After leaving little Crookshanks in Hagrid's care, Qin Yu and Hermione both felt a weight lifted from their shoulders.
On their way back, they passed beneath the grand old oak tree once more. The two "w"s spelled out by acorns had vanished—cleared away, leaving only a scatter of fallen leaves.
"That squirrel's quite the hard worker," Qin Yu remarked with genuine admiration.
"Good thing we didn't frighten it off," Hermione replied, a soft smile on her lips. "It would've been such a shame if it'd just abandoned all those acorns."
"Probably just can't afford to waste so much food. Life's not easy for anyone," Qin Yu said, a touch of melancholy in his voice.
As he spoke, a wave of emotion washed over him.
He thought of his past life—working late "voluntary" overtime for a meager salary, phone always on, even on weekends, always on call.
Wouldn't it be better not to get caught up in the rat race? No overtime, no work calls on weekends—who wouldn't want that?
But it wasn't about what he wanted. Life simply didn't give him a choice.
Animals or people, everyone has things they'd rather not do but have no choice but to face.
Those raised in greenhouses need to weather some storms before they can truly understand how hard life can be—and how some things simply aren't handed to you for nothing.
These thoughts drifted through Qin Yu's mind as he glanced again at the patch of grass, now mostly recovered, where someone had clearly sat for a long time. He felt a little less guilty about it.
"Come on, it's nearly lunchtime," he called to Hermione.
She was just picking up a freshly fallen acorn, holding it up to the sunlight with a satisfied smile before tucking it into her robe pocket. In high spirits, she walked back toward the castle with Qin Yu.
…
Back at the hut earlier, the reason Qin Yu had brought up "taming eagles" with Hagrid was because his thoughts had turned to Draco Malfoy.
There was no denying it—Draco Malfoy was a spoiled brat.
Knowing that, how could he just let the boy stumble into some so-called "miraculous encounter"? That would only make Malfoy even more insufferable.
As he'd said before, Qin Yu had no intention of turning Draco and Harry into best mates. He certainly wasn't going to play matchmaker and force a reconciliation.
He just wanted Draco to pull himself together, to keep him from crumbling under outside pressure—most of which, honestly, came from Qin Yu himself.
When he thought about it, it was less like taming an eagle and more like raising a child—afraid of spoiling them into uselessness, but also afraid of crushing their spirit with too much pressure.
Parenting really wasn't easy.
"Merlin's beard, with all the worrying I do, Lucius ought to pay me a nanny's wage—or at least a tutor's fee," Qin Yu couldn't help but grumble silently.
…
Meanwhile, deep in the Slytherin common room, in a first-year boys' dormitory, Crabbe and Goyle were excitedly chatting about the upcoming lunch.
The more they talked, the more they salivated.
"Draco, want to come with us?" Goyle asked cautiously, glancing at the blond boy sprawled on his bed.
Malfoy didn't answer. He just turned his head and shot them a glare so cold and fierce it could have cast a pair of Avada Kedavra curses.
Feeling the weight of that look, both Crabbe and Goyle shrank back, swallowing hard.
Awkward grins plastered on their faces, they slowly retreated under his gaze. As soon as they reached the door, they turned and bolted, not daring to linger a second longer.
Only when their frantic footsteps had faded did the coldness and anger in Malfoy's eyes dissolve, replaced by emptiness and confusion. He looked utterly drained, as if he couldn't summon the will to do anything at all.
"Why… why…" he mumbled to himself, over and over.
Eventually, exhaustion from a sleepless night overcame him. He drifted off right there on his bed, slipping into a restless sleep.
Who knows how long passed. By the time Crabbe and Goyle returned, arms full of muffins and croissants, they found their "boss" fast asleep, a faint smile on his lips—lost in what must have been a beautiful dream.
…
Saturday and Sunday slipped by in the blink of an eye.
Monday arrived, and with it, a brand new week of classes.
In History of Magic, the ghostly Professor Binns floated above the class, his monotone droning through another tale of ancient wizarding history.
Well, not just ghostly—he was an actual ghost.
Harry found the professor himself far more interesting than anything he actually taught.
He struggled to keep his eyes open, fighting the relentless tide of boredom that threatened to pull him under.
When he glanced around the classroom, it was no surprise: Hermione was the only one still laser-focused on the lesson.
At that very moment, she was even raising her hand to answer a question—a question that left Harry Potter completely baffled.
Everyone else was fighting the same losing battle against sleep. Some, like Ron, had already given in and nodded off.
"Wait, there's one more person who's wide awake… though, not in a normal way," Harry amended mentally, eyes drifting to Malfoy.
Malfoy had been acting strangely lately. Gone was the goofy grinning from last Friday; now he radiated a kind of restless agitation.
At that moment, he was clenching and unclenching his fists, staring intently at the floating Professor Binns.
But Harry knew he wasn't actually paying attention—his eyes were unfocused, fixed somewhere far beyond the ghostly professor.
Anxiety. Restlessness. Longing. Disappointment. Confusion… The mix of emotions in Malfoy's eyes was almost dizzying.
Given how volatile his mood had been lately—even Crabbe and Goyle were giving him a wide berth—Harry figured Ron might have been right: maybe Malfoy's brain really had short-circuited.
At least watching him was entertaining enough to keep Harry Potter awake through the entire class—making him the third "alert" student that period.
"All right, that's the end of class. Off you go to dinner," Professor Binns intoned, then drifted through the blackboard and out of sight.
The students barely blinked. They were used to it by now.
With the professor gone, most faces brightened, relieved to be finished with the afternoon's lessons. Small groups formed, chatting about their plans until curfew.
"Ron, wake up! Wake up!" Harry nudged his still-sleeping friend.
"Mm—Harry, is it morning already?" Ron mumbled, stretching and rubbing his eyes.
Laughter erupted all around them.
Harry just rolled his eyes. He was used to Ron's antics by now—there was no point in pretending they weren't friends. Everyone knew they were inseparable.
"Come on, class is over. Let's go," Harry said, hurriedly packing up his things.
He glanced over at Malfoy, half-expecting a sneering comment about Ron making a fool of himself.
Instead, Malfoy only shot them a look of weary annoyance before stalking out of the classroom without a word.
"What's up with him? Who's gotten on his bad side now?" Ron asked, following Harry's gaze in confusion.
"Who knows…" Harry almost said Malfoy's brain really was broken, but then remembered Qin's advice—not to waste energy worrying about others. Taking care of your own business was what mattered.
I only watched him to keep myself awake, anyway, Harry told himself.
The two packed up and headed off together for dinner in the Great Hall.
…
"Elvis, has Qin come yet?" Hermione asked, craning her neck to peer behind Elvis for any sign of her familiar friend.
Elvis had just wandered over, quietly muttering about some herb's growing habits. He blinked, then remembered: "Sorry, Hermione—I almost forgot. Qin asked me to tell you he had something to do with Hagrid. He'll find you after dinner."
Went to see Hagrid? What for? Hermione wondered.
"Oh, all right," she replied with a shrug, her tone calm and even.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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