long phone calls
As evening approached, Sirius messaged Queenie saying he had some business to attend to and would be back later, asking if she was safe. Queenie replied that she was with Dumbledore and could be perfectly safe.
Not long after Queenie finished eating and returned home after dark, Sirius also returned, bringing a new roommate with him.
"Are you sure this isn't a pantomime?" Queenie asked.
“Of course not—oh, sorry, I forgot.” Sirius waved his wand. “Appear now.”
As the light of the spell flashed, Queenie's mouth gradually opened into a perfect "O".
"Were you feeling cooped up in that dark, cramped room in Volbuga? Well, now look at Godric Valley, it has plenty of forest to keep you entertained." Sirius praised his good comrade a few more times before turning to Queenie. "Oh, you're also blown away by its coolness? This little thing is not only cool, but also incredibly smart. Come on, Buckbeak, say hello to Queenie—no, Queenie, you have to bow to it first, then you can ride it around!"
What does she do with it?
Sirius continued to share his experience, saying, "Remember, the key is sincerity and maintaining eye contact."
Queenie's mind had gone blank. She moved step by step according to Sirius's commands, bending over, bowing, and craning her neck to maintain eye contact. To be honest, the posture was a little awkward, but it wasn't any more awkward than the surreal creature in front of her.
This—Mr. Buckbeak? Is he a gentleman? It gave her a very critical look, its bright yellow eyes fixed on her, then it took two steps back and slowly bowed to her.
“That’s it, true sincerity!” Sirius said happily.
Queenie, “…” Maybe so. Maybe the other person sensed her genuine shock and stunned expression. How could that not be genuine?
"Now you can touch it. Want to try riding it? I'll take you with me?"
"...No, thank you. It's too late, I want to rest."
Sirius didn't insist and instead went for a pleasant drive with his long-suffering friend.
Their carefree, frolicking figures traced an unbroken S-shape as they gradually disappeared into the distant mountains. Queenie finally snapped out of her daze. Her knowledge of the magical world was still limited; all she had seen so far were wizards who could use magic—and wizards who could transform into animals—this surreal creature was a first for her, and the visual effect was simply breathtaking…
Maybe next time she can, uh, touch it.
Queenie poured herself a glass of strawberry pomegranate-flavored fruit wine she had just bought that day, and planned to go upstairs for a bath.
She placed a thick towel on the edge of the bathtub and leaned against it to text Harry.
Harry called first.
"Queenie!"
"Hmm, what's wrong?"
“Oh, nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice.” There was a rustling sound on the other end of the phone; Harry must have already climbed into bed. In fact, there wasn’t much room for him to move around in the Dursleys’ house. “I don’t think this bed is very comfortable, even though I was quite happy when I first got this room.”
Queenie put the phone on speakerphone and placed it on a low stool beside her. "Hmm, what happened when Sirius drove you home today? Didn't he threaten to teach your aunt and uncle a lesson?"
"Yes, he did. He fiercely threatened them not to bother me anymore, not to treat me like a Dursley's house-elf—you saw it, my aunt and uncle were furious but dared not speak out, and Dudley was still covering his bottom, afraid that Sirius would grow a pig's tail like Hagrid did!"
"That scene sounds pretty ridiculous."
"Yes... In the end, Sirius said he would return all the money Aunt Petunia had spent raising me over the years... but Aunt Petunia refused—"
"She didn't want it?"
“Well, she was quite angry. She yelled, ‘I didn’t take him in for that!’ I must say, it was as loud as Mrs. Weasley’s roar.” Harry’s voice sounded confused.
Queenie swirled her wine glass, the bottom of which accidentally touched the enamel surface, making a crisp, clear sound. "It seems your aunt doesn't dislike you that much. Didn't Dumbledore say she knew perfectly well that keeping you would protect you? That means she also knew that keeping you would be dangerous, but she still did it."
“Perhaps… but hating someone doesn’t mean wanting them dead.” Harry found his argument, and his voice became firm. “Like how I hate Malfoy, but I don’t want him to disappear—I mean, he can disappear from my sight, but he doesn’t have to disappear from this world. If his life is in danger, I’ll try to save him.” He gagged as if the thought made him nauseous. “Well, now I can understand Aunt Petunia’s feelings a little better.”
