Chapter Text
Potion-crossed Sweethearts (Part 7)
As the dance practice continued, the Slytherin common room became a cauldron of whispers and hushed commentary, the volume slowly rising like a crescendo in a complex symphony.
A fifth-year girl with sleek black hair leaned against the wall, her eyes never leaving Qing Yi's graceful form. "Look at how he moves," she murmured, her voice tinged with a mixture of admiration and envy. "It's like watching a pureblood lady at a ministry ball. All poise and elegance."
Her friend, a freckled redhead, nodded vigorously, a sly grin spreading across her face like spilled ink. "You're right," she whispered back, her eyes glinting mischievously. "He's perfectly fit for the role of queen, isn't he? Who knew our little Qing Yi had it in him?"
Their hushed conversation was suddenly interrupted by a particularly mean-spirited voice that cut through the chatter like a well-aimed Cutting Curse. "Queen?" sneered a burly sixth-year boy, his face twisted in a cruel smirk. "More like 'drag queen!' He's really living up to his new title, isn't he?"
His words seemed to break a dam of restraint. Laughter erupted from a nearby group of boys, their faces flushed with a mix of embarrassment and cruel amusement. One of them, a lanky Slytherin with sharp features and a perpetual smirk, called out, "Maybe we should transfigure his robes into a ball gown!" His suggestion elicited more snickers, the sound rippling through the crowd like a wave.
"I bet he'd love that," another chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Our very own Slytherin princess! Shall we conjure him a tiara to complete the look?"
The comments spread like wildfire, each one bolder than the last. The initial awe that had settled over the common room quickly gave way to a mix of admiration and mockery. Some students watched with genuine appreciation for Qing Yi's unexpected grace, while others seized the opportunity to tease and jeer.Their eyes glittered with a cruel sort of glee, reveling in the chance to cut down one of their own. It was a stark reminder of the sometimes harsh nature of Slytherin house - a place where weakness, real or perceived, could quickly become a target for ridicule.
Professor Slughorn stood beside the gramophone, his portly figure swaying gently to the music. His eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he watched his students glide across the dance floor, their faces alight with joy and excitement. The soft melody wafted through the air, mingling with the hushed laughter and whispered conversations of the young witches and wizards.
However, as Slughorn's gaze swept across the room, his jovial expression began to falter. His brow furrowed, creating deep creases in his forehead as snippets of conversation reached his ears.
"...moves like a true queen..." "...should transfigure his robes into a ballgown..." "...Slytherin's very own drag queen..."
Each comment was punctuated by snickers and poorly concealed laughter. Slughorn's walrus mustache twitched with growing concern. This was the third time he'd heard such remarks, all seemingly directed at young Qing Yi. A knot of unease began to form in his stomach.
Slughorn's eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, finally settling on a group of students nearby. Their faces were flushed with mirth, eyes darting between Qing Yi on the dance floor and their giggling companions. The Potions Master felt a surge of protective instinct wash over him.
"Now, what's all this commotion about?" Slughorn's voice boomed, cutting through the giggles like a knife. The students jumped, startled by his sudden interjection. "I couldn't help but overhear. What's this business about Qing Yi and queens?"
The group fell silent, their earlier mirth evaporating like spilled Erumpent potion. A few shuffled their feet nervously, while others exchanged uneasy glances. Slughorn could almost see the gears turning in their heads as they scrambled for an explanation.
Finally, a sixth-year girl with long dark hair stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "It's nothing to worry about, Professor," she said, her voice slightly higher than normal. "Just a bit of harmless fun, you know? A little joke among friends."
Slughorn's eyebrows knitted together, his curiosity piqued. "Harmless fun, you say?" He mused, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. As he did so, a memory surfaced - Qing Yi's sharp reaction to a comment about dresses in his last Potions class. The boy's emerald eyes had flashed with hurt and anger, a far cry from someone enjoying 'harmless fun.'
"Well," Slughorn continued, his tone as smooth as well-brewed Butterbeer but with an underlying firmness that made the students stand a little straighter. "Let me remind you all of something important. Jokes, like potions, can have unexpected effects when over brewed. What starts as a light-hearted jest can ferment into something far more potent and damaging. Are we clear on this?"
The students nodded, a chorus of subdued "Yes, Professor"s rippling through the group. Slughorn noticed how some of them couldn't meet his eyes, their faces a mix of shame and lingering amusement. Though he'd managed to quiet the immediate chatter, he couldn't shake the feeling that something more was bubbling beneath the surface.
