Chapter 273: Queenie & Jacob
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"Grandma Tina," Tom greeted cheerfully, grinning as he waved. Fleur followed his lead, offering a polite, "Hello, Grandma Tina."
Tina smiled warmly. "Nice to et you, Fleur. Tom talks about you all the ti. Welco to our ho."
Then she turned to glare at Tom. "Actually, scratch that. You’re with this brat, so just think of this place as your own. No need to be polite."
Tina let out a snort, unable to stop herself from rembering just how complicated Tom’s love life was.
They really didn’t make n like Newt anymore.
Tom blinked, not entirely sure what he’d done wrong, but the safest response was always to play dumb. He obediently followed Tina as she led them inside.
After chatting for a bit, Tina nodded to herself, quietly pleased with what she saw.
Sure, Fleur’s bloodline wasn’t ideal in pureblood circles—but her family wasn’t insignificant either. The Delacours were an old French house with three centuries of history and no sign of decline. More importantly, the girl was polite and composed, far more mature than most her age.
Truth be told, Tina’s views reflected the mainstream of the wizarding world. Most witches and wizards still harbored prejudice toward any kind of mixed blood—even Veela. No matter how beautiful they were, they were still seen as a "taint" on wizarding purity.
Tina didn’t object to Fleur dating Tom, but if she had to rank the girls in his life, Fleur definitely wouldn’t be first. Oddly enough, she had a good feeling about the Greengrass girl she’d never even t.
Tom, of course, had no idea Tina was ntally arranging his "seating chart." If he did, he’d probably laugh and cry at the sa ti.
Daphne Greengrass was already turning lazy under his care—always clinging, pouting, acting nothing like the dignified "eldest lady" Tina imagined.
The conversation soon found a natural rhythm.
Because no matter the age, when won got together, gossip was always the universal language. And the juiciest story in the wizarding world right now?
Laos Wilkinson running off with Solen Caruso.
Tom had already given Fleur the rough outline—both Laos and Solen were North Arican wizards from powerful families. Tina had heard their nas before, and once the topic started, the two won hit it off imdiately.
Even Tom couldn’t resist joining in.
"Didn’t the Graves family have a feud with the Carusos before this? This ti they didn’t just slap each other—they went straight for the throat."
When Tom first heard about it, he thought it was insane. Not liking Frank was one thing; cheating before marriage was cliché but understandable. But eloping with Laos? That was just absurd.
Laos had wanted to stay in Britain, thinking he’d be safe here—that the North Arican families couldn’t reach across the ocean. But Tom had still advised him to get as far away as possible. The guy was a magnet for trouble, and Tom didn’t want to deal with the fallout.
Maybe next term he’d ask Lupin to take over teaching duties. At least Lupin was the quiet, dependable type.
"How could they not fight?" Tina gave Tom a knowing look, then leaned forward, clearly enjoying herself. "It almost turned into a duel. They say thirty or forty wizards had their wands drawn before the Magical Congress sent in diators. Otherwise, we’d have had bodies lying in the street and a few more buried underground."
"But after the heads of both families handed over their wands, they went into a bedroom, talked for half an hour, and ca out like best friends."
"They made up?" Fleur’s voice shot up in disbelief. "How? Did soone use the Imperius Curse?"
"Silly girl," Tina laughed, patting her hand. "The Aurors from the Congress checked. No signs of mind control or potion use. They really did just... settle things."
"How?" Tom asked, raising a brow.
"Simple," Tina said. "Solen Caruso’s cousin got engaged—no, actually married—to Frank Graves. There were a few financial settlents too, but the key thing was that they kicked Solen out of the Caruso family."
Tom nodded. "That explains it."
In wizarding society, expulsion from the family was serious business—an unmistakable punishnt. Even Voldemort had respected that boundary.
Sirius Black had openly defied him, yet because the Black family had officially disowned him, Voldemort hadn’t retaliated against them. He’d even treated Sirius’s brother as a trusted follower.
So even if the Graves were furious, they’d only target Solen now—not the entire Caruso clan.
"What about the Wilkinsons?" Tom asked, thinking of Laos’s family. "They just stood by and watched?"
Tina shook her head. "Aside from the two Aurors working at the Ministry, the rest ran off to the west coast. The Graves won’t touch Ministry employees, and they can’t find the others. So for now, they’re just stewing."
Tom clicked his tongue. "Figures. The whole family’s got that sa chaotic energy as Laos."
By the ti the gossip died down, everyone was smiling. Tina took Fleur upstairs to prepare the guest room while Tom headed to his own to take a much-needed nap.
He didn’t co back down until dinner.
Rolf was still in Britain with his parents, and Newt was traveling back with his Panda, so only Tina was ho. But she’d invited her sister’s family over for the evening al.
And this was Tom’s first ti eting Queenie Goldstein—the natural-born Legilins.
Like Tina, age hadn’t dimd her beauty. If anything, the years had only added grace and a soft, wistful charm. Compared to Tina’s fiery temper, Queenie seed gentler, almost fragile.
"Hello, Grandma Queenie. Grandpa Jacob." Tom greeted them respectfully, with Fleur by his side.
He even let Grindelwald out to say hello to so old acquaintances.
For once, the old dark wizard didn’t start spewing insults the way he did with Newt. He just looked complicated, nostalgic even.
He had admired Queenie’s gift back in the day. Her ability to read minds was terrifyingly precise—a perfect tool for rooting out spies and gauging loyalty.
