Imagine being hand-fed by the Ice Queen, the formidable Hermione. It seemed like an impossible fantasy, yet here it was, unfolding right before their very eyes. And the recipient of such an honor? None other than Adele, the seemingly unremarkable Sequence Five, usually relegated to breathing the stale air of the bottom rung.

How had she earned the attention, the affection, of a goddess who resided among the clouds?

Hermione carefully lifted a strand of noodles with her chopsticks, blowing on it gently to cool it down before offering it to Adele’s waiting lips.

Adele wasn’t used to being pampered. She came from humble beginnings. But Hermione treated her with the care and tenderness one would reserve for a precious princess.

Adele slurped the noodles down with a satisfied sigh. The broth, though simple, was flavorful, warming her from the inside out. Her gaze flickered to the side, landing on a plate of peeled lobster meat. A flicker of longing crossed her features before vanishing just as quickly.

Hermione caught the fleeting look but didn’t comment. She understood. Adele was a proud girl with a strong sense of self-worth. Hermione had gotten carried away, ordering far too much food.

 

However, a wave of warmth spread through Hermione’s chest as she watched Adele savor the simple noodles she had made. It meant that Adele cared, that she valued Hermione’s efforts, her intentions.

Still, Hermione knew that no one could resist the allure of such a luxurious spread. Just because Adele possessed a strong sense of pride and self-respect didn’t mean she was immune to the pleasures of good food.

It seemed a little persuasion was in order.

In the end, Adele couldn’t refuse Hermione’s insistence.

“Fine…” she mumbled, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. “You win. I’ll try some.”

*Finally,* she thought, her heart singing. *Time to feast!*

Adele had gone through great lengths to convince Hermione that she preferred the simple noodles, resisting the temptation to drool over the extravagant spread. It wasn’t that Hermione’s cooking was bad. Not at all. But to call it the best in the world would be a stretch.

 

Noodles were noodles, after all. And lobster was… well, lobster!

Still, Adele kept her appetite in check, sampling only a few bites of the other dishes. The rest would be carefully stored away, to be enjoyed later. It was the thought that counted. And the image she was trying to project.

It was a shame she couldn’t invite Sharon, her roommate-slash-secret-stalker, to help her finish it all. Adele believed in sharing her blessings.

But she couldn’t risk revealing that she knew Sharon’s true identity just yet.

After dinner, Adele and Hermione cleaned up together, washing the dishes side-by-side. Adele was amazed that Hermione, the Ice Queen herself, would willingly subject herself to such a mundane task.

It was, in fact, Hermione’s first time washing dishes. She endured the unfamiliar feeling of greasy water on her fingers, meticulously cleaning each plate and utensil.

All because she couldn’t bear the thought of Adele lifting a finger.

 

Adele, touched by Hermione’s thoughtfulness, leaned against her, her gaze soft and affectionate.

They felt like a real couple, sharing a quiet evening together. Bickering, making up, enjoying a meal, cleaning up afterwards…

Hermione, lost in thought, couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing. She had everything money could buy, a life of luxury and privilege, yet she had never experienced the warmth, the simple joys of domesticity, until now.

In that moment, hidden from Adele’s view, a steely determination hardened in Hermione’s eyes. Not just for today, but for all the days to come, for a lifetime with Adele.

She would win against Dorothy, no matter the cost.

But she wouldn’t burden Adele with this knowledge, not yet.

Hermione had never understood the meaning of worry, of fear, until now. She couldn’t bear the thought of Adele being afraid for her.

 

So, she would walk this path alone, clearing a path for their future, one thorny obstacle at a time.

That night, Hermione stayed in Adele’s room. They slept in the same bed, but there was no impropriety, their goodnight kiss as chaste as a knight’s vow.

Hermione held Adele close, her embrace tight and possessive.

The next morning, Hermione slipped away before Adele woke up, leaving behind a delicious breakfast on the table.

Adele reached for Hermione instinctively, her arms meeting only empty sheets. She frowned, pushing her messy hair out of her eyes as she made her way downstairs.

Her bare legs, pale and smooth in the morning light, brushed against each other with each step, an alluring sight.

Downstairs, a plate of ham sandwiches, toast with jam, and a glass of milk awaited her. And a note, written on a bright pink sticky note.

 

Adele’s heart skipped a beat as she peeled it off the table.

*Don’t skip breakfast. Love, Hermione*

The handwriting was elegant, a testament to the Ice Queen’s refined upbringing.

But it was the message itself that made Adele’s cheeks burn.

The word “love”, stark and bold, jumped out at her.

If Adele remembered correctly, Hermione wasn’t the type to express her feelings openly. She was aloof, reserved, and sometimes frustratingly tsundere.

And yet, here she was, using the “L-word” so casually. She was changing, becoming more direct, more open with her affections.

 

But then why leave without a word?

Was she still shy? Was it easier to express her feelings on paper than to say them out loud?

Or… was she afraid that she wouldn’t be able to say them again?

Was this her way of ensuring that Adele knew, just in case…

Of course, the Ice Queen, with her unwavering confidence, believed she would emerge victorious. But some fears, it seemed, transcended even the strongest of convictions.

Having someone to care for, someone to cherish, had turned even the indomitable Ice Queen vulnerable.

Only Hermione knew the turmoil in her own heart as she penned those two little words.

 

Adele, oblivious to Hermione’s inner struggle, felt a pang of disappointment, a shadow of sadness darkening her mood.