His gaze drifted back to Qing Yi, who was still gliding across the dance floor with Ming Zhe. The boy's initial tension seemed to have eased, his movements more fluid now. But Slughorn's trained eye caught the slight stiffness in Qing Yi's shoulders, the way his emerald eyes darted nervously around the room between dance steps.
A heavy sigh escaped Slughorn's lips as he made a mental note to keep a closer eye on the situation. 'There's more fermenting here than Amortentia,' he mused, his mind already working on how to address this issue without causing further embarrassment to Qing Yi.
As Head of Slytherin, Slughorn felt a deep responsibility for all his students. He was determined to ensure that the snake pit remained a place of ambition and cunning, not a breeding ground for malice and hurt. With one last concerned glance at Qing Yi, Slughorn resolved to get to the bottom of this 'queen' business, for the sake of house unity and the well-being of one of his most promising young snakes.
As the dance practice finally drew to a close, the Slytherin common room buzzed with excited chatter. Students began to disperse, the free hour granted for dance practice having taken up the last two class periods of the day. Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang made their way out of the dungeons, heading towards the library to work on their Defense Against the Dark Arts research paper.
As they walked, Qing Yi's mind kept drifting back to the end of the dance session. Ming Zhe's words echoed in his thoughts: "Should you find yourself feeling out of place at the dance, don't hesitate to seek me out. I'd be happy to keep you company." The unexpected warmth in Ming Zhe's tone had caught Qing Yi off guard.
"You know," Qing Yi mused aloud, breaking the comfortable silence between him and Nie Huaisang, "Ming Zhe's sudden nice gesture was... unexpected. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."
Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Oh? What exactly did our illustrious Quidditch captain say to leave you so perplexed?"
"He told me that if I felt uncomfortable attending the dance alone, I could seek him out during the event," Qing Yi explained, still sounding a bit bewildered. "It was uncharacteristically thoughtful of him."
Nie Huaisang's eyes flickered with interest, though his expression remained carefully neutral. He nodded slowly, his fan moving in a languid rhythm. "Interesting," he remarked, his tone light but with an undercurrent of thoughtfulness. "Our Quidditch captain seems to be full of surprises. I wonder what brought on this sudden bout of chivalry?"
After a moment's reflection, Qing Yi continued, "You know, Jing Xiang will be accompanying Ming Zhe to the dance. I'm beginning to think spending time with them might not be such a dreadful prospect after all."
He glanced at Nie Huaisang, a faint smile playing on his lips. "And of course, I'll have you and the others there. That should make for a pleasant evening, don't you agree?"
Nie Huaisang nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Absolutely! We'll ensure Your Highness has a night to remember. Shall I fashion a crown for you, my sovereign?"
Qing Yi chuckled, giving Nie Huaisang a playful shove. "Keep that up, and you'll find yourself polishing trophies without magic for a week!"
As they rounded the corner towards the library, Qing Yi suddenly froze mid-step. His eyes widened, fixed on a point ahead of them. Nie Huaisang, caught off guard by the abrupt stop, nearly stumbled.
"Merlin's beard, Qing Yi!" Nie Huaisang exclaimed, steadying himself. "What's got into you?"
But Qing Yi didn't respond. His gaze was locked on two familiar figures approaching from the opposite direction - Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji.
Lan Xichen, hearing Nie Huaisang's question, looked up. His eyes met Qing Yi's, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The air between them suddenly felt thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions.
Qing Yi's heart clenched painfully, the memory of Lan Xichen's rejection washing over him anew. A confusing mix of longing, hurt, and lingering affection swirled within him, making his grip on his books tighten unconsciously. He wanted to look away, but found himself unable to break the gaze.
Lan Xichen's expression was a complex tapestry of emotions. Surprise flickered across his features, quickly followed by a deep-seated guilt. He regretted not being clearer with Qing Yi about his feelings, realizing now how his attempt at protecting the younger student had instead created this painful tension between them. The desire to explain himself warred with the fear of causing more hurt, leaving him caught in an uncomfortable limbo of indecision.
Nie Huaisang, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, called out cheerfully, "Well, if it isn't the illustrious Lan brothers," he said, breaking the silence with bright cheerfulness. "Fancy meeting you in this neck of the castle."
Lan Xichen, composing himself with the poise befitting a Ravenclaw prefect, managed a nod. "Indeed, Huaisang. It's good to see you both." He and Lan Wangji began walking towards Qing Yi and Nie Huaisang, their blue-trimmed robes swishing softly against the stone floor.
