Chapter 23
Potion-crossed Sweethearts (Part 5)
Professor Mei strode into the room, a stack of ancient-looking books tucked under her arm. She was a tall woman, with sharp eyes that could easily silence a room with a single glance.
“Alright, class, today we’re covering dangerous magical creatures and plants you’ll need to know how to defend yourselves against.”
She waved her wand, and the board filled with images of dark creatures and various venomous plants that had been known to kill witches and wizards who weren’t prepared.
“As you can see,” she gestured to the illustrations, “there are numerous creatures that can attack using both physical force and magical means. Acromantulas, Dementors, and even more obscure entities like the Nundu . And don’t think the plant world is any safer. Devil’s Snare, Venomous Tentacula —these aren’t your everyday herbs.”
She paused, letting the gravity of the lesson sink in. “We’ll also be discussing countermeasures. For creatures, your best defense might be a Patronus or well-timed spell, like Stupefy or Impedimenta . For plants, various potions and tonics can save your life, but knowing what you’re dealing with is half the battle.”
As the lesson continued, Qing Yi leaned over to Nie Huaisang, lowering his voice. "Huaisang, I've got a plan for the dance. It's... well, it's pretty wild."
Nie Huaisang's eyebrows shot up, his fan fluttering in anticipation. "Oh? Do tell, Your Highness. What royal decree are you planning to issue?"
Qing Yi rolled his eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. He quickly filled Nie Huaisang in on his conversation with his mother and the idea to fully embrace the 'Fall Queen' title, including wearing his mother's emerald dress.
Nie Huaisang's eyes widened with each word, his fan moving faster as if to cool his overheating brain. "Are you sure about this?" he hissed, concern evident in his voice. "It sounds riskier than trying to tickle a sleeping dragon!"
Qing Yi nodded, his voice steady. “I think it can, as long as I’ve got the support. If you believe in me and stand by me, I know we can pull this off.”
Nie Huaisang paused, considering the plan, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “So, does that mean... we need to get everyone to vote for you?”
Qing Yi rolled his eyes, his tone playful. “No need. I’m pretty sure most people already did... just to make fun of me.”
Just then, Wei Wuxian, sitting directly in front of them, turned around with a grin. “Hold on, are we planning to make Qing Yi the Fall Queen?” he asked, his voice dripping with playful curiosity. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”
Jiang Cheng, who had been eavesdropping, also turned around, arms crossed. “Yeah, about that... Wei Wuxian and I may have... sabotaged your whole voting dock.”
Qing Yi blinked, caught off guard. “Wait... what?”
Wei Wuxian chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, we figured you wouldn’t want to win a title that started as a joke at your expense, so... we might have destroyed all the ballots.”
Qing Yi stared at them for a moment, a mix of surprise and gratitude crossing his face. His emerald eyes softened, touched by his friends' unexpected gesture of protection.
"I didn't expect that," he said softly. A warm smile spread across his lips, appreciation evident in his voice. "Thanks, guys. But you know, it's not really about winning anyway."
Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng exchanged puzzled looks. “Then what is it about?” Jiang Cheng asked, his tone genuinely confused.
Qing Yi's smile turned enigmatic. "You'll see at the dance. Let's just say, it's about more than just a fancy title and a sparkly crown."
Wei Wuxian's eyes narrowed mischievously, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He exchanged a quick glance with Jiang Cheng, who mirrored his expression of amused curiosity. "Why the suspense, Your Highness?" Wei Wuxian drawled, leaning forward. "Can't bear to share your royal secrets with us commoners?"
Qing Yi's emerald eyes sparkled with a mix of anticipation and secrecy. A sly smile played on his lips as he replied, "Patience is a virtue, even for jesters like you two. For now, let's just say that every vote cast my way is another jewel in my crown – whether I need them or not."
Nie Huaisang's brow furrowed in concentration, his quill tapping thoughtfully against his chin. Suddenly, his eyes widened with realization. "Wait a second," he whispered urgently, "what about Jin Zixuan? Aren't we forgetting your reluctant better half?"
