Have you ever felt it? That urge—when you pick up a thick, solid stick, you just want to smash something with it? Or when you're holding a sharp fruit knife, there's this itch to stab it deep into a watermelon?
It's the way objects shape our moods and desires.
As the saying goes: "When one carries a sharp blade, the will to kill is never far behind."
Give someone great power or a weapon of true might, and the heart shifts—confidence swells, sometimes even turns savage. Literature often calls this the birth of a demon within, but in truth, we all harbor such shadows.
Take Dumbledore, for instance. In his youth, when his magic soared, he dreamed of reshaping the world, rewriting its rules. Back then, his confidence was blinding—he was so dazzled by his own power that he lost sight of what truly mattered. His heart wasn't wicked, but power tugged at his emotions until someone—or something—shook him awake. Only then did he learn to fear his own strength and guard a quieter, steadier soul.
To remain untouched by power or temptation is a rare feat indeed.
So when Qin Yu gripped a sword that could blaze with fire, freeze the air, or shimmer with eerie green light, how could he not itch for a test?
…
His first thought was Professor Snape—after all, nearly a year of combat lessons had come from him.
But reason kicked in. Challenging Snape now was as good as suicide.
The Whomping Willow? That was George and Fred's favorite spot for a good thrashing—not a club he wanted to join.
Naturally, his mind settled on the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets—a serpent older than Hogwarts itself, a monster cloaked in legend and danger.
Truth be told, the moment Qin Yu gained Parseltongue, he'd wanted to visit the Chamber. But back then, all he could do was lose control in an Obscurus frenzy—it would've been a suicide mission.
Now, things were different. Months of training under Snape, a fine weapon from Professor Swinton… If ever there was a time to challenge a hidden boss, this was it.
Of course, reality had a way of humbling him.
"Pfft!"
Qin Yu dropped to one knee, blood splattering the stone—this time, it was real.
He was crouched in a broad junction deep within the Chamber. He'd just dodged the Basilisk's fangs and slipped behind its massive coils, only for its tail to whip around and slam him against the wall. He crashed down, gasping.
Wiping blood from his lips, Qin Yu lifted two ghostly white eyes to "look" at the serpent.
He'd come prepared: to avoid the Basilisk's deadly gaze, he'd cast a spell to blind himself. (A direct look from the Basilisk meant instant death—just ask Moaning Myrtle; even a glance could mean petrification.) He'd also enchanted his other senses, letting him "see" the monster's every move through heightened perception.
He'd done his homework.
But against overwhelming strength, preparation only went so far. He had no Fawkes to swoop in, and his sword was no Sword of Gryffindor—he wasn't about to slay the beast like Harry Potter.
If the Basilisk had a health bar, what Qin Yu was doing barely scratched the surface.
Still, as a trial for his new blade and a test of his own mettle, it was a worthy challenge.
Ding! Host is now in danger. Please make a choice—
[1]Rely on yourself, face the Basilisk alone. Reward: 1,000 Galleons.
[2]Surrender your body to the Obscurus, slay the Basilisk. Reward: Basilisk fang!
The system's voice echoed in his mind—again.
Ever since he'd leapt into the Chamber, the system had shown up daily.
"You're tempting me with power, aren't you, System?" Qin Yu thought, never taking his focus off the Basilisk.
"…"
"Sorry, but I'm not ready to hand myself over to the Obscurus—not unless it's truly life or death. I don't want to lose control like that again," he replied silently.
"…"
"I'll stick with the first option."
Ding! Host has chosen to rely on yourself and face the Basilisk alone. This is an act of courage—reward: 1,000 Galleons!
Qin Yu arched an eyebrow. Racking up system rewards was one of the few perks he'd gained from these three days of battling the Basilisk.
He'd made his choice. Time to fight for real.
Whoosh!
Flames sprang to life along the blade. Determination set in his jaw, Qin Yu leapt, sword blazing, straight at the colossal serpent.
…
…
"Qin, your injuries are getting worse. You've broken a few ribs this time," Madam Pomfrey scolded, frowning.
Qin Yu was a regular in the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey was used to patching him up. But lately, his wounds had been more serious than ever.
Thankfully, nothing fatal. Not on her watch.
"Was it Snape?" she guessed, a little too boldly.
She'd heard about Snape and Swinton tutoring Qin Yu outside class. Swinton didn't seem the type to go overboard, which left Snape as the likely culprit.
"Uh, it wasn't Professor Snape. I've just been… sparring with a big fella. He's got a temper, but don't worry—give me a bit, and I'll toughen up. Won't get hurt so easily next time," Qin Yu hedged.
"Just be careful," Madam Pomfrey said, letting it go.
She knew this boy—playful, yes, but mature and level-headed. He wouldn't take reckless risks.
Leaving the hospital wing, Qin Yu felt most of his aches fading.
He'd decided to put his "trial" on hold—tomorrow was the End-of-Term Feast, and he had no intention of showing up with a battered face.
And after that, it would be summer break. He couldn't go home looking like he'd fought a Hungarian Horntail.
He'd scare Hermione to tears.
Thinking of her, Qin Yu realized how much he missed home.
Had she grown taller in the half year apart? He'd seen the pictures she'd sent, but nothing compared to seeing her in person.
He remembered their Christmas together.
So… what to do with such a long summer ahead?
Of course, Hermione had started listing holiday plans in her letters a month ago—and kept adding to them.
Just thinking of her notes—"go to xxx for dessert," "visit xxx park to see the fish," "camp by xxx river (need Mum and Dad's permission)"—brought a smile to his lips.
Summer, hurry up and come.
Qin Yu's heart had already left Hogwarts behind, soaring across miles to somewhere far, far away.
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