Instinctively, Qing Yi took a small step backward, his robes rustling with the movement. The retreat didn't escape Lan Xichen's notice, and a flicker of hurt crossed his face before he masked it. "Hello Qing Yi. How has your day been?" he asked, his voice warm despite the tension.
Nie Huaisang beamed, his carefree demeanor shining through as he replied, "Oh, you know how it is, Xichen-Ge! Just another day of magical mayhem. Professor Slughorn nearly had a fit when my Shrinking Solution turned into a rather aggressive expanding foam. And don't get me started on Transfiguration! I swear, my teacup still had whiskers after I tried turning it back from a mouse."
He chuckled, his carefree energy filling the space around them. “What about you two? Anything exciting happening in Ravenclaw?”
Lan Xichen’s soft smile held a hint of reservation as he responded. “Nothing out of the ordinary—just preparing for the fall dance and trying to keep up with our studies.”
Qing Yi remained silent, his expression troubled despite his efforts to conceal it. Lan Xichen's gaze shifted to him, his tone softening with concern. "And you, Qing Yi? How are you faring with your studies?"
The question made Qing Yi's heart ache even more. He wasn't prepared for this encounter, for the rush of emotions it brought in the middle of the Hogwarts hallway. Struggling to maintain his composure, he managed a strained smile. "Fine, I guess," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on the magical moving paintings behind Lan Xichen rather than meeting his gaze.
Lan Xichen's brow furrowed slightly, clearly sensing Qing Yi's discomfort. But before he could say anything more, a voice rang out from the direction of the moving staircases.
"Koh!"
The group turned to see Jin Zixuan approaching, his Gryffindor robes billowing behind him as he strode towards them. His arrival added another layer of complexity to the already tense atmosphere, drawing curious glances from passing students of all houses.
Jin Zixuan stopped directly in front of Qing Yi, his face stern, but with a subtle softness in his eyes, something almost hidden beneath his usual aloof demeanor. "So," Jin Zixuan began, his voice steady but not without a hint of reluctance, "when do you want to practice that dance?"
The question hung in the air like a charm gone awry, freezing everyone in place. Nie Huaisang’s jaw dropped, his eyes wide in disbelief. Lan Wangji blinked, though he said nothing, his stoic expression unchanging. Lan Xichen, however, visibly tensed, his eyes flickering between Jin Zixuan and Qing Yi. Qing Yi himself snapped out of the emotional turmoil he'd been caught in just moments before. The shock of Jin Zixuan’s unexpected question was enough to pull him from the weight on his heart.
But then, something shifted. A small smile tugged at Qing Yi’s lips. There was relief, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. He was surprised, but glad that Jin Zixuan had decided to go along with the plan.
"The Room of Requirement," Qing Yi said, his voice steady, though his smile hinted at something deeper. "7:30 PM. We can practice there without interruption."
Jin Zixuan paused for a brief moment, taken aback by Qing Yi’s quick response and the warmth in his smile. He seemed to hesitate, as if trying to process everything that had just happened. But eventually, he gave a curt nod. “Alright,” he said simply before turning and heading toward the library without another word.
The group was left in stunned silence, the air around them still crackling with surprise. Nie Huaisang, the first to recover, clapped a hand on Qing Yi’s shoulder, his eyes wide with admiration.
"By Merlin's most outrageous hat," he said with a laugh, "You've only gone and tamed the Gryffindor lion! I'd bet my entire collection of self-inking quills that even the Sorting Hat didn't see this coming!"
Qing Yi chuckled lightly, though the sound was still laced with some lingering unease. “I wasn’t sure if he’d ever come around, honestly,” he admitted, though the small victory brought some comfort. It was a welcome distraction from the complicated feelings still swirling inside him.
Lan Xichen, however, didn’t share in Nie Huaisang’s enthusiasm. His brow furrowed, and there was a weight to his expression that hadn’t been there before. Concern etched lines into his usually calm features as he turned to Qing Yi. “Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked quietly, his voice low, but laced with something that tugged at the edges of Qing Yi’s heart.
Qing Yi, feeling Lan Xichen’s gaze on him, met his eyes. For a moment, the weight of the past few days—the teasing, the embarrassment, the pressure—seemed to hang between them. But Qing Yi took a breath and nodded, his voice steady. "Yeah," he said, his tone firm. "It’s not about the embarrassment or feeling like a victim anymore. I’m going to see this through."