Qing Yi's head snapped towards Nie Huaisang, his silver hair whipping dramatically. The mention of Jin Zixuan hit him like a rogue bludger – he'd completely forgotten about his unwilling 'king' in all the excitement.
Nie Huaisang pressed on, his voice low but intense. "I mean, he's your running mate, right? If we want this grand plan of yours to work, doesn't he need to be in on it? After all, you can't have a queen without her king... well, in this ridiculous scenario, at least."
Qing Yi's brow furrowed as he considered this unexpected complication. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "You've got a point," he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"A solo queen might not have quite the same impact. I'll corner Jin Zixuan after class and-"
"Mr. Nie, Mr. Koh," Professor Mei's sharp voice cut through their whispered conversation like a severing charm. Her eyes, narrowed in suspicion, bore into them.
"Your enthusiastic discussion seems far more riveting than my lesson on potentially fatal fungi. Care to enlighten the rest of the class?"
Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang shared a panicked look, their faces a matching set of 'caught in the act' expressions. Qing Yi cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"Well, Professor," he began, his voice wavering, "we were just, um, discussing the upcoming dance..."
A wave of snickers rippled through the classroom. "Ooh, what's the royal wardrobe looking like, Your Majesty?" called out a Gryffindor from the back.
"Planning on matching tiaras with Jin Zixuan?" another voice chimed in, eliciting more laughter.
Professor Mei's face hardened, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Silence!" she commanded, her voice cutting through the giggles like a knife.
"This is a classroom, not a fashion show planning committee. Your focus should be on defending against dark arts, not designing ball gowns. Is that clear?"
A chorus of chastened "Yes, Professor" echoed through the room, though a few muffled snickers could still be heard.
As instructed, everyone turned their attention back to the lesson. The images of deadly creatures and plants still flickered on the board as Professor Mei continued her explanations, her sharp eyes scanning the room for any signs of distraction.
As the class drew to a close, Professor Mei announced, "For next Monday, I want a detailed research paper on the Memoriae Edens plant and the Obliviscor creature we discussed today. No less than two feet of parchment."
A collective groan rippled through the room. Zach Finnigan, a Gryffindor with a penchant for pyrotechnics, piped up, "But Professor! The Fall Dance is this weekend! How are we supposed to focus on homework when there's magic in the air?" He waggled his eyebrows dramatically, earning a few chuckles.
Professor Mei raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the outcry. “Then I suggest you finish it before the festivities begin, unless you want to be scrambling to complete it afterward.” Her eyes landed squarely on Qing Yi, as if sensing the teasing and tension he had been dealing with.
With a pointed look, she added, “This project should keep you all busy enough. Instead of wasting your time and energy mocking fellow students, perhaps focusing on your Defense Against the Dark Arts studies will serve you better.”
A few students shifted uncomfortably in their seats as the room fell quiet. When Professor Mei’s gaze landed on Qing Yi, he blinked, surprised by her support. A faint smile tugged at his lips—her words felt like she was quietly looking out for him, and in that moment, it meant more than he expected.
“Dismissed,” Professor Mei said sharply, and the class began gathering their things. As students shuffled out, she called after them, “Mr. Koh, a word, if you please.”
Qing Yi stopped in his tracks, glancing at Nie Huaisang before turning back toward the professor. Professor Mei walked toward him with purposeful strides, her expression calm but curious.
“If I’m not mistaken,” she began, her voice quieter now, “you and Mr. Jin have become the unwilling stars of a rather persistent joke. Am I correct?”
Qing Yi hesitated, feeling a small wave of embarrassment wash over him. He glanced at Nie Huaisang, who stood silently by his side. After a beat, Qing Yi nodded but didn’t say anything.
Professor Mei sighed softly, her keen eyes searching his face. “Well, I can take this up with Headmistress McGonagall if you’d like. If this situation is harming your self-image, perhaps she should be made aware of it.”
Qing Yi, surprised by her offer, quickly shook his head. “No, Professor, it’s alright.”
She raised an eyebrow, her surprise evident. “Alright? Are you sure?”
A small smile tugged at Qing Yi’s lips as he met her gaze. “Yes, Professor. I’m sure. I think... well, I believe my way of handling this situation will work out just fine.”
