February 10, 1977
8:15 am
Hogwarts

James, Remus, Lily, and Peter waited for Anneliese and Sirius to come back, sitting on a bench a few corridors away from the entrance to the hospital wing as they watched students pass by.

The come and go of the hallways from all of the houses as they traveled from breakfast to classes to dormitories was comforting to them, soothing from the anxiety of the first fight between their friends in over a month.

"Should we have left them?" James asked hesitantly. "Things wouldn't get.. violent, would they?"

"No, they wouldn't any more than a slap," Remus reassured them with confidence. "I've seen firsthand how horrible Sirius felt after hexing her, and there's no way he would do that again. If not for Anneliese's sake, then for his own conscience."

"I don't think that she would actually leave, would she?" questioned Peter nervously. "Is that even allowed?"

"Technically, yes," Lily said factually. "As long as a student can find a school within the next two weeks of departure, they are hypothetically allowed to leave a wizarding school anytime they want. But if they can't find a school, they have to return to their old one."

"But not technically, we can't really say," Remus added on. "We have no idea what Sirius did or what she heard, so whatever extremity it was will probably tell us when we figure out."

"B-but quidditch," James stuttered. "We have a match against Hufflepuff tomorrow and it's going to be the hardest one yet, if she left then-"

"I think we have bigger issues than quidditch right now," Lily interrupted as her eyes landed on Sirius. "Come on, we should probably get some privacy."

The three boys looked up to see that the redhead was right.

With swift movements, they all stood up from the bench and hurried over to Sirius, briskly herding the group into a spare room the size of one of their dormitories. Peter glanced outside in the crowded hallways before shutting the heavy wooden door to make sure they had as much privacy as possible.

"Sirius, why are you alone?" Lily asked with slight panic. "Where did Anneliese go? Just back to the dorms of something, or-"

"She left," Black cut her off in a choked voice. "I don't understand what I even did, I don't understand why she won't just let me love her-"

Sirius froze at his own words, nothing understanding what had just slipped out of his mouth.

There was nothing James could say, he was too busy being a mixture of confused and ecstatic that Black had finally said it. Next to him, Lily, Remus, and Peter were also in their own state of shocked relief.

"I-I need to go talk to Minnie," Sirius muttered, his legs taking him to the Transfiguration professor's office before he could even think about the action.

Much to his relief, McGonagall was already in her office sitting at her desk.

"Minnie, I have a serious problem," Black said breathlessly from climbing the stairs. "It's about-"

"Miss Callaway," the professor completed, standing up from her chair as she turned towards her student. "Yes, I am aware."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked with hopeful, wide grey eyes. "What happened? Did she talk to you?"

"Yes, you just missed her," McGonagall said, voice full of remorse for the teenager. "I'm afraid that she has every right to leave, as long as she is able to find a new school in two weeks. I'm sorry, Mr. Black."

"But where is she going to stay?" Sirius questioned. "How can you be sure that she's going to be safe, professor? What if-"

"We have already secured her a place with someone," McGonagall told him. "Professor Dumbledore is going there as well to.. talk to her."

"Does this have something to do with her being similar to that other orphan?" Sirius asked, still not slowing down on the questions. "What does Dumbledore think is wrong with her?"

"I'm afraid I cannot answer all of your questions," she replied, looking genuinely sorry that she couldn't. "Some things are meant to be private. She will tell you on her own, I'm sure-"

"Not if I never see her again!" Sirius exclaimed, voice cracking with tears. "I'm never going to see her again, Minnie! I can write her letters, but she won't reply knowing her stubbornness. And I don't even know what I did, and.."

McGonagall watched as her student was unable to speak anymore. Ever since Sirius was just eleven years old when she began to teach him, he had never shown emotion like this before. Black had always been confident, devil may care sort of boy.

For someone to waver him like this was alarming.

McGonagall struggled to walk the line between being his professor, head of house, and the motherly figure that she played for many of the students of Hogwarts, Gryffindor or not.

But Sirius needed someone right now, and she recognized that over her professionalism.

"Come here, my dear," she said, soothingly wrapped her arms around Black. "It's hard, I know."

"I just don't understand," he sobbed into her shoulder. "I don't understand what I did wrong to make her so angry at me, I don't understand why she hates this place so much that she had to leave."

McGonagall pulled away from Sirius, holding him by the shoulders and looking directly at his face with a stern expression.

"Do you love Miss Callaway?"

The question left no room for fumbling around with an answer, but Sirius somehow still found a way to do just that.

"I-I think so," he stumbled. "I've never been with someone who makes me feel so vulnerable and like they can read my mind, and it terrifies me. Is that how love is supposed to feel?"

McGonagall smiled softly at the boy in front of her.

"I think, Mr. Black, that what you just so simply and accurately described is the exact way love is supposed to feel."

"Well then what am I supposed to do about it?" Sirius asked, pleading for answers. "What do I do, Minnie? She'll be long gone by this point, and Mia would kill me if I just did the same as her and left."

McGonagall hesitated for a moment. She knew what she could try and do to make Sirius finally be happy after weeks of apparent misery, but she also knew that she couldn't get his hopes up too high.

