Hermione didn't dare leave the bookstore to search for the "missing" Qin Yu—they'd made a promise: if they got separated, wait at the entrance of Flourish and Blotts. Until she figured out why he'd vanished, her best move was to stay put.
"If you get on the wrong tram, you'll only end up farther from your destination. Sometimes, it's better to stay where you are."
That was something Qin Yu had once told her, a gentle warning not to board the wrong tram by mistake and wind up hopelessly lost.
It felt just as true now—if she ran off looking for him, she might miss him coming back, and then she'd be the one who was lost.
Qin Yu's words always struck her as so wise.
But how could someone so clever just disappear?
The little witch frowned, worry knitting her brow.
Had he really been lured away by some other girl—one of those sly, cute-acting types?
The thought popped into her head, unbidden.
No, don't think like that! Maybe he was snatched by a ghost, or a troll, or a hag. He'd just mentioned those three monsters, after all.
Thinking along those lines… well, it made her worry less.
Yeah, right.
Unwilling to give up, Hermione searched both floors of the shop again, but came up empty.
She plopped back into her seat. There was no way she could focus on reading now.
With her best friend (or… something more?) gone, what was the point of reading about magic?
Rationally, she knew the odds of Qin Yu running into real danger were slim. Diagon Alley was orderly, not some seedy black market.
But she couldn't help imagining the worst. Why hadn't he at least left her a note if he had to go somewhere?
As the saying goes: you don't fear a thousand dangers, just that one disaster.
And in the wizarding world, when things went wrong, they could go very wrong.
The more she thought, the more anxious she became. Studying was the last thing on her mind.
Only now did she realize—maybe learning wasn't actually the most important thing in her life.
"That guy… goes to buy juice and manages to lose himself…"
Hermione couldn't help grumbling. When he came back, she'd make sure he understood just how serious this was!
But then again, as long as he came back safe, that was what really mattered. Maybe there was a good reason, and she should try to be understanding.
In that moment, Miss Granger felt a kinship with every mother who's ever lost track of a mischievous child in a crowd—their hearts were one and the same.
Let's face it: some little witches, for all their youth, already had a mother's instincts.
…
"Excuse me, have you seen a boy—black hair, black eyes, he might have come by for juice earlier?"
Once she'd calmed down, Hermione realized she could just ask the bookstore staff.
The woman behind the drinks counter perked up immediately. "You mean that very handsome boy?"
"Yes, yes, that's him!" Hermione's eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly.
She realized "handsome" wasn't exactly a unique identifier, but hope flared in her chest all the same.
The clerk's next words erased any doubt. "He's about this tall, blue wool coat, always smiling when he talks?"
"That's him, exactly!" Now Hermione was certain.
The clerk's fond tone for the "handsome Eastern boy" made Hermione just a tiny bit jealous—but that only proved she'd found the right person.
"Did you see where he went?" she pressed.
"I did. He paid for two Multi-Flavor Juices, but then he asked me where to find newspapers. I told him to check the periodicals section in the east wing—over there." The clerk pointed.
Hermione glanced that way but didn't go over immediately. She'd already searched there; Qin Yu clearly wasn't there now.
"And then?" she asked patiently.
"Well, after a few minutes, I saw him hurry out the front door," the clerk said, frowning in recollection. "I'd already finished making the juices, so I called after him, but he didn't answer—looked like he was in a rush."
She gestured to two untouched drinks on the counter—amber and orange, glowing temptingly.
"Thank you so much!" Hermione said, then made her way to the periodicals area.
There, she described "a handsome Eastern boy with black hair and black eyes" to another clerk, who immediately remembered.
"Oh, yes—he wanted a newspaper, something specific. But the story he wanted was only in The Wizard's Voice, and we'd just sold our last copy. He didn't get one."
"What happened after that? Did he say anything else?" Hermione pressed.
She knew Qin Yu well enough—he wouldn't give up easily.
Sure enough, the clerk nodded. "He asked if we had any extra copies in the back, or if we'd get more in. I told him that paper was sold out, and we weren't expecting more."
"Did he ask if anywhere else in Diagon Alley sells newspapers?" Hermione asked, unable to hide a hint of pride in her voice.
The clerk looked surprised. "How did you know he'd ask that? You're clever!"
Because I know him that well—I've even counted his eyelashes, Hermione thought, keeping her face composed.
"Thank you! So he did ask?"
"Yes, he did!" the clerk confirmed.
"What did you tell him?" Hermione pressed, sensing this was the key clue.
"Nowhere else sells them, of course!" the clerk said, a touch smug. "Flourish and Blotts is the only real bookstore in Diagon Alley. Where else would you go for books or periodicals?"
"…So that's a dead end."
"Did he say where he was going next? Another clerk said she saw him leave through the front door. Do you know where he went?" Hermione asked, still hoping for a lead.
The clerk shook her head. "No, he just left. Didn't say a word."
Well, that was as much as she could find out. Hermione thanked her, shoulders drooping a bit.
"Sorry, dear, I couldn't help more," the clerk said, noticing her disappointment.
"It's fine. Thank you again—I'll try asking somewhere else."
Hermione returned to the drinks counter, having exhausted every lead. She knew roughly what had happened: Qin Yu had wanted to read a particular news story, but the only paper that carried it was sold out, so he'd rushed off to look for another way to find it.
But knowing that didn't help—she had no idea where he'd gone, or how he planned to track down the paper.
She also wondered: what was in The Wizard's Voice that made Qin Yu so anxious, he didn't even leave her a note?
"Um, young lady…" The voice of the drinks clerk broke her thoughts.
"Me?" Hermione turned, a little dazed.
"Would you like to take these two juices for your friend? I assume you're together?" The clerk pointed to the pretty drinks on the counter.
"Yes, we are. I'll take them, thank you."
"Of course!"
So it was that, for much of the afternoon, passersby in Diagon Alley saw a brown-haired girl sitting on the steps outside Flourish and Blotts. Two colorful juices sat beside her.
Most of the time, she rested her chin in her hands, eyes scanning the crowds with a troubled look, as if searching for someone.
Now and then, she'd pick up a juice—switching between the two, keeping the levels even.
The juice tasted just as good as before. But somehow, it wasn't quite the same.
So she sat, and waited, and thought.
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