The meeting between Charlie and Puxi was just the beginning.
As the second son of the Weasley family, Charlie never gave much thought to what might happen between him and this peculiar girl. It was just instinct—he could tell she was no ordinary person, and there was no harm in getting to know her. After all, anyone who could dislocate a young dragon's jaw with a single punch was hardly simple.
Besides, at least he knew a thing or two about cooking, thanks to years of learning from his mum, Molly Weasley. He wasn't about to stand by and watch the girl gnaw on raw, bloody meat.
When the girl named Puxi tasted the wild boar ribs Charlie had grilled, her eyes went wide with delight. Grease dripped down her chin as she devoured the food, mumbling praise between mouthfuls.
"Mmm, so good... From now on... mmm... you make this for me every day, I'll go hunt wild boar... mmm, I want to eat your grilled meat for the rest of my life..."
Her words sent a flush racing across Charlie's cheeks. He was well aware Puxi had no idea what that last sentence might mean in other contexts.
"Ahem, no problem." Charlie cleared his throat and agreed, trying to play it cool.
Well, it was just cooking—nothing complicated.
"Eat slowly. I'll make you some tea... Learned this from a big friend of mine. Too much meat, and a bit of tea will help your stomach." As he spoke, Charlie set a kettle on the stove and began to boil water.
"Tea? Never had it before. Thanks!" Puxi squinted at him, then went right back to her feast.
Watching her eat so happily, Charlie couldn't help but smile.
What a strange, energetic girl, he thought.
He found himself regretting that he'd sent off his letters too early. If he'd waited, he could have written about meeting Puxi. Qin would have loved to hear about something this wild—he always had ideas no one else did.
The thought made Charlie nostalgic for his days at Hogwarts—truly unforgettable memories.
"Here! Have some meat. When you're full, your mood gets better!" The girl suddenly handed him a juicy rib, her face earnest.
She must've noticed the red-haired boy's spirits dip for a moment.
"...Thanks!"
Charlie took the meat, hesitated, then copied her—biting into it with gusto.
He had to admit, eating like this really did lift his mood.
The water boiled, the tea was ready. One cup each. Puxi cradled hers in both hands, blowing on the steam, sipping the bitter-yet-sweet brew in little gulps. Her eyes curved into contented crescents, while Charlie watched her awkward but joyful manner, his gaze softening.
Life at the dragon sanctuary suddenly didn't seem so dull.
...
...
The fateful encounter between lifelong bachelor Charlie Weasley and the wild, adorably clueless Puxi was like a meteor falling to earth—seemingly random, but somehow inevitable.
Of course, neither of them noticed the hand of fate at work, or its silent mischief. They simply enjoyed the happiness of meeting—one delighted by the taste of meat, the other by the sight of her eating it.
As the saying goes: "A sapling needs ten years for its shade, and human affairs are shaped by far more than a few."
This was just the beginning. Let's set it aside for now, and return to it later.
Next, let's follow Charlie's letters—riding on owl wings, passing through several magical relays, switching from one owl to another—until finally, they arrive at that legendary school of magic: Hogwarts!
At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the first week of the new term was in full swing. The troubles of the outside world seemed to be kept at bay by some invisible hand. The whole campus buzzed with life—upper years restless after the holidays, first-years bright-eyed and reckless.
Among the older students, Fred and George—those mischievous twins—had tried to get Professor Quirrell to remove his garlic-scented turban, only to lose ten points each for causing trouble.
Among the first-years, Harry, Ron, and Adam often found themselves scolded by caretaker Argus Filch for turning up in corridors where they didn't belong. Even when Harry and Ron explained they'd simply taken a wrong turn, Filch wouldn't let up, berating them at length.
As a second-year, Qin Yu didn't go looking for trouble like the Weasley twins, and Hermione—unlike most first-years—never got lost in Hogwarts' labyrinth of corridors and moving staircases.
There was a simple reason for that: she had a very qualified guide.
"...We've already been to all the main classrooms, the greenhouses, the workrooms, and the storerooms. And you know about the staircases and doors that sometimes shift or vanish—just keep an eye out for those. Finally, if you do get lost, do you remember what I told you to do?" Qin Yu pointed to each spot on a simple map, then looked at Hermione.
"Stay where I am, and blow the whistle!" Hermione replied, solemn as ever.
"Good. Excellent." Qin Yu nodded, satisfied.
The "whistle" Hermione mentioned wasn't an ordinary one. It barely made a sound. Crafted from a special alchemical material, it resonated with a matching piece Qin Yu carried. If Hermione ever got into trouble, he'd know at once—and he could roughly sense her location.
Naturally, the material had been a parting gift from Professor Swinton. Qin Yu had spent nearly the whole summer figuring out how to shape it into a warning whistle.
He'd finished it just after term began, gave it to Hermione, and taught her how to use it.
It was breakfast time now. Dozens of industrious owls swooped into the Great Hall, dropping letters and parcels onto the tables below.
Qin Yu's white owl dropped a letter right into his hands.
He instinctively glanced around, as if searching for something—or someone. Then he shrugged, a wry smile on his lips, thinking he was being a bit paranoid.
He couldn't help it. Lately, he'd had the odd feeling that someone was watching him, though he could never find the source.
"Maybe it's because I'm the protagonist—some higher-dimensional observer keeping an eye on me?" The thought was ridiculous, but it made him chuckle.
Shaking off the nonsense, he opened the letter.
"...It's from Charlie. He's writing about life at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. Sounds pretty interesting. He even invited me to visit if I ever get the chance." Qin Yu skimmed the letter, then spoke to Hermione, who was craning her neck to get a look.
"Dragon sanctuary? Are there really dragons there?" Hermione's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Of course. But he doesn't have a camera, so he can't send pictures. Otherwise, we'd probably have a photo of him with a fire dragon by now." Qin Yu's tone was tinged with regret.
After all, in his previous life, he'd had a smartphone with millions of pixels—he could snap whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
Now, things weren't so convenient. Even taking a casual photo of his sister or girlfriend meant borrowing a magical camera from a classmate.
Sigh. It was already 1991, and our Mr. Qin hadn't even shot a single video. (Qin Yu: Author, if you keep misusing words, I'll chuck a giant melon at you, see if I don't!)
...
After breakfast, they split up for classes—Qin Yu and Hermione heading in different directions.
Just as she was about to turn the corner, the little witch glanced back, waved, and flashed him a radiant smile.
Qin Yu caught sight of Hermione's roommates, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, whispering and giggling. Hermione's cheeks turned pink in an instant. She mumbled something to her friends, then dashed off.
Watching the adorable little witch disappear around the corner, Qin Yu smacked his lips, gathered his thoughts, and headed off with Elvis and the rest to their second-year classroom.
Meanwhile, in the direction Hermione had gone, a magic professor with long hair, clad in black robes and wearing his usual frosty expression, stepped into the dungeon classroom.
——Dimensional Wall——
Happy Children's Day! (Let's just pretend this chapter was posted yesterday.)
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