15

Surrounded by mountains, Cokeworth has always had a slightly more pleasant climate than the rest of England, with less cold winters and less excessive heat in summers. But the summer sun was fierce everywhere, and the deep shade cast dappled shadows, and the deep green almost melted into the ground. The sky was blue and everything was gilded in the hot sun.

Petunia was momentarily distracted as she looked out of the window. Sensing it, her companion touched her arm and asked thoughtfully, "Are you all right, Petunia? It's just too hot."

It was fine. Petunia recovered her senses with a thank you and looked back at the variety of flowers on the table.

They were taking a class in flower arrangement, a core subject that Elantu Girls' School prides itself on. The school is determined to train the students to be elegant and respectable ladies, and believes that these courses can well demonstrate their refined taste.

The long white table is packed with dozens of different accessories, from showy roses to elegant irises, classic cornflowers and tender stars, as well as some of the usual summer flowers. The girls each have their own vase, and they have to carefully select the right kind from these ingredients to match their own best bouquet.

Next to the woman chose pure lily with blue hyacinth, the whole bunch of flowers have taken shape. She invited Petunia cheerfully. "Well, Petunia? I think it's good."

Very beautiful, pure and elegant. Petunia duly praised her, and her companion was pleased with the comment. She returned the compliment by moving her eyes to Petunia, but paused hesitantly when she saw the match.

"Well..." She organized her words. "It's summer. But Penny, don't you think it's a little too colorful? In kind, perhaps..."

She paused gently.

Penny knew what this meant, and she chose petunias for her vase because, despite how common they are, the timing of the morning flower meant that it was not suitable for afternoon use. It looked a little dehydrated and out of its best early morning bloom.

In addition to petunias, she also chose sunflowers to go with them. The golden sunflower gives people a feeling of vitality, but it is not very suitable to match with the same bright color and warm petunias. If the overly bold color contrast is not good, it will not show the elegance of taste. And Petunia's bouquet didn't even have any fancy accessories -- it did look a little too plain, as if it had been plucked from the side of the road, and far less tasteful than other bouquets.

But what does it matter? Penny is petunia. She was born to be an ordinary person. Unlike her sister, who had a pretty face and a lovely enough personality, she was even a wizard, who fit all the beautiful imaginings of the lily that everyone had. Perhaps, when she was born, her name had already acted as a spell to determine everyone's fate.

Accepting her own ordinariness and powerlessness was always something someone like her had to go through.

"It's unimpressive, but I like it." Petunia said simply to her companion, carefully tying a ribbon around her bouquet. "There's always someone who likes even the most mundane flowers, isn't there? I don't mind being the one who appreciates it."

All right. Her companion looked at her quizzically, shrugged, and made no comment on her thoughts. After the teacher graded their works, the flowers became their own. Petunia left at the end of the class with her bouquet of flowers -- which had probably received the same mediocre passing grade as hers.

As she walked through the summer trees, Petunia habitually looked up at the sky for the sign of the owl she wanted to see, even though it had not been there for some time.

Perhaps he had forgotten, or was tired of it, Petunia told herself. He was doing a hard job, and she wasn't doing anything to help him, it wasn't any fun dealing with the thoughts of a plain, boring Muggle girl who was going to be a very successful person, and who was pretty sure to be just one of his first Muggle pen PALS in his first year...

Petunia had said this to herself so many times during that time that when she thought it now she did not feel the loss or anger. Perhaps she had grown accustomed to it.

Strangely, she knew very well that she was not going to do what she had done a year before, and treat all magical people as monsters because they had been rejected by the magical world. If she saw Snape again now, she thought she would say hello calmly, without making unkind comments about his clothes, laughing at his magic... Even though she may well be facing another rejection from those connected with magic.

She clearly felt her growth, perhaps a girl's maturity is always produced in such a moment.

Petunia held the matching bouquet in her arms as she walked along the school's shady road. Immersed in her own mind, she did not notice that the sea-shaking maturity she revealed was quietly changing her, making her peaceful and embodied. Her demure walking under the bright sunshine, with the skirts and hair swaying gently, had become a fresh landscape, which was the transformation she had longed for after realizing her own ordinariness.

She went on a little further, the sound of running footsteps approaching behind her, and then she was tapped on the shoulder. Her companion, panting, bent over, struggling to draw her breath away.

"Petunia! There you are -- the phone box under our dormitory keeps getting calls for you, and the one who gets them says you don't seem to be there, so he says he'll call back -- he's called like every five minutes, and he's called four or five times now."

Petunia paused, her heart beating violently as if it had suddenly come to life.

She'd gotten a call from the guy -- but he didn't know the pay phone number under her dorm -- but --

Petunia seized her companion's hand and asked eagerly, her voice shifting. "Did he say what his name was -- was it Eli? Smith?"

-- But she wanted it to be him.

"Yes, that's the name." Her companion nodded in confirmation, drawling her voice with a smile. "I think he has a nice voice -- when did we Petunia make such a good friend? Wait, is that mysterious friend who always writes to you..."

Ignoring her companion's teasing, Penny let go of her grip and the next second was running.

