"My name is Quinn Travers."
The purple-robed wizard straightened his crooked Half-moon Spectacles, then held out a hand to Lin Ze.
His fingers were still sticky with juice from peeling the orange earlier.
Noticing that his hand wasn't very clean, he casually wiped it twice on his purple robes.
"Thanks so much for earlier. If you hadn't been drawing their fire up front, I might never have had the chance to flatten those fellows under my wheels in one go."
Lin Ze looked at the offered hand of friendship, which still smelled of oranges. Though he inwardly recoiled a little, he reached out and shook it.
He found that Travers had a surprisingly strong grip, completely at odds with his skeletal appearance, as though a gust of wind could blow him away at any moment.
Only...
The surname Travers seemed...
Forget it. At least the man in front of me isn't an enemy.
Lin Ze raised an eyebrow. "So you crashed down on purpose?"
"Not quite."
Quinn was perfectly honest. "I really couldn't brake in time. But it worked out well, didn't it?"
"Look, we're both fine, and so is our pointy-eared friend over there."
He jerked his chin toward the goblin still crouching in the corner clutching the tin box. "Isn't that the best possible outcome?"
The goblin poked half his head out from behind the tin box, his pointed ears twitching, and muttered, "We goblins call that a blind cat stumbling across a dead mouse."
But Quinn didn't hear the goblin's muttering at all.
He was crouched on the ground, searching an unconscious Death Eater's robe pockets with practiced hands.
"What are you looking for?" Lin Ze asked.
"Looking for... Hmm? Nothing... Just having a look." Quinn pulled a silver cigarette case from the Death Eater's pocket, opened it to inspect its contents, curled his lip, and stuffed it back.
"Why don't these people bring anything valuable when they go out? It's all little Dark Magic gadgets. I'd have to find somewhere to destroy them if I took them home. What a nuisance..."
Lin Ze: "..."
So you're here to scrounge some loot?
Quinn stood up, grimacing as he supported his lower back.
Looking at Lin Ze, he suddenly asked a completely unrelated question. "Do you drink tea?"
"Drink... what?"
"Tea," Quinn repeated.
"Earl Grey, with a slice of lemon and no sugar. There's a lemon tree in my yard, and it's done especially well this year. Every lemon is as big as a fist. My wife makes lemon marmalade with them. It's wonderfully fragrant on toast."
Lin Ze felt he was having trouble following the man's train of thought.
Three minutes ago, they had been fighting Death Eaters for their lives. Now this purple-robed wizard was discussing lemon trees with him.
But honestly, compared with those Death Eaters who kept casting Avada Kedavra at the drop of a hat, Quinn's disjointed way of chatting actually put him at ease.
"May I ask where you live?" Lin Ze asked casually.
"Godric's Hollow," Quinn said.
"A white house beside a church, with two beech trees out front. Easy to recognize. Drop in if you're ever passing by. I'll have my wife make you some lemon egg tarts."
Lin Ze went rigid.
Godric's Hollow.
The Potter family's address.
The place Voldemort would be going tonight.
"You... live in Godric's Hollow?" Lin Ze tried to keep his voice from sounding too surprised.
"Yes. My surname may be Travers, but our branch left the Travers ancestral home many years ago."
Quinn didn't notice the change in Lin Ze's tone at all and went on talking. "Everything about the place is lovely, except that it's too quiet."
"Quiet?" Lin Ze repeated the word instinctively.
Images of what would happen in Godric's Hollow tonight surfaced in his mind.
The noseless Voldemort arriving at the door, the green light of the Killing Curse shining through the windows, a baby's cries piercing the night sky...
That place would be anything but quiet tonight.
"Yes, so quiet it makes you uneasy." Quinn seemed not to notice Lin Ze's distraction and rambled on while rubbing his lower back.
"There are only a handful of households on the entire street. The neighbors on my left are an elderly couple with over a dozen cats. Dumbledore..."
He suddenly paused, then waved a hand. "Never mind, never mind. Let's not get into that..."
If it was Aberforth's fence you crashed into, being chased for three streets was already letting you off lightly, Lin Ze thought.
"Do you know a family named Potter, then?" Lin Ze asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"Potter? Let me think..." Quinn tilted his head in thought.
"Ah, yes, there is a family by that name. I think the husband's called James. His hair looks like a bird's nest. Every time he goes out, his wife chases after him, shouting for him to go back and change his clothes."
"I remember the woman has a lovely smile, though she's a bit fierce when she talks. Once, I was passing by and saw her giving James a scolding like he was some little kid."
He smiled, then sighed. "They have a newborn, a little boy. That child loves to smile. Every time I cycle past their house, he leans against the glass and giggles."
At that, the light in his eyes dimmed a little.
"But the house has been quiet lately. The windows are shut tight. My wife says they've probably gone traveling..."
Quinn casually tossed the remaining orange peel into a nearby bin, then bent down to pick up his bicycle, which was now mangled beyond recognition.
He crouched on the ground and studied the twisted heap of metal with his head tilted for a while, then stood and wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
"Um... could I trouble you to cast a Mending Charm on my bicycle?"
"A Mending Charm?" Lin Ze looked down at the metal wreckage, where he could no longer tell the handlebars from the pedals.
"Are you sure this thing can still be fixed?"
"Give it a try. What if it works?"
Lin Ze sighed, drew his wand, and cast a Mending Charm at the pile of scrap.
A string of blue sparks burst from the tip of his wand, and the scrap metal let out a teeth-grating creak.
The front wheel barely regained its circular shape, but the basket was still flat, the chain was broken into three pieces, one pedal was missing, and the seat sat at a forty-five-degree angle. Most importantly, the two wheels were no longer even aligned on the same plane.
"Uh..." Looking at the results of his repairs, Lin Ze scratched his head in embarrassment.
"My Mending Charm might still be at a beginner's level."
"It's already very good!" Quinn didn't mind in the slightest. He circled his bicycle, looking as though he were admiring a work of art.
"Look, the front wheel turns! That's better than I expected."
He straddled the crooked bicycle and pushed off the ground with one foot. It wobbled forward half a meter, the chain screeching as the seat sank another notch.
"It's still rideable!" Quinn said delightedly.
Looking at the bicycle that seemed ready to fall apart at any moment, Lin Ze sincerely felt that Mr. Travers's optimism was worth learning from.
"Um... gentlemen..."
The goblin crouching in the corner spoke cautiously. "Now that it's safe, could I..."
"Oh, right. I almost forgot about you..."
Only then did Lin Ze remember the goblin. He looked down at him. "What's your name? Are you from Gringotts?"
"Grot." The goblin straightened up, though standing didn't make him much taller than crouching. "Gringotts London branch, Valuables Custody Department, third-class consultant."
"Third-class?"
"The lowest rank," Grot admitted readily.