Eventually, Aurora got a summer job at a magic pet store. The owner was Mrs. Brent, an old woman with fluffy linen curls, sunken tawny eyes, heavy crystal glasses, and always a clean woolen shawl of faded Parmesan coarse knitting, even in July.
It was a coincidence that Aurora got the job, but not a complete surprise. For when she entered the shop, all the magic pets were quiet and staring at her. Mrs. Brent noticed that the little girl had an easy way to approach the cranky little creatures. It usually took her two days to check the health of each magical pet, but Aurora did it in one morning because the pets were so cooperative.
Mrs. Blunt saw no reason at all to refuse the little girl.
Aurora stayed at the magical pet shop in Diagon Alley for the better part of a month, cleaning cages and feeding the pets to make sure they were healthy. Thanks to this experience, she had memorized the Cleansing Curse perfectly, but could not practice it.
Before leaving Hogwarts, every new student was sternly warned not to use magic outside school or risk being expelled. Aurora had no intention of testing the Ministry's execution and agility.
Mrs. Blunt was a delicate woman, with the ease and manner of an old, well-behaved family. This can be seen in the details of her outfit, most of which are not new and flashy, but are certainly neat and presentable. Even the hem is spotless, and every curl is in its place. Even though the shop was busy, 3:30 every afternoon was tea time.
The old lady loved black tea and always had fruit shortbread, filled with sweet dried fruit and topped with a thin layer of icing sugar. The first time Aurora ate it, she was sure that her employer would have a sweet tooth in common with Headmaster Dumbledore.
After a dozen days of eating sorrowfully sweet fruit shortbread, Aurora offered to make her own tea because she realized that the old lady could only make one kind of cookie, which was a nightmare.
Thanks to Helga Hufflepuff's culinary talents, which extend to most of the Hufflepuffs, Aurora makes several apple cinnamon cookies and strong tea cakes, using existing ingredients. It was so that every teatime would not have to be spent muttering Dumbledore's name and making a hollow cross.
The peak season for the Magical Pet shop is July every year, when Hogwarts is full of new students. Each of the boy wizards who received the admission letter, along with their guardians or teachers, swarmed into the crowded, bustling Diagon Alley in just a few days, making the already small, curving alleys even more crowded.
Beverly worked across the street at Flourish and Blotts, where the receptionist folded thousands of paper cranes from each stapled sheet and sent them flying into Beverly's hands. The brunette went from shelf to shelf all day, sometimes coming across some cranky books that seniors needed to buy, and having to work hard to get them to go with the buyer.
The Monster Book of Monsters is probably the most difficult book Beverly has ever encountered. Because of their ferocious nature, they even had to be collectively locked in a special iron cage to bite each other, while the manager had to use his wand over and over again to rescue and restore books that were about to be torn apart by his companions.
So Beverly had taken to tying her hair up and wearing a wizard's hat to protect it all. This works because you never know what really interesting books might be on the shelves you pass.
There was a bloody example last week when the new Ravenclaw girl had been forced to say goodbye to her flowing golden brown locks because she had not tied them. She now looks at herself in the mirror every day, her hair short to her ears, her eyes as red as if she had just applied an onion.
As for the Invisible Book of Invisibility, Merlin just knew where they were.
But that was not what made Beverly upset and unhappy.
What she really didn't like was Mr. Lockhart, who came into the bookstore every day for his book signings and bragged about the legends he had written in them, with his coat always slouchy over his shoulders and his hair brushed. Beverly could no more appreciate a man's love of grapefruit than she could appreciate Lockhart's foolish smile at everyone who approached him.
In short, everything about this man is a sign that he is grandiose and unrealistic. And because of the relationship between traveling with Master in England since childhood, Beverly unfortunately realized this on the second day of his appearance. But his fans and the Daily Prophet reporters seemed unable to notice, and the modest bookshop was almost overwhelmed by the number of people who came every day.
Halfway through the summer break, Diagon Alley had lost its buzz. Only a few freshmen who have saved enough money come to Diagon Alley to buy things for the start of the semester.
She kept up a correspondence with Vaux, who would send her photos and mechanical gadgets she had invented at home, and Aurora would send her handmade cookies in return.
The days glide slowly along the river in white paper boats, with the hooting of owls and cats, in cups of pure, rich black tea, and plates of sweet-smelling scones, swaying and safe. It always toward the front, but do not know the next station will be through what kind of scene.
