Chapter 21
Potion-crossed Sweethearts (Part 3)
The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning energy as students gathered for breakfast. Qing Yi sat at the Slytherin table, lazily munching on a piece of toast. His silver hair gleamed under the soft sunlight filtering through the enchanted ceiling. Despite the noise and excitement around him, he seemed to be lost in his own world, until Nie Huaisang burst through the doors, his robes flapping dramatically behind him, a crumpled copy of the Hogwarts Herald in his hand.
"Qing Yi!" Nie Huaisang gasped, skidding to a halt beside him. "You've got to see this. It's... it's not good."
Qing Yi raised an eyebrow, slowly chewing his mouthful of toast. "Mmph... eating here," he mumbled around the bread. "Why don't you just read it for me?"
Nie Huaisang hesitated, his eyes darting nervously around the hall. Taking a deep breath, he smoothed out the paper and began to read in a shaky voice:
"Get ready, Hogwarts! It's time to crown your Fall Dance King and Queen! The voting polls are now open, and all your favorite candidates are eagerly awaiting your support. But wait, there's more! This year, we have a surprise couple joining the race. That's right, folks – your very own potion-crossed lovers are in the running! With Qing Yi's delicate, ethereal beauty and Jin Zixuan's dashing good looks, they're sure to be a showstopper. So cast your votes and let's see if we can make some magical history!"
As Nie Huaisang's voice trailed off, Qing Yi's face contorted into a mix of disgust, anger, and shock. He choked on his pumpkin juice, coughing and spluttering as the realization of what he'd just heard sank in.
The noise around their section of the Great Hall grew louder. Students from nearby tables—Slytherin and Ravenclaw—had overheard Nie Huaisang’s reading and quickly picked up on the teasing opportunity. They turned to smirk and whisper, some of them snickering under their breath.
"Yeah, Qing Yi! You're definitely fit to be the Queen!" a Slytherin boy called out, his voice dripping with mockery.
Another voice from the Ravenclaw table, a few seats down, chimed in, "Put a dress and some makeup on him—I bet he's prettier than most girls in this school!"
The laughter swelled, drawing attention from across the hall. Suddenly, a shout rang out, "Hey, Jin Zixuan! Better start practicing your slow dance. Don't want to step on your queen's toes!"
Across the room, Jin Zixuan’s face turned crimson as the words echoed toward him. He blinked, confused and unsure of what was happening, the laughter of students around him only adding to his embarrassment. He glanced around, trying to understand the situation, but the students nearby were too busy laughing and nudging each other.
At the Ravenclaw table, Lan Xichen's brow furrowed as he overheard the cruel jokes. His gaze found Qing Yi amidst the chaos, noting the younger student's distress with a growing sense of concern. Though frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior, he kept his composure, addressing his fellow Ravenclaws with a quiet but firm voice, his usually gentle tone now carrying a sharper edge.
"That's quite enough," he said, his voice commanding attention despite its softness. "This behavior is unbecoming of Hogwarts students."
Beside him, Lan Wangji remained seated but fixed the laughing students with an icy stare that could have frozen the Black Lake solid. His disapproval radiated in waves, silencing those nearest to him.
Further away, Wei Wuxian nudged Jiang Cheng, his playful demeanor replaced by worry. "Merlin's beard, what's happening now?" Jiang Cheng muttered, half-rising from his seat, his protective instincts kicking in.
Wei Wuxian's eyes darted between the mortified Qing Yi and the equally embarrassed Jin Zixuan. "I don't know," he replied, his voice uncharacteristically serious, "but it can't be good. Look at Jin Zixuan's face."
Back at the Slytherin table, Qing Yi could feel the stares and hear the laughter growing around him. His throat tightened, but not from the pumpkin juice—this was worse. Shame and frustration gnawed at him, the heat rising in his cheeks as the relentless laughter echoed in his ears. He could feel his hands tremble slightly, hidden under the table, and for a moment, he thought about just... running.
But even at his own house table, the Slytherins were no kinder. A group of older students snickered nearby, their voices carrying just loud enough for him to hear. "Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new Slytherin Queen this year, huh?"
More laughter erupted around the table, growing louder by the second. Ming Zhe, sitting a few seats away, stiffened. His sharp eyes flicked toward the source of the noise, his expression hardening with quiet authority. A few of the students quickly stopped laughing, casting nervous glances his way.
As the noise simmered down in his immediate vicinity, Ming Zhe’s gaze shifted toward Qing Yi, catching the silver-haired boy struggling to hold himself together. The slight tremble in Qing Yi’s frame didn’t go unnoticed. Despite Ming Zhe’s efforts to quiet things down, the whispers and cruel teasing from nearby students still lingered.
The mocking felt suffocating to Qing Yi, like an echo bouncing around him, as if the entire school were laughing at him. His throat tightened further, the shame and frustration clawing at him, and the heat in his cheeks burned hotter. His hands trembled under the table, his heart pounding, as he fought the urge to flee.
