"Professor, today I finally managed to mock Harry Potter right in front of Qin! I didn't let you down!" Under the cold, silvery moonlight, Draco Malfoy reported his "victory" to his mysterious mentor, excitement barely contained in his voice.
At some point, Qin Yu had simply stopped correcting Malfoy for calling him "Professor." After all, everyone needed a title to address each other by. If "Professor" worked, so be it.
He had, however, made one thing clear: "If you ever get yourself into trouble, don't you dare mention your master's name."
Of course, Qin Yu had never told Malfoy what that name actually was. He certainly wasn't about to say something as melodramatic as "The Fool Who Does Not Belong to This Era." Pretentiousness aside, he'd rather not risk some unspeakable cosmic entity crossing dimensions to come looking for him.
Hidden behind an alchemical mask and a black cloak, Qin Yu couldn't help but roll his eyes at Malfoy's self-satisfied report.
Still, his voice was as cold and distant as ever. "Oh? And what exactly did you do?"
"I…" Malfoy started to describe the morning's events, but hesitated, suddenly unsure.
"What's wrong? Are you making this up? Just boasting for my approval?" Qin Yu's tone sharpened, his presence growing more severe.
"N-no, I really did mock Potter to his face, it's just…" Malfoy stammered, torn between the fear of angering his professor and the dread of telling the whole truth.
"Just what?" Qin Yu leaned in, the mask's shadow looming over him, pressing for an answer.
"I—I…" Malfoy faltered for a long moment, then finally screwed his eyes shut and blurted, "I mocked him for not having a home to go back to for Christmas!"
Not exactly the most dignified reason.
When he finished, silence fell. Only the whistling wind broke the stillness, brushing past their ears.
The oppressive quiet made Malfoy's heart pound in his chest. Was his professor even angrier now?
After what felt like forever, he finally forced himself to crack open one eye, bracing for a reaction.
He was met with the cold, expressionless dark-gold mask, its owner still bent slightly forward, as if scrutinizing his cowardice and unease.
A wave of shame swept through Malfoy, reaching its peak as he heard a single, contemptuous "Tch." His cheeks burned crimson.
"Why are you blushing? Weren't you just so proud of yourself?" Qin Yu straightened, his tone now tinged with amusement.
"I… I… I was wrong," Malfoy stuttered at last, bowing his head in embarrassment.
"Oh? And what exactly was your mistake?" Qin Yu asked, as if genuinely curious.
What was my mistake? Malfoy found himself at a loss.
He'd wanted to confront Harry Potter in front of Qin, to prove he wasn't a coward, and to put that show-off Potter in his place after the Quidditch match. But now, what should have been satisfying just felt… shameful.
"Because… because I shouldn't have mocked him for not being able to go home?" Malfoy ventured, voice barely above a whisper.
It was the only thing he could think of. Maybe his professor was the "righteous" sort who disapproved of mocking others.
Deep down, he knew he hadn't been entirely right, either.
But what else could he do? In a fight, he could maybe go toe-to-toe with Harry Potter, but with Qin? No chance. All he had left was to mock Potter's lack of a home.
Not exactly honorable. Maybe that was why his professor was angry.
"That's all you can come up with?" Qin Yu's tone was unreadable.
"What… else?" Malfoy wracked his brain, but came up empty.
"Rotten wood, the lot of you…"
Qin Yu sighed, drew his wand, and murmured a spell, flicking it above Malfoy's head. Malfoy froze, certain his time had come.
But the spell wasn't aimed at him.
With a sharp "crack," a dead oak branch snapped overhead and fell, landing squarely on Malfoy's head.
"Ow!"
Malfoy clutched his head, looking up at his professor with wounded eyes.
"Want to know what you really did wrong?" Qin Yu asked.
"Yes, please, tell me! I promise I'll change!" Malfoy nodded frantically.
Now was not the time for excuses. He'd seen firsthand how powerful this mysterious teacher was—a branch today, but next time it could be a boulder. He didn't fancy his odds.
"You mocked his birth and his family—things he never chose. But what you're truly jealous and angry about—well, you know that better than anyone, don't you, my dear Master Malfoy?" Qin Yu's voice was laced with unmistakable irony.
Malfoy's face turned red, then white, the colors shifting even in the moonlight.
He'd never heard of the Eastern dish "cardamom pork heart," but the sensation of having his innermost thoughts laid bare was much the same.
His professor was right. What he really envied was Harry Potter always stealing the spotlight. He'd have given anything to knock Potter off his broom during the Quidditch match. And he was jealous of Qin, too—Qin always seemed to protect Harry Potter.
Why? Why did everything good go to Harry Potter? Why was it never Draco Malfoy's turn?
Even now, with a powerful professor of his own, he could only meet him once a week—and couldn't brag about it. Not being able to show off was the worst part.
All that resentment had built up, and when he finally found an outlet, he'd let it explode in the most childish way possible.
"Professor, I know what I really did wrong. I shouldn't get carried away over something so petty—there's nothing to be proud of in that," Malfoy said, bowing his head in genuine contrition.
At least he was being honest.
"At least you're not completely hopeless," Qin Yu remarked. "Like I've told you before, I want you to reclaim your own glory—with real strength."
"I will. I promise I will!" Malfoy said, eyes blazing, fists clenched tight.
Qin Yu nodded and added, "When you go home for Christmas, don't slack off with your magic studies. And remember—never mention me to anyone, not even your parents."
"Understood! I'll do exactly as you say!" Malfoy replied with earnest seriousness.
Qin Yu nodded once more, thinking that if his weekly hour with Malfoy yielded even a halfway decent result someday, he'd consider it time well spent.
…
The next morning.
The young witches and wizards heading home for Christmas had packed their trunks early and gathered at Hogsmeade Station in chattering clusters, waiting to board the Hogwarts Express.
Qin Yu didn't have much luggage, but Hermione had brought a massive trunk.
Clearly, with Qin Yu to help, the girl had packed her suitcase to the brim.
"What on earth is in here?" Qin Yu grunted, struggling to lift the case.
Hermione replied that it was full of Hogsmeade specialties for her parents.
Such filial devotion—what could Qin Yu say?
Luckily, they ran into Hagrid along the way. He wasn't busy that morning, so he helped them carry their luggage to the station.
"It's a real shame you won't be spending Christmas here again this year," Hagrid sighed, unable to hide his disappointment.
For all his size, the gentle giant's feelings ran deep—especially for those he cared about.
Qin Yu clasped Hagrid's thumb—he could barely manage one finger—and said, with real regret and apology, "Sorry, Hagrid. Give it a couple more years—once Mr. and Mrs. Granger are more comfortable with Hermione being away, we'll stay at Hogwarts for Christmas."
"Yes, Hagrid, I'm really looking forward to spending Christmas at school, too. But my parents think I'm still too young—they want me home for the holidays," Hermione added, before muttering under her breath, "I think I'm plenty grown up already…"
Mention of parents left Hagrid looking a little wistful. He cast a fond, envious glance at Hermione, but quickly recovered, patting them both and talking cheerfully about the day they'd all spend Christmas together.
After saying goodbye to Hagrid, Qin Yu and Hermione boarded the train just as it was about to depart.
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