Chillin' with Cho is honestly kinda dope.
After scarfing lunch, her ride-or-die Marietta bailed with some lame excuse.
Lynn tagged along to the hospital wing; Madam Pomfrey hooked Cho up with a pep-up potion.
"Gross?"
Lynn clocked the weird face she was making.
"Not gross, just… funky."
"Oh, minty fresh?"
Her breath hit him—straight mountain-mint vibes.
"Yeah, that's why it's off. Like they swapped the recipe."
"Got a little stank to it?" Cho cupped her hand, huffed, and shoved it under Lynn's nose.
"Maybe morning breath?" He squinted, skeptical.
"You're the one with dragon breath, asshole!"
"Girls gotta stay classy—no random punches, cool?"
"You beg for it with that mouth."
She chased him down and thumped his back—bam bam—not hard, just loud.
"Oof—you just cracked my gene lock."
"Didn't even hit you, drama queen." Cho crossed her arms, bouncing ahead.
"You've changed, Cho. You were all sweet when we met—ohhh, I get it."
"Get what?"
"Girl stuff. That time of the month, huh? Mood swings on fleek."
Cho puffed her cheeks, turned away, mumbling, "Even if you're right, don't blab."
"I feel you." Lynn went full bullshit mode. "Guys get cranky too."
"Huh?" Cho blinked, lost.
"Every month we got egg-swap days. Super sensitive, tummy aches like someone's shanking your guts with scissors. Fix? Two boiled eggs in the morning. But the elves skipped 'em today."
Cho bought it hard—face all soft and worried. "You okay…?"
"Nah, I'm pure yang energy. Built different. Poison-proof."
He thumped his chest, barely holding in the laugh.
"…Sorry about earlier?"
"Too formal. But you good? No cramps?"
"Kinda uncomfortable."
They hit Ravenclaw Tower. Cho stared up the spiral hell-staircase and deflated. "Suddenly don't wanna go back…"
Ravenclaws' dorms? West tower, higher than Gryffindor's eighth-floor common room—same level as the Astronomy Tower. Eleventh, twelfth floor vibes.
Graduation memory #1: stairs. No shortcuts, no magic elevators. Pure torture.
"Why'd we even come here? Library beats this…"
"Didn't think—haha…"
Lynn scratched his head, awkward.
"Or…"
"Tent!"
Eyes locked. Instant vibe check.
"This way—garden spot."
Cho grabbed his hand, yanked him to a cute open courtyard. Hogwarts has like ten of these mini-gardens; dusk? Couple central (weather permitting).
Lynn whipped out the magic tent, plopped it down. They crawled in—camo mode on, interior flipped to lounge vibes.
"Hot spring! Now!"
Cho lit up.
"You sure? Cramps + water = ?"
"Adapt-o-lamp, duh. Clothes stay dry."
"Fair. But swimsuits are in the pool room; hot spring's bathroom-adjacent."
"Lame~"
Cho pouted.
"Chill, I won't peek. You soak, I'll crash. Gotta recharge or Quirrell's class gonna murder me."
"What's your afternoon?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts." Lynn looked dead inside. "Quirrell's a walking biohazard. Already garlic-phobic."
"That bad?" (Cho's class was Friday.)
"Upperclassmen roast him. You'll see."
Lynn zapped her with the lamp, flopped on the tatami rest spot—pillows galore.
Water sploosh behind him. Lynn didn't eavesdrop. Full belly + warm vibes = out cold.
Dream sequence: Hogwarts, tiny orange kitten lost its mom. Lynn adopts, becomes official poop-scooper. Kitten's a greedy lil' chunk—ten oranges, nine fat, one collapses the bed. Turns into a full-on orange pig. Loves napping on Lynn's chest. Breathing crushed, so real…
Real enough that when Lynn woke gasping, a human orange-pig was drooling on his pecs.
Cho, curled in a thin sweater, snoring like a baby.
"Guess this evens the knee-pillow debt."
Couldn't sleep. Lynn mind-controlled the room switch—bath → lounge. Tatami → fluffy rug. Tucked a blanket over her, cracked a book, statue-still.
Hour later, Cho stirred, face scrunched.
"My tummy…"
She looked up, pitiful—first time ever.
"Next time I'll pack brown-sugar water. Today? Wingin' it."
"Rub it?"
"Pervert alert."