Nie Huaisang, standing beside him, looked horrified. His normally bright, carefree expression was gone, replaced with a deep frown and a furrowed brow. He glanced at Qing Yi, regret and guilt evident in his eyes. "I... I shouldn’t have read it out loud like that... I'm so sorry, Qing Yi..."
Qing Yi didn’t respond. His mind was racing, but the weight of the stares and the humiliation pinned him in place. He needed to leave. He couldn’t take this anymore. Without another word, he stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back, and hurried out of the Great Hall, his face burning with a mix of anger and shame. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding the sneers and smirks of the students as he pushed through the doors, his heart pounding in his chest.
Nie Huaisang’s voice rang out behind him. “Qing Yi!” He stood frozen for a moment, torn between chasing after his friend and facing the students. His own face flushed with anger as he whipped around, glaring at the students who were still laughing.
"Shut up, you stupid troll-brained gits!" Nie Huaisang snapped, his usual calm and mild demeanor shattered by his frustration. But the students only laughed louder, their teasing continuing even as Qing Yi rushed out.
"Oh, looks like we touched a nerve!" someone jeered from the Ravenclaw side, followed by more mocking snickers.
"Better practice your curtsy, Queen Qing Yi!" another student called out, their voice dripping with sarcasm as the room rippled with amusement.
Nie Huaisang clenched his fists, frustration boiling as the teasing only seemed to grow louder, his words having had the opposite effect. Ignoring their reactions, Nie Huaisang rushed toward the exit.
"Qing Yi, wait up!" he called, determined to catch up to his friend, leaving the Great Hall behind.
Lan Xichen's gaze followed Qing Yi as he hurried out of the hall, the hurt on his face leaving a weight in Lan Xichen's chest. Without a moment's hesitation, he stood and made his way to the exit, his stride purposeful and quick as he followed after Qing Yi.
As Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen disappeared through the doors, the focus of the laughter shifted to Jin Zixuan, still seated at the Gryffindor table.
"Oi, Jin Zixuan!" a Slytherin called out. "Your queen's fled the castle! Better go rescue her before she finds a new king!"
"What's wrong, Your Majesty?" another voice taunted. "Lost your appetite for a royal breakfast with your blushing bride?"
Jin Zixuan's face burned with humiliation and rage, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table. His eyes darted to the Slytherin table, and saw that both Jin Guangyao and Wen Chao were nowhere to be seen. A sinking realization washed over him. ‘This has to be their doing,’ he thought bitterly. His frustration deepened, knowing that his outburst yesterday had likely made everything worse.
Unable to endure another moment of ridicule, Jin Zixuan abruptly stood, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. As he turned to leave, his gaze met Jiang Yanli's concerned eyes at the Hufflepuff table. They shared a moment of silent understanding, her sympathy a balm to his wounded pride, before Zixuan strode out, his usual confident demeanor crumbling under the weight of the jeers.
At the Gryffindor table, Wei Wuxian nudged Jiang Cheng, his normally playful expression replaced by worry. "This situation is spiraling out of control faster than a Firebolt Supreme," he muttered.
Jiang Cheng nodded grimly, his brow furrowed. "Agreed. We should check on Qing Yi. And probably Zixuan too, as much as it pains me to admit."
As they rose to follow, the cruel laughter continued to echo through the Great Hall, growing louder and more raucous. The commotion finally drew Professor Granger's attention away from her conversation with Professor Longbottom at the staff table. She looked up, her brow furrowing as she took in the unusually rowdy breakfast scene and the students hurrying towards the exit.
"What’s all this commotion about?" she asked, her voice clear and firm as it carried across the room. She scanned the hall with a sharp gaze. "You’d best finish up and get to your classes—breakfast is nearly over."
Her words seemed to break the spell of excitement that had gripped the students. The laughter began to die down, replaced by the scraping of benches and the rustle of robes as students prepared to face the day ahead, the morning's drama still fresh in their minds.
The stone corridors echoed with Qing Yi's furious footsteps, each one a thunderclap of rage. Nie Huaisang's voice cut through the tempest of his thoughts.
"Qing Yi! Where in Merlin's name are you storming off to?"
Qing Yi whirled around, his silver hair a cyclone, emerald eyes flashing like killing curses. "To hex Jin Guangyao into next week! Let's see how he likes being the laughingstock of Hogwarts!"
Nie Huaisang lunged forward, grabbing Qing Yi's arm. The touch was like a bucket of ice water, momentarily dousing Qing Yi's fury.
"Have you lost your mind?" Nie Huaisang hissed, "You're walking right into his trap! The more you react, the more ammunition you give him."
Qing Yi froze, the logic of Nie Huaisang's words penetrating the fog of his anger. His fury began to deflate, replaced by a crushing sense of helplessness. "But..." he started, voice small and uncertain.
Nie Huaisang pressed on, his tone gentle but firm. "If you go there and blow up at them again, who knows what other stories they'll conjure up next time? You'd be playing right into their hands."
Qing Yi's shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. He bit his lip, conflicting emotions warring on his face. "Then what?" he whispered, voice cracking. "I just... take it? Let them turn me into a joke?"
