The elevator opened in the central area of the Floating Island, and the people streamed out. Ron laughed heartily, "Floating Island, I'm back." Behind him followed a short-haired witch, holding hands with a little red-haired girl.
"Stop it," Collins scolded Ron, looking around, "Should we meet up with our family first?"
"It's okay," Ron said softly, rubbing his shoulder and picking up the little red-haired girl, "Percy won't arrive until the afternoon. Let's walk around nearby and then head to the hotel. I heard many old friends are staying there, and there's a party tonight."
The three stood on the bustling street, watching the passersby.
"What a pity Hugo couldn't come, but one is enough trouble," Ron said cheerfully, "Take lots of photos, and we'll tell him about it when we get back."
"Aren't you the one who said it might be dangerous?" Collins said irritably, "That's why we left him with my mom."
"I did say that, but the danger isn't for us," Ron boasted, puffing up his chest, "You can go wherever you want, don't forget my nickname."
Collins really felt like rolling her eyes then.
"Can I go play in Knockturn Alley?" the little red-haired girl asked, sucking on her finger.
"Rose, we're thousands of miles from Knockturn Alley, but... of course," Ron said without a second thought, "Next time the department searches for contraband, we'll sneak in with the Auror team—wait, your mom's in charge of that." Rose looked at Collins, hoping to see a hint of nepotism, then silently looked away, saying no more.
"Can you two not always talk about illegal activities, making me seem like a bad mom?" Collins complained.
"Alright, Rose, let's talk about something else, given you have a mom who's the head of the Auror Office." Ron said, "Your uncle recently raided the Malfoy's—our family's arch-enemy. Merlin, Harry must've wanted to use that to mark a significant chapter in his career. Sadly, they only caught a few small fries, but I bet old Malfoy was scared stiff... He has a son who was somewhat presentable, didn't get along with us in school, your dad always outperformed him—"
Collins gave a sideways glance at Ron, who was engagingly narrating to an admiring Rose.
"Are you sure? If I may ask..."
"Ahem, in some subjects," Ron quickly corrected himself, "Absolutely true, Harry can back me up!"
As they meandered aimlessly through the winding streets, which branched off in every direction, they occasionally found themselves facing a wall and had to magic a narrow stone path open. On the island, it was easy to distinguish wizarding buildings from government institutions and research facilities. To them, the lack of planning seemed amusing, in stark contrast to the neatly arranged, diverse buildings and stores.
"Square and spotless, everything symmetrical, like old Crouch's mustache, measured with a ruler—quite scary."
This was the central area of the Floating Island, where, it was said, the bonfire party had been held years ago. Some commemorative landmarks remained, like a group of statues in the center of a pond, each holding an ever-burning torch; magical creature-shaped trash bins that would open their mouths to swallow trash when tapped on the head, some even burping amusingly.
Aside from shops and street scenes, there were vendors pushing carts. Ron was intrigued by a set of simple diving gear at one stall, "Your grandpa would love this, though he probably already has one. His personal garage expanded four times after retirement!" They also discovered Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products.
"Are these selling well?" Ron inquired of the vendor.
"Extremely well, especially these two. There's a discount if you buy them together, sir, ma'am." The vendor enthusiastically recommended two products, underwater fireworks and a type of smoke cloak, seemingly a collaborative product between Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and Diggle. Ron paid, then asked Collins, "Fred and George mentioned researching underwater fireworks a while ago, but when did Cedric enter the joke market?"
As fellow Triwizard Champions, Collins had maintained a good relationship with Cedric and Roger Davies, knowing more about their recent activities.
"They haven't, he and Cho Chang." Collins explained, "In recent years, they've focused on charity work. Cedric's transforming smoke has a wide application in the medical field, and various magical dolls are equally useful. However, he joined the 'Floating Island Commercial Safety Protocol' to ensure his inventions aren't used for military or illegal purposes, with two thousand investigators from the International Pan-Magical Alliance ensuring this worldwide."
"There are fairies inside!" their daughter Rose
exclaimed.
"There are a hundred fairies, you know, they take their possessions very seriously," Collins explained to her daughter, "Many Muggle doctors take pride in owning a set of fairy-enchanted surgical tools, though they're quite rare..."
"Why?" Rose asked.
"Well, that's a matter of ownership disputes. The Alliance allows fairies to maintain their racial traditions, but they must sign a notification document when trading with other races, or the transaction isn't protected; and fairies are known for their stubbornness."
"Don't be fooled, those fairies are shrewd," Ron interjected, "I've confiscated contraband, including some fairy-made silverware, but the fairies refuse to admit it, claiming there's no signature on the pieces!"
Collins was surprised, "That completely contradicts fairy principles, are you sure it's fairy-made?"
"Of course," Ron assured, "You can tell by their eyes. Think about it, when the desire to make money conflicts with traditional views... some fairies choose to remain anonymous and sell to the black market; a bunch of cunning creatures! But sometimes fairies intentionally inscribe spiteful messages, I remember a doctor mentioned in the newspaper had 'miser' engraved on his surgical scalpel... perhaps fairy naming styles have changed, I just know beards grow long, and slobs stay slobs." He added.
