• seventeen •

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Corben sat on the floor and stared intently at the telephone on his bed, as though expecting it to suddenly explode and burst into flames.

He and Theo had gone to the mall earlier. Their primary intention was to buy a telephone for Corben, but they had ended up buying two – the second one to keep with Blaise and Theo. Theo wasn't particularly fond of the idea of owning a muggle contraption, but when Corben kept insisting, he finally complied.

They had brought one salesperson from the mall to help them insert the telephone at home. They had to remove any signs of magic before bringing him home, but he had still freaked out upon seeing how ignorant Corben and Theo were about electrical equipments. Nevertheless, he had done his work well, although he did run away from their flat at high speed as though he was expecting the two young men to eat him alive.

Corben stared at the small piece of parchment in his hands, upon which was scribbled a phone number. He has been considering for the past half hour whether to dial the number or not. A couple of times, his hands have reached towards the phone, but retracted once again. Finally, he took a deep breath and dialled the number.

A few seconds later, a voice sounded from inside the receiver, making Corben jump.

"Hello, who is this?" spoke Harry, and it took him a while to get his heartbeat under control. It almost felt like Harry was right there, in his room, and he glanced around instinctively to check if he really was there. It made him feel foolish.

"Hello?" Harry spoke again, not getting an answer.

Corben cleared his throat. "Uh – Harry? It's me. Corben."

"Corben!" The tone of excitement in Harry's voice made him feel strangely happy. "You bought a telephone? What a surprise."

He laughed shyly, scooting closer to the table and encircling the telephone with his arm. "Yes. Theo and I went shopping today and I saw the telephones in one store. I remembered you once asked me if I had one, so I decided to buy it."

Corben was just rambling at this point. He didn't know what made him tell the lie, but now there was no turning back. He wished he could slap himself.

"That's good," Harry laughed. "Now you no longer have to be mad at me because I overthink before sending you letters. Just call whenever you feel like it. Where did you get my number, by the way?"

"I asked Ron when I went to the Ministry," he said. "He seemed slightly suspicious though," he added as an afterthought.

He heard Harry laugh on the other side of the phone. "That's Ron."

There was brief pause. Corben could hear Harry's breathing on the other side. He began to make knots with the convoluted cable of the telephone.

"How are you holding up, Corben?"

"Perfectly. Are you sure about Christmas, Harry?"

Corben was feeling less and less willing to visit the Weasleys for Christmas. He wasn't receiving much of a good treatment at the Ministry, where Audra and Harry were the only ones who did not look at him with disgust. But after Affrodile Zabini's sentence has been delivered, there was little else that Corben could think about, consequently making him quite immune to the harsh words that people threw his way.

He wondered how people could be so heartless to take someone's life that way. His mother was quite possibly a psychopath, but the Aurors certainly weren't. Would they be able to live the rest of their lives in peace knowing that they have been actively responsible for someone's death? Corben certainly wouldn't. If being an Auror meant being merciless, then he wasn't sure he was suitable for the position.

apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓Where stories live. Discover now