Nie Huaisang's gaze clouded with worry, clearly at a loss himself. "Well..." he began, fan fluttering nervously as he searched for the right words, feeling the weight of his friend's distress.
Just then, footsteps echoed down the corridor. A familiar voice called out, "Qing Yi!"
Both boys turned to see Lan Xichen approaching, his usual serene expression marred by concern. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were close behind, their faces a mix of worry and determination.
"Merlin's beard, you move fast when you're angry," Wei Wuxian quipped, but his eyes held genuine worry.
"Are you alright?” Lan Xichen asked, slightly out of breath. His eyes locked onto Qing Yi's face, taking in the younger boy's distress. “It’s alright. Don’t let their words get to you.”
Qing Yi’s gaze shifted toward Lan Xichen, and for a moment, his anger and frustration began to soften. Seeing Lan Xichen’s concerned expression, his shoulders sagged, the weight of his emotions bearing down on him. He wanted to hold himself together, but the second he met Lan Xichen’s eyes—the kindness and understanding within them—everything unraveled.
His chest tightened, his emotions too much to bear. Qing Yi’s resolve crumbled as tears welled up in his eyes, and without thinking, he rushed toward Lan Xichen. He wrapped his arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. “Senior Lan…”
Lan Xichen, taken aback by the sudden embrace, froze for a moment, his heart squeezing at the sight of Qing Yi’s tears. But understanding the depths of Qing Yi’s hurt, he wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly. One hand gently rubbed Qing Yi’s hair as he spoke softly, “It’s okay, Qing Yi. It’ll be alright.”
Qing Yi clung to him, his body trembling as the floodgates of emotion finally broke. He couldn’t stop the tears, and the frustration of not knowing how to fix his situation overwhelmed him. His voice was muffled against Lan Xichen’s robes, but his cries were filled with anguish.
Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng exchanged a look of shared frustration, both of them knowing too well how much their friend was suffering. They stepped forward, offering their silent support. Wei Wuxian gave Qing Yi’s shoulder a reassuring pat, his expression softer than usual.
“This sucks, we know,” Wei Wuxian said, his voice gentle but firm. “But right now, reacting to them will only make things worse. The more they see it bothers you, the harder they’ll push.”
Jiang Cheng nodded in agreement. “Right. You just have to keep your head down and ignore them for now. We’ll be here for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Qing Yi, still clinging to Lan Xichen, slowly lifted his head. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes red and puffy from crying. “Wwee…shank gois…” (gee, thanks guys) His words were muffled, broken by his sobs, but the gratitude in his voice was unmistakable.
Lan Xichen smiled softly, his hand still gently rubbing Qing Yi’s back. “Come find me after your classes,” he said reassuringly. “We’ll figure out a way to handle all of this. You don’t have to face it alone.”
Qing Yi sniffled, his emotions still raw, but the weight on his chest had lightened ever so slightly. Surrounded by his friends, he felt a small flicker of hope—enough to keep him standing.
Wei Wuxian ruffled Qing Yi’s hair, a mischievous grin breaking through the tension. “Hey, no more tears. You’re supposed to be the ‘Slytherin Queen,’ remember? Queens don’t cry.”
Qing Yi let out a small, shaky laugh, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. “Thanks… guys.”
Qing Yi sniffled, his emotions still raw, but the weight on his chest had lightened ever so slightly. Surrounded by his friends, he felt a small flicker of hope—enough to keep him standing.
Lan Xichen, ever composed, glanced at the group. “Alright, everyone, let’s get you all to class before you end up with detention for being late.”
Jiang Cheng nodded, offering Qing Yi a slight pat on the back. “Catch you later, Qing Yi.”
Wei Wuxian chimed in, his usual playful tone returning. “Try not to let the ‘royal duties’ get to your head, yeah?” He winked before turning to leave, his laughter echoing down the hall.
Nie Huaisang gave a sympathetic smile. “I’ll see you in Potions later, Qing Yi. Take it easy, alright?” He shot a last concerned glance before heading off to class.
As the group dispersed, Lan Xichen and Qing Yi remained. Qing Yi was still trying to calm himself, his sniffles slowly subsiding. His cheeks were still flushed from all the crying, but the overwhelming emotions had started to settle.
Lan Xichen gently lifted Qing Yi’s chin, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from the younger boy’s cheek. “No more tears,” he said, his voice gentle. “Didn't you once tell me that despite what others might think, you're not weak just because of your size?
Qing Yi blinked, the kindness in Lan Xichen’s words steadying him. “Where's that fiery spirit I admire so much?” Lan Xichen added, smiling warmly.
Qing Yi took a deep breath, feeling the strength return to him. A small, grateful smile crept onto his face. “I’m still here,” he said softly, his voice firmer. “I just... had a weak moment.”
Lan Xichen smiled softly, his hand still resting on Qing Yi’s cheek, gentle and reassuring. “And that’s alright,” he said, his tone full of care. “But remember, you don’t have to carry it alone. I’m here for you. “Whenever things feel too heavy, come to me. I’ll help you through it.”