Lan Xichen’s eyes softened at Qing Yi’s response, but there was something else there too—something sad, almost like regret. He studied Qing Yi’s face for a moment longer, as if searching for something in the younger boy’s expression. Then, in a voice that was quieter, more vulnerable than Qing Yi had ever heard from him, Lan Xichen spoke again. “That’s not what I meant...”
Qing Yi blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in Lan Xichen’s tone. He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected Lan Xichen’s concern to cut so deep, to feel so personal. "What do you mean?" Qing Yi asked, his heart beating just a little faster now.
Lan Xichen hesitated, his eyes searching Qing Yi’s. "I meant..." He exhaled softly, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "Are you really going to the dance with him?"
Qing Yi felt as if he'd been struck by a Stunning Spell. The intensity in Lan Xichen's gaze made his heart race, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Confusion swirled within him, mingling with a strange sense of hope he thought he'd long since buried.
"I... yes," Qing Yi finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. He dropped his gaze to the stone floor, unable to bear the weight of Lan Xichen's look. "Jin Zixuan is... well, he’s the one I got stuck with," he continued, his tone tinged with reluctant acceptance. "We got thrown into this together, and if everyone expects a show, we might as well give them one."
The words carried a hint of bitterness, as if he was forcing himself to accept a situation he’d rather not be in.
Nie Huaisang, usually quick with a clever remark, found himself uncharacteristically silent. His eyes darted between his friends, sensing the tension crackling in the air like accidental magic. Though he couldn't fully grasp the situation, he knew he was witnessing something profound, something that went far beyond a simple question about dance partners.
Lan Wangji, ever attuned to his brother's emotions, shifted almost imperceptibly closer to Lan Xichen. To most, his expression remained as stoic as ever, but those who knew him well could see the concern in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his eyes softened as he watched his brother struggle to maintain composure.
Lan Xichen felt each of Qing Yi's words like a physical blow. His emotions threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought to maintain his composure, his face a mask of calm that belied the turmoil within. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to process it. Qing Yi’s words lingered in the air, and for a moment, Lan Xichen hesitated. Then, he let out a soft breath.
"Of course," Lan Xichen said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His voice, usually warm and steady, held a barely perceptible tremor. "I'm sure you'll both give a splendid performance. It's admirable how you're handling this situation, Qing Yi."
Every word felt like ash in his mouth, but Lan Xichen pressed on, desperate to escape before his carefully constructed facade crumbled completely.
"I've just remembered a pressing matter with the Ravenclaw Quidditch team," he said, the lie tasting bitter. He squeezed Lan Wangji's shoulder, a silent plea for understanding. "Wangji, please go to the library with the others. I'll join you when I can."
As Lan Xichen turned to leave, his robes swishing softly against the stone floor, Nie Huaisang called out, "Xichen-ge..." But Lan Xichen couldn't bring himself to turn back, fearing his expression would betray the storm of emotions raging within him.
Qing Yi stared after him, a maelstrom of emotions churning in his chest. 'What in Merlin's name was that about?' he thought, his mind racing. 'Why do I feel like I've just made a terrible mistake? He rejected me, didn't he? So why does it feel like I'm the one hurting him?'
Shaking his head as if to dispel the troubling thoughts, Qing Yi grabbed Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji's sleeves. "Right then," he said, forcing a cheerfulness he didn't feel into his voice. "Let's tackle this blasted Defense Against the Dark Arts paper, shall we? Might as well get some work done before all this dance business, eh?"
Nie Huaisang laughed, relieved by the change in tone. “You’re right about that! Last thing we need is Mei on our case right before the dance.” He nudged Qing Yi with a playful grin. “Let’s get it done so we can actually enjoy the night without worrying about schoolwork.”
Lan Wangji, ever the silent observer, nodded quietly, though his gaze lingered a moment longer in the direction Lan Xichen had gone. The weight of the earlier conversation remained with him, unspoken but understood.
As they made their way to the library, Qing Yi's mind whirled with unanswered questions. The weight of unspoken words and conflicting emotions seemed to settle on his shoulders, a burden he wasn't sure how to bear. The upcoming dance, once a source of dread and then determination, now felt complicated in ways he couldn't quite understand.
Unbeknownst to the group, Cassiopeia was on her way to the library when she caught sight of an unexpected gathering. Her curiosity piqued, she stepped behind a nearby corner, her emerald eyes gleaming with interest. As she observed the scene unfolding before her, she found herself intrigued by the peculiar interaction between Lan Xichen and Qing Yi. The usually composed Ravenclaw prefect's reactions were... unexpected, to say the least.