"..." She even went so far as to comfort him indirectly, but there was absolutely no need for that.
“Speaking of which—” Queenie changed the subject, “I was just about to chat with you before you called me. I spent almost the entire afternoon with Dumbledore today.”
"An afternoon? What did you all talk about?"
"Actually, they didn't talk much. He was mostly chatting with an old lady named Bathilda... But I heard an interesting story. Do you know about the Deathly Hallows?"
“Death Saints? Who’s that?” It was an unfamiliar term to Harry. “Sounds like a Death Eater prefect, but Bathilda sounds familiar.”
"Hahaha, you're so cute!" Queenie was amused by him, and the water in the bathtub rippled in circles.
She raised her arm and leaned over the edge of the bathtub, tilting her head to speak towards the phone, "The Deathly Hallows are one thing, no, there should be several? Legend has it that whoever collects all the Deathly Hallows can become the master of Death. Dumbledore's wand is one of them; Mrs. Bathilda calls it the legendary Elder Wand. By the way, do you know what Dumbledore's dream was when he was young?"
Harry didn't know; all he knew was that Queenie's voice sounded exceptionally beautiful today. "Hmm, defeat the Dark Lord and save the world?"
"On the contrary, he wants to find all the Deathly Hallows and then use them to rule the world!"
"..." Harry fell silent. Dumbledore? World domination? That seemed like Voldemort's lifelong dream. "Dumbledore must be thinking the best of things."
"But he wants to lead wizards to rule over Muggles."
"...Perhaps he wanted to 'lead' wizards in 'resistance' against Muggles, since in his youth, Muggles were extremely hostile to wizards..."
“You really are a qualified Dumbledore’s Army.” Queenie had heard Harry talk about the DA and thought their organization’s name was very fitting—even though Harry claimed they didn’t mean it that way at first.
"Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald and Voldemort! The two strongest dark wizards!"
Queenie understood the little fan's feelings and didn't argue with him about it. "But according to Mrs. Bathilda, there was someone else who had the same ambition as Dumbledore, but they haven't seen each other for a long time."
"I have never met any of Dumbledore's friends his age."
"Oh, okay, so you know absolutely nothing about the Deathly Hallows? Didn't they teach it in your history class? Or were you not paying attention?"
“You said it yourself, it’s a ‘legend,’ and legends don’t appear in history textbooks.”
"But Dumbledore's wand is one of them, and he admitted it himself. Could Dumbledore be wrong?"
“…Well, I’ll have to ask Hermione, but I’m sure it’s not in the history of magic,” Harry muttered.
"Tell me when you figure it out, I'm quite interested." Queenie tilted her head back and drank the last sip of fruit wine. "Well then, Harry, talk to you later, I'm hanging up now."
Harry wanted to chat a little longer. "Are you going to sleep? So early? By the way, I think your voice sounds especially nice today. I noticed it earlier."
"Because I'm taking a bath~" Queenie said lazily. "The sound is better in the bathroom, right?"
"..."
"Harry?"
"Uh-huh—uh." Harry was no longer the Harry who would scream like a boiling kettle when he got excited. He just buried himself in the blankets, his face flushed, and said "uh" in a flustered manner.
Queenie laughed again. Harry's voice suddenly became muffled, and she guessed he was probably embarrassed and wrapped himself in the blanket. She blinked and continued, "Hmm, why aren't you hanging up yet? Do you want to keep listening to me step out of the bathtub, dry off, apply lotion, and put on my pajamas? Those sounds are nice too."
"...I don't have anything to say. I'm hanging up now. I'll come find you tomorrow, my dear. Goodbye, goodnight!"
"etc--"
"W-what is it?" Harry stammered.
“Oh, I’ve moved into your room, so if you come—” Queenie kindly pointed out, “don’t go to the wrong room.”
"knew……"
"You can hang up now. Goodnight, love you."
"I love you too, goodnight."
It was a peaceful night, and everything was perfect except for Harry's pillow being hit roughly for no reason.
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