Hegemoneapple

[hegemoneapple]

I just started podficing my 157 chapter Harry Potter Fanfiction. Let me know what you think.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 50: A little hike

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 50 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | 

When Harry awoke the next morning, he couldn’t believe that he’d slept through the entire night. His protesting stomach woke him up. He’d missed dinner and now felt a bit trembly as he dressed for the day. He pulled on his trainers, grimacing as their clammy dampness encased his feet. He left the toilet quietly as he was up way before his roommates… it would be at least an hour before breakfast was ready. He made his way down the corridor wondering if the sandwiches in his staff were safe to eat. 

Harry used his staff to locate a bench outside of the library and summoned the sandwiches and his water out of his staff. He sniffed at the sandwiches and decided that they’d be okay and woofed one of them down followed by some gulps of water. 

He decided to write notes about the letters that were lost at sea. Harry summoned his writing materials from his staff along with his anagnóstis. He wrote out three versions of the same message, “You sent a note to me, Harry Potter, that arrived on Monday, June 28th that was accidentally destroyed. Could you please resend it? Thanks. HP.” 

He used the anagnóstis to make sure the notes were legible—it was weird to hear his own voice through the aftí—then rolled them up. He’d ask Hedwig to take them to the people who’d sent the messages. He knew she’d understand what to do. 

She’s a brilliant bird. 

He cast the Navigation charm and headed to the owlery looking forward to spending some time with Hedwig.

He walked through the threshold and felt the very slight tug on his navel. The sounds of Charing Cross Road drifted in through the open windows along with the morning air, which seemed a bit warm for the time of day. He guessed it was going to be a hot one and was thankful that he wasn't stuck at the Dursley's tarring the driveway or some other heinous task that they were likely to invent for him to do on an outrageously hot day. Remembering the garden, though, reminded him of Nio hus cherio kisa and he thought of his cool scales against his neck. 

Little Friend.

Hedwig hooted from her perch high in the rafters and Harry lifted his face to her and smiled, "Hiya, Hedwig. It's good to see you, too." 

She flew down to him in an explosion of feathers against his face as she dug her talons into his shoulder. He had time to brace himself, his staff had warned him she was coming right at him, so he adjusted his stance as her weight settled on his shoulder. He reached for her and pressed his face into her feathery belly, breathing in her pine-musty scent, which was a bit of a relief from the stench of the owlery.

"It's no wonder you sit high up in the rafters, Hedwig. It stinks down here," Harry whispered into her feathers.

"You could take her out to the courtyard, if you want to escape the fetor of the owlery," an ancient voice spoke from the wall near the door.

Harry started, "Oh, I didn't know anyone else was in here!" He turned toward the voice, balancing Hedwig on his shoulder.

"Well, I'm always here, aren't I," said the voice.

"Oh?" Harry questioned. Then he remembered his staff and held it off the floor and squeezed it to get a description of the room and, he hoped, of the person standing by the door.

But there was no person.

"Are you a portrait?" Harry asked slowly.

"Yes, what are you? Blind?"

"Er, yes." 

"Oh, right, then," the portrait had the good sense to sound embarrassed.

"You said there is a courtyard?" 

"Yes, just over there." 

Harry shook his head a bit in disbelief. 

"Navigant courtyard," Harry said to his staff and it led him to a narrow doorway, down a few stairs (not nearly enough to reach the ground below the tower), and then out onto a cobbled pathway. The morning air was heavy with moisture and warmth, but also fragrant with the aroma of lavender. He could hear the breeze rustling leaves on a nearby tree. He squeezed his staff in the air to get a description of the courtyard and then navigated to the bench that it described under the tree. 

Hedwig's talons on his shoulder were painful, so he encouraged her to hop down onto the bench and he fed her some of the biscuits he’d saved from tea. She growled contentedly while Harry took deep breaths—the garden in the courtyard was full of fragrant plants; herbs, Harry discovered as he ran his hands over some of the spiky plants that bordered the bench. He liked the coolness of the stone bench beneath his legs.

Finally, after a long while of just enjoying the quiet morning in the courtyard, Harry attached the notes to Hedwig's leg and asked her to return to the people who'd sent them. He knew one was headed to Hermione, but he wasn't sure who'd sent the other ones. I should have looked at them right when I got them, he admonished himself.

He took her back up to the owlery figuring it would be easier for her to leave from the tower than down in the courtyard and said goodbye to her before she hooted and took off.

"Did you enjoy the courtyard?" the portrait asked him as he was leaving.

"Yes, very much. Thank you for suggesting it." 

oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo

Harry met up with Gemma and Tony at breakfast and then they headed to the Mont Blanc room for the hike.  

Gemma paused at the threshold of Mont Blanc and Harry wondered if there was something about it that looked different. It smelled the same. He could smell and feel the cool mountain air wafting into the corridor from the room as they approached and even hear some birds trilling in the distance. At first, he mistook the sound for someone whistling and then he realized it must be birds. It sounded like they were talking to each other almost—calling and answering over a distance. He was a bit entranced as he realized it helped give dimension to the space inside the room. He could tell from the bird songs that the landscape sloped down in front of them and rose up behind them.

He realized that they had been standing there for a while, Gemma couldn’t be listening to the birds. 

Maybe she’s watching them?

He squeezed her arm so that she’d know that he wanted to say something and asked, “What is it?” 

Tony answered: “The benches are gone and there’s just a path leading down to the lake.”

“Do you think Mei will be okay on the path?” Harry wondered, conceding that he was thinking about himself as much as her. 

“I dunno. She’ll probably pitch a fit,” Tony deadpanned.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed silently. “Where do we go?” 

Gemma was moving her arms, likely signing to Tony. Harry dropped her arm so that she could sign more freely.

“What’s she saying?” Harry asked Tony. 

He heard Gemma moving away from him, through the door, and onto the crunching pathway. The birds got quieter with her noises.

“I don’t know—I think she’s asking Healer Jordan something,” Tony said.

“Is Healer Jordan nearby?” 

“She’s way down the path, but I guess they can understand each other,” Tony said, “Hey, let’s get out of the door. There are more people coming.”

Harry could hear the man he had noticed the day before, the one who had sat behind him when the bench fell over and tried to help Harry up, his tenor animated as he was recounting traveling on the underground to someone. It sounded like it was the first time he’d traveled on it.

He was talking to someone Harry hadn’t noticed before, or at least he didn’t recognize anything about the person.

Then Healer Jordan’s voice surprised him as it came from a space just to the right in front of him, “Please make your way down to the lake by following one of the paths. We will meet on board the deck of the HMS Eden.”

“Oh, hi, Healer Jordan,” Harry said. 

She didn’t answer. 

He waited a bit more, rocking back and forth, listening to the water squishing in his shoes; he could hear the bells of the ship clanging in the distance. He then registered that Tony was walking ahead and leaving Harry standing in the doorway by himself. He quickly pulled out his staff, extended it and swung it back and forth, listening for the voice. He remembered to hold it with his index finger pointing down the length, and the aftí started telling him about the doorway and the path in front of him. He heard footsteps crunching on the gravel behind him and moved to the side of the path.  

“Pardon us,” one of the men said as they passed and Harry nodded and waited until their footsteps receded down the hill. 

