Holiday Plans and Hermione

More than a month had passed since Ravenclaw's victory over Hufflepuff, and the Christmas the young wizards had long been awaiting was fast approaching.

One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts awoke from its slumber to find everything blanketed in several feet of snow, while the lake had frozen solid.

The Weasley twins were punished for enchanting several snowballs to chase Quirinus Quirrell around and smash into the back of his turban.

Ye Ting knew what was wrapped inside that turban—Voldemort's disgusting, ugly face.

Voldemort had parasitized the poor Professor Quirrell, his face appearing on the back of Quirrell's bald head.

To conceal all this, Professor Quirrell had no choice but to wear that strange turban and use the smell of garlic to mask Voldemort's rotten stench—a smell that had not escaped Feiju's sensitive nose. From then on, she would keep far away whenever she saw Professor Quirrell.

Several owls flew through the snowy skies to deliver mail. After enduring countless hardships, they had to recover their strength under Hagrid's care before they could take flight again.

Everyone could hardly wait for the holidays.

Although roaring fires burned in Ravenclaw's common room and the Great Hall, the drafty corridors had become bitterly cold, and the classroom windows rattled under the biting wind.

Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes, all held in underground classrooms. Every breath formed a cloud of white mist before them, leaving them no choice but to huddle close to their steaming cauldrons.

Recently, Professor Snape had often flown into rages during Potions class, and his oppressive presence caused every young wizard's potion experiments to go wrong again and again.

"Someone has stolen precious ingredients from my storeroom." During one Potions class, Snape raged at them. "I believe the thief is among you. If I find out who it is, I'll tie them to the Whomping Willow."

Many young wizards celebrated at the news. They considered whoever had stolen Snape's ingredients a true hero, especially the little lions of Gryffindor, further intensifying the conflict between them and Slytherin.

"I really feel sorry for those people," Draco Malfoy said during one Potions class. "They have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because their families don't want them."

As he spoke, his eyes were fixed on Harry.

Crabbe and Goyle snickered nearby. But those who truly knew Malfoy understood that his words were really mocking someone else—the person Malfoy envied and resented, yet could never hope to reach.

Ye Ting had lived in the south throughout his previous life, so he had not experienced many truly cold winters.

In this life, he had lived in London for ten years, and only then had he experienced winters with snow.

However, unlike Malfoy believed, he would not be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas.

This Christmas holiday, he planned to find a way to visit Russia—oh, at this time it was still called the Soviet Union—make a fortune, then take part of it to Gringotts and exchange it for Galleons. That way, he would have enough money to buy experimental materials in Diagon Alley.

As for how he could make money in the Soviet Union?

The answer was simple. On December 25, 1991, a far-reaching historical event would take place in Eastern Europe: the Dissolution of the Soviet Union—take note, this will be on the test.

Hogwarts holidays were different from those of secondary schools. Aside from summer vacation, they also had breaks of around twenty days at Christmas and Easter, with the Christmas holiday beginning in mid-December.

So, he had enough time to carry out a series of operations before the Dissolution of the Soviet Union.

However, before the holiday began, Ye Ting still had to deal with a small problem from Hermione.

Ever since Hagrid had let it slip last time, Hermione had been very concerned about the name Nicolas Flamel. Whenever she had free time, she would browse through all sorts of history books and biographies in the library, hoping to find something.

However, despite having looked through nearly a hundred books, including Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, Directory of Notable Contemporary Magical Practitioners, Significant Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of the Development of Modern Witchcraft, not a single one mentioned the name Nicolas Flamel.

After doing enough fruitless work, she finally became discouraged and turned to seek help from the "all-powerful" Ye Ting.

"Hey, Ye Ting, help me out," she pleaded. "I've practically searched the entire library, but I still can't find this name."

"Oh, Nicolas Flamel again." Ye Ting shook his head helplessly. "You still haven't given up? You've spent too much time on this."

"I'm sorry." Hermione lowered her head somewhat guiltily, then grabbed Ye Ting's sleeve and gently shook it. "Please, Ye Ting, help me. At least tell me who Nicolas Flamel is. You definitely know who he is, right?"

Whoa, when did Hermione learn how to act cute? This was way too strange.

Was this still the stubborn, competitive Hermione Granger?

Though he was frantically mocking her in his heart, when the usually proud Hermione truly set aside her pride and acted cute while asking Ye Ting for help, he still wavered.

Honestly, faced with a little girl's adorable face, watery eyes, and pitiful expression, who could remain unmoved?

At that moment, Ye Ting shamelessly cast aside his principles and gave Hermione a thorough introduction to Nicolas Flamel and his many achievements—he had originally intended to keep her in suspense and tell her only after the holiday was over.

However, his actions were immediately rewarded.

His cheek suddenly felt something moist and soft, accompanied by the sweet, refreshing scent of a girl.

Caught completely off guard, Ye Ting was kissed on the cheek by Hermione.

"It doesn't mean anything. Consider it a reward." After leaving those words behind, Hermione tried to flee at once, but Ye Ting easily caught hold of her.

"You've got some nerve, stealing a kiss from me." Ye Ting pretended to be angry, wanting to tease the girl.

"I-I kissed you, so what? What are you going to do about it?" Hermione's little face turned bright red. She lowered her head, not daring to look at him.

The act of taking the initiative to kiss Ye Ting on the cheek had already exhausted all her courage.

Ye Ting smiled smugly, lifted her chin with a finger, and put on the air of a young rogue.

"Since you dared to kiss me first, you have to pay the price. I'm going to kiss you back ten times over."

After saying that, he eagerly waited for Hermione's reaction.

Who would have thought that Hermione did not resist at all? Instead, she stammered, "Y-you can kiss me if you want."

After saying that, she closed her eyes and lifted her head, looking as though she were calmly facing death.

That reaction left Ye Ting at a loss for what to do.

By all rights, given Hermione's personality, when Ye Ting teased her like this, she should either have flown into a rage or been too embarrassed to speak. But now...

Whatever. She had practically delivered herself to him, so what was there to hesitate about?

For a time, in this quiet corner of the library, only the two of them remained, their breathing slightly heavy.