As Lan Xichen's words sank in, Qing Yi's heart began to race, pounding so loudly he was sure Lan Xichen must hear it. A warmth blossomed in his chest, spreading through his body like wildfire. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to fade away, leaving only Lan Xichen's gentle smile in focus.
'He admires me,' Qing Yi thought, the words echoing in his mind like a cherished melody. A mixture of excitement and nervous energy coursed through him, making his hands tremble slightly. Hope, fragile but vibrant, unfurled in his heart.
Gathering every ounce of courage he possessed, Qing Yi looked up at Lan Xichen. His emerald eyes were wide and soft, filled with a vulnerability he rarely allowed others to see. His face flushed a deep crimson, the heat of his blush reaching the tips of his ears.
"Xichen-ge," he asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper, quivering with the weight of his emotions. He paused, swallowing hard, his next words carrying all his hopes and fears. "When you say you admire me... does that mean you like me?"
The question hung in the air, innocent yet bold. Lan Xichen’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by Qing Yi’s directness. For a brief moment, he was taken aback by the vulnerability and the softness in Qing Yi’s emerald eyes, wide and bright with hope. The younger boy’s face was flushed red, making him look even more endearing. But despite his own fondness for Qing Yi, Lan Xichen hesitated. Qing Yi was still too young, and Lan Xichen wasn’t sure if the boy truly understood the weight of what he was asking.
Deciding it was best to wait until Qing Yi was older and more sure of himself, Lan Xichen chose his words carefully. "Qing Yi, I admire you as a friend and as a student. You have qualities that I respect greatly."
Qing Yi's heart plummeted at Lan Xichen's words, the brief flicker of hope extinguished as quickly as it had ignited. 'Just a friend and a student,' he thought, the words echoing painfully in his mind. The warmth that had blossomed in his chest moments ago turned cold, leaving a hollow ache in its place.
He lowered his gaze, unable to meet Lan Xichen's eyes, afraid that his own might betray the depth of his disappointment. The rejection stung more than any teasing or bullying he'd endured. Qing Yi felt foolish for even daring to hope, for misinterpreting Lan Xichen's kindness as something more.
Lan Xichen, noticing Qing Yi's change in demeanor, quickly added, "For now, let's focus on dealing with the current situation. We can talk more about other things when this has died down." He smiled softly, his hand still resting on Qing Yi's cheek, gentle and reassuring. "And remember, you don't have to carry it alone. I'm here for you. Whenever things feel too heavy, come to me. I'll help you through it."
Qing Yi nodded, his voice catching slightly. "Alright," he whispered, the earlier enthusiasm gone from his voice. He wrapped his arms around himself, as if trying to hold together the pieces of his shattered hopes.
The two started walking toward their next class, the air between them now tinged with an unspoken tension. Qing Yi's steps felt heavier, his earlier resolve to face the day with strength now wavering.
But as they turned the corner, a shadow emerged from behind a pillar. Wen Chao stepped into view, a smug grin plastered on his face. In his hand, a camera dangled casually, the faint click from moments before still fresh in the air.
"Koh…" Wen Chao drawled, holding up the camera mockingly. "What am I going to do with you?" He smirked. "This is going to be fun."
The Potions classroom buzzed with activity, cauldrons bubbling and ingredients sizzling. Qing Yi stood before his workstation, his silver hair hanging limply around his dejected face. His emerald eyes, usually sharp and focused, were distant and glazed over. Beside him, Nie Huaisang watched with growing concern.
"Qing Yi," Nie Huaisang whispered, nudging his friend gently. "You're about to add powdered moonstone instead of crushed pearls. Are you trying to turn this Draught of Peace into a Drought of Despair?"
Qing Yi blinked, startled out of his reverie. "What? Oh, I... sorry." He set down the wrong ingredient, but as he reached for the pearls, his elbow knocked over a vial of armadillo bile. The viscous liquid spread across the table, hissing as it made contact with other ingredients.
A small explosion rocked their workstation, filling the air with purple smoke that smelled strongly of overripe bananas. Qing Yi coughed, waving his hand in front of his face, his robes now spattered with an unfortunate mix of colors.
Professor Slughorn waddled over, his walrus mustache twitching in bewilderment. "Merlin's beard, Mr. Koh! What in the name of Nicolass Flamel's left sock happened here?" He peered at Qing Yi, concern evident in his rheumy eyes. "My boy, what has occupied your mind all day? You normally don't make mistakes like this."
Before Qing Yi could answer, a snide voice piped up from across the room. "Maybe he's too busy thinking about what dress he's going to wear for the dance this weekend, Professor!" Witlock called out, eliciting snickers from several students.
Qing Yi's head snapped up, his emerald eyes flashing dangerously as he glared at Witlock. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
Slughorn looked utterly perplexed, his head swiveling between Qing Yi and like a bewildered owl. "Dresses? What dresses? Mr. Koh, are you taking up sartorial pursuits alongside your potions studies?" He chuckled, clearly thinking he'd made a clever joke.