“Healer Jordan, am I on the right path?” he asked, turning back to the doorway and taking a step closer, but she didn’t answer, but instead repeated the same message. 

“Please make your way down to the lake by following one of the paths. We will meet on board the deck of the HMS Eden.”

It must be a recorded message, Harry thought, flushing with the awareness that he’d been speaking to air again. He could hear someone walking down the path slowly and guessed it was Tony and he started down the path. 

“Navigant HMS Eden.” 

The birds had quieted down since more people entered the space, but he could still hear the more distant trills. There was also the scent of wood burning, but light as though it were distant—a campfire.

Harry could hear other people walking on the path behind him, but they were quiet except for their feet crunching over the sandy surface of the walkway. Harry was pretty sure he was still on a path—he was following the sounds of Tony’s steps ahead of him and listening to the directions from his Navigant spell. He could hear the conversations of others drifting up the hill (or down the hill) occasionally, but he couldn’t always tell how far away they were. 

He thought about calling Tony to wait for him, to help guide him, but then he remembered that Tony really couldn’t guide him easily. His memory brushed over the feeling of Tony’s remaining arms in his hands when Harry had been trying to help him right himself during council. 

That would be awkward.

He stumbled a few times as he tread on larger rocks and he brushed against bushes and other plants that grabbed at his trousers.

His staff warned him of a tree branch that almost hit him in his face—and he reached out his hand in front until he found it and held it away as he moved around it. It was laden with small leaves that whispered through his fingers.  

He felt as though his progress was slow going and that Tony was getting farther and farther away from him. It was harder to tell if he was still on the path. The people behind him seemed to be moving even slower than he was and he was becoming conscious of an apprehension in his gut as he felt the gulf of distance between him and the other people grow. His breath quickened.

And then he heard footsteps crunching on the path, coming up it, toward him, running, and getting louder as they approached. He stopped afraid they’d run into him. And then they stopped, not far in front of him. Their breathing was heavy from running up the mountain path.

“Hello?” Harry asked; the Scribunt loqui flapped noticeably in the breeze.

A few light footsteps, and then Gemma’s hand was on his arm.

“Oh, hi, Gemma. Where’d you go?” Harry was relieved she was back.

She moved to his left side and lifted his palm to write in his hand, “S-O-R-R-Y” space “I” “L-E-F-T-.” space “H-.-J-.”… Harry interrupted her work, “H?J? Is that Healer Jordan?” She tapped his hand twice, “yes.” 

She continued, “W-A-S-LA-T-E-N-E-E-D-E-D-H-E-L-P-F-O-R-M-E-I”. Harry furrowed his brow at this, Gemma had run it all together in her hurry and it took him a bit to figure out what she was saying. He repeated what he understood, “Healer Jordan was late and needed your help so that she could help Mei?”  

Behind them, Harry could hear distantly the repeated message from Healer Jordan, “Please make your way down to the lake by following the path. We will meet on board the deck of the HMS Eden” as Gemma wrote in his hand.

She tapped “yes,” impatiently on his hand, and then wrote “IGOHELPMEINOWYOUGOTOSHIP” Harry said the letters as she wrote them and pieced them together until he understood them. 

Before he could answer, she was off. He imagined that she could see Mei at the doorway. He felt a bit useless, standing there in the pathway as Gemma ran up the mountain path to help Mei and Aminah. 

The people who had been following him had passed them by while they were talking and he felt alone again. He pointed his staff down the mountain path and continued on, stumbling over stones occasionally and straining for cues that he was staying on the path and nearing the ship. The path got steeper and started zig-zagging across the side of the mountain. Dust from the path seemed thicker on this part of the trail—he could feel it coating his lungs and depositing a layer on his sweating skin and caking his damp trainers.

He slipped on some loose gravel at the bend of one zig-zags and sat down rather suddenly on the hillside, sliding down on his feet awkwardly as he tried to regain his balance. A rock had jabbed uncomfortably into his backside, and his wrist felt a bit tweaked from the sudden jolt as he landed. He managed to stand up again and brush off the dirt. Though he was a little shaky, he kept going.

He could hear the bells on the ship more easily now; he knew he was getting closer.

He wished he hadn’t been squeamish about asking Tony to lead him. Better than tumbling down a mountainside. He thought about Nio hus cherio kisa and wished he’d been able to bring the little snake with him.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 49: Tea

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 49 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Harry stood by the tank he’d just stepped out of, a little less dripping wet because of the towel that Gemma had grabbed for him. He tried to still his trembling legs, but they continued to knock together. He held his staff over the water, trying to summon his glasses from the depths of the tank—from the ocean floor. The South China Sea ocean floor. Maybe that was too great a distance for the summoning charm to work. It didn’t seem like his glasses were going to come racing toward him, though he held out his hand expectantly.

“Accio glasses,” he said again. His arm was shaking from the tremors that were racking his whole body. “I don’t think they are coming.” 

“Geez, what a pain,” Mei complained.

Anger flared up in Harry’s gut, “Hey, you didn’t have to haul me out into the middle of the ocean. I can’t even swim!” The fear he’d felt as he’d been dragged underwater hit him full in the chest—the complete disorientation, and then when he realized that he was in the middle of the ocean with nothing to hold on to and no idea if there was even a shore to swim toward, if he could manage to make his way through the water. His throat burned from the seawater and from trying hard not to cry.

“You didn’t have to stick your hand in my tank… ” she dug in.

“I thought something was wrong,” he yelled. “I thought you were drowning… ” 

She was quiet for a little bit, while his chest heaved and he tried to get his trembling under control. 

“Sorry,” Mei muttered, “I’ll go get your glasses.” 

He was deluged with a wave of water as she dove down into the tank.

Gemma’s hand on his arm was almost fluttering with concern.

“Sorry, Gemma,” he didn’t know why he was apologizing to her—maybe for scaring her.

He moved his staff to his dominant hand and swept it in front of him, trying to figure out where he was. He needed to get out of his wet clothes.

Gemma tugged at his arm as if she was saying “this way.”

He curled his fingers around her upper arm and let her guide him. She put his hand on the doorknob to the loo.

“Thanks, Gemma. I want to show you how we can talk more easily once I’m dry, okay?”

She tapped twice on his arm, “okay.”

Once in the toilet, he squeezed twice on the staff holding it off the floor to get a sense of the room. It was spacious, everything was at least three yards away from where he was. There was a toilet and a bidet (what’s that?) to his left, a sink adjacent to them. Just to his right there was a shower and next to it, a bathtub. He learned that there was a wooden bench outside of the shower that had a rack of clean towels hanging over it. Harry made his way to the bench and sat down. He’d had enough of bathtubs, but a shower would get the saltwater off of him and maybe he could warm up. He was still really shivering.

He summoned a change of clothes out of his staff, but he didn’t have another pair of shoes to wear. He wondered if a bidet would dry his shoes and went over to it to see if he could figure out what it was. The staff told him that he’d found the bidet—it sounded porcelain—like a toilet when his staff struck it. 

He leaned down to feel it. It was shaped similarly to a toilet, too, but instead of a bowl filled with water, there was a showerhead pointing straight up. When he ran his hand over it, water started spraying out of it, right into his face. He stood up quickly. It finally occurred to him what it was intended for and he was mortified. 

Why is this here? Then it occurred to him: Tony needs this.

Okay, that definitely won’t help me dry my shoes. 