Cassiopeia's gaze followed Lan Xichen's retreating figure, her mind whirring with possibilities. First Ming Zhe's unusual interest in the silver-haired first-year, and now this? She couldn't help but notice the flicker of disappointment in Lan Xichen's eyes when Qing Yi mentioned going to the dance with Jin Zixuan, or the way his voice had strained ever so slightly as he made his excuse to leave.
Cassiopeia's brows furrowed slightly, a mix of disbelief and disdain flickering in her emerald eyes. This Qing Yi was proving to be far more... perplexing than she had initially thought. The notion that this unremarkable Koeh boy had somehow managed to capture the attention of not just one, but potentially two of Hogwarts' most elite students was almost laughable.
How utterly baffling, Cassiopeia mused, her pride stung even as her mind began to churn with possibilities. This Fall Dance might require more... finesse than I anticipated.
With one last contemplative glance towards the retreating group, Cassiopeia turned and glided away, her steps measured and purposeful. Her original destination forgotten, she moved with newfound determination. She had some careful planning to do, and perhaps a few choice conversations to arrange.
Meanwhile, Lan Xichen had turned the corner towards the Ravenclaw common room, away from the eyes of his friends. As soon as he was alone, his carefully maintained composure began to crumble. The weight of the encounter with Qing Yi hit him full force, each word replaying in his mind like a painful echo.
His steps faltered as the inner turmoil gnawed at him. How had the situation with Qing Yi become so complicated? A part of him yearned to turn back, to explain his actions, to tell Qing Yi that his previous words of rejection had been a mistake born of misguided protectiveness.
But even as the desire to clear the air burned within him, Lan Xichen realized that any explanation now would seem hollow, perhaps even manipulative. The timing was too delicate, Qing Yi too set on his current path.
He decided to hold his words for now, knowing a better opportunity would come to mend things between them. Still, the unspoken truths left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, a mix of regret for the present and a cautious hope for the future.
"My, my, what could possibly have the ever-composed Lan Xichen so lost in thought?"
A familiar voice cut through his reverie, making him start slightly. Lan Xichen turned and saw Cassiopeia approaching with her usual measured, confident steps. Her sudden appearance snapped him out of his thoughts, and he quickly composed himself, his expression smoothing into one of calm neutrality.
"Cassiopeia," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice, "what an immense pleasure to be graced with your presence today."
Cassiopeia’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint smirk curving her lips as she waved off his words.
"Please, Xichen, don’t insult me with theatrics. You wear sarcasm like you would a Gryffindor tie—poorly." Her tone was cool, but there was a glint of irritation behind her words, as though she was affronted by his half-hearted attempt at humor.
A soft laugh escaped Lan Xichen's lips. "I thought you'd be busy preparing to reclaim your Fall Queen title this weekend. It's a surprise to see you in this part of the castle."
A smirk played on Cassiopeia's lips. "Well, yes, I should be. However, looking at this year's competition, I find myself rather... underwhelmed. I assure you, this year's title will fall into my lap without much effort."
Lan Xichen resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his brows furrowing slightly at Cassiopeia's overconfident demeanor. His mouth twitched as he replied, "Classic Cassiopeia. I'd expect nothing less."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Cassiopeia's face at Lan Xichen's lack of impressed reaction. Her eyes narrowed, a knowing glint appearing in them. "So, I hear you haven't asked anyone to the dance yet?"
Lan Xichen paused, his calm exterior shifting for just a second. "That’s right."
Cassiopeia, ever observant, caught the momentary lapse. Her curiosity piqued, she pressed on, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, "What's the plan? Going stag?"
When Lan Xichen didn't respond, Cassiopeia pressed on, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. "Or perhaps... you wanted to ask someone, but your chance was snatched away?"
Lan Xichen's eyes widened slightly, betraying his surprise. "What do you mean by that?"
Cassiopeia's eyes lit up with realization, a cat that had just cornered its prey. She circled him slowly, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper
"My, what a reaction. You know, I had a hunch, but I never expected it to be true... You and Ming Zhe both. What is it about that scrawny, silver-haired boy that's caught both of your interests?"
Lan Xichen's expression shifted to one of concern at the mention of Ming Zhe's name. "Ming Zhe is interested..." He caught himself mid-sentence, realizing he'd fallen into Cassiopeia's trap.