Nie Huaisang, seeing Qing Yi's distress, jumped to his friend's defense. "Shut your gob, Witlock!" he snapped, his fan fluttering agitatedly. "Why don't you worry about what dress you're going to wear instead? Merlin knows you could use the improvement!"
Slughorn's eyes widened, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Now, now, children. Let's not get our wands in a knot. Mr. Nie, Mr. Witlock, please focus on your assignments. We're brewing peace here, not starting the next wizarding war!"
The class reluctantly returned to their work, but the damage was done. Qing Yi's shoulders slumped even further, his earlier embarrassment now compounded. He mechanically began cleaning up the mess at his station, his movements listless and unfocused.
Nie Huaisang watched his friend with worried eyes, his own potion forgotten. He wanted to say something, anything to lift Qing Yi's spirits, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he silently passed Qing Yi a clean rag, their fingers brushing in a moment of unspoken support.
As the lesson continued, Qing Yi remained silent, his usual enthusiasm for potions nowhere to be seen. The colorful stains on his robes seemed to mock him, a visual representation of how his day – and perhaps his life – had spiraled out of control.
When Professor Slughorn finally dismissed the class, Qing Yi gathered his things mechanically, his movements listless. Nie Huaisang hovered nearby, concern etched on his face. As they stepped into the corridor, the real ordeal began.
Throughout the day, as Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang walked between classes, the hallways became a gauntlet of taunts and jeers. Students made exaggerated kissy faces as they passed.
"Good luck, Queenie! I voted for you and your prince charming!" a Hufflepuff called out, winking dramatically.
"All hail the Queen of Slytherin!" a group of Ravenclaws chorused, bowing mockingly.
Even some Slytherins joined in. "You better win this for our house, Qing Yi," a sixth-year sneered. "Show them what a real queen looks like in green!"
With each taunt, Qing Yi's shoulders hunched further, his emerald eyes darkening with a mix of shame and rage. The teasing grew meaner as the day wore on, each jab cutting deeper than the last.
Finally, after a particularly cruel comment about his "royal wedding," Qing Yi snapped. His hand flew to his wand, eyes blazing with fury. For a moment, it seemed he might hex the entire hallway into silence.
Nie Huaisang, seeing the telltale signs of his friend's impending explosion, quickly grabbed Qing Yi's arm. "Don't," he whispered urgently, his eyes pleading. "It's not worth it. They're not worth it."
Qing Yi's grip on his wand tightened for a moment, his knuckles white with tension. Then, slowly, he relaxed his hand, letting out a shaky breath. Without a word, he quickened his pace, practically running to their next class. Nie Huaisang hurried after him, concern etched on his face.
As the final class ended, Nie Huaisang turned to Qing Yi, his voice hesitant. "We're meeting the others in the library. Are you coming?"
Qing Yi shook his head, unable to meet his friend's concerned gaze. "I... I need some air. To be alone for a while." His voice was barely audible, rough with unshed tears.
Nie Huaisang nodded reluctantly, watching as Qing Yi walked away, shoulders slumped in defeat. He stood there for a long moment, torn between following his friend and respecting his wish for solitude.
In the library, the usual warmth of their group gathering was noticeably dampened. Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Lan Xichen, and Lan Wangji were already seated when Nie Huaisang arrived alone.
Wei Wuxian's smile faded as he noticed the missing member. "Where's Qing Yi?" he asked, his normally mischievous eyes clouded with concern.
Nie Huaisang sighed heavily, collapsing into a chair. "He said he wanted to be alone, get some fresh air." His voice was tight with frustration and worry. "The whole day has been awful. Nothing but teasing."
The group exchanged concerned glances. Lan Xichen's brow furrowed deeply, his eyes clouded with worry. Even Lan Wangji's stoic expression softened slightly.
Jiang Cheng broke the tense silence with a sigh. "Jin Zixuan's not doing well either," he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "He's avoiding everyone, even my sister. It's bad."
A collective sigh rippled through the group, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon them. For a moment, only the soft rustle of pages and distant whispers of other students filled the air.
Wei Wuxian, unable to contain his frustration any longer, slammed his palm on the table. "This whole thing has really gotten out of hand," he growled, his usually playful eyes flashing with anger. "I'm going to report this to the professors. It's gone too far."
Jiang Cheng nodded vigorously, leaning forward. "Yeah, and have them shut down that stupid school newspaper press," he added, his voice low but intense. "Or at least replace the Slytherins with students from other houses. This bias has to stop."
Lan Wangji, who had been silent until now, shook his head slowly. His golden eyes were somber as he spoke, each word measured and heavy with truth. "The teasing will continue even if the professors intervene. The damage..." he paused, his gaze sweeping across the group, "has already been done."
His words hung in the air, sobering and undeniable. The group fell silent once more, each processing the harsh reality of the situation.
Lan Xichen, however, seemed lost in his own thoughts. His brow was furrowed, eyes distant as he replayed his earlier conversation with Qing Yi. Guilt gnawed at him. Had his words made things worse for Qing Yi? Was his hesitation the reason Qing Yi was feeling so lost? 'Maybe if I had been clearer,' he mused, his heart heavy, 'if I could just tell Qing Yi how I truly feel about him... Perhaps he wouldn't be feeling so low right now.'
