reckless lion
Queenie, stood up by Harry, stayed home for three days. Then she contacted her best friend Emily, and she was going to a bar! Drinking until she dropped! Maybe she'd even meet a new crush!
At 8 p.m., Queenie dragged Emily into the bar in a huff, and was helped out crying. Fearing that Queenie would be uncontrollable when drunk, Emily even spent a lot of money to take a taxi home.
"Waaaaah, why did he reject me? Tell me!"
Emily struggled to change her into her pajamas, not wanting to answer the question Queenie had been asking all night, knowing that no matter how she answered, Queenie would just ask again.
"Why, why, why do you have to tell me?!"
But Emily couldn't not answer, otherwise Queenie would become a broken record, relentlessly demanding an answer from her.
Emily took a breath. "He's blind."
“Blind and ignorant…” Queenie stared blankly into space, unusually quiet. Emily quickly seized the opportunity to help her put on her pajamas. She could already guess what Queenie would say next; she had answered that way on purpose, and sure enough—
"Eyes...you know what? Harry's eyes are green, like the lake water in a forest in a fairy tale, they're so beautiful."
Of course she knew Queenie had been nagging her all night, mentioning green cocktails, green spotlights, anything related to green eyes—oh yes, and wild strawberry gin too. Emily thought she might dream tonight of endlessly beating up a handsome man with dark hair and green eyes.
Emily finally changed her into her pajamas. She wasn't going to remove her makeup anymore; after all, sleeping with makeup on for one night wouldn't kill her. But if she removed this drunkard's makeup, she would definitely die.
Queenie was tucked into bed, still muttering incoherently. Emily went to the bathroom to remove her makeup and freshen up before staying with her for the night. She had already told her parents she would be staying at Queenie's before going to the bar.
At three in the morning, the bar district may still be brightly lit, but in the residential area, every household is already fast asleep.
Three figures appeared furtively in Queenie's neighborhood, walking quickly along the dimly lit streetlights.
"Merlin, this is exciting! I've never left my house at 3 a.m. before! I don't even have a room!" Ron looked curiously at the passing streetlights. "What do Muggles use for lighting? Electricity?"
Hermione wasn't as relaxed as him. "We shouldn't have sneaked out of the Phoenix Headquarters! Especially in the middle of the night! Merlin knows there might be Dementors waiting to give us a kiss outside! This is a critical moment; Harry can't afford any more charges from the Ministry of Magic!"
"There's no way around it, Mom keeps a close eye on Harry. If you ask me, it's all because Sirius is always trying to tell Harry things he 'shouldn't know.' Mom's all over the place, afraid that Harry will take his wand and go looking for the mysterious man to fight."
“Mrs. Weasley is right, Sirius shouldn’t be there—who’s there!” Hermione nervously raised her wand and aimed it at the bushes.
Ron, taking advantage of his height, glanced inside and said, "It's a stray cat."
Hermione awkwardly put down her wand. "Oh, oh... do you think Harry cares too much about—well, Queenie? He can't even wait for the Age-Defying Potion."
“He’s worried that Queenie will also encounter Dementors. You know, Harry is that kind of person.” Ron glanced up at Harry, who was walking with his head down at the front, and whispered, “But what are the chances of that happening? After what happened with Harry, I think the Ministry of Magic must have tightened its control over Dementors. He definitely likes her! But he won’t admit it to me—to us!”
“Even I felt a bit fond of Queenie after hearing Harry say it was because of her that he wasn’t so downcast. And Harry, on the other hand, wants to repay even the smallest kindness tenfold.” Hermione quickly caught up with Harry and tugged at his sleeve. “Harry, we’ll go back immediately once we’re sure Queenie is alright, as we agreed. It’s dangerous right now, and she’s still a Muggle who can’t use magic. Staying away from her is the best thing for her, you understand, right?”
Harry pursed his lips. "I know, I still have to apologize."
"Of course, of course." Although she had received Harry's assurance, Hermione was still worried, after all, Harry had never been easy to deal with since their first year.
Around three in the morning, Queenie woke up thirsty. By the light of the bedside lamp, she saw Emily sleeping soundly on the other side. Queenie rubbed her eyes and got out of bed. She walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Her throat was very dry and she desperately needed to drink some water.
Just then, there was a strange knock on the apartment door. Queenie was startled and immediately snapped awake, putting down her water glass and slowly walking toward the entrance.