"Oh, how interesting," Cassiopeia said, her voice filled with mock surprise. "This explains so much."
Finally having enough, Lan Xichen's tone sharpened. "Explains what, Cassi? Just because you've noticed something unusual doesn't mean the story you've conjured in your head is true. Jumping to conclusions without understanding the context - typical of you."
Visibly annoyed by his retort, Cassiopeia straightened, her eyes gleaming with irritation. "Oh, is that so? Are you saying there's nothing between you and this first-year whatsoever?"
Lan Xichen met her gaze firmly. "Nothing but care for a younger brother. If you want to think otherwise, that's up to you. I have no power to control your thoughts." He turned towards the common room entrance. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my common room."
Cassiopeia's eyes narrowed sharply, her voice lowering. "Well, then, I suppose I’m free to crush this little worm underfoot as he vies for my title. He won’t last long anyway."
Lan Xichen's steps towards the common room suddenly felt heavy, as if his feet were made of lead. A cold dread settled in his stomach at Cassiopeia's words, his protective instincts flaring.
Cassiopeia continued, her voice dripping with disdain, "You know, it's quite annoying that I find myself sharing my nominee status with a boring, plain-looking Koeh. A male, no less. How distasteful."
Unable to bear her insults towards Qing Yi any longer, Lan Xichen turned back. "Enough, Cassi," he said, his voice stern. "Qing Yi has already faced undue hardship over this situation. I'd expect someone of your standing to show more grace and maturity."
Cassiopeia's eyes widened, a quiet exclamation escaping her. She hadn't expected such a vehement defense from the usually composed Lan Xichen. A calculating look crossed her face as she studied him closely.
"Oh dear, is this simply care from a big brother to an underclassman, or..." she studied him closely, "perhaps there might be more to it?"
Lan Xichen felt his heart rate quicken, realizing he might have revealed too much in his passionate defense of Qing Yi. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. His voice was low and controlled when he spoke again.
"You're thinking too much, Cassi. It doesn't suit you - it'll give you wrinkles." He steadied his voice, hoping to deflect her attention with a jab at her vanity.
The effect was immediate. Cassiopeia's eyes flashed with indignation, her hand instinctively touching her face. "Wrinkles?" she hissed, her vanity clearly stung. "How dare you-"
She caught herself, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. Her eyes narrowed, and when she spoke again, her voice dropped to a silky whisper.
"You know, Xichen, my mother was asking about us the other day. She was so pleased to hear how well we've been getting along. It would be... unfortunate if I had to disappoint her. Or if she were to hear certain... rumors about your interests in younger students."
Lan Xichen's calm facade cracked, his eyes widening with a mix of shock and concern. "Are you threatening me, Cassiopeia?" His voice was low, tinged with disbelief and a hint of anger.
"Threatening? Never," she smiled, all teeth. "I'm simply concerned about our families' expectations. You know how important these connections are to them. Perhaps... we could discuss this further at the dance? As each other's escorts, of course."
Lan Xichen's mind raced. The thought of disappointing his family weighed heavily on him, but what truly concerned him were the potential consequences if his parents learned of his feelings for Qing Yi. Their reaction could have far-reaching implications, not just for him, but for Qing Yi as well. Moreover, agreeing to go with Cassiopeia might keep her from directly interfering with Qing Yi. He studied her for a long moment, weighing his options.
"Very well," he said finally, his voice carefully neutral, though a hint of resignation colored his tone. "We'll attend the dance together."
"Wonderful," Cassiopeia beamed, victory glinting in her eyes. "I do so look forward to it. See? That wasn't so difficult, was it?"
Lan Xichen met her gaze, his expression a mixture of weariness and quiet defiance. He felt drained, as if this conversation had aged him years in mere minutes. With a barely perceptible nod, he turned and walked away, his usually graceful stride now burdened.
As he disappeared into the Ravenclaw common room, Cassiopeia's triumphant smile faded to calculated determination. This dance, she decided, would be far more interesting than anticipated, and perhaps it was time for a chat with a certain silver-haired first-year.
****
The Room of Requirement was bustling with energy as Qing Yi stood in front of Jin Zixuan, their posture stiff as they prepared to waltz. Around them, a curious and lively group had gathered: Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Jing Shi, and Jing Xiang. All of them were there for what could only be described as “moral support”—or as Qing Yi suspected, pure entertainment.
Qing Yi clapped his hands, a determined glint in his eyes. "Alright, Zixuan. One hand on my waist, the other holding mine."