He made his way back to the bench, found his pile of dry clothes, stripped out of his wet clothes and stepped into the shower. It took him a little bit to figure out the controls and at first, he was blasted with cold water until he was able to adjust it to a warmer stream. It felt good just to stand under the water and let it warm him. 

He finally stopped shivering. Feeling around the shower stall, he found smaller faucets that worked like the buffet and when he waved his hand near them, they told him which ones contained peppermint-, lavender-, or pine-scented soaps. Finally, he shut the water off, stepped out of the shower to dry off, and dressed. He decided to carry his soggy trainers rather than put them on. 

Maybe someone can help me figure out how to dry them, he thought. 

He asked his staff for the time and found out that it was after 3 pm. He was feeling a lot better when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Hey, Potter!” Mei called to him from her tank, he could hear the water sloshing around her.

“Yes?” he answered.

“I found your glasses.” 

“Oh, wow. How did you find them?” He had really thought they were gone forever.  

He walked nearer the tank, his staff struck the bottom. He was a bit nervous about getting too near Mei.

“I just swam along our path and looked for them until I found them. Here you go,” Mei said.  

He held out his hand, and she placed the glasses in it.

“Thank you,” he said as he put them on. She grabbed his forearm and he flinched. 

“Hey, settle down. I’m not going to pull you in again. I just wanted to tell you that… I’m really sorry. I get so angry and I don’t think. And I didn’t think how scary it would be for you to be pulled underwater like that. I’m sorry that I keep knocking you over. I really am.” The regret in her voice was unmistakable. 

“Thanks, Mei. I’m sorry that I invaded your space.”

 “Harry, I really will try to do better, okay?” Mei’s voice broke a bit.

“Okay. Me, too.” 

“Thanks for giving me another chance.” 

He wondered if there would be more pearls. “Are you going to go to tea?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m getting out of the tank now.”

He heard Gemma coming over.

“Hi, Gemma,” he turned toward her footsteps.

She grabbed his hand and turned over his palm so she could talk to him, “N-E-W” space “W-A-Y” space “T-O” space “T-A-L-K-?” 

“Oh, right! My anagnóstis!” He felt around his wet clothes until he found his trousers and the pocket of his trousers. He was relieved to find that it was still there. He pulled it out. He didn’t think it would be harmed by being in the ocean—it seemed as though it was solid metal.  

“Do you have paper you can write on?” he asked Gemma.

“Yes,” she tapped on his arm and left his side. 

He found hangers inside his wardrobe and hung up his wet clothes, hoping that they wouldn’t make too much of a puddle. He closed the wardrobe doors (he was tempted to leave them open to help the clothes dry faster, but then remembered what it felt like to run into an open door). 

He heard Mei getting out of her tank and a bit of water splashed on his stocking feet. 

I am going to really need to learn that drying spell, he thought.

Gemma came back quickly, he heard her put the paper and a pencil on the desk. He found the desk and pulled out the chair for her.

“Here, you write something quickly. We don’t have much time; tea already started,” he reminded her. 

She tapped his hand, “right.”

She pulled the chair closer to the desk and he heard the sound of the pencil scratching on the paper. He was glad she grabbed a pencil and not a quill—he didn’t want to have to wait for the ink to dry.

She tugged at his hand to let him know she was ready and stood up. He took her place at the desk and scooted his fingers forward until he found the paper. He lined up the anagnóstis with the top left-hand corner and started reading what she had written.

“Hi, Harry! I have so much that I want to talk with you about, but I know that we don’t have much time. I guess what’s most on my mind at this moment is knowing that you’re really okay after getting pulled into Mei’s tank.”

Her voice was just as he imagined it would be—lyrical and light, a bit bubbly, but not too much. He smiled softly and turned his head toward her, swallowing a bit of emotion that had risen in his throat. She squeezed his arm, it felt like a question. 

“I can hear your voice. You sound like I thought you’d sound,” he said, his voice cracking a little. 

She squeezed his arm a bit more firmly. 

Harry turned his ear toward Mei’s side of the room. He was pretty sure that she was busy getting dried off.

He said as quietly as he could manage, “It was scary, but I didn’t get hurt. I’m okay. She’s really sorry, for what that’s worth.”

She pulled the paper over to her side of the desk. He heard the bed creak as she sat on it while the pencil scratched over the paper. She pushed the paper under his fingertips. He ran the anagnóstis over the paper and found her new sentence.

“Does this ana-thingy speak out loud in the room?”

Harry turned his face to Gemma and said, “No, it talks to me quietly in my ear. I don’t think other people can hear it.” He touched the aftí in his ear.

He realized that she probably couldn’t see it from what Hermione had told him about it. So he pulled it off and held it out on his palm. She touched it lightly and after a bit, he put it back on. Gemma pulled the paper toward her again and wrote more.

“I think she’s trying. She really is having a hard time. It is too bad that she keeps hurting us. I hope she gets it under control. Soon.” 

He read her words with the anagnóstis and nodded in agreement.

Harry heard Tony’s footsteps and realized that Tony’s space was next to his. He had been pretty quiet this whole time—he wondered what he’d been doing and why he’d waited to go to tea. 

He heard Mei going across the room. “Aminah, if you push my chair, I’ll guide you to the dining hall for tea.”

“Tony, are you headed there? Want to walk with us? Gemma, Harry? Let’s go, okay?” There was a grit in Mei’s voice—like she was steeling herself to be kind and thoughtful. 

Gemma’s back was to the room, so Harry was pretty certain she didn’t know that they were mobilizing.

He called out to Mei, “We’re coming.” 

He leaned into Gemma and told her that the Montmorency group was headed down to tea now.

Gemma folded up the piece of paper and he heard her shove it into her pocket. Harry put the anagnóstis in his pocket. Maybe they’d be able to continue talking at tea. He found his staff, but collapsed it and put it in his pocket, too, and took Gemma’s offered arm to go to tea.

He ran his hand through his damp hair. 

The shower had been refreshing, but this first day had been exhausting.

oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo

The tea was set out at each individual table this time. Gemma poured out the tea for everyone. Harry was sitting next to Tony and he wondered how Tony was going to drink his tea and eat his biscuits without his dad here to help him. He leaned over and asked before he lost his nerve, “Um, Tony? Do you need any help with your tea or biscuits?”

There was a long silence. Harry wasn’t sure if Tony heard him, and then he heard Tony shift in his seat and he had a feeling that Tony was thinking about it, so he waited a bit longer.

“Um, yeah. There’s a straw on the table,” Harry started running his fingers lightly over the tablecloth, trying to locate it. “It’s in the center, about a foot straight ahead of you… that’s it.”

“Won’t the tea burn you if you drink it through a straw?” Harry asked. 

He held the metal tube out, but then remembered that Tony couldn’t just grab it. Or maybe he’d grab it with his mouth when he was ready. He waited.

“Yeah. Could you put milk in my tea to cool it down?” Tony asked.

“Sure, where’s the milk?” Harry reached slowly to the center of the table trying to locate the milk.

“To you right about 10 inches,” Tony directed.

Harry could hear Mei and Aminah talking about a Care of Magical Creatures class that had included unicorns on the other side of Tony.

Harry wrapped his hand around the milk pitcher. His other hand was still holding the straw.

