Fries, Stars, and Sparks on Fingertips

The small shop on the corner, called "Old Jack's Fish and Chips," had a modest front. The red-and-white checkered plastic tablecloths still bore traces of grease, and the air was thick with the tempting scent of oil and salt. Lynn used the few coins left in his pocket to buy the largest portion of chips. The golden fries were piled up like a small mountain, steaming hot.

He and Hermione sat side by side on high stools by the window. The indoor warmth had misted the glass with a thin layer of condensation, blurring the wet street outside into a flowing gray-green smear.

"Here, careful, it's hot." Lynn pushed the paper cone of chips toward Hermione and thoughtfully handed her a small packet of ketchup and a few rough napkins.

"Thanks," Hermione said softly, her eyes sparkling as she stared at the mountain of chips before her. She carefully picked one up with two fingers, blew on it, then bit down with a crunch. A satisfied expression immediately spread across her small face, her cheeks puffing out like a little squirrel's. The earlier fright and grievance seemed completely dispelled by this simple, warm food.

Watching her eat happily, a warm current surged in Lynn's own heart. He picked up a chip, dipped it in a bit of salt, and ate slowly, his gaze falling on the schoolbag resting on Hermione's lap. That copy of Basic Charms and Introductory Magical Theory was lying safely inside—they had gone back to the library and, luckily, found it tucked away in a corner of a bench in the children's section.

"That book," Lynn began casually, pointing at her bag, "Basic Charms... sounds pretty profound. Did your dad borrow it?" He tried to make his tone sound merely curious, not probing.

Hermione swallowed the chip in her mouth and nodded, her eyes shimmering with a mix of excitement and mystery. "Mm! Even though Dad's a dentist, he used to work at the University of London library years ago. He can always find some special books." She lowered her voice, leaning forward slightly as if sharing a huge secret. "This book... the things in it are really strange, but they also seem... real?"

"Oh? Like what?" Lynn prompted, his heart beating a little faster.

"Well..." Hermione furrowed her cute little brows, struggling to organize her words. "Like, it says there's an invisible force in the world that can affect reality through specific... um... 'guidance methods' and strong willpower. It also says this force is especially obvious in some ancient families... like a hereditary talent." She paused, looking a bit embarrassed as she glanced at Lynn. "I know it sounds silly, like a fairy tale."

"Not silly at all." Lynn shook his head immediately, his expression serious. "Isn't science always exploring the unknown? Before Newton was hit by the apple, gravity was invisible and intangible too. Maybe this force you're talking about is just something we haven't found the right 'apple' to prove yet." He used the logic and scientific thinking she had understood earlier to draw an analogy, and Hermione's eyes lit up instantly.

"You think so too?" she asked in surprise, as if she had found a kindred spirit. "I knew it! The book also talks about some weird symbols and gestures, and some hard-to-pronounce... um, like incantations? But unfortunately, I tried a few times, and nothing happened." She poked at her chips a little dejectedly.

Lynn understood in his heart. At this age, Hermione had already started actively seeking out and learning knowledge beyond her understanding, but she just lacked real guidance. He smiled reassuringly. "Maybe it's just not the right time yet, or you're missing a key 'key'? Like when we solve puzzles—sometimes we get stuck one step short."

"Key..." Hermione repeated the word thoughtfully, her brown eyes full of curiosity.

Outside the window, the rain began to patter down again. The two ate their chips in quiet, and occasionally Hermione would point at something interesting outside—a sparrow hopping in the rain, or a red double-decker bus splashing through puddles. Lynn responded patiently, sharing little tidbits he knew about London, even deftly picking up a chip with chopsticks (a habit he had deliberately kept from the orphanage kitchen), which drew Hermione's amazed gaze and a request to try.

"These are way easier to use than forks!" After a few clumsy attempts, Hermione finally managed to pick up a chip and laughed happily, her earlier frustration completely gone. The small table was filled with a light and cheerful atmosphere.

The chips were soon finished. Hermione glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall and said reluctantly, "I should go home. Mom and Dad will worry."