"I can see if professor Dumbledore will allow you to travel with him when he goes to America," McGonagall sighed. "There is a large chance that you will not be able to, so I'm not promising anything. Do you understand?"

"Yes, professor," Sirius replied quickly. "When will he be leaving, if I can go?"

"In a few days or so, maybe a little more," she told him. "There is-"

"A few days?!" cried Black, pacing furiously. "I have to wait days? But-"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very busy man, Mr. Black," McGonagall told her student, her fully strict voice returning after the bit of emotion she had let show earlier. "You're lucky that it's not over a week."

Sirius was looking at her with an expression like a lost puppy. The boy knew exactly what he was doing by playing the guilt card, but he honestly didn't care.

The professor looked at Black for a few moments before sighing and shaking her head.

"In the meantime, I would suggest that you write a letter, Mr. Black."

February 10, 1977
3:31 am
New York City

It was incredibly disortiening for Anneliese to take a portkey away from a place where the bright, buttery sunlight was shining down from a blue sky in the middle of the mountains to one where it was the middle of the night in a very busy city.

Even though it was three in the morning, the streets outside of Queenie's apartment were crowded with swarms flowing in and out of clubs, or groups of people smoking and having a good time on the Friday night.

Anneliese's vision took a few moments to adjust to the glowing, golden lamplight from the lampposts illuminating the streets and bright, flashing bulbs around signs announcing an advertisement or new TV show.

She quickly moved between crowds of people, receiving quite a few odd looks for the hefty trunk in her hand that appeared very out of place in No-Maj America.

Luckily, Anneliese didn't plan on staying long.

There was simply no way that Queenie would be just sleeping in her apartment on a Friday night, or technically a Saturday morning. Even though she was now much later into her life than she used to be, Goldtsein still lived every second to its fullest.

"Alohomora," Anneliese muttered, pushing open the apartment door only wide enough to set her trunk down inside before running down the stairs to find Queenie.

Walking down the streets in her uniform skirt, unbuttoned white shirt so that it became low cut, and loose Gryffindor tie around her neck, Anneliese felt at home for the first time in a long time.

Not that adrenaline and pounding rush she had gotten when she was running down the corridors with Sirius, but a steady heartbeat of home that she had been severely lacking.

Anneliese passed a group of boys smoking while she moved through the space between two brick buildings, who nodded at her in respectful acknowledgment as she hurried down a concealed staircase in the dingy alley.

The bricks on either side of her were slimy from the rain earlier that night, reflecting the warm lights of the alley. A completely blank yet very dirty, unassuming wall was in front of her, something any No-Maj would disregard entirely.

But among the dirt, there was one poster that hadn't faded like the rest of the place.

It showed a woman with brilliant orange hair applying lipstick in a gilded mirror, along with the bright red letters reading The Blind Pig.

"Excuse me, I need to see Queenie Goldstein," Anneliese whispered to the frozen woman on the paper. "Is she inside?"

A few moments passed when the illustration remained completely frozen, and Callaway briefly wondered if the location of the club had been changed.

Then, much to her relief, the woman turned around with a beautiful smile and gave her a nod. She gestured her pale, painted arm to the bricks, and Anneliese turned that way as well.

The rust colored, damp rectangles began to slowly turn of their own accord with a loud grinding sound in the frigid night air, revealing a place that could not be more opposite to the dank alley outside.

Inside of the Blind Pig was like a time capsule from the Roaring Twenties, not having changed a bit since decades ago.

The second that Anneliese stepped inside, the jazz music hit her ears as it echoed across the low ceilings, creating a slightly haunting yet elegant atmosphere. The sounds of aggressive card games and less favorable deals being made joined the music, clinking coins against wood and shouts of protest in being tricked.

Despite its age, the club was busier than ever, maximum occupancy reached fifty people ago.

It only took Callaway a few moments to spot Queenie.

Sitting in the very middle of the room near the band, the blonde was in the middle of a very intense game of Exploding Snap with a group of warlocks and goblins that appeared to have a dozen shots of gigglewater involved.

It was very obvious that everyone knew who Queenie was from the smiles even the goblins gave her infectious laugh, as well as the greetings she received from old friends every time one of them passed by her crowded table.

Anneliese couldn't help but smile at the way the woman in her seventies could fool anyone into thinking she was twenty years younger than that with her appearance.

She was wearing a furry, dark pink coat that would have looked gaudy on anyone else, but instead looked graceful and elegant on her. Golden jewelry adorned her fingers, no doubt from many successful nights at the Blind Pig.

Some people would call it immoral that the legilimens used her skills to figure out next people's moves in the card game, but she just called it strategy.

There was simply no one who did it like Queenie Goldstein.

"May I join?" Anneliese asked in a low tone, blending in with the crowd as she sat down at the table next to Queenie. "Looks like a good table."

Not paying any attention to her, Goldstein handed Anneliese a few cards from the center deck, her green eyes still focused on the goblin across from her.

Callaway grinned at how Queenie didn't look at her immediately, finding it highly amusing.

Queenie, it's me, Anneliese, she thought with a smile. Right next to you.

Goldstein was literally so shocked that she dropped the cards in her hand, squealed like a teenager, and made an enormous smile form on her dark pink painted lips.

"A!"

im so proud of the queenie and minnie parallel

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