Meanwhile, inside Hagrid's cozy wooden hut, Qin Yu had already shed his wizard's robes and tied a wide black cloth around his waist—busy as a house-elf on Christmas Eve.
That black cloth? It was unmistakably one of Hagrid's oversized napkins, now splattered with flour and water, looking more like an abstract painting than a kitchen accessory.
Not that Hagrid cared. His attention was utterly fixed on the food Qin was preparing.
According to Qin, this dish was called "birthday noodles"—a special meal eaten on one's birthday in the East, carrying wishes of longevity and good fortune.
As someone who prided himself on his own culinary enthusiasm, Hagrid wasn't about to miss out on a chance to learn a new recipe. He sat behind Qin Yu, hands resting on his knees, eyes glued to every movement.
Qin Yu lifted the lid of a pot, checking on the chicken broth simmering inside, then returned to the counter and began working the dough.
"…In the little garden, dig and dig and dig, plant the little seeds, grow the little flowers… in the big garden…" he hummed softly, kneading and folding the dough. His hands moved through the flour as if tracing a spell, the rhythm of his song matching each gesture.
Hagrid couldn't understand the language, but the melody was bright and bouncy—definitely a children's song.
Still, his focus stayed on the food.
He watched as Qin Yu rolled out the dough into a not-so-perfectly-round sheet, then rolled it up and sliced it into thin noodles. The noodles went into a pot of boiling water—separate from the chicken broth, which Qin Yu had set aside.
"Five minutes should do it," Qin Yu murmured, eyeing the magical wall clock in Hagrid's hut.
So the two of them waited, side by side, for five minutes. Qin Yu added cold water to the boiling pot a few times and stirred the noodles now and then.
Five minutes—sometimes it flies, sometimes it crawls. It all depends on who's watching the clock. When Qin Yu finally called out, "Ready!" Hagrid instinctively glanced at his massive black-glazed bowl.
But instead of serving up the noodles, Qin Yu scooped them into a basin and doused them with cold water.
Hagrid looked a bit crestfallen, puzzled by this new step.
But Qin Yu just kept moving, unbothered by his audience's confusion. He reheated the chicken broth, let it bubble for another seven or eight minutes, then added a careful blend of seasonings. After tasting and nodding in satisfaction, he turned off the heat.
"Merlin's beard, this is starting to feel like Potions class—just when I thought those nightmares were behind me…" Hagrid muttered, half in awe at the complexity.
But his disappointment quickly vanished when he saw Qin Yu set out two bowls—one of them his beloved giant black bowl.
"Finally, time to eat…" Hagrid whispered, barely containing his excitement.
Sure enough, Qin Yu used a pair of long wooden chopsticks to fish the chilled noodles into the two bowls—one big, one small.
Then came the toppings: thinly sliced cucumber, carrot, golden strips of egg—bright greens, reds, yellows. The bowls looked like little rainbows.
Next, steaming chicken broth was ladled over the noodles. Instantly, the rich aroma of chicken and wheat mingled in the air, creating a scent so delicious it made Hagrid's stomach growl—loudly.
"Gulp!"
…
Three minutes later, Hagrid had devoured his noodles and slurped down the last drop of soup, leaving the bowl spotless.
"How was it?" Qin Yu set down his chopsticks, looking expectant.
He'd eaten half a bowl himself—though nowhere near Hagrid's speed.
Hagrid nodded enthusiastically. "Delicious! The noodles were soft and slippery, and the broth—so fresh! It's just… it's… well, just… delicious!"
He'd wanted to come up with more words, but "delicious" was all he could manage.
Qin Yu grinned. "Good. At least the ingredients didn't go to waste."
The real secret to these "birthday noodles" wasn't the noodles, but the chicken broth—especially the blend of herbs and mushrooms. It had cost him quite a few Galleons, and he'd recently asked Hagrid to help buy them from Diagon Alley.
With his knowledge of Eastern cuisine, plus a year of Herbology and Potions, Qin Yu had created a broth that was both innovative and subtly magical—though taste always came first.