"I'll walk you to the corner," Lynn said, standing up and naturally picking up Hermione's schoolbag. It was heavier than it looked, stuffed full of books.

The rain was fine and dense, carrying a chill. Lynn held up his somewhat worn black umbrella, trying to tilt it more toward Hermione. The two walked side by side on the wet pavement, forming a small, warm, dry world under the umbrella. Hermione hugged her recovered Basic Charms, her steps much lighter.

"Lynn," Hermione suddenly looked up. The rain-washed sky was gray, but her eyes were startlingly bright. "Do you think... there's magic on the stars too?"

"Huh?" Lynn looked down at her.

"That book mentioned that some ancient wise men believed the arrangement and movement of the stars held immense energy and secrets, and could even affect the 'magical tides' on earth," Hermione said, her tone full of longing. "If only we could fly up to the stars one day and see."

The child's innocent words, like a pebble thrown into the lake of his heart, instantly stirred up the strange sensation Lynn had felt at the library entrance—the electric hum when his fingertips touched the deep blue, star-covered book, and the faint spark within him.

"Maybe... you don't have to fly that far." Lynn's voice was a little distant. His gaze involuntarily drifted toward the library again. That mysterious book, abandoned on the lost-and-found shelf, tugged at his thoughts like a magnet. "Some secrets might be right beside us, just needing a pair of eyes to see them," he said meaningfully.

Hermione nodded, half-understanding, her small hand unconsciously stroking the cover of the book in her arms.

Soon, they reached the street corner where Hermione's house was. A neat, red-brick terraced house appeared ahead, warm yellow light spilling from the windows, looking especially cozy.

"My home is just ahead." Hermione stopped, taking her schoolbag from Lynn. Her small face showed sincere gratitude and a hint of reluctance. "Thank you so much for today, Lynn. For helping me chase off those bullies, for treating me to chips, and for... for chatting with me." She paused, as if gathering courage, then said quickly, "You're the most interesting friend I've ever met!"

"It's my honor to be a friend of Miss Hermione Granger," Lynn said with a smile, bending slightly in an exaggerated but good-natured gentlemanly bow.

Hermione burst out laughing, her giggles like clear silver bells, dispelling the gloom of the rainy day. "Then... tomorrow afternoon, the library?" she asked, full of anticipation.

"Of course." Lynn nodded without hesitation. "Same place?"

"Mm! Same place!" Hermione nodded vigorously, a big smile blooming on her face. Then, hugging her schoolbag, she turned and ran like a happy little deer toward the warmly lit door. At the entrance, she turned back and waved hard at Lynn.

Lynn waved back, smiling, and only turned to leave after he saw her safely inside. Under the umbrella, he was alone. The warmth and laughter of moments ago faded, replaced by a deeper sense of loneliness and a fierce craving for that mysterious book. That book... what was it, really? Why had it reacted to his touch like that? And what did that "spark" inside him mean?

Almost driven by an instinctive impulse, Lynn's feet involuntarily turned back toward the community library. The rain seemed heavier now, drumming densely against the umbrella. His heart was also racing, a mix of tension, anticipation, and a hint of fear of the unknown.

Pushing open the library's heavy wooden door, the familiar warmth and scent of books washed over him. The afternoon bustle had faded, leaving only a few scattered readers. Lynn's eyes immediately went to the inconspicuous lost-and-found wooden shelf by the entrance.

The book was still there!

The deep blue cover seemed to glow faintly in the dim corner. The silver star patterns shimmered with barely perceptible flecks of light. Lynn's heart pounded like a drum. He took a deep breath, suppressing the tremor in his fingertips, and walked over step by step.

It was quiet around him, only the faint sound of the librarian tidying books in the distance. Lynn stood before the shelf, holding his breath, and reached out again. This time, he didn't hesitate. His fingers firmly, slowly, touched the cool, damp cover.

Buzz—

Clearer than before! Stronger!

