They are all hiding
During the summer holidays, Kingston's commercial street was bustling with groups of young men and women.
Queenie and Harry weren't wearing any designer clothes, but their simple T-shirts and jeans still showed off their great figures. The handsome man and beautiful woman's outfits drew frequent glances—including from Queenie, who kept unconsciously glancing at Harry beside her. He seemed to have never been here before, constantly looking curiously at the various shop signs. When he noticed Queenie's gaze, he would turn around and smile at her.
...Why is he being so obedient when he's already twenty-three or twenty-four years old?
Queenie suddenly felt jealous of the girl he liked, and then she couldn't help but sip her tea. "Um, you mentioned last night that you have a girl you like. Would it be okay if she came to the ball with me?"
“Don’t worry about it.” Harry recalled the failed invitation before the Christmas Ball. “It was just a favor, and besides, I don’t think anything will happen between us.” From the failed invitation to the underwater baby, and then to Cedric’s death, Harry no longer felt such strong emotions when he mentioned Cho. It wasn’t that he no longer liked her, but he felt that there was no longer any possibility between them.
Well, that's a pretty good reaction.
They passed a mobile phone store, and Queenie stopped him. "You said you don't have a phone? Do you want to buy one? Almost everyone has one these days. Don't you need to contact people at work?"
"Oh, I'm in Hohhot—well, I don't really need it at the company."
Queenie was tempted to ask him what kind of work he did that didn't require a cell phone, since her father was on the phone almost every day, but that was too personal, so Queenie put the thought aside for the time being.
They went into a women's shoe store, and Queenie enthusiastically picked out several pairs of high heels with suitable height to try on. She looked in the mirror and felt quite satisfied. She then walked up to Harry and asked him how they looked.
"..." Harry thought that if he were unlucky enough to get stepped on, and that thin blade could pierce his foot, even Madam Pomfrey might not be able to heal him.
"Why don't you change into something that will make you walk more steadily?" he gently advised. "I'm worried you'll twist your ankle, and that would hurt terribly."
Queenie stared at him for a while. Was he really just obediently looking at her shoes? Wasn't he at all attracted to her fair, rounded toes with painted nails and slender ankles? She unconsciously wiggled her toes. Her scumbag ex-boyfriend had clearly said her feet were incredibly beautiful.
"Your toes are moving!" Harry exclaimed, as if he had finally found a way to get to the point. He was even more enthusiastic than the sales clerk as he recommended the shoes. "You're not comfortable wearing them either, are you? Why don't you get a different pair?"
"..."
Queenie changed into a pair of silver ones, with slightly thicker heels.
Harry studied it for a while. "You're saying the heels on these shoes are thicker than the ones before?" Merlin, even with his glasses on, couldn't see the difference.
Queenie nodded. "Although it's hard to tell with the naked eye, it definitely makes walking more stable. I'm wearing it, so I can speak for myself." Just kidding, of course, a dress looks better with stilettos. She didn't want to wear short, chunky heels that made her look old-fashioned.
"Come here, let me see the effect."
Harry obediently got up and walked to her side. The two people standing together in the mirror were about four inches apart in height, and they looked quite well-matched.
Queenie nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad."
Harry stared at himself in the mirror. Would he look like this in a few years? He had to tell Ron that there was still hope for his height!
After buying the shoes, the two went to a dress boutique. Harry carried the bags for her, and Queenie looked at several dresses and liked them. In the end, she decided to choose based on color first.
What color do you like?
Harry was also overwhelmed. "Just pick the one you like."
"I have a favorite color, but I'd like to hear men's opinions."
"Then white—or blue." Of all the girls Harry had ever seen in gowns, the most beautiful was Cho, followed by his friend Hermione; the two of them were truly stunning that night at the ball.
Queenie wasn't particularly fond of white and skipped it, saying, "Blue? Cinderella? Not bad either."
The shop assistant asked her what occasion she was going to wear it so they could recommend a suitable style. Queenie told her it was for her senior year prom, so she picked out some youthful and lively styles.
Harry exclaimed in surprise, "Senior year? I thought you—"
"You're an adult?" Queenie put her index finger to her lips to shush. "It's just some little tricks. I'm seventeen this year, which is pretty much the same as being an adult."
Harry didn't comment further. He had used similar methods before, albeit wizarding ones.
"And you? How old are you?"
“I’m ten—” Harry pushed up his glasses, guessing roughly from his reflection in the mirror, “twenty-two…?”
Queenie nodded and quietly calculated, "Five years apart, not bad."
"What?"
"Oh, I meant I thought you were twenty-three or twenty-four, which is about the same as what I thought."
The shop assistant brought over a few dresses, and Queenie went into the fitting room to try them on. Through the door, which only partially blocked her view, she chatted with Harry while changing.
"Although you accepted my invitation, how was your dancing?"
“I attended the school’s Christmas dance last year—well, when I was in school.”
"Very good, it seems we need some practice."
“Oh, you’re right.” Harry recalled his clumsy dancing at the Christmas ball; if Parvati hadn’t reminded him, he might have even forgotten to put his hands on his partner’s waist.
Queenie smiled at herself in the dressing room mirror. Clothing matching, dance practice, spending almost a month together working out and getting in shape... she had so many reasons to meet, it was really nice.
But what exactly does he do for a living? Why does he have time to do this during summer vacation? Is he a teacher?
Queenie wore a blue dress covered with a layer of laser organza, and with her golden hair, she really did look like Cinderella.
Harry exclaimed sincerely, "Queenie, you look absolutely gorgeous! This dress suits you perfectly!"
Queenie looked in the mirror too. "This is only the first one, Harry. Maybe the next one will be even better."
Then Harry realized that there was no limit to how many items a girl could have next. Two hours later, Queenie finally chose a dress, which was the first one she tried on.
"Then to match my dress, you'll need to wear a tie in the same color family."
Queenie's eyes were already searching for the men's clothing store. Harry grabbed her wrist in alarm. "Hey Queenie, it's almost lunchtime. Why don't we go eat first? You treated me to lunch, now it's my turn."
That works too. When you treat someone to a meal, you can build connections through the back-and-forth.
They randomly picked an Italian restaurant; Queenie ordered seafood pasta, and Harry ordered risotto.
Queenie watched him drink his lemonade, resting her chin on her hand. "Can we start practicing tomorrow?"
Harry nodded. Anyway, he was practically invisible in the Dursleys' house, and he was prone to getting into negative emotions when he was alone, so there was nothing wrong with it.
Before she could even ponder whether their relationship had reached the point of inquiring into their privacy, Queenie asked curiously, "If I may ask, what do you do for a living? You don't need to use your phone at work, and you don't have to work during summer vacation either. A teacher? But teachers need their phones more often, right?"
"Cough cough—" Harry almost choked.
Queenie quickly handed him a tissue. "Oh, sorry, I was just curious. You don't have to answer." Surely he wasn't unemployed, right?
Harry's nervous cough prevented him from hearing Queenie's words. His mind raced. What profession? What kind of profession could possibly fit his bizarre situation as an "adult male"?
In a moment of quick thinking, he actually came up with an idea.
"I am a seaman."
He had seen interviews with sailors on television, which were quite fitting for his unusual situation; he was really clever.
"A sailor?"
Oh, Queenie understands. When you're not at sea, you can indeed be idle, but once you're on the boat, your phone is really useless.
Queenie tilted her head. Good heavens, if he's at sea for months at a time, how is she going to get through a long-distance relationship without being able to contact him?
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