The knocking continued, not loud, and it was a polite three knocks followed by a pause before knocking again.
Queenie walked barefoot and silently to the door. She looked through the peephole and saw nothing but darkness. A chill ran down her spine, and she was about to go back and wake Emily when she heard a familiar voice calling her.
"Queenie—Queenie—Are you there? It's Harry—"
Queenie was stunned. Was that Harry standing outside the door like a ghost?
She could hardly believe it, wondering if she was still dreaming. She leaned closer to the door, hesitated for a moment, and whispered, "What is your most precious possession?"
Harry breathed a sigh of relief upon finally hearing Queenie's voice; she was safe. "Queenie—"
“Don’t call me,” Queenie said gruffly. “Answer my question.”
Harry understood her wariness. "The stick."
How high are the heels I bought?
"Three and a half inches."
What did we agree on during our last meeting?
"……sorry."
Queenie took a deep breath and opened the door.
It was late at night, and the person outside really seemed to be Harry. She could smell Harry's scent. Queenie reached out to turn on the light in the entryway, but Harry stopped her. "Don't turn on the light! I'm afraid I won't be able to say the words of apology..." He smelled the alcohol on Queenie, which made him feel even more guilty.
The excuse was lame, but Queenie believed it; she hadn't realized before that she was a hopeless romantic.
Queenie didn't want to wake Emily, so she nudged Harry and stepped outside. The door slammed shut, but she didn't seem to care. "An apology? I'm listening."
In the darkness, Queenie couldn't see Harry's expression, but she could hear the rustling sound of his arm brushing against the fabric, which sounded rather tense. "Oh, well, it's about why I stood you up..."
Queenie snorted.
Harry licked his lips—if Queenie saw them, she'd be staring at them again—and told the lie he'd prepared beforehand, "The night before the appointment, my aunt's house was attacked."
"My God, an attack?" Queenie exclaimed.
"Well... my cousin was injured and hospitalized, and my aunt and uncle also fell ill due to high blood pressure, so I have to take care of all three of them at the same time..."
"Oh my god, so what now? Has the attacker been caught? Is your relative alright?"
"Yes, we caught him. My aunt and uncle are getting better, but my cousin is more seriously injured."
"I hope they're all alright... But why did you come to see me in the middle of the night? I was terrified, thinking it was a bad guy."
"..." He hadn't thought of that, but luckily he had Hermione. Hermione was always incredibly thoughtful. Harry was preparing to calmly answer the question according to the lines Hermione had taught him, then casually mention that he might not be her dance partner anymore, and finally unilaterally cut off contact. In the very end, if he was still around after everything was over, he would get to know this friend again.
Queenie didn't seem to care about the answer. Before he could speak, she said anxiously, "By the way, my dad knows some good surgeons. Do you need my help? Where is your cousin injured?"
With Merlin above him, how could he possibly say anything that would hurt Queenie?
“…No need, thank you. His current doctor is highly skilled,” Harry said dryly.
"That's good." Queenie breathed a sigh of relief. "It's so late, you should go back and get some rest, or stay with me for a while? You've been taking care of them, you must not have been able to get a good night's sleep."
"Um, um... I'll be fine going back."
“Then see you tomorrow.” Queenie’s voice was full of energy again, and Harry could imagine the sparkle in her honey-colored eyes, but she quickly became troubled again. “But about your family situation… see you the day after tomorrow? It’s a pity you don’t have a cell phone, it’s really hard to contact you…”
“I’ll buy a cell phone, those things are really convenient.” Harry’s mouth was out of control again. “The day after tomorrow? I have to go to the ball with you, what if I embarrass myself if I don’t practice?” He needed a day to get the aging potion sorted out.
"But won't you be very busy?"
"I think an hour or two should be fine."
Queenie smiled silently. "That would be perfect."
Hermione and Ron waited for a long time downstairs at Queenie's apartment building, and they felt that Harry didn't come out until it was almost dawn.
—Have you made things clear with Queenie?
Before Hermione could even ask, Harry volunteered, "I have to come back the day after tomorrow."
Hermione, "...?!"
Ron shrugged at her, and Hermione struggled to stifle a scream. She knew it! She knew that of all the Gryffindor lions, Harry was the most reckless one!
Meanwhile, after Harry left, Queenie's mood brightened again. She tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.
...
Damn it, she didn't bring her keys!
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