Collins and Rose burst into laughter, and then Ron's attention was caught by something else. Collins followed his gaze to a hat stall not far away, where a broad-chested man stood.
Ron looked away, muttering, "Must've been mistaken, I hardly remember..."
"Who are you talking about?"
"Harry's cousin! He brought gifts to Harry and Ginny's wedding."
Collins then understood and looked towards the hat stall, but the man had already disappeared into the crowd. They walked in the opposite direction, stopping at a theater with a huge poster, "François Crutoy's exclusive concert," Ron read aloud, "Wanna try?" Rose nodded eagerly.
Collins pointed at the concert date on the poster, which was yesterday.
"Oh, that's too bad." Ron and Rose said. Ron added, "Actually, it's good we missed it, we can save our energy for the mascot show, shame there's no Veela this year, I saw them a long time ago, that feeling—"
"Ron!"
"Ah, nothing interesting." Ron seriously told Rose, who was curiously blinking, "You're a girl, if your brother came—" "My brother's only three." "—Oh, right, you reminded me... Want some ice cream?" He quickly changed the subject, as Collins' eyes were almost shooting fire.
The family stood grumpily in front of a mobile ice cream cart.
"Is business good?"
"Not bad."
While Collins and Rose were choosing ice creams, Ron struck up a conversation with the owner, and within two minutes, they were discussing the price of the ice cream cart. "I've always wanted one," Ron said enviously, and the owner replied, "Five hundred Galleons. But you can rent it, just two Galleons a day, register on the island."
Ron's eyes sparkled, and Collins had made her choice, "One strawberry peanut butter ice cream, one Floating Island chocolate nut ice cream. What about you, Ron?"
"I'll have the chocolate," Ron said. Collins pouted at him, and he quickly said, "We can share."
The owner got busy, taking out his wand—Ron stared at the row of gems on it and let out a weird cry—"I'm a low-magic wizard." The owner said, slightly annoyed. Then the gems on the wand lit up one by one, he waved his wand, and quickly, three servings of ice cream were ready. The strawberry one looked like flowing lava, and the chocolate one seemed like a flattened ice cream topped with colorful candy sprinkles. But what mattered was: a chocolate snake, hissing at them.
"I get it, a chocolate snake, but it's not biting its tail—what's that?" Ron pointed at the colorful crumbs.
"The houses on Floating Island," the owner said, "The snake doesn't bite its tail because it has another function, it will compete with you—" He abruptly stopped.
"What did you say?" Ron asked, handing a chocolate ice cream to Rose and casually biting off the snake's head.
The owner was speechless.
Perhaps sensing the owner's distress, Collins asked, "Is your wand custom-made? I mean the magic on it, your casting was very smooth, seamless..."
"Ah, yes," the owner said, relieved, "Future World Company offers customization services, but now they've outsourced this business to a few other companies. There are wizards specializing in this, they call it... magic path design, achieving a series of complex effects with limited magic. It's not just about making ice cream, it's used in all industries
. Quite impressive."
Suddenly, a commotion erupted on the street, and a crowd quickly gathered.
"There's a fight!"
The ice cream owner nonchalantly pressed a red button on the cart in front of Ron's family, then proudly said, "This is a positioning and alarm device, in just twenty seconds, someone on duty will—what are you doing?"
Ron and Collins raised their wands, ready for battle. But after a few seconds, it seemed to be just a typical drunken brawl.
"Leave it to me." Ron said confidently, suddenly holding a black chess piece, throwing it towards the crowd. The 'knight' piece came to life mid-air, growing larger—"Bang!" The knight, along with the horse, landed heavily, creating a deep pit; the obsidian-like horse pawed the ground aggressively, half-protected by the knight's steel armor, towering over twelve or thirteen feet tall. Everyone was startled by the sudden appearance of this behemoth.
"Non-involved individuals—retreat!" the knight commanded from atop his horse.
His armor gleamed with a metallic luster, then the knight's helmet visor popped open, revealing a face strikingly similar to Ron's. The crowd made way, and two drunken men stared, trembling in place, at the black knight advancing towards them on horseback. The knight's broadsword seemed like a massive door, capable of flattening them in one swing. He moved slowly, but no one doubted the explosive force he could unleash if he charged.
The troublemakers sobered up instantly, letting go of each other.
"Look." Ron said proudly, walking over to speak, but two wizards appeared out of nowhere.
"What happened here?" one asked sternly. The tourists remained silent, instead turning to look behind him. The wizard turned stiffly, "Hiss!" He stepped back, fumbling for a device similar to a walkie-talkie, ready to call for backup.
"Stop!" Ron and another wizard shouted simultaneously.
A few minutes later, the knight vanished, reverting to a chess piece. Ron walked back with Tonks, looking somewhat dejected.
"See if you show off like that again." Collins chided.
"He did help, though," Tonks said objectively, causing Ron to beam with joy, only to hear Tonks continue, "At least he didn't throw out a complete set of wizard chess. From that perspective..."
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