Professor Mei blinked, taken aback by his response. “Oh? Is that so?” She crossed her arms, still considering him carefully. “Well... alright. But I do think I should inform McGonagall regardless. It wouldn’t hurt for her to be aware.”
Qing Yi nodded, understanding her reasoning, though his confidence remained steady.
Before letting them go, Professor Mei laid a hand on Qing Yi’s shoulder, her expression softening slightly. “If you need anything... don’t hesitate to come to me. I can help minimize this situation if it becomes too much, without drawing any unnecessary attention to you.”
Qing Yi’s eyes widened in surprise at her offer, a flicker of gratitude passing through him. He hadn’t expected such understanding from his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Smiling softly, he nodded. “Thank you, Professor. I appreciate it.”
Professor Mei gave him a nod and then looked toward Nie Huaisang. “Both of you, take care.”
As Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang left the classroom, they exchanged a look of mingled relief and excitement. Nie Huaisang fanned himself dramatically. "Well, that was unexpected. Who knew old Mei had a heart under all that strictness?"
Qing Yi chuckled, feeling lighter than he had in days. "Maybe we're not as alone in this as we thought," he mused, a new sense of determination settling over him. The Fall Dance was going to be interesting, to say the least.
****
Lan Xichen lingered at the edge of the corridor, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his chest. He was reluctant to head to the library and meet the others, knowing Qing Yi would likely be there. The memory of the night before gnawed at him—Qing Yi's angry words echoing in the courtyard, directed at Wen Chao but laced with frustration, even about him. Since then, Qing Yi had avoided him all day, and Lan Xichen figured it wasn’t a coincidence.
He let out a deep sigh, his heart conflicted. He blamed himself for the distance between them. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said I only see him as a friend, Lan Xichen thought bitterly. If he had been clearer about his own feelings, maybe Qing Yi wouldn’t feel so frustrated, wouldn’t be so distant. Lan Xichen’s plan to ask Qing Yi to the dance now seemed laughable, a plan destined to sink before it had even taken shape.
He exhaled again, trying to shake off the growing knot of anxiety in his chest. What do I do now? he wondered, feeling lost. Resigning himself, he stepped into the library, hoping to find some peace in the quietness of the shelves.
To his surprise, the usual table was occupied only by Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang, all deep in conversation. He scanned the room, hoping Qing Yi might be somewhere nearby, but the familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.
Lan Xichen’s curiosity got the better of him. "Huaisang," Lan Xichen asked, trying to keep his voice casual, "where's Qing Yi?"
Nie Huaisang looked up from his parchment, a knowing glint in his eye. "Oh, he went to find Jin Zixuan."
Lan Xichen felt as if he'd been hit by a Stunning Spell. "Jin Zixuan? What for?"
Huaisang sighed dramatically, closing his fan with a snap. "To ask him to accompany him to the dance as his king."
"What?!" Lan Xichen's exclamation was louder than he intended, earning him a stern look from Madam Pince.
At that moment, Lan Wangji appeared, a thick tome tucked under his arm. His usually impassive face showed a flicker of interest. "He's planning to go to the dance with Jin Zixuan?"
Nie Huaisang nodded, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Let me explain. You see, our dear Qing Yi has quite the plan..."
Lan Xichen listened, his mind reeling with surprise and confusion. The idea of Qing Yi willingly embracing the very thing he'd been so upset about seemed incomprehensible. He struggled to understand this sudden change, his thoughts a whirlwind of questions and concerns.
***
Qing Yi's footsteps echoed through the stone corridors of Hogwarts, his silver hair catching the late afternoon light streaming through the windows. His emerald eyes darted back and forth, searching for any sign of Jin Zixuan's unmistakable swagger.
As he entered the Great Hall, the scent of lingering lunch mingled with the musty aroma of old stone. A group of Gryffindors lounged at their table, their red and gold ties loosened after a long day of classes.
Qing Yi approached, plastering on his best 'I'd-rather-be-anywhere-else' expression. "Excuse me," he said, his voice dripping with forced politeness, "but has anyone seen Jin Zixuan? You know, tall, pointy, perpetual look of constipation?"