That strange electric sensation exploded from his fingertips instantly, like countless tiny silver needles racing up the nerve pathways of his arm, straight to the top of his head! His brain felt like a flashbang had gone off inside it. After a momentary blank, countless indescribable, fragmented, ancient syllables roared, swirled, and whispered in the depths of his consciousness! They were formless, yet carried an indescribable rhythm and power. At the same time, the faint "spark" inside him flared up violently! A weak but real current of warmth, like a woken stream, gushed from the area of his heart, flowing through his limbs in an instant, driving away the rain's chill and bringing a strange, powerful warmth.

Lynn yanked his hand back, staggering a step backward uncontrollably, bumping into a bookshelf behind him with a soft thud. He gasped for breath, fine sweat beading on his forehead, his face a little pale. The sensation from that moment was too overwhelming! It wasn't an illusion! Definitely not!

He looked down at his palm, his fingertips still tingling with that electric numbness. The warmth inside him quickly subsided, but that "spark" seemed a little brighter than before, and a bit more stable.

"Sir? Are you alright?" A gentle voice sounded beside him. It was the librarian, an elderly woman with gold-rimmed glasses and graying hair, looking at him with concern.

"I'm... I'm fine." Lynn quickly straightened up, trying to steady his breathing and racing heart, forcing a smile. "Just slipped a little."

"Be careful, the floor's slippery in the rain." The woman nodded. Her gaze swept over the spot he had touched—that deep blue book—and her eyes seemed to flicker with a hint of understanding, or perhaps just ordinary concern. "That book's been on the lost-and-found shelf for almost a week, and no one's claimed it. The cover's quite special, isn't it?"

"Yes... very special." Lynn's voice was still unsteady. He forced himself to look away, not daring to glance at the book again, afraid of stirring up anything else. "Excuse me... could I borrow this book?"

"Of course. Items in lost and found can be borrowed if someone's interested and willing to take good care of them, after registering." The woman walked behind the counter and took out a registration log. "Please write down your name and contact information."

Lynn picked up the pen, his fingers still trembling slightly from the lingering excitement. He wrote neatly: "Lynn Li, Oak House Orphanage."

"Lynn Li..." The woman murmured the name softly, made a note in the log, then carefully picked up the deep blue book from the lost-and-found shelf, wiping off the residual water stains on the cover with a clean soft cloth before solemnly handing it to Lynn. "Please take good care of it. This book... looks like it's quite old."

"I will. Thank you very much." Lynn took the book with both hands. It was slightly heavy in his hands. The cover was a leathery material with a fine grain, unlike anything he had ever touched before. It felt cool to the touch, yet faintly warm. The silver star patterns looked even more mysterious under the light, as if they were slowly shifting. This time, when his fingers fully contacted the cover, that intense electric sensation and hum did not reappear. Only an extremely faint vibration, like the pulse of something sleeping, came from deep within the pages, faintly resonating with the steady spark burning inside him.

"What's its name?" Lynn couldn't help asking, his eyes fixed on the cover, where there was no text or title.

The old woman shook her head with a faint smile. "It had no name tag when it arrived. Perhaps... it doesn't need one. Knowledge itself is its soul."

Lynn hugged the nameless deep-blue book, its cover branded with stars, tightly to his chest—like a treasure lost and found. The cold cover pressed against his chest, and that faint yet steady sense of resonance oddly dispelled the chill of the library's exterior and the loneliness within him.

He bid the librarian farewell, raised his umbrella, and stepped back into the rain. The raindrops drumming on the umbrella's surface seemed to sound different now. He glanced down at the book in his arms, then up at the gray, overcast sky, as if he could pierce through the clouds and see the stars Hermione yearned for, hidden beyond.

In this 1991 London dusk, shrouded in rain and mist, Lynn Li's world had been utterly rerouted by a girl named Hermione Granger and a book called the Nameless Star Book. The strange power lingering at his fingertips, the tiny spark burning within him, the silent, mysterious vessel of knowledge in his arms... all of it silently proclaimed: magic was no longer a distant legend, but a reality within his grasp, the torrent of fate he was about to step into. And the starting point of this path lay in tomorrow afternoon's library, under the gaze of those brown eyes, brimming with wisdom and anticipation.