Two friends, reunited after so long—surely a hug that lasted a little longer than usual wasn't too much?
At least, that's what Qin Yu tried to reassure himself, though a twinge of guilt lingered.
After all, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were right there, watching.
Still, he really had held on a bit longer than strictly necessary.
But who could blame him? Hermione had hugged him so tightly he could practically feel her emotions radiating through her arms. Not knowing quite how to express his own feelings, he'd selfishly allowed himself a few extra seconds.
That "few seconds" may have stretched the bounds of what was normal.
But as long as nobody paid it any mind, it hardly mattered.
And, truthfully, the Grangers were too busy helping Qin Yu with his luggage to notice how long the hug lasted. He was probably just overthinking it.
Hermione wasted no time grabbing Qin Yu's hand and pulling him inside, her heart brimming with things she wanted to say.
The Grangers exchanged a glance, marveling at how quickly their daughter's mood could shift—from quiet and reserved to lively and animated in the blink of an eye.
Dinner that night was a feast, and Qin Yu ate until he was stuffed.
Afterwards, he and Hermione chatted in the living room. But as the clock neared ten, Mrs. Granger came by to gently remind them it was time for baths and bed.
Considering Qin Yu had just spent hours on a train, he probably needed the rest. Hermione, though reluctant, let him go upstairs to wash up and sleep.
…
Lying in the little attic bed, staring at the sloped ceiling and the familiar decorations, Qin Yu was struck by a sudden sense of unreality.
This was the room where he'd first woken up in this world. So much had happened since then. Now, somehow, he was back here again.
Life was funny that way—always drawing circles, always returning to the beginning.
He wondered, as he lay there, whether he'd truly lived through all those memories. It almost felt like a dream. Like something he'd read once: "Life is an illusion."
But even if it was, Qin Yu thought, it was a wonderful illusion.
He felt a sudden, almost childish urge to sneak downstairs, just to check if that little girl called Hermione was really there.
Fortunately, common sense prevailed.
With his mind swirling with random thoughts, impulses, and a bit of self-mockery, Qin Yu drifted into a light, muddled sleep.
He hadn't yet sunk into deep sleep when he heard the faintest footsteps approaching.
It was a side effect of his meditation training—even asleep, he was attuned to the world around him.
The footsteps crept closer, finally stopping beside his bed.
Qin Yu woke from his doze and opened his eyes—only to see the very girl he'd been tempted to check on.
"Qin, can't sleep either?" she whispered, excitement glinting in her eyes, though she tried not to speak too loud.
Who else could it be but Hermione?
…
He blinked, then smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I can't sleep either."
Hermione was crouched beside his bed, wearing pale blue pajamas, her hair in two simple braids, eyes shining in the dim light.
Qin Yu sat up, reached out to ruffle her hair, and said, "Come on up."
"Hehe!" She grinned and scrambled onto his bed, nestling beside him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Just like old times, they sat side by side.
Qin Yu tugged his blanket over to cover them both, making sure they were warm—winter nights could be chilly, even indoors.
He was about to switch on the lamp when Hermione grabbed his hand, whispering urgently, "Qin, don't turn on the light! Mum will notice. If she finds out I'm still awake, she'll definitely scold me. Plus, she told me not to bother you."
Right, two rules—and you've managed to break both, Qin Yu thought with a silent chuckle.
Seeing her so anxious, he let go of the lamp.
Then Hermione pointed at her head, a little smug. "I have this…"
She pressed a spot on her hair, and a gentle glow spread out, softly illuminating the room and pushing back the shadows. It made the space feel safe and cozy.
The source of the light? The owl-shaped hair clip Qin Yu had given her. He remembered buying it in Diagon Alley for ten silver Sickles.
"Does it look good?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.
"It's beautiful," Qin Yu replied, meeting her gaze with a smile.
…
This time it was Hermione who froze.
She realized instantly that the "beautiful" he meant wasn't just about the hair clip.
She stared at him, momentarily speechless, until her heart began to race and her cheeks grew hot. Flustered, she turned away with a little cough.
Only then did she notice that the hand she'd used to stop Qin Yu was now being gently held in his.