As the weight of his thoughts pressed down on him, Lan Xichen stood up suddenly. The others looked up in surprise.
“I need to take care of a few things,” Lan Xichen said, his voice steady but laced with an urgency he couldn’t hide. “I’ll see you all later.”
The others nodded, watching as he swiftly exited the library. The moment he stepped into the hallway, his mind was set. He had to find Qing Yi and make sure he was okay—he couldn’t let this linger any longer.
****
The courtyard was one of the more secluded spots in Hogwarts, a peaceful retreat from the noise and bustle of the castle. The autumn leaves drifted down lazily, their vibrant reds and oranges swirling through the cool air. A soft wind rustled through the trees, sending a cascade of leaves down into the still water of the fountain at its center. Qing Yi sat on one of the benches, his silver hair catching the evening light, the crisp air nipping at his cheeks as he quietly watched the scene unfold.
For a moment, the world around him felt still, serene, a stark contrast to the chaos and taunting of the day. He leaned back, letting his head rest against the stone wall behind him, his mind swirling in an endless loop of the teasing, the newspaper headline, and the cruel laughter that had echoed in the halls of Hogwarts.
"Slytherin Queen..." he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching as his mind replayed the whispers, the taunts, the jokes. The image of himself plastered across the front page of the Hogwarts Herald was burned into his memory, his face turned into a joke for the entire school to mock. The words "King and Queen" twisted in his chest, gnawing at his already fragile sense of dignity.
His thoughts turned to Lan Xichen. The one person who had offered him a bit of solace, a kind word, an admiring smile amidst all the chaos. Qing Yi’s heart clenched at the memory of their conversation earlier.
"Qing Yi, I admire you as a person and a fellow student. There are qualities about you that I truly like." Lan Xichen’s words echoed in his mind, filling his chest with a bittersweet warmth. Lan Xichen liked certain qualities about him—his spirit, his determination. But that was all, wasn’t it?
Qing Yi’s lips trembled slightly as he stared down at his hands, his vision blurring with the tears welling up in his eyes. He only sees me as another student, as someone younger he looks after, he thought bitterly. He’s just being kind because he’s older, and it’s what older brothers do. That’s all.
He blinked, his heart tightening in his chest as a tear escaped and trailed down his cheek. I’m so stupid, thinking there could be more... His thoughts spiraled downward. There’s no way he’d ever like me... I’m not a girl... I’m just... me.
The words stung, and before he could stop himself, he wiped angrily at his eyes, cursing his own foolishness for getting his hopes up. Why would Lan Xichen like you? he thought harshly. You're not what he’s into… you’re not what he’d ever want.
He swallowed hard, more tears threatening to spill. His heart ached, each breath a painful reminder of the rejection he felt. He couldn’t shake the image of Lan Xichen being kind out of obligation, not because he truly felt anything more.
As Qing Yi’s emotions churned, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He barely had time to collect himself before a familiar, unpleasant voice cut through the quiet, shattering the brief peace he had found.
"Well, well, look who we have here," Wen Chao sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Is her highness sulking because your precious King Jin Zixuan didn’t bother to show you any attention today?"
Qing Yi’s head snapped up, his heart sinking as he saw Wen Chao strutting toward him, his trademark smirk plastered on his face. The mocking gleam in his eyes sent a wave of disgust washing over Qing Yi.
Anger flared in Qing Yi's emerald eyes, sharp and dangerous. Wen Chao's face was a cold reminder of the humiliation splashed across the school newspaper. Qing Yi's hands clenched into fists, his voice low and controlled, but trembling with barely suppressed rage.
"I'm in a foul mood, Wen Chao," he growled. "If you don't have anything worthwhile to say, I suggest you take your doxy-brained self out of here before I lose what little patience I have left."
Wen Chao's eyes lit up with malicious glee. He'd finally gotten under Qing Yi's skin, and the satisfaction was palpable. "Ooh, I'm quaking in my boots," he taunted. "What's Her Highness going to do? Hex me with her perfectly manicured wand?"
That was the last straw. In a flash, Qing Yi was on his feet, his wand pointed directly at Wen Chao's throat. The speed of his movement caught Wen Chao off guard, forcing him to stumble back a few steps. Despite this, the smirk never left his face.
"What are you going to do, Koh?" Wen Chao goaded. "Give me a pig's snout and snap my wand again? You know that won't do you any favors."
With a flourish, Wen Chao reached into his pocket, pulling out a small photograph. He held it up triumphantly, a grin stretching across his face.
Qing Yi’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the image—himself and Lan Xichen, locked in that brief, emotional embrace from earlier. His heart dropped as the realization hit him like a tidal wave. His grip on his wand loosened slightly, and he lowered it, his pulse pounding in his ears.