Judging by Hagrid's reaction, he'd hit the mark.
"I'll tweak the ingredients a bit more next time—see if I can keep the broth's original freshness…" Qin Yu mused, already planning his next experiment.
"Anything in my kitchen's yours, just help yourself!" Hagrid declared, raising both hands in support.
He was more than happy to be a taste tester—especially for food this good.
There were still some noodles left in the basin. Hagrid didn't bother waiting for Qin Yu to serve him; he got up and used his fork to scoop them into his bowl.
"Don't worry about me—help yourself to the rest," Qin Yu said, seeing Hagrid's hesitation.
Hagrid grinned, scooping up every last noodle. He topped them with more veggies, even adding some onions for good measure, then poured in several generous ladles of broth. It was like giving the bowl its soul.
After a quick stir, Hagrid wound up a giant forkful of noodles and shoved them into his mouth.
Slurp! Slurp!
The little hut was soon filled with the noisy, happy sounds of Hagrid eating.
…
After dinner, Hermione headed for the library, notebook in hand.
She wanted to look up some references.
Classwork wasn't hard for her—she grasped it easily. But first-year courses barely scratched the surface of more complex topics. Teachers only gave a taste, never delving deeply—and even if they did, most students wouldn't understand.
But Hermione was never one to leave questions unanswered.
Luckily, the library's vast collection could usually satisfy her curiosity.
"…Even without that annoying Qin, I can understand these books just fine!" she muttered, stacking a pile of thick tomes on a reading table.
Her tone was laced with obvious annoyance, along with a hint of pride and stubbornness.
No time to waste. She took a deep breath, calmed herself, and opened one of her chosen books.
Ancient parchment, covered in words steeped in history, made her feel as if some wise old wizard was passing down knowledge across the centuries.
The thought filled her with a strange sense of awe and inspiration. Soon, she was completely absorbed, losing herself in the world of magical knowledge.
Time slipped by. Night fell, and the magical wall lamps glowed softly, bright but never harsh.
Students came and went—some settled in to read, some left with borrowed books, others wandered aimlessly. The library was alive with quiet activity.
Hermione noticed none of it. She kept reading, flipping through book after book, occasionally jotting notes in her notebook.
Until she came across a particularly tricky passage. She frowned, puzzling over it for ages but getting nowhere.
Almost without thinking, she pointed at the line and asked, "Qin, why does this potion use the same herb twice, but from different parts of the plant?"
"Let me see… Ah, that's simple. The roots and leaves have different properties, so you add them at different temperatures. That's what Professor Snape is always on about—'sequence' is one of the keys to successful potion-making," that familiar voice explained, calm and patient.
"Oh, so that's it… Wait, what?" Hermione blinked, suddenly realizing something was off. Qin—who hadn't been there a moment ago—was now sitting right beside her, book open, just as usual, answering her question as if he'd always been there.
"Hmph! When did you get here?" she asked, lips pursed in annoyance.
"Around when you turned to page eight," Qin Yu replied, nodding toward the Potions book in her hands, eyebrow raised.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"You looked completely absorbed, so I didn't want to interrupt."
"So what were you up to just now?" Hermione pressed, unable to hide her curiosity.
Qin Yu paused, then grinned. "Hmm—a secret!"
"You…" Hermione's eyes widened with indignation.
"Come on, focus on your reading, or Madam Pince will be after us again," Qin Yu cut in, using the librarian as a handy shield.
That left Hermione fuming.
Right on cue, Madam Pince happened to stroll past, casting a suspicious look their way.
Hermione had no choice but to drop her questions and bury herself in her book.
But beneath the table, her left foot shot out and gave Qin Yu a sharp kick.
"Qin, that guy is just impossible," she fumed inwardly.
Qin Yu, after receiving the harmless kick, just shrugged and went back to his own book.
After all, surprises just aren't as fun if you spoil them ahead of time. ~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
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