“Here, I’ll hold the straw,” Tony said and Harry felt him take the straw in his mouth and then Tony tapped the teacup with the straw. Harry wasn’t sure if Tony did it on purpose, but it helped him locate Tony’s teacup and he moved the milk pitcher toward it. Tony tapped it again, and Harry clinked the pitcher against the teacup and then poured in some milk.

“How’s that?” Harry asked.

“A bit more, please,” Tony said through clenched teeth.

“That okay?” 

“Yeah. Tanks.” Harry heard the straw hitting the side of the cup and guessed that Tony was sipping it.

“Let me know when you want to put the straw down or want a biscuit, okay?” Harry offered.

“‘Kay,” Tony said.

Harry felt around for his own teacup and added a bit of milk.

“Did you want sugar, Tony?” Harry asked.

“No, tanks,” he said after an audible sip.

It sounded like Gemma had sat back in her chair after finishing serving and he reached for her arm to get her attention.

“What kind of biscuits are there?” 

She pulled out the paper from her pocket and he heard her writing. So he fished the anagnóstis so that he could read it. She guided it to the line on the paper.

“The plate is straight in front of you and to the left a bit. There is shortbread, chocolate digestives, ginger nuts, and fig rolls in that order from left to right on the plate. Do you want me to put some on your plate?” 

Harry salivated at the names of the biscuits.

“Sure, I’ll take a couple of chocolate digestives, a ginger nut, and a fig roll. Thanks!” 

He heard Gemma placing them on his plate.

“Tony, do you want biscuits,” Harry asked.

Harry heard the straw drop to the table and roll a bit.

“Sure,” Tony, “Gemma, could you please put a ginger nut on a plate for me, please?” he asked so politely that Harry almost forgot that he’d been snickering at their blood status earlier. Harry tried to push that out of his mind, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Gemma reached across Harry to set the plate in front of Tony, while Harry was trying to eat a shortbread. He bumped into Gemma’s arm as he leaned forward.

“Oh, sorry, Gemma!” Harry apologized. She squeezed his shoulder after she set down the plate.

“Tony, do you want me to hold the biscuit for you?” Harry asked, a bit nervously.

“Um, yeah, would you?” Tony seemed embarrassed.

Harry located the plate and the biscuit and held it in the air where he thought Tony would be able to get it. Tony grabbed it with his lips and Harry let go.

Harry found the straw again and held it up and after a bit, Tony mumbled, “Thanks,” as he grabbed it with his mouth and Harry heard it tapping against the teacup.  

Healer Jordan had entered the room and asked for their attention with her amplified voice. The noisy buzz of conversation settled down.

“I hope you’re enjoying your tea,” Healer Jordan began. “We’ve made arrangements with the instructors to continue introductions tomorrow morning. We’ll start the day with a short hike in the Mont Blanc room and a talk with a special visitor. You can use the rest of this afternoon to rest and explore the Center.”

Mei groaned loudly.

Harry shoved the shortbread in his mouth while he thought about his wet trainers and how Mei was going to handle the hike. He figured that Healer Jordan would figure out how to make it manageable for her—but he couldn’t help but speculate about how Mei would send him tumbling this time. 

There’s definitely a pattern.

Gemma pushed the paper under Harry’s arm and he held the anagnóstis over it waiting for her to guide his hand to the line she’d written.

“Who do you think the special guest will be?” Gemma asked.

“I have no idea,” Harry responded. He really didn’t have a clue, “Who do you think it will be?” he asked, pushing the paper back to her.

“Maybe Albus Dumbledore?” Gemma wondered.

Harry’s gut seized at that and he wondered why. He’d be surprised to see Professor Dumbledore here. The last time he’d been with Dumbledore was in his office after the Basilisk attack and he felt weird about that encounter… like it hadn’t gone the way Professor Dumbledore expected. 

“I don’t think it’ll be Professor Dumbledore. He seems busy with other things… ” 

“Who do you think will be our special guest, Tony?” Harry asked.

“I dunno,” Tony responded absentmindedly, “What’s that pen thing you’re using?” 

“Oh, it’s my anagnóstis,” Harry held it up for Tony to inspect. “It reads text aloud to me.”

“That’s handy,” Tony said, “I’m going to be getting some magical arms soon.”

“That’s good,” Harry said, though he immediately thought of how Mei’s Jiāorén magic had made his staff sting in his pocket and winced at the thought of that happening to Tony and his magical arms. 

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have them yet. That would be way worse than holding your staff and having it react—at least you could let go, he thought.

“What?” Tony asked, quizzically.

“What?” 

“Why’d you make that face?” 

“What face?” 

“You looked like you’d tasted something bad,” Tony said.

“Oh. I was thinking about… ” He wasn’t sure he should talk about it. He listened to see if Mei was paying attention. She seemed to be engrossed in a rather intense, emotional conversation with Aminah.

“About what?” 

“About how when Mei blasted us with her magic, it made my staff sting me,” Harry said quickly, “and I was thinking about how much that would hurt if it was through your… arms.”

“Oh. What do you mean it made your staff sting you. Where was your staff? You didn’t have it with you when we were sitting on the logs.” 

“I had collapsed it, it was in my pocket,” Harry explained and pulled the staff out of his pocket to show Tony. “And it stung like a hex.”

“That would be bad. Maybe I’ll ask Healer Jordan about it,” Tony said. “I don’t know if… ”

“What?” Harry pressed.

“Nothing,” there was a finality to Tony’s voice that felt like a brick wall.

Harry shifted his mushy trainers underneath him, his toes pruning up in his socks. Harry thought about Mei’s outbursts. They seemed to happen when she was angry or frustrated. It put Harry in mind of his accidental magic before Hagrid showed up with his letter. 

I didn’t feel any magic, though, when she pulled me into the tank. Maybe because she was in the water? He wondered.

Gemma slid the paper on the table toward Harry. He put the staff back in his pocket and picked up the anagnóstis to read her note.

“Harry, I like being able to talk like this. I’m glad you thought of it. It’s a lot faster. My brother said you talked to a snake during a dueling club last year—he said it was really cool. His friends thought it was freaky, but Terry said it’s a really rare gift. He thinks you’re a good seeker, too, even though Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor the year before. He said if you hadn’t been in the hospital wing during that match that you would have given them a run for their knuts.”

Harry didn’t want to talk about being a parselmouth in front of Tony and he didn’t really know what to say to Gemma about the Ravenclaw/Gryffindor match… it still made his stomach drop to think about losing that match even though he knew in his mind there was nothing he could have done.

Harry excused himself from the group after tea and went back to the dormitory—he was too tired to explore the Center. His wet trainers were really bugging him—water was squishing between his toes. He just wanted to sleep. It was all he could do to toe-off his trainers (hoping they’d dry while he slept) and his wet socks and climb into bed. It was a little damp from water splashed from Mei’s tank—but he didn’t care as he sank into the soft pillow and pulled the sheets around himself.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 48: Accio glasses

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 48 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

A cold hand with a vice-like grip had latched onto his wrist and was pulling him down and down into the seemingly endless depths of the tank. Harry had barely been able to gasp a breath of air before he was submerged. At first, he fought to rise to the surface but the hand that held him was so strong and torpedoing through the water, that he finally went limp and allowed himself to be pulled. His lungs were burning and just when he thought he would explode from the pain, they burst to the surface. 