"That's right," Wen Chao purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "One wrong move against me, and a whole new set of headlines will be plastered all over Hogwarts. Can you imagine? '‘Slytherin’s Ice Queen Ditches His Fiery Gryffindor King for the Cool Embrace of Ravenclaw’s Prefect.' Poor Lan Xichen, scion of the most influential wizarding family, embroiled in such scandalous rumors. Who knows what kind of stories might spread about the two of you?"
Qing Yi’s hands trembled as he lowered his wand completely, his mind racing. He hated Wen Chao. He hated the smug look on his face, hated the way he could manipulate situations so easily. But the thought of Lan Xichen getting caught in the crossfire of this mess—Qing Yi couldn’t bear it.
Wen Chao’s smirk grew even wider as he pocketed the photograph, clearly relishing the power he thought he had over Qing Yi. "So what’s it going to be, Koh? Keep your little temper in check, or let the whole school—and the wizarding world—find out just how close you and Lan Xichen really are?"
Suddenly, something snapped inside Qing Yi. The absurdity of the situation, the pain of his unrequited feelings, and the sheer audacity of Wen Chao's assumptions all came crashing down at once. Before he knew it, a laugh burst from his lips, starting as a chuckle and growing into a full-bodied guffaw that echoed through the courtyard.
Wen Chao's smug expression faltered, replaced by confusion. "What's so funny, Koh?" he demanded, but Qing Yi couldn't stop laughing.
Not far away, Lan Xichen moved through the corridors, his thoughts consumed by Qing Yi. The weight of their conversation that morning had lingered heavily on his heart, his concern deepening with each passing hour. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was troubling Qing Yi—more than just the teasing that had plagued him all day. As he continued his search, Lan Xichen hoped to find him soon, to offer some comfort, or at least a chance to talk things through.
Then, a sound caught his attention. Laughter. But it wasn’t the kind of light, carefree laughter he was hoping for—it was sharp, almost manic, like someone on the verge of breaking. Lan Xichen’s chest tightened as he realized it was Qing Yi. Something was wrong.
He quickened his pace, following the sound. When he finally rounded the corner into the courtyard, the sight stopped him in his tracks. Qing Yi was laughing hysterically, tears forming in his eyes, his expression a chaotic mix of frustration and exhaustion, while Wen Chao stood there, looking utterly bewildered. Lan Xichen’s heart sank. Something felt off, this wasn’t a joyful laugh, but one that hinted at the breaking point, a desperate release of emotion.
Qing Yi’s laughter slowly eased, tapering off into a sharp breath as he regained just enough control to speak. A cold, mocking sneer curled at the corner of his lips.
“Wen Chao, how fucking stupid are you? Do you actually believe your own bullshit?” His voice was laced with venom, eyes flashing with a dangerous edge.
“Two guys hugging, and your pitiful little brain jumps straight to ‘they must be in love’? Is that all you’ve got going on up there?” He tapped the side of his head mockingly. “Maybe you're the one with the 'questionable' interests here."
Wen Chao’s face twisted with rage, "You little—” , but before he could speak any further, Qing Yi cut him off, his voice now like ice.
“You’re so fucking pathetic. You come at me with these cheap threats, thinking you’ve got something on me? Please, I wouldn’t touch you or Jin Zixuan if my life depended on it. Or Lan Xichen, for that matter.”
Wen Chao’s smirk vanished, replaced by anger, but Qing Yi wasn’t finished. His emotions were pouring out, too fast to stop now.
“What is it with you rich, entitled assholes? Do you really think the whole world revolves around you? That everyone’s dying to fall at your feet? Newsflash, I wouldn’t come near any of you if you were the last people on earth.”
Qing Yi jabbed his finger at Wen Chao, his voice dripping with disdain. “You, especially. You make my skin crawl. Just looking at your face makes me want to vomit.”
“And Jin Zixuan?” Qing Yi scoffed bitterly. “He’s nothing but a spoiled, overgrown toddler who thinks he’s hot shit just because daddy's got connections. You think I want to be with someone like him? Or even Lan Xichen? You’re all so full of yourselves, I don’t know how you can stand to look in the mirror every day.”
He took a breath, his voice rising with fury. "Lan Xichen has half the school drooling over him. He can have his pick of the simpering idiots who swoon over him – the thought alone makes me want to vomit slugs for a week. And you think I care about throwing myself in that mix? Spare me the drama. All your precious, 'esteemed pure-blood' families are just another reason to stay as far away from people like you as possible."
Wen Chao was livid, his face flushed with anger, but Qing Yi wasn’t done. “So get this through your thick skull, Wen—whatever twisted little game you’re playing, it’s not going to work on me. And if you think that picture’s going to scare me, you’re even dumber than I thought.”
Wen Chao’s smirk faltered, Qing Yi’s words hitting deeper than he cared to admit. His face, once filled with self-satisfaction, now showed a flicker of uncertainty. He clenched his fists, refusing to back down despite the sting.
“Oh yeah…? Well then… just you wait, Koh! I’ll… I’ll make this so bad you won’t even be able to show your face at Hogwarts anymore!”
