Ivy Binns has hated Regulus Black for almost ever since she laid her eyes on him. She believed his sole purpose in life was to annoy her. But could one moment of vulnerability make her see him in a new light? Could a single purpose bind them togethe...
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Regulus walked into a noisy muggle street, feeling a bit like an imposter. Everyone was so normal. He wondered how they would react if they found out there was a wizard among them.
Or better yet, he wondered, how many of these normal looking people were wizards themselves? Was it the old man who sat on the bench, a newsboy cap perched on his head as he read a newspaper, occasionally throwing birdseed to the birds flying around him. Or was it one of the young girls standing at the nursery and buying flowers? Or was it the florist herself who had secretly used magic potions and herbology tricks to keep the flowers fresh and aromatic for long. It felt a little amusing. He felt like he was in on a secret from the world and it seemed exciting.
But most of all, he was gripped by the normalcy of everything. Ordinary muggles leading ordinary lives. They looked just like the wizard folk on the outside. They bled like them on the inside as well. The magic creating all the difference was invisible itself.
Regulus walked a little further until he spotted a glass cubicle booth- exactly like Ivy had told him what it would look like. A red exterior with 'Telephone' written across the top.
The booth was currently occupied by a middle aged woman. Regulus could see her twirling the phone cord around her finger through the glass in its walls. Regulus clutched the paper tightly in his hands, going over the number once more as he patiently waited for the woman to finish. He had read the phone number so many times that he could recite it by memory now.
The woman came out and Regulus stepped in, looking at the telephone in front of him. It was ridiculous that he felt nervous about using a muggle gadget. Nevertheless, he took out the muggle coins Ivy had sent him with one of their recent letters and inserted it into the slot as per her instructions. As he dialed the number, inserting his finger into the number required and rotating it, he wondered how it was still possible for muggles to have created something like this. He believed letters were far more classy and traditional. She had told him he would be able to hear her using this, like a real life conversation except he wouldn't be able to see her. Muggles were weird. What was next? An invention where he could talk and see?
Even wizards had not come up with something like this. They had their own versions of communication. Howlers served as voiced messages but not a means of conversation. But through this they'd be able to converse like in person. Still unbelievable. How did muggles even come up with all this? Wasn't it weird just standing there talking to yourself in a weird handle? These were all the questions that had led him to sneak out of his house and come to a muggle neighbourhood to use the Telephone booth today.
He had told Ivy he didn't believe anything she had told him about muggle inventions. Partially because he really didn't want to admit muggles could be smarter than wizards, but mostly because he believed the longer he refused her, the longer their conversation would go on. He was a little scared that if he just agreed with everything she said, they'd run out of things to talk about and she'd get bored and stop answering his letters. So he argued with her to keep the conversation going as long as it could. They'd already made it to a month. In the end, Ivy had just told him to go and see the telephone booth for himself if he didn't believe her.
