Qin Yu had a strange dream.
He dreamed he was a scruffy, bearded middle-aged man—older than he'd ever been, even in his previous life. He did nothing all day, drifting aimlessly, while his wife was a star—an executive at a big company.
That day, the single-player game he'd been waiting for, Dark Magic: Potter, finally launched. But his allowance wasn't enough, so he went to beg his wife for a little spending money.
His wife—her face as fresh as a girl's, yet carrying a mature allure—didn't say yes right away. Instead, she pressed him down onto the sofa with a foot clad in a pink knitted sock, pinning him firmly by the chest. In a teasing, singsong voice, she said, "My dear husband, if you want money for your game, you'll have to pay the price~"
He could still feel the ache in his waist as he nodded, swallowing his pride and agreeing to her terms.
And that was where the dream ended.
When Qin Yu woke, he lay in bed for a long while, mind buzzing with curiosity about just what humiliating "price" his dream self was about to pay.
What, did I forget to buy the premium pass? Why won't the dream let me see the rest?
He grumbled inwardly.
He couldn't quite make out his dream wife's face, but there was something hauntingly familiar about her—especially that foot in the pink sock… He could practically recall the pressure on his chest from being stepped on.
Honestly, just that detail made the dream feel almost real.
If that's how real the dream was, then wouldn't the next part be just as vivid? Maybe I should try going back to sleep…
Of course, Qin Yu knew the chances of picking up where he left off were slim. All he could do was sigh, a little regretful.
Truly, what you dwell on by day, you dream of by night. I've been joking about living off my wife for ages, and now, in my dreams, it's finally come true. He gave himself a casual "dream analysis."
Sure, it was a bit embarrassing to have to ask his wife for money in the dream—but that was the price! The price of love and patience, just like the "language of steel wool." At least, in his case, it was a pink sock, not steel wool—so was that punishment, or a reward?
Dreams, after all, are only dreams. Back to reality: magic still needed learning and practice, and his future wife would have to be waited for, nurtured, and cherished slowly.
His mind gradually cleared as he lay there. With no phone to scroll through, there was nothing left to keep him in bed. Qin Yu threw off the covers and got dressed.
…
Just like last year, the Hogwarts Christmas break wasn't even over before the Grangers' work had resumed. Their dental clinic was already booked solid, so holidays never lasted long.
When Qin Yu came downstairs, Mrs. Granger was dressed and ready, picking up her handbag as she prepared to leave.
Outside, the car engine hummed to life, and Mr. Granger's voice called out, urging her along.
"Qin Yu—oh, darling, good morning! Breakfast is ready, don't forget to eat! Hermione's still asleep, remember to wake her! I'm off now! Bye-bye, dear!"
Mrs. Granger rattled off her instructions in a breathless string.
Qin Yu barely managed a "Good morning" before she was out the door.
A moment later, the car whisked the Granger couple away.
Well, everyone's busy. That's not a bad thing.
With a half-awake sigh, Qin Yu wandered over and knocked on Hermione's bedroom door.
There was a pause, then a sleepy, muffled reply granting him permission to enter.
He pushed the door open gently. The air inside carried that distinctive stuffiness of a room slept in all night—too many hours in a small space, not enough fresh air. And yet, the little witch's room somehow still smelled pleasant, like a heavy floral perfume.
Still, a room needed airing out. Qin Yu left the door open behind him.
Sensing someone's presence, the brown-haired girl burrowed in her blankets cracked open one eye, only to shut it again.
"Qin Yuuuu… I'm so tired… Let me sleep five more minutes…" Hermione pleaded, her voice soft and full of sleep.
Qin Yu wasn't falling for it. She'd woken him up early more than once—no way was he letting her off easy.
"Come on, get up. If you keep sleeping, the sun's going to toast your backside."
"No, it won't! I'm under the covers!" she protested, shaking her head stubbornly.
"Oh? Then I'll just have to pull your covers off!" Qin Yu leaned in, his tone mock-menacing.
"Ah! No, don't! I'm cold!" Hermione immediately clutched her blanket tighter, rolling left and right until she was wrapped up like a cocoon.
Qin Yu stared at the little witch, now a wriggling blanket burrito, momentarily speechless—especially since she poked her head out just to grin at him, her expression radiating sleepy, innocent mischief.
Maybe her brain hadn't quite booted up yet.
All the fuss didn't get her out of bed, but it did chase away most of her sleepiness. Seeing Qin Yu's helpless look, she was clearly pleased with herself.
"What are Mum and Dad up to?" she asked, curiosity lighting up her face.
"Your folks just left for the clinic. Didn't you hear the car?"
"I think I heard something, but I thought I was dreaming," Hermione admitted.
"Before she left, your mum issued a royal edict," Qin Yu announced, putting on a solemn face as he bowed to the ceiling with mock gravity. "She appointed me Supreme Commander of Wake-Up Operations!"
He struck a pose worthy of a British prime minister or royal envoy.
Hermione had no idea who he was imitating, but she found it hilarious, giggling uncontrollably.
"A royal edict? Hahaha! Is Mum the Queen now? Hahaha!" she stuck out her tongue, then seemed to realize she might have been a bit cheeky about the monarchy—after all, the British royals were still a big deal.
There was no hope of falling back asleep now—all thanks to this guy barging in and stirring up trouble.
But as her thoughts wandered, Hermione found herself wondering: if, in the years to come, this was how every day began—with him coming to wake her up—wouldn't that be rather nice?
For just a moment, she glimpsed a future scene: herself, still refusing to get up, and someone else—grown up alongside her—devising new tricks to coax her out of bed.
What would he do then?
After all, by then they'd both be adults. Surely things would be a little different…
Hmm, maybe growing up would be something to look forward to after all.
But there was no rush. These days, too, were perfectly sweet—worth cherishing, savoring, and holding close.
🔥 Want to read the next 20 chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]