*Why, Hermione… why didn’t you tell me? *

Adele was powerless against those who showed her genuine affection.

And so, despite her best efforts, Hermione had wormed her way into Adele’s heart.

The delicious breakfast suddenly lost its appeal. But she forced herself to eat every bite. It was what Hermione would have wanted.

By the time she finished, her stomach was uncomfortably full. And for some reason, she felt oddly… aroused.

Adele shook her head, banishing the inappropriate thought. As she cleared the table, her gaze fell on the door across from hers.

 

Half an hour later, Adele stepped out of the apartment.

Only then did Sharon, like a creature of the night emerging from its lair, dare to leave her room. She crept down the stairs, her footsteps silent as a whisper, her small frame almost blending into the shadows.

She moved like a ghost, her pale face, a consequence of years spent in the darkness, devoid of any color. Her silver-grey hair and hunched shoulders gave her a timid, almost fragile appearance.

She wanted a glass of water. That was all. But the aroma of noodles, wafting from the dining table, stopped her in her tracks.

She assumed it was Adele’s breakfast. Maybe she had just stepped out for a bit.

Sharon decided to have her water and retreat back to her room, back to the safety of her self-imposed isolation.

But as she approached the table, a note, propped up against a bowl of noodles, caught her eye.

 

*Don’t forget to eat breakfast, mysterious roommate. – Adele*

Sharon picked up the note, her heart clenching.

Even to a stranger, a reclusive roommate she had never met, Adele extended kindness and consideration.

She was too good for this world.

………………

It was Saturday, so Adele had the day off. She decided to use this time to explore the world of the novel, to uncover the secrets Hermione was keeping from her, and to prepare herself for the inevitable encounter with the “Witches”.

The Witches were humans who had fully succumbed to their darker impulses, transforming into powerful beings.

 

It was said that a villain was three times stronger after turning evil, and a hero seven times weaker after turning good.

The Witches were far more powerful than they had been as humans.

Logically, with Adele’s current abilities, she shouldn’t have been assigned any missions involving Witches.

But this was the protagonist we were talking about. Trouble had a way of finding her.

Next week, Adele would embark on her first mission. The magic training sessions were merely a prelude to the real deal. There was one more session before her first assignment.

If Adele remembered correctly, it was during that session that her magic refinement level would finally reach level one. From 0.5 to 1.

A momentous occasion, indeed.

 

And so, Adele, the weakest link in the entire academy, would be assigned the easiest mission imaginable, along with a few other unremarkable classmates.

[Mission: Search for traces of foreign races.]

How easy was it?

Let’s just say that in a world teeming with hidden foreign races, some with legal identities, some without… it wouldn’t be difficult to find a discarded soda can or water bottle with traces of foreign energy.

It was like going out for a leisurely stroll and picking up trash along the way.

The instructor would then evaluate the “evidence” and give Adele a passing grade. It was a formality, really.

After all, a talentless vampire like Adele would most likely end up stuck in some remote village or town, working as a glorified clerk for a government agency, compiling reports and retrieving data on foreign races in the area.

 

Two jobs for the price of one!

But Adele was the protagonist, and trouble had a way of finding her, even when she wasn’t looking for it.

Her first mini-boss, a “tutorial boss” so to speak, would make her grand entrance soon. The vengeful Witch.

Mortally wounded and with only days left to live, the Witch was determined to spread her hatred, to make the world suffer as she had suffered.

She would set her sights on Adele, the lone wolf who strayed from her team, and turn her into a Witch as well.

Adele’s own simmering rage, her burning desire for revenge against the vampires, would draw the Witch to her, like a moth to a flame. She would see Adele as a kindred spirit.

And so, Adele, both her human and vampire blood tainted by the Witch’s magic, would be branded a foreign race, destined to walk a lonely path.

 

Thus began her journey to power, her ascent through the ranks.

To the outside world, she would still be the unremarkable Sequence Five. But in secret, her powers as a Witch would grow, her true strength hidden from view.

It was a classic case of “hiding your strength and biding your time”, a trope often used to set up satisfying “underdog” victories later in the story. It was also a convenient way to explain the protagonist’s rapid power growth.

However, the current Adele had only one thing to say about that:

If you’re going to write a “hidden power” story, at least make it satisfying! Why make the protagonist suffer even more?

Why make the “tiger” get ridden by the very creatures it was supposed to devour?

The thought sent shivers down Adele’s spine.

 

But she was here now, in this world, as the protagonist. And she would change the course of the story.

She spent the entire day at the academy library, poring over ancient texts, absorbing information like never before.

When she finally returned to her apartment, exhausted but her mind buzzing with newfound knowledge, the first thing she checked was the dining table.

The note was gone. As was the bowl of noodles. Sharon had eaten it, washed the dishes, and put everything away.

It was a start.

Adele hoped that one day, Sharon would finally confide in her, confess her sins, and seek forgiveness.

And Saint Adele, in her infinite mercy, would forgive Sharon’s transgressions and welcome her as her loyal follower!

 

The thought brought a smile to Adele’s face.

It was time for some well-deserved relaxation. She declined invitations from both Celeste and Tang Linlang, content to spend the evening curled up in her room, scrolling through her phone.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Late that night, a knock on the door shattered the silence.

Adele frowned. It couldn’t be for Sharon. So who…?

Could it be Hermione again?