Jin Zixuan’s brows furrowed in clear discomfort, his hesitation evident as he awkwardly lingered, standing a bit too far back. "Uh... right." He lifted his hands slightly, then immediately dropped them back down, unsure.
Qing Yi, noticing his hesitation, let out a sigh and stepped forward, closing the gap between them. He was now standing so close that Jin Zixuan unconsciously flinched and took a quick step back, his face betraying his discomfort. But Qing Yi wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily. He stepped forward again, closing the distance once more.
"Come on, Zixuan," Qing Yi said, a mix of impatience and amusement in his voice. "We don’t have all night. Hand. On my waist."
Jin Zixuan, his expression one of mild horror, raised his hands again but hesitated just before making contact. His fingers hovered awkwardly in the air as if he were trying to figure out how to handle a hot cauldron.
"Oh, for Merlin’s sake," Qing Yi muttered, clearly losing patience. He reached out, grabbed Jin Zixuan's wrist, and practically dragged him to the center of the room, right next to the gramophone. With a swift motion, Qing Yi firmly placed Jin Zixuan’s left hand on his waist, keeping a grip on his right hand, all while ignoring the wide-eyed look of discomfort on Zixuan’s face.
"You know," Qing Yi said, looking him straight in the eye, "if you agreed to do this, there’s no point in being hesitant or shy anymore." He gave Jin Zixuan a pointed look. "Now, move with me.”
They began to move with the rhythm of the music, though Jin Zixuan’s awkward, stiff movements were far from graceful. His steps were too big, too clumsy, and completely off beat. His face tightened in concentration, but his feet didn’t seem to get the message.
"Zixuan, other foot!" Qing Yi snapped, trying to keep the frustration from his voice as he glanced down at their feet.
"I did use the other foot!" Jin Zixuan retorted, his frustration starting to show.
"No, you didn’t! You stepped on my foot!" Qing Yi winced, momentarily lifting one leg off the ground in pain. "Again! One, two, three, one—ow!"
Jin Zixuan’s face turned crimson, the vein on his forehead visibly pulsing. "You said the other foot, so I switched!"
Qing Yi rolled his eyes dramatically, arms flailing in exasperation. "Yes, after we’d already moved past that part of the song! This isn’t a Quidditch drill, Zixuan! The steps are supposed to be graceful, not… whatever this is!"
This time, Jin Zixuan nearly tripped as he tried to correct his step, and Wei Wuxian burst out laughing from the sidelines.
"They’re doing great, don’t you think?" he asked, nudging Jiang Cheng with a wide grin.
Jiang Cheng smirked, folding his arms. "It’s like watching a Hippogriff trying to tap dance."
Jin Zixuan, now completely red in the face, clenched his teeth. "Okay, seriously, what are they doing here?" He pointed at Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, frustration evident in his voice. "I thought it was just us two practicing!"
Wei Wuxian, lounging dramatically against a pillar, waved his hand as if he were dismissing an unimportant detail. "Oh don’t mind me, I just finished my Defense Against the Dark Arts paper, and I’m feeling depressed."
Jin Zixuan blinked. "Depressed?"
"Yeah!" Wei Wuxian nodded solemnly. "One, because the topic of the research paper was dark, and two, because I actually finished an assignment on time. It's really hitting me hard, Zixuan. So I figured I needed some top-tier entertainment to lift my spirits." He gestured grandly to the two of them dancing.
Jin Zixuan rolled his eyes.
Jiang Cheng snickered, crossing his arms. "I’m here because I’ve got nothing else to do."
Nie Huaisang raised his hand in agreement, fanning himself lazily. "Same here."
Jin Zixuan sighed, exasperated. His eyes drifted to the girls, hoping for some support. Jiang Yanli offered him a sweet, encouraging smile. "I’m here for emotional support. You can do it, Zixuan!" she said cheerfully.
Jing Shi and Jing Xiang exchanged a look and added in unison, "We’re here to give you a fresh perspective on how to be a true gentleman."
Jiang Cheng’s eyes darted nervously to Jing Xiang as she spoke, and his usual confident demeanor faltered. He tried to act casual, but his posture stiffened, and he quickly glanced away, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks.
Nie Huaisang immediately noticed and grinned, leaning in close. "Oh, I see why someone else is here for ‘moral support’ too," he whispered loudly enough for the group to hear, causing Jiang Cheng to shoot him a withering glare.