Aurora sat on a high stool in front of the Enchanted Pet Store window every day, watching the people go by and listening to Mrs. Brent talk about Newt Scamander, the authority on Magical Animals she had admired in her youth, which was the reason she had decided to open the Enchanted pet store. Aurora guessed that the reason the old lady liked her so much was because her talent was similar to Newt's.
She was suddenly curious about the man who had the same gift decades before her.
As we slipped into August, the rain began to rain steadily again in London. In a clear sky, the trees of the mountains were clearly visible, and all that was left was a thin bluish-blue outline. Every shop in Diagon Alley was cloaked in rain and fog, severely hampering the flow of shoppers.
The bookshop was much busier than the pet store, and Beverly skipped meals most of the time, and Aurora went to her every day with hot meals. The two children were huddled on the stone steps under the eaves, eating and talking slowly with their lunch boxes, while the transparent raindrops in front of them, like a curtain, stretched from the top to the ground and burst into water.
At the beginning of August, the Magic Pet store took several orders for home delivery. The man who placed the order went back to Mrs. Blunt, from the days before her family was lost. They asked for a snow owl and a long-tailed wood owl to be sent home as messenger pets for the children who were about to go to wizardry school.
In the past Mrs. Brent had done this herself, but this time she had been in bed for several days because of an old problem. Aurora had been in charge of the shop these days, and even the broom owner next door was surprised to see it. She's a kid who just turned 12.
Finally, Aurora decided to send the owl to the sender's address left on the letter, and Mrs. Blunt gave her a simple map, again without the North, south, east, and west. Aurora sighed when she got the map, looked at the old woman's terrible condition and knew she could not ask for more.
Before she left, she cleaned the shop thoroughly, took in all the magic pets that had hung outside, and locked the door.
It was not a good day to go out, and the rain was so dense that the colours of all the houses and trees were lost in the torrential downpour, and everything ten metres away was blurred.
Aurora put on a raincoat and wellies and covered the cage with a piece of nylon cloth, leaving a gap at the bottom edge to give the owls room to breathe. Then she held the umbrella, into the cool transparent curtain of rain, walking all the way to the destination.
She began to miss the young thestrals. Thestrals never make a mistake in leading the way, a talent that made people jealous.
She started at noon, and Mrs. Blunt told her that if all went well, she would be at the family yard door in half an hour. But Aurora didn't hope for the best in her words. She knew all too well her ability to get lost.
So when she asked her destination all the way, she was not surprised to find that the time was just before 1 p.m.
After nearly an hour of walking in the rain, Aurora had lost all hope of the cleanliness of her own appearance, except for the customary smile that showed her little white teeth as she handed over the two owls: "Thirty-five Galleons and eight silver cocks."
She put the money in a small cloth bag and handed it to Aurora, and the black iron gate closed tightly in front of her.
Aurora put the umbrella on her shoulder, tilted it sideways with her head, opened the bag, counted it, and pocketed it. As his rain-soaked hand pulled it out of his pocket, he implicated the map, and it fell to the ground, quickly becoming a mass of black ink-stained paper. She sighed as she looked back at the misty country road and the brown mud beneath her hem.
The rain worked as fast as it could to soften the surface of the earth and smooth away all traces of its arrival. Aurora made her way through the forest path by memory, separated by layers of leaves, the rain no longer enveloped her, and the air was thick with the smell of actinomycetes and humus.
The rain in the forest is light green. It's an illusory color that only occurs when they're free to fall, and disappears when they hit the ground or are caught on the surface of the umbrella.
The scene reminded Aurora of Plymouth, the quiet, laid-back seaside hill town that was her home in the world. Tea Roll was very happy to be back in the forest he knew. Sitting on Aurora's shoulder, he shook the two green leaves on his head and stretched out his slender fingers to try to reach the clear rain.
But by the time she had recovered from this trance of intimacy, she could not find her way back at all.
There was a fork in the road, left and right, that looked exactly the same.
Aurora had walked part of both ways, unable to remember where she had come from. She waited there for some time. No one passed by. It seemed that she really had to guess by chance.
She thought for a long time, until the rain had stopped, and finally decided to go left. Wherever you go, as long as you see people, just ask for directions and get back. The worst thing you'll do is miss dinner for hours.
After making up her mind, Aurora comforted herself with her umbrella and stepped up the path on her left, which was full of rotting leaves.
She kept her father's pocket watch in her hand, checking the time as she walked, the second hand ticking, walking carelessly and conscientiously. Aurora was relieved when the forest opened up around her and there were flagstones and alleys before her. I also noticed that my calves and feet were sore from the long walk.