A burly seventh-year with a mop of curly hair guffawed. "Well, well! If it isn't Her Royal Highness!" He clutched his chest dramatically. "What's the matter, Your Majesty? Lost your king already? Trouble in paradise?"
Qing Yi's eye twitched, but he maintained his cool facade. "Oh yes, I'm absolutely devastated," he deadpanned. "I've been wandering the castle for hours, weeping into my handkerchief. However did you guess?"
The Gryffindors erupted in laughter, some nearly falling off the bench. A petite girl with glasses, trying to stifle her giggles, managed to squeak out, "I... I saw him heading towards the covered bridge earlier. You know, the one overlooking the ravine?"
Qing Yi nodded curtly, already turning on his heel. "Much obliged. I'd curtsy, but I left my ball gown in my other pants."
As he strode away, the sounds of renewed laughter echoed behind him. Qing Yi allowed himself a small smirk. At least someone was entertained by this farce.
The covered bridge creaked ominously under Qing Yi's feet as he approached. There, silhouetted against the fading light, was Jin Zixuan. He was leaning so far over the railing that for a moment, Qing Yi wondered if he was trying to commune with the giant squid in the lake below.
"Contemplating your life's choices, Jin?" Qing Yi called out, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Or just hoping gravity might solve your problems?"
Jin Zixuan whirled around, his hand instinctively reaching for his wand. His face contorted into a scowl that would have curdled milk. "Koh," he spat, as if the name itself left a bad taste in his mouth. "If you don't want a wizard's duel right now, I suggest you leave."
Qing Yi leaned against one of the bridge's wooden posts, examining his nails with feigned disinterest. "As tempting as it is to hex that scowl off your face, I'm here on... business."
Jin Zixuan's eyebrows shot up so high they threatened to disappear into his hairline. "Business? With me? Has the fall dance situation finally driven you mad, Koh?"
"Oh, trust me," Qing Yi retorted, rolling his eyes, "if I had any other option, I'd take it. But it seems fate, and this school's twisted sense of humor, has thrown us together. So, I have a proposition for you."
Jin Zixuan crossed his arms, his curiosity clearly piqued despite his best efforts to look disinterested. "I'm listening. This better be good, Koh."
Qing Yi took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Go to the dance with me. As my king."
Jin Zixuan's jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. "What?" he sputtered, his voice a mix of disbelief and indignation. "And be ridiculed even more? Have you completely lost your mind, Koh?"
He ran a hand through his hair, his face contorting with a mix of emotions. Frustration radiated from him in almost palpable waves as he continued, "As if it's not bad enough already with all the whispers and jokes. Now you want us to walk right into their trap? To give them exactly what they want?"
Jin Zixuan paced back and forth on the bridge, his robes swirling around him. He turned back to Qing Yi, his eyes blazing. "And why in Merlin's name would I agree to this madness? So we can be the laughingstock of the entire school?"
Qing Yi waited for Jin Zixuan's tirade to subside, his emerald eyes never leaving the other boy's face. When Jin Zixuan finally fell silent, breathing heavily, Qing Yi spoke, his voice calm but firm.
"Are you quite finished? Because if you're done catastrophizing, I can explain how this is actually going to work in our favor."
Jin Zixuan's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, clearly waiting for Qing Yi to continue.
Qing Yi took a step closer, his voice low and intense. "Laughingstock or not, Zixuan, the entire school is already making fun of us. But here's the thing - we can turn this situation to our advantage."
He paused, making sure he had Jin Zixuan's full attention. "Instead of continuing to react with anger and disdain, giving them exactly what they expect, we can flip the script. We can show them what a true Gryffindor king would do - face adversity head-on and come out on top."
A sly smile played on Qing Yi's lips as he continued, "Think about it. You have the chance to show everyone how a real leader handles a challenging situation. We can turn their jokes into our triumph. Wouldn't you rather be remembered as the king who owned the situation, rather than the one who hid from it?"