"Shut up, Huaisang!" Jiang Cheng snapped, his face turning even redder.
Qing Yi shrugged, spreading his hands wide. "See? Who am I to stop them?" His expression screamed I didn’t ask for this either, but he continued anyway. "Let’s just focus. Come on."
Jin Zixuan scowled. "I can’t focus when there are too many voices giving commentary!"
Qing Yi tilted his head, looking genuinely confused. "Funny, because I managed just fine."
Jin Zixuan’s face flushed. "That’s because you… you..." He stopped mid-sentence, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating as Qing Yi’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"I'm what?" Qing Yi asked, his voice dropping dangerously low, emerald eyes flashing. "Choose your words carefully."
Jin Zixuan gulped and wisely said nothing, his face reddening further as he mumbled, "I just can’t focus, that’s all."
Before anyone could reply, Wei Wuxian sprang up, practically dancing over to the center of the room. "Sounds like Young Master Jin is just a big baby who likes to complain,” he teased. “How about I show you how it's done?"
Jin Zixuan crossed his arms, annoyed. "Fine, if you think you’re so great, be my guest!" He stepped aside with an exaggerated wave of his hand.
Qing Yi rolled his eyes but stepped into position with Wei Wuxian, who winked at the group. "Watch and learn," he said confidently.
The two began to waltz, and to everyone’s surprise, they moved together smoothly and effortlessly. They glided across the floor, making it look as if they’d been practicing for hours. Qing Yi’s movements were sharp and graceful, while Wei Wuxian kept pace with an easy charm.
Jiang Cheng clapped slowly, smirking. "Well, at least one of you has rhythm."
Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow and said with mock seriousness, "I’d give it a 9 out of 10. Perfect technique, but a little too much flair."
Jin Zixuan grumbled from the sidelines, clearly annoyed by the compliments being thrown at Wei Wuxian. "Alright, alright, I get it," he muttered.
Jiang Yanli smiled brightly. "They really are quite good together!"
Jing Shi teased, "Maybe Zixuan could take some notes on how to be light on his feet."
Jin Zixuan couldn’t take it anymore. With a determined look, he marched over and pushed Wei Wuxian aside.
"Alright, enough. You doubt me? Watch this! I’ll show you how it’s done." He grabbed Qing Yi’s hand with renewed confidence. "What’s so hard about dipping your partner?"
He attempted to swing his leg behind Qing Yi, preparing for an exaggerated dip, but instead of a smooth move, they both lost balance and collapsed onto the floor in a tangled heap.
The room erupted into laughter.
"Smooth as ever, Zixuan!" Wei Wuxian managed to say between bursts of laughter.
Qing Yi groaned, pushing himself up and shooting Jin Zixuan an annoyed look. "That’s not how you do it! Here—like this !"
He demonstrated the proper way to dip, executing it perfectly, much to everyone’s delight.
As laughter filled the room, Qing Yi found himself momentarily forgetting his earlier worries about Lan Xichen. The light-hearted banter and fun with his friends had temporarily lifted the weight off his chest. For the first time in hours, his mind wasn’t focused on the awkwardness with Lan Xichen or the question that had caused so much confusion.
As he danced with his friends, Qing Yi realized that asking Lan Xichen if he liked him had been a mistake. What he truly missed was being around Lan Xichen the way they were before, without the heavy feelings getting in the way. He just wanted things to go back to normal. Maybe, he thought, he should apologize and ask Lan Xichen to forget the whole thing, so they could be friends again. Perhaps, if he kept his feelings to himself, they’d fade over time.
His thoughts were interrupted by more laughter as Jin Zixuan got up, looking thoroughly annoyed. He marched back over, grabbing Qing Yi’s hand once more. "You think I can’t do it? Here, let me try again!"
Qing Yi raised an eyebrow but let him proceed. "If you insist."
Jin Zixuan, determined not to make the same mistake, attempted the dip again, but this time he somehow managed to trip over his own feet, causing both of them to collapse in an even more ridiculous heap than before.
The laughter reached a new level of intensity.
"Well, Zixuan," Nie Huaisang said, barely able to contain his amusement, "at least you’re consistent."
Jiang Cheng chuckled, "Yeah, consistently bad."
Even Jiang Yanli had to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle. "You’re doing great, Zixuan. Really!"
Qing Yi just sighed, lying on the floor next to Jin Zixuan. "Honestly, you’re hopeless."
Jin Zixuan let out a groan of frustration, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the room continued to roar with laughter.
****