After classes let out that afternoon, Qin Yu made good on his promise and led Harry down to the Quidditch pitch for some real training.
Ron had insisted he wouldn't go—he was far too envious, and the idea of watching his friends fly while he was stuck on the sidelines didn't sit well with him. But in the end, he couldn't resist the pull of the pitch, and trotted along behind them anyway.
Surprisingly, Adam joined them as well. The quiet boy usually spent his free time napping in the dormitory, rarely showing interest in group activities. Today, though, he followed Ron and stood quietly at the edge of the field, watching everything unfold.
Hermione, meanwhile, had volunteered to tackle the massive task of organizing Qin Yu's first-year magic notes, and had disappeared into the library. Qin Yu could only feel a rush of gratitude and the urge to give her a huge hug. But proud Miss Granger, lips quirking in a barely hidden smile, clutched her books and hurried off before he got the chance.
He'd just have to find another way to thank her.
At the center of the Quidditch pitch, Qin Yu opened the battered leather trunk containing the different balls.
"As you all know, Quidditch is played with three types of balls: two Bludgers, one Quaffle, and the Golden Snitch," he explained, pointing each out as he spoke.
Luckily, Harry had already done his homework with Ron's help and some library research, so nothing Qin Yu said was completely new. Still, seeing the balls up close—and having Qin Yu explain with real objects—made everything click for him.
"…Depending on the ball, there are four positions: Beaters hit the Bludgers, Chasers score with the Quaffle, the Seeker hunts the Snitch, and the Keeper guards the goalposts," Qin Yu continued, breaking down the basics of offense, defense, and scoring.
"My position is Beater—same as George and Fred. Wood is our Keeper. You'll meet the rest of the team soon enough. As for you, since Charlie—Ron's brother—graduated, there's an opening for Seeker. On Professor McGonagall's recommendation, Wood wants you to give it a try. It's not an easy job, so you'll have to work hard!" Qin Yu finished, giving Harry an encouraging look.
Harry's cheeks flushed with excitement. "I won't let you down, I promise!"
"Good. Let's move on to some basic drills. There are a few flying maneuvers Madam Hooch didn't cover in class," Qin Yu said, nodding with satisfaction.
He spent the next while demonstrating flight techniques, then sent a few Bludgers Harry's way so he could get a feel for the real thing.
There was no denying it: Harry had a natural gift for flying. Even with Qin Yu taking it easy on him, Harry adapted to the pressure of aerial attacks with surprising speed. His evasions might have looked frantic and awkward, but for a first-timer, they were impressive.
"Whoo-hoo!" Harry whooped, pulling his broom into a steep climb and narrowly dodging a Bludger. The thrill was written all over his face.
"Brilliant, Harry!" Ron called from below, clapping with genuine excitement. He could see how quickly his friend was improving, and though it made him even more jealous, he was also proud.
Maybe, if he practiced enough, he'd have a shot at making the team one day too.
Adam clapped softly as well, though his gaze lingered on Qin Yu with a thoughtful, almost scrutinizing look. Not even Ron noticed—let alone anyone else.
Between the rule explanations and the flying drills, the sky gradually darkened. Before they knew it, their allotted training time was up.
Harry, still buzzing with adrenaline, immediately asked when they could train again.
"Probably the day after tomorrow. Wood will work with you on Seeker techniques then. There's no need to rush—good training takes time," Qin Yu replied.
With that, he led the three boys away from the pitch, their spirits high.
…
…
Later that evening, Hermione presented her work to Qin Yu with a reserved but confident smile. "I finished organizing your notes for Potions, Herbology, and History of Magic. I haven't done Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, or Transfiguration yet—there's a lot I'm not sure about, so you'll need to handle those yourself."
Qin Yu flipped through the neat stacks of parchment, noticing how his own earlier scribbles looked almost illegible next to Hermione's careful handwriting.
"These are fantastic—much better than mine!" he praised, genuine admiration in his voice.
"Thank you for saying so!" Hermione's smile widened, her heart fluttering like she'd just eaten a whole box of Honeydukes' best fudge.
"Here, a lollipop for your hard work!" Qin Yu grinned, pulling a candy from his pocket and handing it over.
He'd stopped by Hagrid's hut after practice to experiment with a few new recipes, and had grabbed a handful of sweets before heading to the library—knowing full well that his favorite little foodie would probably be hungry again.
Hermione beamed and immediately popped the lollipop into her mouth.
Qin Yu gently took her right hand—the one she used for writing—and cast a Cleaning Charm to remove the stubborn ink stains. Then, with practiced care, he massaged her tired fingers, easing the stiffness from hours of note-taking.
It was an Eastern massage technique, and Hermione had experienced it many times before. She melted into the sensation, happy as could be, savoring her candy while enjoying the attention of the handsome boy in front of her.
The fatigue from long hours of work faded away, replaced by a deep sense of comfort and satisfaction.
Maybe this was what Qin Yu meant when he said "labor creates value"?
She remembered how, back at home, he'd "tricked" her into doing chores the same way—always with a compliment for how smart and capable she was.
Oh dear, is it silly that I'm so willing to work just because he praises me?
But then again, housework made their home cozier, and organizing notes was a great way to study. It wasn't just for Qin Yu—it helped her too! Yes, she was doing it for herself as well.
As these thoughts drifted through her mind, Hermione found her gaze wandering to Qin Yu's eyes and lips, wishing the moment could last forever—or at least be etched into her memory for good.
The stern librarian, Madam Pince, swept past on her rounds. She spotted the pair—usually so prone to disturbing the peace—sitting quietly. They weren't reading, but they weren't making noise, either, so she had no grounds to intervene. With only a brief pause, she moved on, shelving a few returned books along the way.
Little did she know, the rest of the students had already been "disturbed" by the display of affection—everyone else had moved as far away as possible.
After all, too much sugar can make you sick, and too much sweetness can be just as overwhelming.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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