Qin Yu had now been in this world for over a year.
With time—and especially after entering Hogwarts—his magical abilities had only grown, and his mastery of spells, Transfiguration, Potions, and other core subjects far outstripped that of his so-called "peers." In fact, he excelled in every class, leaving little for the professors to correct.
But it didn't end there. Beyond the regular curriculum, Qin Yu received private lessons from Professor Snape and Professor Swenton. His combat skills had advanced by leaps and bounds—though, to be fair, Professor Snape never pulled his punches. Sometimes, he seemed downright intent on murder, especially when Qin Yu's mouth got the better of him and he couldn't help but tease the dour Potions Master.
Yet, despite surviving nearly a full school year under Snape's merciless tutelage, Qin Yu had also been "blessed" by Professor Swenton—or rather, received a precious gift: a magnificent alchemical longsword.
And what a sword it was. It could breathe fire, freeze solid, resist poison, turn invisible, shrink or grow, soften or harden at will… but most importantly, it could fly.
With this sword, Qin Yu had finally realized his dream of sword-flying.
Of course, as a weapon, its offensive power was second to none.
Armed with his blade, Qin Yu had leapt straight into the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets, where he'd deliberately provoked the Basilisk, running the "dungeon" several times over. Each battle further honed his skills, and, by exploiting a few loopholes in the Divine Choice System, he'd racked up a nice haul of rewards—though, after a few runs, the system had stopped counting his Basilisk victories.
Beyond all he'd gained through hard work and practice, Qin Yu also possessed several abilities granted by the system itself—like the Advanced Disillusionment Charm he'd received for Christmas.
Disillusionment was, in essence, a spell for concealment, transforming the caster or their target to deceive the senses. The advanced version, however, could achieve true invisibility.
It was thanks to this spell, combined with a few auxiliary charms, that Qin Yu had managed to appear—silent as a ghost—in that corridor, putting on a mysterious and awe-inspiring display for Draco Malfoy.
Truth be told, the operation had been a smashing success. Draco was left completely stunned. But it wasn't easy—maintaining advanced Disillusionment was a drain on his magical reserves, and dodging the wild spells that brat flung in his tantrum took no small amount of effort. After all, many of his own abilities were awkward to use while invisible.
Fortunately, his previous experience sparring with Snape—not to mention his reckless challenges against the Basilisk—meant he narrowly dodged every flying fireball or jet of water, never once giving away his position. He'd avoided the embarrassing fate of being unmasked and socially annihilated on the spot.
Looking back, what Qin Yu was most proud of was the idea to arrange those messages with the leaves.
"If only I were as brilliant as old Dumbledore," he thought with a wry smile. "But since I'm not, I had to get creative."
The inspiration, of course, came from Dumbledore's message transmission the previous night—only, where Dumbledore could conjure words out of thin air, Qin Yu had to settle for spelling them out with real leaves. The gap in skill was… considerable.
Still, the effect had been more than satisfactory. Qin Yu had achieved his goal, at least for now. The real test would be how little Draco behaved in the days to come. But there was no rush.
As he ate, lost in these thoughts, Qin Yu quickly finished his lunch.
Afterward, he helped Hermione clean her hands, then took her by the hand and led her back to the Gryffindor common room.
…
"Did you have any trouble with this morning's Charms lesson?" Qin Yu asked as they walked.
"Not really. What Professor Flitwick's teaching now is still pretty basic… But there was one part I didn't quite get. I asked him, and he said he'd cover it later, that it'd be confusing if I tried to understand it now." Hermione shrugged, a little helpless.
"So you still want to figure it out, huh?" Qin Yu grinned at her.
She nodded, tilting her head. "Exactly. Didn't you say we should never leave any question unanswered? That's your secret to learning, isn't it?"
"Alright. I'll explain it when we get back."
Seeing Hermione's earnest, adorable expression, Qin Yu couldn't help but smile. He squeezed her soft little hand, gently rubbing his thumb over it twice. Then, before she could protest in embarrassment, he gave her hand a tug and picked up the pace. "Time's short—let's hurry so I can teach you."
