Chapter 74: Date?

Chapter 74: Date?

Tom shook his head, trying to shake off the dizziness of the portkey after-use while inwardly feeling amused at the groaning bodies lying in the grass around him.

It was a very disorienting experience, especially for a first-timer like him, but Tom couldn't see what was the big deal with almost everybody landing on their ass rather than feet. Neither he nor Natasha had any problem twisting themselves into the correct position after they were spat out of the magical wormhole or whatever that was.

Sure, their landing was rough and fast, unlike both Cedric and his father who definitely had prior experience and knew the trick to a safe and slow landing, but they landed on their feet and that was what really mattered, in Tom's opinion.

The portkey... now that was a very insightful experience for Tom. So much so that he actually got lost in his thoughts and completely missed Arthur trying to usher their group forward.

Noticing that Tom was not reacting and he had that thoughtful look, Natasha smiled and spoke to Arthur, "Take Hermione and go first. We will catch up with you in a bit. Our camping spot should be next to you anyways."

The man was a bit hesitant, looking between Tom and the rest of the group but in the end, he nodded in dismay. Tom and Natasha were adults and as such, responsible for themselves. If they wanted to stay behind for a bit, there was nothing Arthur could do.

After Arthur led the group of kids away, Natasha approached Tom who was staring into nowhere, his mind no doubt going a mile a minute. The last time she saw him with this kind of look, he came up with the magic-stealing scheme.

Natasha didn't really know if she really wanted him to finish his thoughts or if she should interrupt him. Who knew what kind of bizarre thing he would come up with next?

Sighing in fondness, Natasha came closer to Tom and put her hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him while asking, "What's up?"

Tom blinked a few times, refocusing on the real world with a frown on his lips. "I was just trying to remember the sensation and magic flow of traveling through the portkey."

The irritation at being woken up from his thinking state was clear in his tone but there was no accusation. Tom was clearly aware this was not the place or time for deep thoughts and felt a bit embarrassed that he zoned out here.

"Think you can recreate it?" Natasha idly asked, inwardly not liking the idea at all.

"Probably not but I can always try." Tom admitted, shrugging, "At the very least, I will learn something new. This wizarding society has surprisingly much more to offer than I initially thought."

And that excited Tom more than anything else. He first thought this trip to the Wizarding World would be useless but then he found the tent, and now the portkey...

It was all in a very merry atmosphere and Tom was utterly flabbergasted that the notorious Wizarding Britain's disdain for foreigners was nowhere to be seen. At least, not for today.

Tom had even bought a nice magical comb for Natasha from an Asian-looking old man. The comb was fully capable of doing various hairstyles for her by itself. Since she grew her hair for him, the least he could do was to try making her life a bit easier since he had the option.

Normally, anyone with half a brain, which apparently translated to not even a ten percent of the wizarding community, would never buy a magical enchanted item from an unknown peddler. Without a proper appraisal, there was no guarantee that the item would not carry some kind of curse or some other detrimental magical effect, but Natasha's situation was a tad bit different.

A lesser-known fact about the Power of Destruction was that her magic always held a minuscule trace of the Concept of Destruction even when she was not channeling it. And that meant the users of the Power of Destruction were rather resistant to curses and debuffs because those usually worked by latching on to the victim's magical energy.

And that was exactly what would not work on someone with the Power of Destruction.

On top of that, Natasha was a high-rank being energy-wise so any wizarding spell that tried to latch onto her energy for its continued existence would be snuffed out very quickly simply because Natasha's mana was more powerful.

That's why Tom wasn't worried about buying a cursed object. It wouldn't really matter anyway. Even if by some unreal coincidence there was a strong enough curse that it could affect Natasha, Sirzechs memories made it clear that while curses could affect someone with the Power of Destruction, they didn't stick on such a person for long anyway.

The Concept of Destruction was a very... 'jealous' thing and didn't like sharing.

Eventually, after trying various food stalls, buying more useless items that would inevitably end up shelved and forgotten, and participating in various activities resembling what one could see at a mundane fair, Tom and Natasha stopped to watch a wizarding acrobatic performance with brooms.

It was a fitting thing for an event like this and the performer did everything a motorbike stunt rider would and then some, in the air and on the broom. Tom shuddered as he watched the madman but Natasha liked it so he squeezed her hand tighter and bore with the suicidal show.

His slight fear of heights was making it an almost painful experience for him.

Unknown to Tom, Natasha was not really interested in the performance. She did more dangerous stuff in her past and had her fair share of adrenaline. She no longer felt thrilled when watching someone do dangerous stuff. For her, it was her everyday reality once upon a time and that kind of mindset doesn't disappear.

The only reason why she wanted to stay and watch the performance was exactly because of how Tom subconsciously clung closer to her because of his irrational fear of heights acting up as he watched the wizard jump, stand, or even do a handstand on the broom high in the air.

It was nice for her to feel needed. Even if it was only because of something so trivial.

Natasha's lips spread into a happy smile. This almost felt like a date.