"...You can't even imagine how dangerous it was! If I hadn't shown up, Harry Potter and that Weasley boy would've been squashed flat by the troll... I charged forward, took a flying leap, and landed right on the troll's head...
At the crucial moment, the Weasley boy was completely petrified—though honestly, he's never been the brightest. If it weren't for my reminder, he'd have just stood there gaping. Only then did he manage a half-decent Levitation Charm...
Honestly, Professor McGonagall should've given me ten points, not just five like the others, because I was worth both of them put together!"
It was Friday night, just past midnight. Beneath the ancient oak outside the castle, Malfoy was in full dramatic mode, recounting the events of that fateful night with wild gestures. In the moonlight, his pale face was flushed with excitement.
He looked, for all the world, like a heroic wizard fresh from a grand adventure.
How embarrassing... Qin Yu couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
If he hadn't known the truth—hadn't seen the kid's terrified, ashen face and trembling hands that night—Qin Yu might actually have believed a word or two.
But he was one of the few who knew exactly what happened. Still, he couldn't let on.
So, behind his mask, Qin Yu simply endured, watching Malfoy pour out a jumble of fear and excitement—perhaps both. For kids their age, that night had been a little too thrilling.
At last, Qin Yu forced himself to reply in his coldest, most indifferent voice, "Hmm. It seems my recent guidance hasn't gone to waste."
Hearing such rare praise from his mysterious "mentor," Malfoy beamed, showing off two rows of perfect, white teeth. Gone was the usual aristocratic sneer—he looked more like a delighted, slightly foolish farm boy.
Then, with surprising solemnity, he bowed to Qin Yu. "Thank you, sir! Meeting you and learning under you has been the luckiest thing since I arrived at Hogwarts!"
Well, if nothing else, the boy did know how to respect his elders.
Hearing the sincerity in those words, Qin Yu felt a faint twinge of emotion. It wasn't guilt—he didn't feel like he was tricking a child—but there was something admirable about the kid, after all.
He almost reached up to scratch his nose, but stopped himself at the last second. Not very mysterious, that.
"Enough. That's in the past. Time for tonight's practice. Next time, I want you to be the one to take down a troll with magic."
Qin Yu drew a firm line under the topic—if he let the kid keep going, he'd be listening to this story all night.
"Yes, sir! I'll get started right away!" Malfoy seemed to realize he'd been rambling and hurried to begin his practice.
He started running through the spells he'd recently learned, wand slicing through the air beneath the oak.
Qin Yu nodded from time to time, but in truth, his mind had wandered far away, lost in his own concerns.
The Halloween incident—important or not—was over. It was time to focus elsewhere.
Just days ago, he'd managed to use meditative resonance to make his alchemical longsword vibrate in sympathy with Snape's sword.
But distance was a problem.
At his current level, Snape's sword would go silent if it was more than three meters away. To reach Swinton's sword was a fantasy—he was worlds away.
Honestly, what was Professor Swinton thinking, running off so far at his age? Some sort of "the world is so big, I want to see it" midlife crisis?
...
While he grumbled about his "second brother" in his head, Qin Yu kept a watchful eye on Malfoy, who was practicing his spellwork with a rare determination—perhaps spurred by the recent adventure, or simply encouraged by not failing outright.
As the saying goes: a master leads you to the door, but practice is up to you.
That was doubly true for magic.
Qin Yu could offer guidance at key moments, but to truly master spells—to make them second nature—required endless, repetitive, and sometimes mind-numbing practice.
Tonight, at least, Malfoy was putting in the effort.
"Lower your elbow by another inch—your motions will flow better. Focus your gaze about six feet in front of your wand, not at the tip. Move as soon as you form the thought—don't hesitate, don't let your mind lag behind your actions..."
Qin Yu rattled off a dozen corrections, leaving the previously smug, chin-high show-off properly humbled.
He didn't care about encouragement or "growth mindset" or any other trendy teaching style. If the kid couldn't handle honest feedback, he was hopeless—and Qin Yu wouldn't waste another hour on him.
Once he'd finished, Malfoy immediately adjusted his stance as instructed.
Elbow down, eyes ahead, no hesitation—move first, think later...
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The wand's arc finished almost in perfect sync with the incantation.
A dead twig on the ground in front of Malfoy rose slowly and steadily into the air.
The first-year Slytherin broke into a genuine smile, looking at Qin Yu with gratitude.
"Not bad," Qin Yu drawled, sounding bored.
But that simple praise made Malfoy positively giddy. He thanked him over and over.
"Thank you, sir! With your guidance, not only are my spells smoother, but even my movements look more elegant!"
"If you can say that, it means you're paying attention," Qin Yu nodded behind his mask.
"You mean... the part about looking more elegant?" Malfoy asked, puzzled. He hadn't thought there was anything special about that offhand comment.
"Exactly. Merlin once said, 'If your spellcasting movements aren't elegant, you definitely haven't mastered the spell.'" Qin Yu declared, utterly serious.
"I see..." Malfoy murmured, eyes wide. "No wonder he's Merlin—so wise!"
As for whether Merlin ever actually said that—well, Qin Yu was pretty sure the old wizard, who could barely keep track of his own beard and trousers, didn't care how many apocryphal quotes people attributed to his name.
"That's enough for tonight."
With that, Qin Yu cast a spell and vanished on the spot.
Malfoy stood in awe for a moment, gazing at the place where his mysterious teacher had disappeared, then tiptoed back to the Slytherin dungeons and burrowed into bed, excitement still buzzing in his veins.
...
Time slipped by—calm, steady, and quietly fulfilling.
At some point, the air had grown cold enough that you could see your breath, and the students of Hogwarts had all bundled up in thick robes and scarves in their house colors.
Hermione's small hands were often icy now, and it took a good while for Qin Yu to warm them up.
"What am I supposed to do when you're not around?" the girl fretted.
So, putting her cleverness to work, and with Qin Yu's help, she used a newly learned spell to seal a flickering blue flame in a glass jar.
In this way, she captured a little warmth—enough to last until Qin Yu could hold her hands again.
All in all, Hermione had little fear of the approaching Hogwarts winter.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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