He gasped for air and flailed, trying to keep his head above the waves that were tossing him around—he was certain that they were no longer in the dormitory. The air whipped around them, the water heaved in swells that carried him up and then dropped him down. The briny water filled his mouth and stung his nose. He spat it out and gulped in air. It felt so good to breathe. The hand had let go of his wrist and he wasn’t sure where Mei was or even if it was Mei who had grabbed him.

He was totally disoriented and dizzy—it seemed like they had traveled straight down and then the world tilted upright when they emerged on the surface of the water. His eyes were closed tight against the blinding sun and the stinging salt water.

A wave buoyed him up and then he was crashing down and he went underwater and then he wasn’t sure which way was up. He opened his eyes under the water hoping to be able to figure out up from the sunlight. The sea salt stung his eyes and he closed them again, but he’d gotten a sense of direction from the glimpse of light that he’d seen and realized that he’d been moving down and righted himself. He burst to the surface again and the hand grabbed his wrist again.

“For Merlin’s sake, I thought you’d be able to swim, Potter!” Mei bellowed at him. “Those cursed papers. Bloody hell.” 

It sounded like she was swatting at something, but Harry bobbed under water for a second, then came sputtering up to the surface with the help of Mei’s hand on his arm.

He was trying to scream “I can’t swim!” but he kept going under water. A big fish fin rubbed against his leg and he started, thinking it must be a shark, and then realized it had to be Mei’s tail.  

“What’s that?” she asked.

“I” sputter “can’t” gasp “swim!” gurgle.

“Yeah. I figured that out. Now, I’m going to be arrested for drowning the Boy Who Lived,” Mei sighed. “That’s just what I need.”

“Hey!” Harry protested throwing his head back to keep his mouth above water. He kicked his feet and his torso rose a bit out of the water. His trainers felt like they weighed a stone each.

“Don’t worry—I’m not going to let you drown.” 

“Don’t” gulp “ever” sputter “do” gasp “that” sputter “again” gulp.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, Potter. But why were you sticking your hand in my tank? That wasn’t cool!” Anger flashed through her voice again.

She held him by both arms so that his head stayed above water and he was finally able to speak without getting waterlogged.

His anger was abating now that he could breathe. “I thought you were drowning. I couldn’t hear you and you weren’t answering and I didn’t know where you went.”

Harry realized how silly it sounded now that he was saying it out loud.

Mei barked a laugh in response that sounded like the seals at the zoo. He had a vision of a selkie from a book he’d read during primary.

“I’m not going to drown! I’m part sea creature. I can be in the water for a long time,” she hooted with laughter.

“But you said you couldn’t live in the ocean,” he reminded her, feeling chagrined. 

“Right, I can’t live out here, but I can stay underwater for a lot longer. I just need to surface to breathe air—like a dolphin. I’m a mammal and still part human, not really a full-fledged jiāorén. I can’t live at the bottom of the ocean with my relatives—I have to be near the surface. My great-great-great grandmother was a true jiāorén and somehow I got the blood. They thought the blood had been bred out after a few generations of children without a hint of jiāorén—no more pearl tears or anything fishy and then I… ” She trailed off, her anger tinged with bitterness.

Harry bobbed in the water, held at arm’s distance from Mei.

“That must have been hard—to be so different from your family,” Harry said.

He was thinking about his own family, even though, in his case, he had been elated to find out the reason for his profound difference from the Dursleys.

“Yeah. I feel really alone,” she said and her tail slapped on the surface of the water surprising Harry with a spray of salty water in his mouth.

“I tried visiting the Jiāorén when it first happened—I thought that maybe they’d be able to help me or something… accept me… but I felt even more out of place among them. Their world is so different from ours… everything I did was wrong-footed,” she snorted and then a little sob escaped. 

“I miss my feet.”

“Yeah. It sucks, doesn’t it?” 

“Everyone talks about how cool it is that I can swim so fast and stay underwater and everything, even that my tail is beautiful. And yeah, that’s true. But I just want to be normal me again. I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this.” 

“Yeah.” 

Mei sighed and gently squeezed his arms in a way that made him think that it was what she needed to hear. They bobbed in the water. Then she let go of him with one hand for a moment and it sounded like she was trying to catch something in the water between them.

“Here you go. You should keep this,” she said as she pressed her fist into the palm of his hand. She turned his hand upward and opened her fist on his palm, letting something small drop into his hand. He closed his fingers around it. It felt small, smooth, and round. He screwed up his face in confusion, and then the pieces fell into place.

“A pearl?” 

“Yes, a pearl,” she sighed. “I’ve been crying lots of them lately.”

“Oh, well. That’s kind of cool,” Harry admitted and then realized how that sounded. “I mean, not cool that you’ve been crying a lot lately. The pearl is cool. Thank you for the pearl.” 

“I should probably take you back. I bet everyone’s freaking out. It’s too bad you can’t see the view here, though. It’s pretty incredible,” Mei said, her voice moving away from him as she turned around in the water to look.  

“Oh, is it? We’re not just out in the middle of the ocean with nothing to see but sea?” Harry asked.

“No, we’re off a coral reef that’s teeming with all sorts of colorful creatures and there’s an island not too far away with a volcano that rises up and disappears into the clouds. I explored some of it after lunch after we got this setup.” 

“Oh, yeah. I can hear the gulls. Maybe we can come back?” Harry said. “Hey, is this connected to the beach we visited earlier today?”

“No, this is a different beach. That one was in a different part of the world. This one is in the South Pacific and that one was more Caribbean. I wonder if we could get the Center to connect the beaches—then I could go to class through my tank and not have to worry about getting my hydration time in,” she laughed. “Though if we’re going to spend more time in the water, you’re going to have to learn how to swim. I’m not going to haul you around the ocean making sure you don’t drown.” 

“I kind of figured that I’m going to learn how to swim since that room was a beach,” Harry said.

“True. Well, take a big breath of air, we’re going back.”

Harry filled his lungs and Mei plunged down into the depths of the ocean, hauling Harry behind her by the wrist. Again, he couldn’t figure which way was up until they burst through the surface of her tank. Harry imagined that his bed got a healthy dousing of water. This time he had enough air in his lungs, so the journey wasn’t quite so painful as the first time.

They were greeted by a scream and a shout. Harry thought it must be Aminah and Tony, and then felt Gemma’s small hand on his shoulder. Aminah and Tony were talking over each other, both were pretty agitated.

“Oh, settle down, would you?” Mei yelled. 

“I told you that they’d be freaking out,” she whispered, her voice was right in Harry’s ear as she pushed him to the side of the tank. 

Gemma grabbed his arm and helped him find the edge. He still had the pearl clutched in his fist. 

“Harry, come over here … to this side,” Mei said, as she flicked her tail and moved away from him. “There’s a ledge that makes it easier to get out.” 

He edged along the side toward her voice until his knees banged into the ledge and he was able to then stand up, sending seawater cascading into the room. Gemma kept her hand on his arm as he clambered out. He staggered a bit as he found he was dizzy from the journey to the other side of the world.

Aminah and Tony were harranging Mei about why she’d pulled Harry into the tank—it sounded like Gemma had seen it and alerted Aminah who shouted for Tony’s help—and that they were all surprised to learn that the tank was actually a tunnel that led who knows where.