"Your hand's freezing," Qin Yu said quietly, sensing her urge to pull away. "Let me warm it up for you."
Hermione blinked, then, feeling the warmth of his palm, didn't resist.
"So… what should we talk about?" Qin Yu asked, breaking the silence.
"Um… I haven't thought of anything yet," Hermione admitted, caught off guard.
"Alright, let's see… How about I tell you the story of Professor Sprout's greenhouse and Professor Snape's potion storeroom?" Qin Yu suggested.
"Yes, please!" Hermione nodded eagerly.
From greenhouse to potions storeroom—it sounded like an adventure to her.
So Qin Yu began, recounting tales of Professor Sprout's magical plants, his misadventures in flying class, the wild experiments in charms, and the mysteries of Professor Snape's lessons.
"Herbology's actually a lot of fun, once you understand how the plants behave…"
"Flying class—the key is finding a comfortable posture. That's the only way to really enjoy it. Elvis hated flying at first, but he came around eventually…"
"In Charms, there's always someone trying out weird spells. Jimmy once tried to conjure juice, but what he made tasted more like vinegar than anything else…"
"Professor Snape—now there's a man I'll never figure out. We're pretty familiar now, but he still tries to trip me up in class. Good thing I do my homework, or Gryffindor would be in the negative for house points…"
"I've had terrible luck—lost loads of points… Go ahead, laugh if you want…"
"Professor Swinton in Defense Against the Dark Arts—he can't scare anyone now. Most students are used to the creepy images he shows in class. He's helped me a lot, though. He's a good teacher. I hope you get to meet him someday…"
"And then there's Transfiguration…"
Some of these stories he'd already written in letters, some he hadn't. But whether she'd read them or not, Hermione listened raptly. Hearing it from his lips was so much more vivid than the words on a page.
She peppered him with questions, eager for every detail. When something exciting happened, her eyes sparkled with longing to have been there herself; when something funny came up, she burst into giggles—then clapped a hand over her mouth, worried about waking her parents.
Time slipped by unnoticed. When one of Hermione's hands was warm, Qin Yu took the other, warming it too. Before long, both hands were toasty, and the night had grown deep.
When Hermione's eyelids finally began to droop, Qin Yu softened his voice.
Eventually, she rested her head on his shoulder, unwilling to open her eyes.
So Qin Yu stopped talking.
Silence settled over the room again.
But this time, it didn't feel unreal.
Because the real Hermione was right there, sleeping soundly against his shoulder.
At some point, Qin Yu drifted off as well, still sitting up.
…
The next morning, Qin Yu woke to find himself lying in bed.
Hermione was curled up against his chest, still asleep.
He must have toppled over in his sleep—after all, lying down was much more comfortable than sitting.
His movement must have disturbed her, because Hermione blinked awake, looking at him in confusion.
"Am I still dreaming?" she mumbled, reaching out to pinch his cheek.
Feeling the reality of it, she finally woke all the way, her eyes going wide with embarrassment.
She scrambled upright.
"Qin, good morning! I'm off!"
With that, she dashed out of the room and down the stairs, her footsteps pattering away.
…
At breakfast, Hermione sat at the table, eating with a calm composure that was almost suspicious.
Then Mr. Granger, with studied casualness, asked, "Qin, how did you sleep last night?"
"Pretty well—nothing beats that bed," Qin Yu replied.
"Glad to hear it. Still, even on holiday, it's important to keep up the habit of early to bed and early to rise." Mr. Granger gave his daughter a meaningful look.
Huh?
Dad, I'm sorry! Hermione almost blurted out.
Qin Yu was thinking the same thing.
Looking back, their late-night conversation probably wasn't as quiet as they'd thought. It wasn't surprising that Mr. Granger had heard them—after all, Qin Yu hadn't thought to cast a Muffliato or any other soundproofing charm.
Thankfully, Mr. Granger didn't press the issue. After a gentle reminder, he changed the subject.
Both Hermione and Qin Yu breathed silent sighs of relief.
After breakfast, the Grangers took Hermione and Qin Yu out shopping—to the same big department store where they'd bought Halloween supplies.
This time, they bought even more.
When they returned and decorated the house, the Christmas spirit filled every corner.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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