Jin Zixuan’s eyes flickered with something—doubt, perhaps, or maybe the sting of truth—but he kept his scowl firmly in place. “Why should I care? What does any of this matter?”
Qing Yi’s gaze hardened as he took another step forward. His voice was cold, piercing through Jin Zixuan’s facade. “Because if you don’t care, they win. You let them decide how this plays out. You let them laugh at you. But if you walk into that dance and own it, you take away their power. You control the narrative. Isn’t that what you want, Zixuan? To be in control?”
For a moment, Jin Zixuan was silent, the words hanging between them like a challenge. He turned away, staring out at the water again, his jaw clenched tightly.
"Think it over.” Qing Yi said, his voice steady, almost calm. “We'll need to practice our dance tomorrow afternoon if we're doing this. If you don't show up, I'll take it as your answer."
As Qing Yi turned to leave, he couldn't resist one last jab. "Oh, and Zixuan? Try not to fall off the bridge while you're brooding. It would be a shame to lose my king before the grand performance."
With that, Qing Yi strode away, his robes billowing behind him. He left Jin Zixuan alone on the bridge, the Gryffindor's expression a complex mix of annoyance, intrigue, and - though he'd never admit it - a hint of excitement at the prospect of turning the tables on their tormentors.
****
The next day arrived, bringing the Fall Dance ever closer. The hallways of Hogwarts buzzed with excitement, students chatting and nervously asking each other to the dance. As Qing Yi made his way through his classes, there was something different about him—an unusual confidence that surprised even himself. He carried an air of anticipation for the upcoming event, and though the idea of the dance had initially filled him with dread, a strange excitement now simmered just beneath the surface.
As he passed a group of Ravenclaws, he overheard snippets of conversation.
“Have you asked her yet?” one of them nudged his friend playfully.
“Not yet... what if she says no?” the other responded, half-laughing, half-anxious.
Qing Yi chuckled quietly to himself, surprising even his own emotions. He hadn’t expected to feel this... well, energized about the dance, but his mother's words from the day before lingered in his mind. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
When lunchtime rolled around, Qing Yi made his way to the Owlery, where he met up with his sisters, Jing Shi and Jing Xiang. The room was bustling with activity as owls swooped in and out, delivering parcels and letters from across the Wizarding World. The distant coos and flaps of wings created a sense of organized chaos. Qing Yi’s eyes flicked to the window just in time to see a familiar owl soar through, a large parcel tied to its leg.
“There it is,” Qing Yi murmured, his heart racing with a strange mixture of excitement and dread. He wasn’t sure what to expect from his mother’s package, but a part of him was eager to find out.
The owl landed gracefully, dropping the package into his arms. It was larger than he’d imagined. With a glance at his sisters, who watched eagerly, Qing Yi carefully untied the parcel and began to unwrap it. His breath hitched as the fabric came into view—a beautifully crafted emerald gown, shimmering under the afternoon light, accompanied by a pair of delicate silver shoes.
Jing Shi’s eyes widened as she reached out to touch the dress. “Oh, wow,” she whispered, holding the gown up. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
Qing Yi let out a contemplative sigh, his fingers tracing the intricate embroidery on the fabric. "Mom really outdid herself."
Jing Xiang, ever practical, held the dress up against Qing Yi's frame. Her brow furrowed slightly. "It's gorgeous, but... oh dear. Qing Yi, I hate to say this, but we're going to have to squeeze you into a corset."
"A what now?" Qing Yi's eyes widened in horror, his hand instinctively going to his midsection.
"A corset," Jing Xiang repeated, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "You know, that medieval torture device designed to rearrange your internal organs and make your waist look tiny."
Qing Yi groaned, patting his stomach ruefully. "Ugh, I knew those midnight snack sessions with Huaisang would come back to haunt me. Why did I let him talk me into trying every flavor of Bertie Bott's beans?"
Jing Shi snorted, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "Well, maybe it's time to cut back on the pumpkin pasties, little brother. With any luck, the corset will work its magic, and you'll be snatched tighter than Professor McGonagall's bun in no time!"
