fluorescent powder
The streetlights gradually came on, their lights swirling and flashing past Harry's eyes. He closed his eyes to keep from getting dizzy and gripped the handrail tightly, praying he wouldn't be thrown off.
The good news is that he had already mastered the skill of Apparition and thought he could get to Queenie's side in a second.
The bad news was that he forgot they had agreed to meet directly in the school auditorium—a place he hadn't been to before—because the girls needed to prepare their hair and makeup in advance, and you can't expect a princess to walk down the street to the ball, nor can you take a taxi.
Harry had to take the Knight Bus to his destination again. Luckily, he used enough hairspray, otherwise he would have had to meet Queenie with messy hair.
Queenie had been preparing for August 31st for a long time.
She had a full schedule planned for the day, or more precisely, for these four hours, since the ball started at eight o'clock.
However, things haven't gone smoothly so far. It's already been ten minutes past the agreed time, and Harry still hasn't shown up. If it weren't for the text message she received from Harry, she would have thought she was being stood up, just like the day they agreed to go to the Maritime Museum... no, no, that time it was because of a misfortune that happened to Harry's aunt's family...
Queenie steadied herself and mentally rehearsed her plan once more. To avoid wrinkling her dress, she didn't sit on the bench outside the hall; instead, she leaned against the wall, brazenly walking barefoot on the ground thanks to the length of her skirt. Unless some rogue dared to risk his life to lift her skirt, no one would know that Cinderella had secretly taken off her glass slippers.
A series of crisp footsteps grew closer and closer. Queenie looked up and saw Emily walking briskly towards her in her high heels.
She shivered, rubbing her bare arms as if she couldn't stand it. "My God, Kent and Freya just came, did you see them?"
Queenie said honestly, "No, to be honest, I've been thinking about things related to Harry."
"..." Emily paused for a moment, "I originally wanted to say that Freya's pretentious manner was disgusting, but now I can't tell which of the two of you is more disgusting."
Before Queenie could retort, she saw her eyes suddenly light up, and she greeted the person entering from the auditorium with exaggerated enthusiasm—the very same college student she had spent over twenty days glued to the British Library. Emily's tone was more affected than ever before, and Queenie shivered, pulling out her phone from her pearl-chain handbag to send her a text message.
"Darling, if you could see your own reflection, you might find that neither Freya nor I could compete with you for the top spot on the disgusting list."
She then clicked on Harry's last text message. Another eight minutes had passed. Where was he? Stuck in traffic? Or had something happened? If she asked him again—
"Hey, hello, Emily."
It's Harry's voice!
Queenie immediately looked toward the door and saw Harry appear, panting. He was greeting Emily, who was also standing there. His black hair looked like it had been carefully styled by its owner; considering its usual messy appearance, Queenie figured he must have spent a lot of time on it.
Emily's tone towards Harry lost its sweetness. "Hi Harry, what's wrong? Queenie has been waiting for you for a long time."
"Oh, I'm sorry, my home—"
“No need to explain to me, go and talk to Queenie.” Emily waved her hand to interrupt him, pointed out Queenie’s location, and then took the woman she had finally managed to meet into the hall.
Queenie stood there watching Harry walk towards her, her steps gradually becoming hesitant from their rapid pace.
In just a few steps, Harry had already adjusted his bangs no less than ten times.
Queenie didn't mention his lateness, but he did come, didn't he? She smiled and said, "You look very handsome today, Mr. Potter." She wasn't being polite; Harry was already handsome, not to mention the added bonus of a suit. He looked exceptionally striking today, with thick eyebrows, big eyes, red lips, and white teeth. She even guessed he was wearing makeup, but no matter how she looked at it, there was no trace of it. She could only attribute it to the fact that she liked Harry even more, so much so that her perception of Harry's handsomeness had increased proportionally.
"Thank you, Queenie, you look absolutely gorgeous today! I mean, you're gorgeous every day!" Golden hair, a blue dress, exquisite makeup—she was practically Cinderella from a fairy tale. Thank goodness he'd listened to Hermione and drunk that tiny sip of the beauty potion—Ron's eyes widened in horror when Hermione pulled it out, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he actually reached for it. But… thank you Hermione, thank you magic, thank you Merlin! Harry happily thought he and Queenie were a perfect match!
"I'm sorry I'm late, I—"
"What are you carrying? For me?" The bag in Harry's hand looked quite heavy; he must have been tired from carrying it all the way here. "A parting gift?"
"Hmm, hmm..." Queenie can accept it calmly? Is he the only one who feels sad about the separation?
“I’ve also prepared a parting gift for you. We’ll exchange them after the ball.” She winked at him with her honey-colored eyes, the anticipation in them genuine.
"Queenie doesn't seem to feel any reluctance at all," Harry thought gloomily. He didn't want Queenie to be sad, but when Queenie really didn't show any sadness, he felt a little melodramatic and unhappy—he swore it was only a tiny bit—well, a little more than a tiny bit.
"Help me up." Queenie raised her hand, and Harry instinctively grabbed it. She shifted her legs and put her high heels back on. "Let's put the things in the dressing room first."
The dance officially began at eight o'clock.
The student representative was giving her opening speech when Queenie spotted Kent and Freya in the crowd. Not because she cared, but because Freya was so eye-catching—who gave her the audacity to wear a fluorescent pink dress? Good heavens, it was even studded with sequins! Wait, why was she looking at her? Queenie raised her chin, ready to glare back, but suddenly noticed Freya's gaze was off. She took a closer look—damn it, that girl was looking at Harry!
At the same time, Harry followed Queenie's gaze and looked in that direction. He frowned. Wasn't that the couple he'd met at the British Library? The two who had hurt Queenie before? Wait, that jerk dared to stare at Queenie? Didn't he realize he was someone's boyfriend? Hmm? These two even dared to look at Queenie?
Harry's vision was suddenly blocked by Queenie's hand. He pulled her hand down and held it. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Queenie raised an eyebrow. "Isn't the fluorescent powder too bright? I'm worried it will hurt your eyes."
Harry was completely confused. "What fluorescent powder?"
"Freya's dress."
Queenie's words were drowned out by applause, just as the student representative finished speaking.
Harry lowered his head and moved closer to Queenie, pulling her closer with his hand, trying to create a private space just for the two of them so he could hear Queenie's voice clearly.
"What fluorescent powder?" he asked again, tilting his head slightly to bring his ear closer.
Queenie didn't answer. She stared at the ear in front of her, wondering if it was normal to want to kiss or lick it. And she actually did it, and then the elastic cartilage tissue visibly became congested with blood.
Queenie licked her lips again. "Oh, I must say, your ears are so pink."
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