Cho's cheeks pinked, sitting up slow, lips pouty-max.
"Swear on Merlin, if I was a perv, I'd have peeped the hot spring and gotten lightning-blasted."
She cracked a grin, but cramps hit—face crumpled again.
"Gimme your hand."
She did. His warm grip lit her up.
"All guys this toasty?"
"First time holding hands with a dude?"
"Duh. How would I know?"
"Honor's mine, Miss Zhang."
"Lucky you."
She leaned back against him—human furnace. Kids got three fires under their ass; Lynn's clearly overstocked. Warmer than the common room fireplace.
"No funny business, got it?"
"Wooden soldier. Zero movement."
Cho lifted her sweater hem. His hot palm hit her belly—instant relief. Brows unfurrowed, cozy vibes flooding in.
"Better?"
"…Yeah. Comfy."
"Nap till half-hour before class?"
"Mhm."
She dozed. Lynn zoned out, staring through the tent's clear roof—castle walls to cloudy sky. Brain on autopilot.
Started replaying shit. Feeding Harry cookies? Dursleys' glow-up? Snape though—dude went from "greasy bat" to… not. Lynn was low-key hyped for Potions. Wandlore and potions? Same alchemical family—fuse magic, birth badass artifacts. Potions = wandlore cheat codes.
Biggest W for Harry? Ditched the dead-weight Ron. Hermione's her new BFF. Ron's whole "I'm a slacker, so my friends gotta be too" vibe? Trash. Harry was smart—till Ron dragged her into copy-homework hell. Even missing a History of Magic OWL from fainting, she still crushed seven. Ron? Zero O's and still got prefect 'cause Dumbledore's playing favorites. Gryffindor's got tons of better dudes.
Harry calling him "god-dad"? Earned.
Mid-daydream—someone growled his name. Leg throbbed. Eyes snapped open.
"LYNN!!!"
Cho's face was tomato-red, ears dripping crimson.
"Ow—what'd I do?"
"YOU!" Teeth clenched, eyes glassy—about to cry. Lynn's soul left his body.
"Oh… uh… shit?"
Face cycled: 😨→😰→🫠
"If I say I zoned out and my hand ghosted—believe me?"
He clocked it: palm wasn't on flat tummy anymore. Now? Curved fabric. Lifted arc.
"Don't cry—I'm sorry! Wasn't on purpose, I swear my brain was in Narnia, hand went rogue—"
Shut up, idiot. Logic's out. Time for feels.
"Actually… I was thinking about you."
Chin on her shoulder, hot breath in her ear.
"Being a girl sucks sometimes, huh? Cramps, ice-cold hands and feet—worse than dunked in a frozen lake. Gotta hurt."
"Last year, before I showed up… any dude ever bring you hot tea on bad days? Hold your freezing hands, blow warm air till you felt okay?"
"Doubt it. Little boys too busy goofing off. But girls deserve princess treatment."
"Tummy better?"
…Thirty seconds of silence.
"…Mhm."
"Way better?"
"Hmph~"
She wiggled, no strength to fight.
"Lemme handle all your bad days from now on?"
"Perv. Hard pass."
She bit her lip, glare weak.
"Swear on my egg-swap days—thirty a month if I'm lying."
Cho snorted, but hid it fast.
Lynn's got that honest face—eyes so clear you could drown in 'em and touch his soul-spring. Pure-ass gaze.
She stared three seconds, looked away, whispered: "One chance."
"But your hand—how long?"
"If I say 'still processing the accident'—shutting up now."
"Wasn't on purpose."
"I know." Cheeks puffed. "Forgiven. This once."
"But next time? Totally intentional."
"There won't be a next time!"
Fist shake—cute threat.
"Don't wanna know why?"
"Nope." Turned away.
"Really?" Belly tickle.
"Quit—fine, spill."
"I don't eat apples… but I'm weak for peaches."
"PERV! ASSHOLE! CREEP!"
"Thirty minutes left."
She froze, leaned back. "Then… thirty minutes."
"Lynn… you a pro at tricking girls?"
"Why?"
"'Cause I was done with your perv ass today."
"Maybe I'm just hot. Hot dudes get forgiven faster."
"Conceited!"
"Nah." He eyed the garden blooms still popping in autumn. "Think I…"
Finger up—poof—tiny flower bloomed on his fingertip.
"…snagged a little kid-magic?"
"Or maybe I stole yours."