And yet... a Muggle had stolen her away.
Grindelwald’s jaw tightened as he glanced at the portly old man sitting beside her.
Jacob Kowalski was over a hundred now. For an ordinary Muggle, that would’ve ant death long ago. But years of magical tonics had kept him spry—his body like that of a man in his seventies.
Both elders smiled kindly at Tom. Jacob even winked. "Handso kid. You’re almost as good-looking as I was back in my day."
Queenie snorted. "Darling, you already had high blood pressure, high sugar, and high cholesterol when you were young. When I t you, you were a walking butterball."
"Sweetheart, could you not say that in front of the kids?" Jacob’s face crumpled into wrinkles of despair.
"I’m only telling the truth. That’s exactly why I loved you—you were adorable."
"And I still am."
Tom and Fleur exchanged glances. Both looked equally helpless.
Getting force-fed a serving of affection from two centenarian lovebirds was not how they’d expected the night to go.
Thankfully, Queenie and Jacob’s little display of lovey-dovey affection didn’t last long. It was clearly just habit at this point, and they soon composed themselves again. Queenie, though, couldn’t help giving Fleur an approving once-over. The girl’s slim figure, poise, and natural beauty reminded her of her own younger self. Her expression softened, and she nodded repeatedly.
"What a lovely girl," she murmured. "Such a lovely girl."
Then her gaze t Tom’s—and she froze for a mont. Her Legilincy, that instinctive mind-reading gift she couldn’t switch off even if she tried, ca up blank. No surface thoughts. No flickers of emotion. Nothing. It was like her ability had hit a wall.
Tom blinked innocently. "If I told you I was born with Occluncy, would you believe ?"
Queenie couldn’t help laughing.
It amazed her that Newt, of all people, had gotten so close with soone so different in temperant. But she had to admit, the boy was interesting.
In truth, Tom had always been weak in the field of ntal magic. His strength ca from the sheer density of his soul, not from study or technique. But ever since he’d gotten that notebook from the mysterious "Mr. K," things had changed. ntal disciplines—defense, intrusion, manipulation—were universal across worlds. With even a little study, he’d made huge progress. Now, he no longer flinched before a natural-born Legilins like Queenie.
...
Dinner itself was ordinary—a warm, unpretentious family al. No talk of the wizarding world’s politics or dark rumors. Mostly it was Queenie complaining about her disappointing grandchildren. Not one had inherited her mind-reading gift, and even their basic magical talent was, in her words, "a tragic downgrade."
Tina didn’t say much. She knew that wasn’t unusual. Magical ability wasn’t always inherited evenly—if it were, purebloods wouldn’t be fading out. Even her own kids... well, they’d inherited Newt’s gift for magical creatures, but in combat magic? Absolutely hopeless.
Tom and Fleur just listened quietly, chiming in now and then when they were ntioned. Eventually, they walked Queenie and Jacob to the door, said their goodbyes, and the gathering ca to a close.
That night, long after everyone had gone to bed, Fleur tiptoed into Tom’s room. She wore a silver silk nightdress that shimred softly in the dim light, smooth and sleek as her own skin.
Tom’s grip on the blanket tightened in alarm. "Fleur, don’t do this. I’m still a kid... wait, no, you’re still a kid too! Let’s... maybe wait a few years?"
Fleur’s cheeks flushed pink. "What are you thinking, you pervert!" she hissed, half scolding, half flustered. She climbed into bed anyway, snatching half the blanket from him. "I can’t sleep in that room—it’s not comfortable. I just ca to talk."
Tom blinked. ’You can’t sleep in that bed, but you can in mine? It’s new too, you know.’
No, this wasn’t "recognizing the bed." This was recognizing the person.
He wanted to say it, but wisely kept his mouth shut and shifted over to make space. Fleur nestled in beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed.
"Queenie and Jacob are amazing," she said softly, a note of admiration in her voice. "Seventy years together, and they still look at each other like that. It’s so rare."
"Yeah," Tom said seriously. "Queenie even kept putting food on Jacob’s plate. You didn’t give
a single bite."
She rolled her eyes. "That’s what you noticed? And whose fork was stealing food off my plate the whole ti?"
He gave a sheepish grin. Fleur’s mock glare softened, and after a quiet pause she lifted her gaze to his face. Her long lashes fluttered slightly.
"Do you think... we’ll be like them one day?" she whispered.
"Of course," Tom said without hesitation. "We’ll be even happier than they are."
Her lips curved faintly. "Just us?"
Tom froze for a beat. "...Well, you know what they say—strength in numbers."
"You—!" Fleur’s face flared red. She pinched his arm hard. "It’s just us right now, can’t you say sothing nice for once?"
Tom shook his head firmly. "Nope. I might be a Slytherin, but when it cos to feelings, I’m an honest Hufflepuff. Lying to you would be pointless. If I start lying now, it’ll just make it easier to lie again later."
Fleur fell silent.
He wasn’t wrong. He’d always been upfront—about everything. About Daphne, about Hermione. He’d never hidden anything from her.
But would it really make her happier if he lied, just to soothe her?
The thought left her tangled up and frustrated. No matter what answer she got, she’d still end up unhappy.
So, in classic Fleur fashion, she chose violence. She straddled him and started pounding on his chest with her small fists. "You’re the worst!"
It didn’t take long for her frustration to lt into laughter.
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