After a full year of matches, Qin Yu's popularity on the Quidditch pitch had soared to impressive heights.
As he made his way past the stands, it was impossible not to overhear his name. Everywhere he went, students whispered in excitement—
"Did you see that double feint last time? Absolutely brilliant!"
"The moment the other team gets the Quaffle, it's a nightmare for them."
"Qin alone is worth an entire Golden Snitch!"
Other houses might not cheer for Qin Yu so openly, but as Hermione drew closer to the Gryffindor stands, she could feel his star power radiating stronger with every step.
It was, quite literally, a sea of banners and a crush of people...
Well, perhaps Miss Granger hadn't picked up such poetic phrases from a certain someone just yet.
In any case, the Gryffindor section was decked out with more than a dozen banners of all shapes and sizes, every one emblazoned with slogans about Qin. The largest banner spanned the width of ten students, and across it was the phrase that had stuck in Hermione's mind since the first time she'd seen it—
Qin is our king!
Cringeworthy or not, it was catchy—and undeniably grand.
At first glance, Hermione's eyes lit up with excitement, her heart skipping a beat.
—It was that rush you get when your favorite idol is recognized by everyone.
She was thrilled to see so many people supporting Qin. It meant she could cheer at the top of her lungs without worrying about sticking out—she definitely wouldn't be the only one!
"Qin is our king... Woohoo!" she muttered under her breath, her voice bubbling with excitement as she continued toward the stands.
After just a few steps, amidst this ocean of banners, Hermione spotted one that stood out for the opposite reason—it was humble, fashioned from what looked like an old bedsheet, and held up by just two students.
On it, a hand-drawn lion—Gryffindor's emblem—roared above the words:
Potter Will Win!
No surprise, the banner was hoisted by Harry's roommates, Seamus and Dean, with Neville, Ron, and Adam clustered nearby.
Compared to the surrounding banners, Harry's looked rather... well, pitiful.
Moved by a sense of "looking after Qin's little brothers," Hermione approached with a warm smile. She gave the banner a wave of her wand and cast a simple spell she'd long since mastered.
With a soft whoosh, the lion grew bolder and brighter, and the words "Potter Will Win" shimmered with magical light, instantly drawing the eye—even from far across the stands.
"Hermione, you're amazing!"
"You've brought Dean's lion to life!"
"Thanks to you, Harry will definitely see our banner now!"
"How'd you do that? I don't remember learning that spell!"
"Hermione, how can we get as good as you?"
A chorus of admiration and awe left Miss Granger floating on air.
It felt wonderful.
But then, glancing at all the massive banners for Qin, her soaring heart quickly returned to earth. She was reminded—quite soberly—that she still had a long way to go to catch up with someone. For now, she was just a little ahead of her classmates.
"It's just a simple charm—easy to pick up," Hermione said with a smile. "I can teach you when there's time, or you can ask Qin."
Most of her spells—including the "Dazzling Display Charm" she'd just used—had been taught by Qin. These were, after all, Qin's "little brothers," and he often gave them a tip or two in class. Teaching a few more minor spells would be a breeze.
Amid the excited chatter, Hermione squeezed in beside them and took a seat.
She gratefully accepted a monocular telescope from Adam—the stands were so far from the pitch that it was nearly impossible to see the Quidditch players on their broomsticks unaided.
"Thank you, Adam—uh..." Hermione's thanks trailed off as she noticed Adam pulling out a pair of binoculars for himself, clearly superior to the monocular she'd just received.
He caught her look and offered a gentle, unbothered smile.
After a moment, Hermione just shrugged. She'd long since stopped being surprised by Adam's quirks.
Well, Adam might always look a little sleep-deprived, but when it came to joining the fun, he was second to none. Why else would he bring two telescopes for a match? Most first-years, like Hermione, hadn't even thought to prepare one.
"Qin could've at least warned me," Hermione grumbled, raising her telescope to scan the pitch, eager to spot a certain someone making his entrance.
If Qin Yu had overheard, he'd probably protest his innocence. After all, he was always on the field, not in the stands—he had no experience to share about spectating. Even when watching other house matches, he'd just snatch the twins' telescope. So, being "unprepared" was never a problem for him.
...
As the stands filled with students and teachers from every house, the Quidditch players in the changing rooms were already suited up in their team colors.
Oliver Wood, this year's Gryffindor captain, was halfway between nerves and excitement as he launched into his pre-match pep talk.
"Same old speech—he's even more long-winded than Charlie ever was," Fred muttered to George.
"Yeah, but with Qin on our side, we're unstoppable!" George replied, shaking his head at Wood's lack of classic Gryffindor confidence.
"That's enough out of you two!" Wood snapped, then, after a deep breath, addressed the team seriously. "Even with Qin, we can't let our guard down. Slytherin might have some new tricks up their sleeve."
Wood had no intention of letting another house overtake Gryffindor on his watch—that would be far too humiliating.
...
Meanwhile, in the other changing room, the Slytherin team huddled as their captain, Marcus Flint, delivered his own brand of pep talk.
"Terence, you keep your eyes on Harry Potter. He's a rookie, barely knows which end of the broom is up. If he beats you to the Snitch, you know what'll happen!" Flint barked at Seeker Terence Higgs.
Terence snapped to attention, nervously nodding his understanding.
"And you two Beaters—if you get the chance, target those two new girls. Hit them hard, scare them, make them cry!" Flint ordered.
He was talking about Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet, both newcomers to the Gryffindor team.
"As for the Keeper, I won't say more. Let one Quaffle through and you'll answer to me!"
He turned to the two Chasers, voice dropping to a menacing growl. "We're the three Chasers—especially you, Derrick. If I see you screaming after getting hit by a Bludger again, I'll give you something to really scream about!"
Derrick Pucey shrank back, cowed by Flint's ferocity.
"Um... what about Qin? I mean, how do we deal with him..." one of the Beaters asked in a small voice.
...
...
...
The changing room fell into a heavy silence.
After a long pause, Marcus Flint finally spoke, his voice stiff and low. "If you run into him, just go all out. As long as I get the Quaffle, even if he breaks my nose with a Bludger, I'll still put the ball through the hoop!"
To rally his team, he raised a clenched fist for emphasis.
But the only response was silence. The players looked at their captain with a mixture of sympathy and resignation, as if already picturing his face battered beyond recognition by Qin.
"Let's go—enough talk!" Flint growled, yanking on his green robes and grabbing his broomstick as he led the team out to the pitch.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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