“An island in the South China Sea,” Harry provided. He heard the paper flapping by his mouth again and imagined all the papers from his conversation with Mei sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Aminah asked.

“Yeah. Just wet and a bit dizzy,” he said as he swayed on his feet. 

Will this be the last time today I’m going to be knocked around by Mei? he wondered.

“Anyone know how to do a drying spell?” Harry asked. 

Both Aminah and Tony said, “No.” 

“I can’t do magic until I get my Jiāorén and witch magic sorted out.” 

Gemma tapped his arm once, “No.”

Harry heard Gemma’s footsteps retreat and then return and she wrapped a towel around his shoulders.

“If you’re sure you are okay, I’m going back,” Aminah said. And Tony agreed and he heard them both walking away.

Gemma touched his clenched fist and drew a question mark on the back of his hand. He revealed the pearl to her. She picked it up and then set it back on his palm. He put it in his pocket where he found the scrolls in his pocket—sopping wet—and had a sinking feeling that he’d never know who’d written them nor what they said.

He pulled them out and held them out to Gemma. “Gemma, what do you think, any chance I’ll be able to read these?” 

He could hear her unrolling the wet paper. She drew a question mark into the palm of his hand.

“Are they completely blank then?” 

“Yeah, it looks like the ocean washed the ink off the parchment, Harry,” Mei said. “Sorry.”

“Okay, I’m going to change,” Harry said.

He wished he could remember the spell that Tony’s dad had used earlier when he dropped the pitcher of icy water on his lap.

Gemma pressed his staff into his hand. 

“Oh, thanks, Gemma!”

She took his palm and asked, “ G-L-A-S-S-E-S-? ”

Harry felt his face. They were gone.

He turned toward Mei, “Mei, do you know what happened to my glasses?”

“No. Why do you need them anyway? Your eyes don’t look weird. They are actually kind of nice. You shouldn’t hide them behind those glasses.” 

“They help me with the bright lights that hurt my eyes.” 

“I thought you couldn’t see?” 

“I can’t, except for bright lights, but that’s all I see and it hurts, so my shaded glasses help protect my eyes,” he said. 

Am I going to have to explain this to people every single day? he wondered.

“Is that why you were closing your eyes when we were out on the ocean?” 

“Yes and the seawater stung. Can I summon my glasses from the water?” 

“It’s worth a shot,” Mei said.

Gemma tapped his arm twice, “Yes.”

He held his staff over the water and said, “Accio glasses.”

He was reminded of Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets, when he was wet with blood and venom, uttering the same words.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 47: Going for a swim

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 47 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

The group of roommates made their way back to the dorm together, subdued and quiet in their progress. Harry wasn’t sure if the group therapy approach to dealing with student infractions was better or worse than detentions. He felt a bit queasy as a result and he had never felt that way leaving detention.

And I didn’t even cause the disturbance—I was just in the way, he thought. 

He wondered how Tony got through each day—all the little things that add up to big things.

People probably wonder that about me, too. I’m just doing what I have to do. I imagine that Tony’s doing the same. 

He wondered what Mei’s mermaid magic was and how it was different from wixen magic. Maybe he could ask Hermione? Would that be violating the privacy piece they’d all agreed to?

Probably. 

He could ask Mei, but he was afraid of setting her off again. Maybe he could go to the library and use his anagnóstis to read up on it. 

His anagnóstis! He’d forgotten about it, but he and Gemma could use it to communicate! She could write and he could read what she wrote! 

Why didn’t I think of it earlier? He kicked himself.

He was so excited that he wanted to stop right there and tell Gemma all about it, but decided to wait until they were in the dorm and he could actually show her. 

Gemma touched his hand and he realized that he was squeezing her arm. “Sorry, I was thinking about a way we can talk more easily. I’ll show you when we’re back in our dorm.” 

She squeezed his arm to let him know she understood. The way her hand fluttered on his made him understand that she was excited about it, too. 

“Aminah, where are you headed?” Mei called out. 

“I’m going to our dorm, am I going the wrong way?” Aminah asked from across the corridor. 

“Yeah, it’s over here. That’s the dorm for the older residents.” Mei told her. 

“Oh, thank you!” Aminah said as her steps approached, “I guess I didn’t give my staff the right directions.” 

“What did you tell it?” asked Harry, curious in case he made the same mistake. 

“I said ‘Navigant dormitory room,’ but I guess I need to tell it which one.” Aminah answered.

“What’s our dormitory name?” Harry asked. 

“It’s ‘Montmorency’,” said Mei, with exasperation in her voice, “Everything is named after places in France, I guess.”

As they filed into their dormitory, Harry sniffed the air—it was warm and humid and smelled like the ocean. Gemma led Harry to the end of his bed and waved across his hand.

“Bye,” Harry said in response.  

Harry could hear Mei’s wheelchair in her area, next to his. He couldn’t really hear Tony… he must be in the loo, he could hear someone in there. 

He followed the contour of his bed to the desk next to his bed. The layout of the room was weird, he was noticing. It wasn’t a square as he was expecting, it was circular, but different than Gryffindor tower which was pretty spacious and each bed in Gryffindor tower had a lot of space around it. This was pretty cramped. 

Like a powder keg. 

He was surprised by the sound of something being splashed in water really close to him and instinctively turned his head to the sound. 

“Potter, don’t look!” Mei blurted out. 

Harry froze for a second, “I can’t see, Mei. Remember?” 

“Oh, yeah,” she admitted. “But it looks like you’re watching… like you’re looking with your ears. It’s kind of freaky.”

“I was just trying to figure out why it sounds like there is a pool in here,” Harry responded.  

“Oh, that’s because there is. My hydration pool. I’m about to get in it. I hate it when people watch me,” Mei said. 

“I promise I’m not.” 

Harry sat at his desk and tried to look as if he were absorbed in retrieving his anagnóstis from his staff along with the scrolls that Hedwig had delivered earlier. He remembered he hadn’t read them yet. 

Harry unrolled one of the scrolls as he heard Mei move from her wheelchair and slide into the water. Droplets of warm water splashed on his neck, side of his face, and the back of his hand. He imagined she had flicked her tail. The water had a briny smell and he was reminded of how much fun it had been to splash in the waves at the beach earlier with Hermione. Mei sighed and made noises that made him think that the water must feel good. He wondered if she’d sleep in the pool, too. Then it sounded like she dove underwater and he was splashed with a considerable amount of water. He ran his fingers over the parchment he had unscrolled and was getting ready to read and realized that it was pretty wet. He used the bottom edge of his t-shirt to soak up the water and hoped that the ink hadn’t run. He thought about the possible stain on his shirt afterward and shrugged it off. It probably had mustard stains on it already from being a hand-me-down from Dudley. 

He was expecting Mei to resurface and splash more water, so leaned over the paper and tried to protect it from getting wet, but she didn’t come back up. After a bit, he was starting to get worried. He rolled up the scroll and stuck it back in his pocket and stood up tentatively. 

“Mei?” he asked. “Are you okay?” 

No answer. Gemma and Aminah seemed to be involved in a conversation—Harry could hear Aminah’s side of it, or at least her low voice murmuring. He gathered that Tony was still in the loo. 

“Hey, Mei—can you hear me?” he asked a little louder. 