As she ran down the alley with her teeth clenched and her feet trodden on the smooth, hard stone, Aurora was completely relieved. But when she looked up to see what was in front of her, she was stunned. It did not look like Diagon Alley.
Black, as if left by a fire, covered every corner of the alley. The people were all dressed in dirty old black clothes and walked with a rigidity that human beings could not achieve. The wizard closest to Aurora was crouching on the ground with a half-rotten frog in his hand, and at his feet a wet brown tabby cat with only one eye and a terrible thin look.
Perhaps Aurora's appearance made them feel interesting, and gradually a lot of people began to gather around them.
A dry, gray hand rested on Aurora's shoulder. Its owner was as thin and sickly as it was, and the veins were creeping all over her forehead and the back of her hand, like so many small snakes. She had just touched Aurora, who almost jumped up in terror.
"What can I do for you, dear?" She grinned, her thin black and yellow teeth showing, her voice cracking. The tea roll jumped out from under Aurora's rain hat and jabbed her finger so hard at the back of the woman's hand that she screamed in pain.
The little girl hurriedly clutched the tea roll in her hands, grabbed the umbrella in her hand and ran forward as hard as she could. Everyone along the way was watching her, with a strange smile on their face, as if they were watching a dying rabbit.
She did not know how long she had been running until a large, brightly lit shop appeared before her. It was about the only place in the alley with lights on, so Aurora ran in almost without thinking.
By the time the door was closed, she was so tired that she could hardly stand. She looked back and saw the grim, laughing men standing outside the glass Windows, pointing at her with expressions that reminded her of the Petersons of Plymouth.
Wiping the sweat and rain from her face, she looked back into the shop and knew immediately that she was in the wrong place.
This place is full of grotesque horrors. A shrivelled hand on a cushion, a string of sharp objects dangling from the low, subdued ceiling, bloodied playing cards, a bare eye staring at her, and on the walls were masks with a ghastly expression, indistishable in the light from their material, something between skin and rubber.
For some reason, Aurora remembered a ghost story told by the senior Gryffindors on Halloween at school about how a horrible dark magic could be used to make the faces of people who had been frightened to death remain as they were before they died, making them look like they were forever screaming and terrified. At this time, the skin of their faces could be peeled off to make a mask with the most terrifying effect.
The eye wandered to the far end of the empty room, where a tall, smooth counter held various human skulls.
This is no place to be!
Aurora felt as if the rain had frozen all over her body, and the inexplicable cold almost made her teeth chatter. Her brain immediately ordered her rigid limbs to run!
Without hesitation, she turned around and saw through the chequered glass window in front of her two men approaching. Aurora looked around quickly, then ducked behind the dark satin curtain on her left.
She could not say why, but the circumstances did not permit her to think so much. It is probably the instinct of all human beings to steer clear of unknowable dangers.
There was a huge bookcase hidden behind a curtain, and the floor was littered with books. Aurora looked down at random to see where she could put her foot. She could barely make out the words "black magic" and "Monster Book" in the Latin and Gothic scrawls.
There was the sound of a door opening, then footsteps and voices. Aurora crouched in a small space surrounded by books, her hands shaking as she held the tea roll. She could feel herself sweating, but her back was so cold that she felt like shaking.
"Oh, yes, yes, I do have these special books." She heard a silky voice say, in a tone that reminded one of the fluidity of a viper swimming through a swamp. "But to be honest, I was really surprised to see you again. I thought you'd never come here again."
"If there's anything I want here." "Said another voice, deep and drawling, like the slow plucking of a cello string. Aurora could almost imagine the way the man spoke, with one hand across his waist and the other holding the side edge of his robe habitually, expressionless.
Severus Snape.
She was sure.
'You're not afraid of the Ministry coming after you again?
"They're just as likely to come after me if I don't."
"All right." The other smiled. "I'll find what you want. You're in luck with the latest arrivals."
Aurora, startled at the sound of approaching footsteps, rose quickly. The tea roll climbed onto her shoulder and raised her finger menacingly.
She stepped back and bumped into the bookcase behind her, hitting her head with something heavy and hard with a corner and falling into her rain hat. Aurora stifled silence, reaching back to grab the object that had fallen into her hat, the top of her head tingling with pain.
The tea roll, startled by what had just fallen, climbed up the bookcase to the locked floor-to-ceiling window and opened the lock easily with his nimble, lanky fingers.
Ignoring the danger and consequences of being discovered, Aurora pounced on the tea roll in her hands and ran out the window for her life.