Of course, even if other things had happened that day, if Qin Yu had just said "Harry Potter" right from the start, Hermione would probably have remembered the name from her books instantly.
But Qin Yu had only casually mentioned "Harry"—a name that sounded perfectly ordinary. So, naturally, Hermione misheard it as "Harley."
After all, before leaving, Qin Yu had simply said he was going with Hagrid to deliver a Hogwarts acceptance letter to a new student, without specifying who it was.
And Hermione had, more than once, wondered if this mysterious student might be a girl.
It wasn't impossible, was it?
And every time she thought about it, she grew inexplicably annoyed.
So when Qin Yu mentioned a name that sounded even a little bit feminine, she immediately projected all her earlier suspicions onto it.
"So, Harry is that Harry Potter?" Hermione asked, forcing her voice to sound as calm as possible.
"Yes, that's right!" Qin Yu nodded.
"And did you two sleep in the same bed?" Hermione arched an eyebrow, pressing on.
So what if Harry was a boy? she thought, a little stubbornly.
"Uh?"
Qin Yu was caught off guard, wondering if this girl's priorities were a bit… off.
"How big was the bed?" Hermione pressed, her tone growing sharper.
"The bed was tiny—wait, no, not one bed! Two! Two really small beds!" Qin Yu quickly corrected himself, realizing he'd nearly been led into a trap.
"Oh… I see." Hermione's face immediately relaxed, as if nothing had happened.
"Alright, I was wrong, Hermione! Next time, I'll definitely take you with me!" Qin Yu seized the opportunity to apologize.
"Hmph!" Hermione turned her head away.
Well, at least she wasn't giving him the cold shoulder anymore. That had to be a good sign, Qin Yu thought.
"Oh no, the cooling charm on this box is about to wear off—the ice cream's going to melt!" Qin Yu exclaimed dramatically, then sighed. "Guess I'll just have to eat both of them myself, so they don't go to waste…"
"Don't you dare~ That's mine!" Hermione spun around, glaring at him.
"So, beautiful and lovely Miss Granger, would you do me the honor of accepting this summer-fresh gift?" Qin Yu said, bowing theatrically as he offered her the ice cream like a rose.
As he leaned in, Hermione suddenly remembered the day she'd read about Harry Potter in her book. That day, to comfort a slightly sulky Qin, she had kissed his cheek. (Author's note: That wasn't sulking, that was jealousy.)
Today, she found herself thinking: I'm upset—so why doesn't he think to kiss my cheek, too?
But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, her heart started thumping wildly, her cheeks flushed, and her mouth went dry.
Well, it's just because it's summer and I'm hot, that's why I want this ice cream! Miss Granger, ever the rational one, reached out and accepted the ice cream from the boy across from her.
And as she lowered her head to taste the fruit jam on top, a gentle hand suddenly cupped the back of her neck. Warm lips brushed lightly across her forehead—soft, fleeting, gone in a heartbeat.
She looked up, eyes wide with surprise, meeting that handsome, familiar face.
"Most tender is the moment when you lower your head—like a water-lily, shy and delicate in the cool breeze…"
The lips that had just grazed her forehead parted, and Qin Yu recited a line of lyrical Chinese poetry.
Hermione didn't understand the words, but the sound alone was beautiful.
"What… what does it mean? Qin, is that a poem?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling just a little.
"It is," Qin Yu replied, then translated softly, "The most beautiful moment is when you lower your head, gentle and shy—like a lovely water-lily, bashful in the summer breeze…"
"That's… beautiful," Hermione murmured, pressing her lips together.
"It is. And it's you who made me think of it." Qin Yu met her eyes, earnest and sincere.
He realized he'd been a little impulsive.
But in that moment, seeing Hermione like this, that poem had simply burst into his mind.
The poem was beautiful, but the girl before him—she was even more so.
In that instant, all he wanted was to kiss her forehead, and give her a poem.
——
Years later, Hermione would still remember this evening.
She'd remember the golden dusk, the heat of summer outside, and the handsome boy who tried to cheer her up with a delicious ice cream.
She'd remember how, as she lowered her head, he kissed her forehead and recited a poem.
That poem was so beautiful it filled her heart with a joy that stayed with her for many, many years. Through every separation, every danger, every loss, and even in the face of despair—whenever she remembered that joy, she found the strength to go on.
Because all she wanted was to hear him read her a poem every day.
Such a wish—simple, and fierce.
…
…
"Meow~"
Eventually, the ice cream did melt. The raspberry jam on top slid down the side and landed on Crookshanks' fur, prompting a disgruntled yowl.
"Ahem, Hermione, just now, I—" Qin Yu wanted to confess that he'd probably had a bit of a cognitive slip.
But before he could say it, he realized how dumb that would sound.
So the words stuck in his throat, and he just stammered.
Hermione smiled, radiant, handing the ice cream to Qin Yu. "Hold this for me, I need to clean up Crookshanks!"
"Alright," Qin Yu nodded.
He drew his wand and cast a Freezing Charm on the ice cream. Instantly, the melting treat refroze, perfectly preserved.
"Amazing…" Hermione gasped, eyes wide with delight.
"I'll teach you later!" Qin Yu grinned.
"Promise!" Hermione nodded eagerly.
Who cared about not using magic outside of school, when it came to making a little girl happy?
Besides, a tiny charm like that wouldn't set off the Ministry's alarms.
After Hermione cleaned the jam and cream from Crookshanks' fur, she took her ice cream back from Qin Yu.
Then she sat down, eating her treat and petting her cat, and said, "Crookshanks, if you don't want to call him uncle, you can call him daddy instead."
"Meow/ow?" Crookshanks mewed in confusion.
"What's the matter? Is it really so hard to change what you call me?" Qin Yu raised an eyebrow.
"Meow?" Crookshanks stared at the human boy, round-eyed.
Honestly, he had no idea what these two were going on about.
If you're going to serve me, then serve me. Why all the chatter? Am I supposed to understand you or what?
Crookshanks grumbled inwardly.
——Dimensional Wall——
There you go, sugar sprinkled. How about a little gift, friends? Even the free ones are fine—I get a penny for each.
If you're not satisfied, I'll think about adding a little drama.
I'm not asking much—just the free ones. If a few hundred people send gifts (right now it's under two hundred a day, even with repeats), that'd be enough for me to treat myself to a single's deluxe hotpot.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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