Still no answer. Also, the water seemed completely still. He wasn’t sure how big the tank was. From the sounds she made earlier, he was guessing it was about the size of a bed. The room wasn’t that big and he imagined she had room to maneuver in her wheelchair and that she had a desk and a wardrobe as he did, maybe even a bed in addition to the tank. Or maybe the tank was in place of the bed. It hadn’t smelled like the ocean the first time he’d entered the room. 

He walked to the end of his wardrobe and felt around for the beginning of Mei’s space, trying to find something that he could identify to help orient him. He stuck out his foot, too, feeling the ground in front of him. He remembered his staff, and pulled it out of his pocket and squeezed it twice for the description of the area and found the edge of the tank with his hand. It was shorter than he thought—more like the height of the bed than the desk. It was made of metal, not glass like a fish tank—he realized that he was imagining something where Mei would be visible swimming around as if she were in an aquarium. 

She wouldn’t want to be on display like that. 

“Mei, are you all right?” 

She’s a mermaid, right? She can stay underwater for a long time. But she said she couldn’t live in the ocean—so maybe she can’t stay underwater? Should I be worried? he wondered.

He thought about sticking his hand in the water and feeling around, then considered what Mei would do to him if she was fine and he was interrupting her hydration time—or if, Merlin forbid, he accidentally touched her tail while she was in the water. 

I can’t imagine that going well, he thought.

What if I get Aminah and Gemma’s attention and they help me figure out if Mei’s okay? Then what if we’re all standing around her tank and Mei surfaces and gets really mad and hurts them because I called them over? 

He stuck his hand in the water to see if he could feel Mei—just below the surface, moving it back and forth in a widening arc. He put his hand down a little deeper, nothing. He moved along the side of the tank and his staff warned him of the wheelchair in his path. He tried to move it, but the brakes must have been on because it didn’t budge. He walked around it and swished his hand through the water again. 

“Mei, are you okay? Are you in there?” 

No answer.  This time he leaned over and stuck his hand down to the bottom, but it went farther down than he expected—beyond the floor. His sleeve got wet.

Of course, it is magically extended, so she has more space to swim. Maybe she swam out to sea.

Suddenly Harry was being hauled forward into the water by his arm that he had left dangling in the water. He dropped his staff as he tumbled into the water.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 46: Apologies

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 46 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Just admitting out loud to a group of, well, not strangers exactly, but new acquaintances that he wanted to trust the Center took a toll and Harry broke out in a sweat that prickled under his arms. He tensed for a second waiting for the backlash from his peers. When nothing happened he hurriedly passed the staff to Gemma, remembering at the last second that he was supposed to say what he was doing so Aminah would know, “I’m passing the staff to Gemma,” he added in a rush. 

He admonished himself for opening up so easily. There was something about this place and Healer Jordan. 

Archimedea—who names their child Archimedea?—wixen—no wonder she goes by Jordan—I thought Jordan was her first name—like Healer Andy, he thought.

He felt really good about the Center and that’s why he was inclined to trust it. But trusting was scary and even more so was saying so. Out loud. To people. People who had violent outbursts. 

Why did I do it?

The bells tinkled as Gemma took the talking stick from Harry’s hand and then stopped. Harry imagined she held the stick between her knees as she signed.

“I’m Gemma Boot and I’m glad to be here and to be making new friends who don’t shut me out because I can’t hear and who don’t cringe and turn away because of my scars.” 

Her magical voice said all these things without emotion, but Harry knew that there was emotion behind the words. He wondered if he would have turned away from her scars if he’d been able to see them or shut her out because she couldn’t hear if he had met her before he was in the same boat. His first impulse was to deny that he would have been so cruel, but then he had to admit to himself that he didn’t know. 

I wouldn’t do it knowingly, he acknowledged, but what about unconsciously? I might not have even noticed her. 

But then he reminded himself that he did tend to notice the kids on the fringe because that’s where he usually was. Though sometimes he was so caught up in his own stuff that he didn’t notice what was going on in other people’s lives. 

Gah. This talking about feelings stuff is worse than venturing into the Forbidden Forest. 

Harry’s skin felt clammy.

“I’m passing the talking stick to Aminah,” Gemma continued. 

The bells rang gently as it was passed.

“Thank you,” Aminah said.

Harry leaned forward in an effort to hear her. 

“I’m Aminah Khan. I’m going to try to … trust the Center… and this process,” she said quietly. “I’m passing the stick to Mei.” 

The bells rang quietly. They were silent for a second, then they rang gently again. “Mei, would you please take the talking stick from Aminah,” Healer Jordan pressed.

The gentle tinkle of the bells became violent as if they were being shaken hard. Harry sat back and heard Aminah’s feet shift on the rocky terrain.

“Mei, you can do this. It’ll be okay,” Healer Jordan encouraged.

Mei let out a big sigh and then gulped in a breath.

“You know that I’m Mei Lee. Obviously, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to have a fishtail. I don’t like this body that I’m in. I can’t live in the ocean and I can only live a half-life on the land—using a stupid muggle wheelchair because my Jiāorén magic clashes with my witch magic. I didn’t ask for any of this!”

She was shouting by the end of it. Her pain was palpable—it emanated in waves that crashed against the small group. Harry recoiled. He felt his staff in his pocket respond to it as if he were being stung by a stinging hex. He grabbed his thigh and cried out. Aminah shrieked and next to him he heard another explosion and Tony fell off his tree stump, careening into Harry.

Healer Jordan jumped up and cast a protection spell, “Protego!” and the sparking in his pocket stopped. Harry twisted and helped Tony get to his feet by leaning against him and putting his arm across Tony’s broad back and grasping him by his torso, just underneath his armpits. Tony was quite a bit bigger than he was and heavy, so Harry was just able to support him. His hands had passed over what he realized must be the remnants of Tony’s arms, stumps that contained bones and muscles, rotating within his shoulders as if they were trying to reach out, but too short to be effective. 

“Sorry,” Harry uttered when he realized what he was touching. When he felt Tony get his feet back under him and start to stand up, he let go. 

“Thanks, man,” Tony muttered.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Mei was yelling—her voice sounded like it was trapped under a glass.

“Mei, it is okay,” Healer Jordan consoled. She was going around the circle and checking in with everyone to see if they were okay and collecting the staffs and wands from the teens. She explained that she’d put them at a safe distance from the discussion and give them back when they were done. Harry listened as she walked several feet away and heard the clatter of the wooden objects on a bench on the outer circle. When she got back to her spot, she sat down.

“Mei, is this what happened on the bench earlier?” Healer Jordan asked.

Harry wasn’t aware of his staff sparking before, but remembered the sting on his thigh. He was going to speak up, but closed his mouth when he remembered that Mei still had the talking stick and waited patiently.

“Yes, I was mad because Tony sat down next to me when there wasn’t enough room on the bench and he must have a wand in his pocket because there was an explosion and it burned my fin.” Mei’s voice was still coming from behind the shield spell, though it sounded like her anger had quelled.

“There was enough room!” Tony interjected. “How was I supposed to know that you’d set off my wand?”

“Tony, would you like the talking stick? Can you use I statements, please?” Healer Jordan patiently reminded Tony of the norms she had laid out earlier.

“I was,” Tony grumbled under his breath. Harry was pretty sure he was the only one who heard it, but then the paper fluttered.