The girl could only trot alongside him, and whatever fluster she'd felt quickly melted away as they ran.
They spent the rest of lunch break studying together.
Honestly, tutoring Hermione was a joy. She was clever, quick to understand, and took her studies seriously. She grasped everything he taught and could even draw inferences on her own.
Best of all, she'd sometimes look up at him with that "So that's how it works!" expression, her eyes sparkling with admiration.
Who could possibly resist such a look from such a cute girl?
It was only thanks to the crowded common room that Hermione was spared any real "danger"—like her cheeks being pinched or her hair ruffled.
Noticing Qin Yu occasionally spacing out with a hint of regret, Hermione arched an eyebrow, more or less guessing what he was holding back. After all, she'd learned a thing or two about his habits during their summer together.
And, truth be told, she'd gotten a little used to them.
But now, with so many people around…
"There's just one last question…" Hermione checked the clock—lunch break was nearly over—then flipped to a page in her textbook, all seriousness.
"Yeah? What is it?" Qin Yu picked up his glass, took a sip, and asked.
"Here, look." Hermione pointed to a passage.
He leaned in, paused, and read aloud: "The key to casting this type of spell depends on the wand core material and then—"
He'd barely finished the first line when something soft brushed his cheek—a quick, feather-light kiss.
"Class is about to start. I'm going back to the dorm to grab my books for the afternoon."
Before Qin Yu could react, the triumphant girl had vanished.
Taken advantage of again—so mad I'm shaking!
That was all he could think.
…
…
"Is Malfoy alright? D'you reckon he accidentally took some of Snape's potion?" Ron whispered to Harry at the next desk.
They were in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Quirrell's stuttering monotone made it hard to stay focused.
"Huh? What's up with him?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Haven't you noticed? He's been grinning like an idiot all afternoon… Look, there he goes again! Isn't that creepy?" Ron pointed at Draco Malfoy across the room, his face a picture of mock horror.
—Someone who keeps smiling for no reason really does seem a bit off.
Harry glanced over and nodded. "You're right… He looked miserable this morning, but now he keeps smiling. I didn't notice before, but now that you mention it, it is kind of weird…"
"See? If he didn't drink the wrong potion, maybe his brain's gone soft…" Ron speculated maliciously.
He truly couldn't stand Malfoy—who wouldn't hate someone who constantly called you poor and made fun of you at every turn?
Harry snorted, trying to stifle a laugh.
"P-P-Potter, and W-Weasley, p-please maintain c-class discipline!" Professor Quirrell called out sternly.
"Sorry, Professor Quirrell!" "We're sorry, Professor!" they both replied, heads down.
"G-Good, now p-pay attention," Quirrell said, resuming his lecture with a lizard in hand.
When Harry and Ron looked up again, they caught Malfoy flashing them a smug, gloating grin.
The two boys glared right back, and for a moment, the three of them locked eyes—six-way crossfire, tension thick in the air.
Then Ron glanced sideways at Harry, tapped his own temple, and mouthed a word.
Harry instantly read his lips: "Idiot."
Meaning, clearly, that Malfoy's brain had gone soft, which explained the weird grins.
The two boys broke into silent, restrained smiles—careful not to make a sound, lest Quirrell single them out again.
On Malfoy's side, seeing the two laughing, he didn't know what they were on about, but it irritated him all the same.
He snorted, muttering darkly to himself, "Just you wait. Once I'm strong, I'll make you both pay."
But as he thought of the mysterious message he'd received, Malfoy's mood lifted, and a smile crept back onto his face.
That smile would appear many more times that afternoon.
Because, for the first time in ages, he was filled with hope—and endless dreams—about the future.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
🤔 Want to know what happens next to the characters?
🤫 Eager to explore the untold secrets of this world?
✍️ Ready to read more of my wildest stories?
✨patreon.com/GoldenLong