Miss Granger might not have been able to fall back asleep, but that didn't mean she'd get up just because someone told her to. Obedience had never been her style.
She stretched one hand out from under the covers, pajama sleeve slipping down to reveal a slender, pale forearm.
Seeing her reach for him, Qin Yu instinctively took her hand, meaning to help her up.
But the girl refused to cooperate, shaking her head with a mix of urgency and indignation. "Not like that, not like that! Like that day!"
That day? What day?
Qin Yu was baffled.
"Like… like at Flourish and Blotts!" Hermione blurted out, her cheeks tinged pink. But since her parents weren't home, her embarrassment quickly faded. Instead, she fixed him with a determined stare, willing him to remember.
Ah, that day.
Qin Yu remembered at once.
He straightened up, then bent at the waist with a flourish. Taking her delicate hand in his, he pressed his lips gently to the back of it, and—putting on his best London accent—declared, "Time to rise, my dear princess!"
It wasn't much different from those silly online memes he remembered from his previous life—"Princess, your carriage awaits," "Princess, time for bed," "Princess, let's eat snail noodles."
And just like those little girls online, Miss Granger absolutely loved it.
Qin Yu had delivered maximum emotional value.
Sure enough, Hermione broke into giggles, kicked off her blanket in delight, and waved both arms at him.
—One hand meant she wanted to be pulled up; two hands meant something else entirely.
Qin Yu caught her meaning. Smiling in resignation, he bent down and let the little witch loop her arms around his neck.
He'd already called her "princess"—a bit of heavy lifting was only fitting.
Once she'd locked her grip, Qin Yu braced himself and, with a quick lift, pulled her upright.
But Hermione wasn't done. She immediately hooked her legs around his waist, shimmied up a bit, and clung to him like an oversized koala.
"…"
Well, Qin Yu was officially ensnared by the little witch.
He gave her a light, playful smack and grumbled, "Where to next, Your Highness?"
"Ahem… bathroom…" came the muffled reply.
Her head was still buried against his neck, clearly mortified.
Qin Yu didn't tease her further. He hurried out of the room, carrying his oversized "pendant" to the bathroom beside the living room.
At the door, Hermione slid down in a flash, then—utterly ungrateful—shoved him aside and darted in, slamming the door behind her.
"Honestly, you'd think I was some kind of villain," Qin Yu muttered, shaking his head. Before any sounds could emerge from the bathroom, he made his way to the kitchen.
He set out the breakfast Mrs. Granger had prepared, laying out everything on the table for a certain "princess" to enjoy after she'd freshened up.
…
Breakfast was simple—egg and ham sandwiches with milk, plenty nutritious.
Qin Yu wasn't picky. It wasn't as if he could expect Mrs. Granger to whip up tofu pudding and fried dough sticks, anyway—and even if she could, getting the savory sauce right would be a nightmare.
They chatted as they ate.
Hermione mentioned how she'd stayed up late reading, caught up in a few fascinating ancient tales. She retold one or two for Qin Yu, who listened with rapt attention.
"Sigh, still no news about Nicolas Flamel…" she finished, then gave Qin Yu a pleading look. "Qin, are you really not going to tell me?"
Qin Yu took a leisurely sip of milk, unfazed. "I could tell you, but don't you think it's more exciting to figure it out yourself? You are, after all, the star pupil of Detective Poirot."
Secrets Hagrid was still guarding weren't his to spill. But he knew how to talk to different people in different ways.
Sure enough, Hermione's eyes lit up with renewed determination. "I'll find the answer myself!"
A little witch who doesn't aspire to be a great detective will never make a great Minister for Magic.
She then muttered, "I wonder if Harry and Ron are looking into it…"
"Those two? If they're not causing trouble, they're probably running wild, enjoying their break," Qin Yu predicted mercilessly.
And, truth be told, that was exactly how those two were likely spending their holiday.
Talk of Harry and Ron led naturally to the Weasleys, who hadn't spent Christmas with their school-age children but had gone to visit Charlie in Romania instead.
Charlie's dragon-taming job sparked endless curiosity.
"I always thought working at a dragon reserve out in Romania would be dull and lonely, but apparently Charlie met some girl there—and managed to get on her bad side. I even gave him a few tips in my letter. When it comes to cheering up girls, I'm pretty good at it."
As Qin Yu spoke, he realized he might have said too much. The room had gone suspiciously silent.
Sure enough, when he looked up, he met Hermione's narrowed eyes, studying him with a cool, appraising gaze.
"Uh…" He coughed awkwardly.
"Pretty good at cheering up girls, are you?" she said, voice soft and dangerous.
"No, no, I just mean I'm a bit better at it than Charlie!" Qin Yu scrambled to explain.
"Oh? And how many girls have you 'cheered up,' Mr. Qin?" Hermione asked calmly.
But the foot that found its way under the table—pressing down, hard—proved she was anything but calm.
"Ow! Just one! Only one!" Qin Yu yelped, wincing as her foot dug in.
"Oh? And how many do you want to cheer up?" she pressed, voice deceptively sweet.
"Only one! Just one, I swear!" Qin Yu declared, all righteous indignation.
"Hmph. That's more like it." Hermione finally withdrew her foot.
But Qin Yu couldn't help himself. "Aren't you going to ask who that one is?"
No sooner had he said it than he leapt from his chair and bolted.
Sure enough, the furious little witch shrieked his name and gave chase.
After a wild, noisy chase around the living room—limited as the space was—Qin Yu was eventually caught, pinned down on the sofa by a triumphant Hermione.
What followed was a flurry of playful punches, kicks, and even a few nips.
At last, Hermione stood over him, foot planted firmly on his chest, demanding to know who, exactly, was the girl he wanted to "cheer up."
For a split second, Qin Yu was stunned. The scene was identical to his dream—not just similar, but a perfect match.
So that dream was prophetic after all.
"It's you, it's you! Who else but Miss Granger?" Qin Yu said, grabbing her little hand. Caught off balance, she tumbled into his arms.
"You're impossible, Qin!" the little witch huffed, feigning outrage.
He held her close, his tone suddenly serious. "Hermione, I had a dream last night…"
"Mm?"
"I dreamed that, many years from now, you'd still treat me just like this."
"Huh?"
"And your feet were still this strong."
"Eh?"
"I like you this way. I really do. I like the lively you."
"Mm…"
The dream's description was a bit odd—what exactly did "your feet were still this strong" mean? Hermione didn't quite get it. But since he'd said "like," that was the only word she really heard.
They'd just finished breakfast and chased each other around; now, a little tired, it seemed only right to lie down together for a while. There was nothing urgent to do, after all.
As she thought this, one mischievous little foot started nudging at his, the two of them playfully sparring under the blanket, neither willing to concede defeat.
Just like a cat can't control its tail, Hermione found she couldn't control that impish foot of hers either.
🔥 Want to read the next 20 chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]