to step in myself?"
Dumbledore let out a tired sigh in his heart.
This was not going according to plan.
Hermione was completely ignoring the expected path.
---
"You bastards! That's your reason for making me go in alone?!"
Hearing Ron's suggestion, along with Harry nodding like a bobblehead, Hermione was furious.
But she took a deep breath, calming herself.
"No need to make things so complicated! I've actually been studying potion-making recently, and I just so happen to have some extra fire-resistance potions on me!"
As she spoke, she dramatically reached into her pocket.
Of course, she had already analyzed Snape's fire-resistance potion using her [Omniscience] just moments ago.
Without anyone noticing—even avoiding Dumbledore's gaze—she had completely deconstructed the potion's formula in just a few seconds.
And right now?
She simply created an identical one inside her pocket using Fantasy Creation.
Then, she pulled out the bottle and waved it in front of Harry and Ron.
"Here! Take a look! Smell it! It's exactly the same, isn't it?"
"Whoa… it really is!"
Harry and Ron took a few whiffs and compared the colors.
Then, they both nodded rapidly.
Not that they actually knew what they were looking at.
They were just rolling with Hermione's confidence, believing she wouldn't joke about something like this.
"But there are still only two bottles…" Ron hesitated.
"You're not going," Hermione said, waving her hand dismissively. "Go back and find Professor Dumbledore for backup, just in case something happens."
Ron opened his mouth to argue—then immediately shut it.
He knew better than to challenge Hermione at this point.
After seeing her blow up everything in their path, he was genuinely afraid she'd blast him into dust too.
"Alright!"
Harry, on the other hand, wasted no time. He grabbed one of the potions, downed it in one gulp, and ran straight into the fire.
Hermione followed right behind, drinking her own potion as she stepped through the flames.
"Oh? She can already brew such an advanced potion? No wonder Snape keeps calling her a prodigy in potions…"
Dumbledore stroked his beard with a smile of approval.
---
On the other side of the flames, Harry and Hermione entered the final chamber.
And there, waiting for them, was…Professor Quirrell.
"Professor Quirrell?! Why is it you?! Where's Snape?!"
Harry stared at the man in the purple turban, his face full of disbelief.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk!"
Quirrell let out a sinister chuckle, his expression filled with mockery.
"Look at you! Even now, our dear Savior still believes that Snape was the mastermind behind all of this!"
"Hah! Poor Snape! He was trying to protect you this entire time!"
"Snape was protecting me?! That's impossible!" Harry screamed in denial.
No way.
For the past half-year, Snape had constantly targeted him.
Always embarrass him in class.
Always finds reasons to deduct his points.
Harry hatedSnape! And he was sure Snape hated him just as much.
Otherwise, why would Snape always be making his life miserable?
And now Quirrell was telling him Snape was actually a good guy?!
Harry just wanted to scream: "BULLSHIT!"
"Hahahaha!"
Quirrell laughed even harder, enjoying Harry's pain and confusion. "But that's the truth!"
"Now, tell me where the Philosopher's Stone is!"
As he spoke, Quirrell stepped closer to Harry.
"Fool! Take off that ridiculous turban! Let me speak to our dear Savior myself!"
A hoarse, sinister voice echoed from the back of Quirrell's head.
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.
Hermione, on the other hand, was completely unfazed.
She was watching this unfold like she was enjoying a show, her expression almost amused.
And that really pissed Voldemort off.
"Enough! Give me control of the body!"
Voldemort forcibly seized control from Quirrell.
"Ahhh! No! Master, please! Don't do this!"
Quirrell let out a final scream before collapsing to his knees.
"V-Voldemort…?"
Harry finally saw it—the face on the back of Quirrell's head.
A face he recognized instantly.
His eyes widened in terror.
"Hermione! RUN!"
Without hesitation, he grabbed Hermione's hand, ready to make a break for it—
.
.
.