The summer wind blew on her face, lifting her golden hair and her plaid skirt. All this time she had thought of nothing. Her mind was completely empty. All the strange things she had been thinking about seemed to be thrown out of her mind at once.

The public phone box under the dormitory building rang again, and several girls sitting on the grass nearby looked at her and whispered with curious eyes. Petunia ran to the booth and, without even putting down her bouquet, picked up the phone, trying to calm her breathing.

Before she could speak, he seemed to pick up on his breath and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, didn't I bother you, Penny, calling without calling first?"

For a split second, Petunia's mind raced through at least a dozen different responses, the tone and substance of which she instinctively chose to utter an angry cry.

"And you know to call!" 'she said furiously.' What, you didn't know my contact information at school? And it took all this time to find out? Or maybe you forgot the address to write to me? Eli Smith!"

Eli was clearly taken aback by her, and for a few seconds he hesitated before continuing, with a little more caution in his voice. "I'm sorry, I know I haven't written in months because I wanted to save that sentence for now... Do you know where I'm calling you from now, Petunia?"

"Where is it? "Petunia snarled, caught up in her own inexplicable rage, unaware that she was now in the shoes of a stay-at-home wife whose husband had reappeared after a long absence on a business trip.

"The Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts." "I always thought Hogwarts was the hardest place to call, the magical field is so strong here... But Professor Dumbledore has a way! He solved the problem perfectly by installing the first magic telephone in the headmaster's office! He also generously gave me the opportunity to make the first call, thinking it would be meaningful and valuable to be the first to share the good news with a supportive friend. This is the first number dialed by the first magic phone..."

Dumbledore, headmaster! With a gasp, Petunia quickly recalled the letter she had sent a year earlier and the gentle rejection.

It was the first thing she knew, the rejection of magic.

Now it was she who spoke carefully, even with a stammer of panic. Petunia clenched the receiver and pressed it so tightly to her ear that her voice dropped nervously. "You're in the principal's office? I'm sorry, I was..."

"Oh, that doesn't matter, Professor Dumbledore is listening - or pretending to be listening, obviously he doesn't think it's a problem." Eli laughed. "Aren't you angry? That's great."

What was she so angry about? Petunia did a double take as she thought of the question in hindsight.

Eli continued: "There were a lot of problems with the promotion of the magic phone... It was a lot more high-profile and difficult than I expected, not just because of prejudice, but also because of more practical entanglements... But anyway, it's done, and it's off to a good start. Wizards will surely understand how convenient it is, and no one will refuse to improve their lives. The first magic telephone installed at Hogwarts is a start, and both the Ministry and the Wizengamot have confirmed that they are sending people to inspect it, tomorrow!"

That would be great. Penny smiled at his rare uptick and asked him, "Have you had a lot of trouble these last few months?"

"I think so, but it doesn't matter." Eli smiled and said with understatement, "Everything is going to be difficult, and the only thing we can do is try to overcome it -- and it took me months to do it, though most of it wasn't my doing. But I wanted to share it with you first... Penny, your unwavering support means the world to me and encourages me greatly."

Petunia was entrapedly listening and felt that something inside her that had been holding for so long was beginning to flood again, slowly slipping out of her control.

If he thought she was that important...

"But I don't just want to know." She cut Eli short with a sudden sound.

Eli paused unexpectedly. "... What?"

"I don't want to keep worrying about you in the dark, only to find out at the end." "I know you probably don't want me to worry, and I know I can't really do anything... But if you think I'm important to you, don't leave me out of the rough times next time!"

Eli on the other end of the line listened quietly and didn't chime in.

Petunia wanted to cry a little. She knew it wasn't because she was disappointed in Eli, she knew there was nothing wrong with his choices, that he was doing things that even Lily didn't know, that they were so close... Why would she make such unreasonable demands? Even if Eli could tell her all about it later, what's the point?

Silently, she hugged the bouquet in her hands, as if hoping that these ordinary flowers would give her more support and courage in this moment.

"I see." Eli on the other end of the line said suddenly. "I've wanted to write to you a few times late at night after reading those witches' letters, to talk about the wizards' conservative views and opinions, and to share the small progress and changes. But in the end, I didn't write any of them. I think they would only add unnecessary trouble to your life... When people read a story book, they don't worry too much when they see the tough part of the plot, but that's not what happens in reality. It doesn't always end well, and I thought I shouldn't transfer that stress to you."

Penny listened quietly, and Eli chuckled.

"I think you'll probably be a Gryffindor, too, if you ever come to Hogwarts," said Harry. "He said." Gryffindor never lacks courage -- sorry, I think I know better how to treat my extras Gryffindor friends now."

Petunia smiled. Lily, who was in the house, knew something about it -- he said she was brave, but could she really act a little braver, like a Gryffindor?

She looked down at the golden petals of the sunflower, holding the phone in one hand and the bouquet in the other. The bright summer sun beat down on her through the window of the telephone box. She whispered into the phone, "It's early July for your summer vacation, right? Are you coming back with Lily? I..."

She closed her eyes, leaned close to the flowers that seemed to contain the warmth of the sun, and whispered, "I should like to see you."