The three of them headed to the Hufflepuff dormitory to try on the dress in privacy. As they entered the cozy room, Qing Yi eyed the corset with a mixture of dread and curiosity. He had never worn one before, and while he wasn’t thrilled by the idea, there was a part of him that wondered what it would be like.
Jing Xiang wasted no time. She handed Qing Yi the corset and gestured for him to hold onto the bedpost as she began lacing it up.
"Sweet Merlin's saggy - ow!" Qing Yi gasped as Jing Xiang gave a particularly vigorous yank on the laces. "Easy on the torture device! Are you trying to kill me? I'd like to keep my ribs inside my body, thank you very much!"
Jing Xiang rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Don't be such a drama queen. Nobody's ever died from wearing a corset... I think. At least, I haven't read about it in 'Hogwarts: A History'."
Jing Shi, lounging on Jing Xiang's bed and thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, couldn't contain her laughter. "Merlin's beard, Qing Yi! I didn't realize you were hiding such a tiny waist under those robes. And here I thought Jing Xiang was the skinny one!"
Finally laced up tighter than a Gringotts vault, Qing Yi slipped on the gown. For a moment, silence fell over the room as the siblings took in the sight. Then, as if on cue, they burst into peals of laughter.
"By Dumbledore's spectacles," Jing Shi choked out between giggles. "I completely forgot how freakishly tall Mom is! You look like you're drowning in Hagrid's Sunday best!"
Jing Xiang nodded, still laughing as the hem of the dress pooled around Qing Yi’s feet. “Oh, no… this is too good! We’re gonna have to hem it, or you’ll be sweeping the floor the whole night.”
Then, a thought crossed her mind, and she raised an eyebrow. “Wait a second... didn’t Mom wait until her fifth year to undergo her Ceremony of Age?”
The three siblings stared at each other, the same thought striking them simultaneously. Jing Xiang's jaw dropped as she voiced what they were all thinking: "Merlin's pants! Mom was still a bloke when she wore this dress!"
Qing Yi's initial shock melted into a warm glow of admiration. A smile spread across his face, bright enough to light up the Slytherin dungeons on the darkest night. "Wow," he breathed, running his hands over the shimmering fabric with newfound reverence.
"Mom really didn't give two Knuts about what anyone thought, did she? Strutting around in a dress, wizarding society be damned!"
Jing Shi wrapped an arm around his shoulders, her purple eyes soft with pride. "That's our mother, alright. Cunning as a serpent, fierce as a dragon, and twice as fabulous. She's always blazed her own trail, gender norms and stuffy pureblood traditions be damned."
"And that's exactly how you should be, big bro," Jing Xiang added, ruffling his silver hair affectionately. "Channel that Koeh confidence. You've got Mom's spirit, after all. It's practically coursing through your veins, along with all that sugar from those midnight snacks."
Qing Yi straightened up, his emerald eyes blazing with a determination that would have made Godric Gryffindor himself proud. The too-long dress suddenly felt less like an obstacle and more like a badge of honor. "You're right," he declared, voice ringing with newfound purpose. "We're going to make this work. For Mom, for us, and for every wizard who's ever wanted to rock a ballgown!"
Jing Shi pumped her fist in the air, nearly knocking over a nearby plant in her enthusiasm. "That's the spirit! We'll get you that crown if it's the last thing we do. Hogwarts won't know what hit it!"
As the siblings huddled together, plotting and giggling like conspirators, the emerald dress sparkled in the afternoon sun streaming through the Hufflepuff windows. It was more than just a gown now – it was a symbol of defiance, of family legacy, and of the courage to be unapologetically oneself in a world that often demanded conformity.
Qing Yi gazed at his reflection in the mirror, taking in the sight of his silver hair contrasting beautifully with the emerald fabric. For a moment, he could almost see his mother's younger self looking back at him, eyes twinkling with the same mischievous determination. With his sisters by his side and his mother's courage in his heart, he felt ready to take on the world – or at least, the Hogwarts Fall dance.
As they began discussing alterations and accessories, laughter echoing through the cozy Hufflepuff dormitory, Qing Yi knew one thing for certain: this dance was going to be a night to remember, and he was going to make his mother proud, one fabulous step at a time.
****