Qing Yi, still furious, burst into bitter laughter. “Go ahead! Do your worst, Wen! You think I give a shit at this point?” He stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. “But let’s be real here—do you really think you can lay a finger on Lan Xichen? You don’t think his family will come down on you like a curse if you try to drag their precious son through the mud? Go ahead, print your little story. See how long you last once the Lan family gets wind of it."
Wen Chao’s eyes widened as the reality of Qing Yi’s words sank in. The little prick was right. The Lan family’s reputation was untouchable, and if he pushed too far, he might end up with a lot more trouble than he bargained for. His confidence wavered, and for the first time, he hesitated. “You… you—” he stammered, unable to come up with a proper retort, the blow to his ego leaving him scrambling for words.
The defeated look on Wen Chao’s face was enough to tell Qing Yi that he’d won this round. “Go on,” Qing Yi sneered. “Run back to your precious daddy. I’m sure he’ll clean up your mess like always. Maybe he can teach you how to actually fight your own battles instead of hiding behind cheap threats.”
Wen Chao’s eyes flared with anger, his pride bruised and his patience finally snapping. The hurt from Qing Yi's insults, combined with his own frustrations, boiled over. His hand shot to his wand, and with a furious snarl, he pointed it directly at Qing Yi.
"Alright, you little shit!" Wen Chao spat, his voice shaking with rage. "You've gone too far this time! Time to teach you some respect—something you sorely lack!"
Qing Yi's expression darkened. His hand reached for his own wand, pointing it right back at Wen Chao without hesitation. The storm brewing inside him was now a full-blown hurricane, and a fight might be exactly what he needed to release some of the anger tearing him apart.
"Respect isn't a birthright, Wen," he sneered. "It's earned. And you've done nothing but prove you're an overgrown, entitled bully. Come on then, show me what you've got – if you can manage without daddy holding your hand."
The tension between them crackled in the air, their wands raised, the courtyard filled with the heavy silence of impending conflict. Just as the first spell seemed inevitable, a calm yet firm voice cut through the tension.
"That's quite enough. Both of you, lower your wands. Now."
Lan Xichen’s steady tone brought both boys to a sudden halt. He stepped forward, his presence commanding, though his voice was gentle as ever.
Qing Yi’s eyes widened in shock. His wand wavered slightly as he turned to face Lan Xichen, his voice barely a whisper. “Senior Lan…”
For a moment, Qing Yi was frozen, his mind racing. How long had Lan Xichen been there? Had he heard everything? But before he could dwell on that, the anger that had been burning in him moments before resurfaced, pulling him back to the present.
Wen Chao, still fuming, clenched his jaw but knew better than to challenge Lan Xichen directly. The frustration and bitterness from Qing Yi’s harsh words were clear in his eyes, but he lowered his wand and took a step back.
With a final venomous glare at Qing Yi, Wen Chao spat, “This isn’t over, Koh.” He turned sharply and walked away, his retreat marked by a tense silence.
Qing Yi’s gaze followed Wen Chao until he disappeared from view, his heart still pounding with residual anger. Slowly, he lowered his wand and tucked it away. He moved to gather his books from the bench, the courtyard now heavy with awkward silence between him and Lan Xichen.
Lan Xichen, clearly troubled by everything he had witnessed and heard, finally broke the silence. “Qing Yi…”
But Qing Yi cut him off, his voice cold and distant. "Senior Lan, if you don’t mind, I'd rather not speak with anyone right now." He brushed past Lan Xichen, pausing only to add, "I apologize for the disturbance. Good evening."
Without waiting for a response, Qing Yi strode toward the open corridor, his figure retreating into the distance, leaving Lan Xichen alone in the courtyard.
Lan Xichen stood rooted to the spot, an ache deep in his chest as the full weight of Qing Yi's earlier outburst truly hit him. The harsh words Qing Yi had thrown at Wen Chao, the ones about him and his family, still echoed in his mind. Each one felt like a dagger, cutting deeper with every repetition.
His chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. The boy he cared for so deeply had just torn him apart without even realizing he was there. Lan Xichen's usually serene face was a mask of shock and hurt, his brown eyes reflecting his inner turmoil.
He had never imagined that Qing Yi could feel so distant from him, so hurt and full of anger. The rejection stung, not just because of what Qing Yi had said about him personally, but because he realized how much he truly wanted to be there for him.
A wave of regret washed over him. Had his decision backfired so spectacularly? His own well-intentioned words, meant to protect and nurture, had inadvertently caused this pain. The realization that he had hurt Qing Yi so deeply, however unintentionally, left Lan Xichen feeling hollow and lost.
Lan Xichen clenched his fists, struggling to push down the growing pain in his chest. Qing Yi's anger wasn't just directed at Wen Chao; it was directed at him too. Every word Qing Yi had spoken about not wanting to be near him felt like a blow, each one cutting deeper than the last.
As he stood alone in the darkening courtyard, Lan Xichen grappled with the consequences of his choices. The path forward, once so clear in his mind, now seemed fraught with challenges he wasn't sure how to overcome.
****