The Max-Level Muggle-Born: Hogwarts Isekai

A few days later, her strategy paid off. From her seat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, Evelyn saw the Trio huddled together near the Gryffindor fireplace after dinner, their heads bent in conspiratorial whispers over the very Charms textbook she had left for them.

"Bluebell Flames..." she heard Hermione murmur, her voice filled with a kind of reverent excitement. "It says they're waterproof and can be conjured in a jar! That's brilliant! Most fire spells are so... destructive. This is elegant."

"Wicked," Ron breathed, pointing at the slip of parchment. "So you just set fire to it? The Devil's Snare?"

"It says it 'recoils from light and warmth,'" Hermione corrected, her tone already professorial. "So yes, a simple fire-starting charm should be enough. Honestly, it's amazing this was just left in a book like that. The precision of the charm work in this book is astounding."

"Maybe a seventh-year left it," Harry suggested, looking thoughtful. "Someone studying for their N.E.W.T.s."

"Must have been a Ravenclaw," Ron added. "Only a Ravenclaw would leave a book behind."

It had worked. A small, cold flicker of satisfaction went through Evelyn, the clean, crisp feeling of a well-executed plan coming to fruition. The Hero Party was back on track.

Her satisfaction was short-lived.

The next day in a crowded corridor between classes, she overheard a conversation that made her freeze. It was Professor McGonagall, her voice not angry, but laced with a sharp, analytical concern that set Evelyn on edge. Her target was Hermione.

"...and while I admire your enthusiasm for advanced spellwork, Miss Granger," McGonagall was saying, her sharp eyes peering over her square-rimmed spectacles, her expression one of a teacher trying to solve a difficult equation, "it is highly unusual for a first-year to be studying texts from the N.E.W.T. curriculum. The theories within Quintessence are complex even for our most senior students. May I ask where you found this book?"

Hermione, a terrible liar, went bright red from her hairline to her collar. The confident girl from the common room was gone, replaced by a flustered child caught in the spotlight. "I... I just found it, Professor. On a table in the library. I thought it was fascinating."

"I see," McGonagagll said, her eyes sharp and missing nothing. "And this page on Devil's Snare tucked inside? Also fascinating, I presume? It is a rather specific topic for casual curiosity."

"I... yes, Professor. I was just curious about different magical plants," Hermione stammered, her gaze fixed on her own shoes. "I thought it was important to be prepared."

"Prepared for what, precisely?" McGonagall asked, her voice softening slightly but losing none of its edge.

"Just... anything," Hermione mumbled.

"Curiosity is a great virtue in a witch, Miss Granger, but so is focus. There is a reason the curriculum is structured as it is. Attempting magic you are not yet prepared for can be dangerous, not only to yourself but to those around you." McGonagall handed the book back, her expression softening slightly. "I am not punishing you. I am cautioning you. Stick to your assigned reading for now."

The Head of Gryffindor gave Hermione a final, searching look and walked away. Hermione stood there for a moment, looking utterly miserable, her shoulders slumped. Her face was a mixture of embarrassment and the deep, burning frustration of being misunderstood for the very thing she was proudest of.

Evelyn watched from an alcove down the hall, a cold knot forming in her stomach. Her "subtle nudge" had worked, but it had also caused a real, messy, emotional consequence for someone she was starting to see as more than just a character. It had put Hermione under a professor's scrutiny and made her feel ashamed for her own defining trait: her love of knowledge. It was an unexpected, and unwelcome, side effect. The game was proving to have far more complex social mechanics than she had anticipated, and the emotional splash damage was something her strategic mind had failed to account for.