Fierce Muggles
Pink started from Harry's ears, spread down his neck, and quickly disappeared into the white shirt collar. Where would that blush stop? Speaking of which, why doesn't human vision bend? Oh, she remembered. Air is the carrier, and light travels in a straight line in a uniform medium without bending, so human vision doesn't either.
It seems she hasn't forgotten what her physics teacher taught her.
Queenie peered through his suit, following the direction Red Blush might have gone. He was wearing a full suit, but for ease of movement, he hadn't buttoned his jacket. His narrow waist, cinched by the belt, was hidden at the bottom edge of his vest. The pockets on either side of the vest were purely decorative, but Harry must have been carrying something in them. Judging by the shape, it looked like a small bottle? Wasn't it a cell phone? Her first thought was that it was a cell phone.
Queenie reached out to grab his vest, but her wrist was grabbed as soon as she touched it.
"Queen, Queenie—" Harry's face flushed like a cute tomato as he awkwardly grabbed her wrist, not daring to use too much force.
Queenie said innocently, "I didn't mean to touch anything." After thinking for a moment, she added, "At least not in this kind of situation." Her expression was exceptionally sincere, and ignoring her actions, you could even feel her honesty and integrity.
But she just kissed...touched...brushed against his ear! Accidentally? Knowing Queenie as he did, she must have done it on purpose! She just loves teasing him! Even though he knew this, Harry still felt his temperature must have reached forty degrees Celsius. To avoid getting too hot from all those layers of cumbersome suits, he had asked Sirius to use a freezing charm!
Queenie continued, "What do you carry in your vest pocket? Can't I know?"
Harry froze; it was the aging serum he always carried with him…
The sound of a camera shutter breaking the silent, romantic standoff, they both turned to the side, where a freckled brown-haired girl just put down her camera. "Sorry, I'm from the school newspaper—well—anyway, you two look so good together, I couldn't help but take a picture... I'm sorry! If you don't agree, I can delete it!"
The girl hurriedly explained that she might get scolded again, as most people don't like this kind of sneaky, unauthorized filming, especially when it's so close to her face... But she really didn't mean it; she just couldn't help herself.
"Is it pretty?" Queenie asked.
"ah?"
"I said, is it a good photo?"
"Of course! My skills are excellent! And you guys are so outstanding!"
She held up the camera to show Queenie, who glanced at it and thought it was pretty good. Harry looked like he was the same age as her. It wasn't that she looked older, but rather that Harry had a youthful, innocent air about him. It's just that she looked a little... frivolous in the photo? But it didn't matter; her good looks made up for it perfectly.
Queenie immediately exchanged contact information with her, saying, "Remember to send me the photos."
"Thank you!" the girl exclaimed excitedly. "I wish you happiness!"
This time it was Queenie's turn to thank her. "Thank you."
As for Harry, he has temporarily lost his ability to speak.
As the music began, Queenie pulled Harry along and naturally joined the undulating waltz. Her golden hair and blue skirt fluttered together, and the laser-etched organza made her radiant under the lights. Apart from Freya, who was particularly eye-catching because of the color of her dress, Queenie and Harry received the most attention, as they both seemed to be shining—physically.
Harry: Thank you, Beauty Potion.
The dances of ordinary British high school students were clearly more youthful and vibrant than those in the traditional magical world—he meant the dance steps were more graceful, and the beautiful waltzes made even the young high school students appear elegant.
Harry perfectly executed his practice, and he and Queenie gazed at each other intently, as if the Great Hall were no different from the empty room in their usual practice center. Because of the previous kiss—which he thought he could call a kiss—he felt a little sticky in their eyes.
You can't always be the one being manipulated; at least you're older than Queenie right now!
Harry encouraged himself, cleared his throat, and began maturely, "Queenie, before—"
"Oh, I'm sorry, someone bumped into me from behind, and I accidentally touched your ear."
Queenie's honey-colored eyes were full of apology, which successfully stunned Harry.
So it was an accident? Queenie hadn't intended—hadn't intended to get close to him? Harry didn't know whether to thank or resent that person. He secretly bit his lower lip. "It's okay, you don't need to—"
"Just kidding." Queenie couldn't help but laugh out loud, her tone brimming with self-righteousness. "To be honest, it's all your fault. Why did you put your ear so close to my face? Imagine if a cat obediently stretched its fluffy little head in front of you, could you resist reaching out and petting it?"
Actually, he could. For example, he'd never felt any physical attraction to Hermione's Crookshanks—though he admired its intelligence and courage—but if it were a "kitten" named Queenie, he certainly wouldn't be able to resist. Wait, in other words, was he just a cute little kitten in Queenie's eyes?
Harry's green eyes blamed with accusation. "Queenie, you can't keep teasing me like this..."
As the first song ended, Queenie leaned forward a few inches after finishing her closing movements, her soft lips brushing against Harry's cheek, the sensation just as they had touched his ear a dozen minutes earlier, accompanied by a faint, sweet strawberry scent.
In just a second, or perhaps less than a second, Harry felt the intense heat of forty degrees Celsius again.
Harry thought that Sirius's freezing spell and the air conditioning in the Great Hall couldn't possibly both fail at the same time, so the problem must lie with Queenie, who was a Muggle capable of defeating magic.
“My dear Harry, you must know—” Queenie lifted her skirt to curtsy, but quickly took his hand and placed it back on her waist, “I couldn’t be more serious.”
Harry had thought he'd dance with Queenie until the end of the ball—after all, he'd lost count of how many times he'd gone between Queenie's house and Black's old house for it—but in just a few dances, the atmosphere transformed from ballroom dancing into a DJ rave. The high schoolers swayed tirelessly on the dance floor. Queenie lifted her overly long skirt and tied a knot near her knees, while Harry loosened his tie, which he'd worn so neatly at the start of the ball. Both of them, wearing neon glasses and glow sticks issued by the student council, went wild until Emily came to call them.
Queenie stopped to catch her breath and gave Emily a hug. "My dear sister, I almost forgot!"
Then she led the bewildered Harry out of the Great Hall. The moment the door closed, the quiet environment overwhelmed Harry's senses. He even felt a slight tinnitus, as if a low-frequency noise was constantly ringing in his ears.
He hadn't quite recovered from the excitement yet. "Where to Queenie? Is it over?"
"No, the night has only just begun."
Queenie shook her feet, but couldn't get her high heels off easily. She had to bend down and untie the pearl-studded shoelaces. Her heels were already rubbed red. If she wasn't worried about how unsightly they looked, she would have put on a band-aid.
"Crouch down, Harry."
Harry didn't understand what she wanted to do, but that didn't stop him from following her instructions. He did as she said, and Queenie jumped onto his back. "Let's go, let's go to the dressing room and get our things first."
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