“This is a good time to remember that everyone is trying to do their best,” Healer Jordan prompted.

Harry heard the tattletale bells on the talking stick. Healer Jordan narrated, “Mei is passing the talking stick to me, and I’m passing it to Tony,” as the bells traveled from Mei to Tony.

“Tony, please tell us what happened from your perspective,” Healer Jordan asked.

“I arrived late and saw that all my roommates were sitting together, so I thought I should sit with them and the only spot was a gap between Mei and Gemma, so I sat there. Gemma moved over to let me sit, but Mei scooted toward me instead of away. Harry and Aminah made room for me, too, and Gemma scooted farther away, but every time there was extra room it felt like Mei took it instead of letting me sit. So, finally I just sat before she could take up the room and that’s when the explosion happened and the bench fell over. She did it on purpose to embarrass me. And then she called me an armless… ” Tony trailed off, but Harry remembered and his mind supplied, “wanker,” unwittingly.  It seemed especially cutting and mean-spirited with the feeling of Tony’s amputated arms fresh in his memory.

“Tony, while you may feel you know why someone did something, no one can really know except the person who did it. Let’s keep our statements to the facts that we know and allow others to inform us of their motivation for their actions.” Healer Jordan’s voice was steady.

“I was telling you there wasn’t room and to sit somewhere else and you refused to listen and just sat down anyway!” Mei shouted.

“Please use the talking stick, Mei,” Healer Jordan reminded.

“You can shove it up your… ” Mei stopped herself before she finished, apparently appalling even herself. 

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Thank you,” Healer Jordan acknowledged the apology in a terse tone.

“You can give her the talking stick, Healer Jordan,” Tony suggested and Harry heard the tinkling bells as it was transferred to Mei.

“Here, Mei. Can you state what happened from your perspective?” Healer Jordan encouraged.

“I didn’t want him to sit there, so I moved over so he couldn’t when I felt like he wasn’t listening to me. I’m sorry that I accidentally caused an explosion that made the bench fall over.” 

“Can I have the talking stick, please?” Tony asked, his voice low. 

It was passed and he said, “I’m sorry that I budged in. I just wanted to feel like I belonged. I’m sorry that the bench fell over and that you all were hurt.” His apology seemed heartfelt.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they could go soon.

Gemma’s magic voice asked, “May I have the talking stick, please?”

“Sure,” said Tony.

Harry realized that it was up to him to pass it and he reached out for it again, and Tony verbally guided him until he found it and he passed it to Gemma.

“Thanks,” Gemma acknowledged. “I’m sorry, too. I should have realized what was going on, but I could only understand Mei’s side of the conversation. I should have offered you the spot between me and Harry,” Gemma’s voice was almost mechanical in its emotionless aspect, but her words conveyed her feelings.

“May I have the talking stick, Gemma?” Aminah asked.

“Sure, here it is.” 

“Thank you, Tony, for your apology and you, too, Mei,” Aminah said. “I’m concerned, though, that Mei’s magic is so out of control and we’re roommates. Will this happen every time she gets angry?  ‘Cause my staff got hot when she shouted earlier and it was sparking when the bench fell over. And I need my staff to get around, I can’t just quarantine it while Mei’s near me.” 

“Aminah, can you direct your question to Mei instead of asking about her?” Healer Jordan encouraged.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Aminah sounded embarrassed. “Mei, is there anything you can do to make sure this doesn’t happen again?”

Harry heard the bells and knew that Aminah had passed the stick to Mei.

“Um, yeah. I dunno. Leave the Center?” Mei said.

“Mei, what are some other options?” Healer Jordan suggested.

“I really don’t know,” Mei sounded defeated and sad. “I mean, this is why I’m here because I keep having these outbursts and I can’t be around magic things, even my broom channels my mermaid magic strangely. I was hoping that I’d learn some ways to control it.”

“That’s good, Mei. That’s what we’re going to try to do. What can you do about it in the meantime?”

“I can try not to get so angry, I guess.” Mei conceded.

“It isn’t that you shouldn’t get angry—right? Because that’s just how you are feeling. That’s an emotion—it happens. It is what you’re doing with that emotional energy that is hurting the people around you and yourself.  What are some of the strategies we discussed earlier?” Healer Jordan asked.

“Counting to ten, breathing, leaving an area until I calm down… ” Mei listed mechanically.

“Mei, can I have the talking stick?” Tony asked.

“Okay,” Mei responded. It tinkled as it was passed and set between Tony’s legs.

“Mei, I didn’t know about your accidental magic issues. That’s rough. I think the hardest thing for me about losing my arms is not what is so obvious— that everyone is pitying me about—like not being able to feed myself, go to the bathroom, get dressed, pick up something, but that I can’t even use my wand so that I can do these things with magic. I think it would be hard to have to stay away from anything magical. It’s like a double whammy.” Tony’s tone was filled with an empathy that Harry didn’t expect from the Slytherin.

Harry wanted to add something… but he didn’t know what. He was having a hard time finding the words.

Healer Jordan asked if anyone else wanted the talking stick. Harry hedged and then the opportunity was gone.

“Okay, I want to commend you all for your good work today finding a constructive way to talk about the events of this afternoon. We’ll have many more opportunities for discussions like this. You have the rest of the day to relax and take care of your needs.”

“Healer Jordan, what time is tea served?” Aminah asked.

“Oh, it’s served at 3 pm,” Healer Jordan said over her shoulder. She must have been walking toward the bench where she had put the wands and staves. She returned them to Tony, Aminah and Harry. Harry ran his hands over his and wondered if he’d be able to tell it apart from Aminah’s.

He shook it out and summoned his bottle of water—when he felt the familiar shape of the bottle in his hand, he knew he had the right staff. He took a sip of water and thought about what he wanted to do for the rest of the day. 

It’d be nice to sleep some more… 

Gemma came over and asked him, “Do you want to go back to th… ” but her words were cut off mid-sentence. Harry furrowed his brow and waited for a bit, thinking that she had been distracted by something she saw, but then her hand was on his arm, pulling his palm up, so she could write on it. She drew a question mark. 

“Why did you stop talking?” Harry asked. 

“S-O-R-R-Y” space “H. -J-O-R-D-A-N” space “G-O-N-E” space “S-P-E-L-L” space “E-N-D-E-D” Her spelling in his hand felt sad and lackluster.

“Oh well. It was nice while it lasted,” Harry shrugged. “Yes, let’s go back to the dorm.”

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 45: Council

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 45 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

The bench had been righted and Aminah was helped to a seated position. When Harry shook out his staff to leave with the others who weren’t injured, Healer Jordan gently guided him back, muttering that she needed to take a look at his back. Gemma’s small warm hand slipped inside of his and she led him to a bench to sit down while they waited their turn. 

Healer Jordan had summoned glasses of water for everyone who stayed behind as well as a tent that was equipped with healing supplies, camp beds, and a curtain so everyone was able to get out of the wind. 

Harry wondered why they didn’t all just travel to the healing offices in the Center, but didn’t voice his concerns. Healer Jordan and another healer that Harry didn’t know performed diagnostics on everyone and started working on Mei and Tony first, then Aminah. Gemma helped him find a camp bed out of the wind and then Healer Jordan attended to her bruises.  

Harry laid down on the bed and listened to the quiet snippets of conversation between the healers learning that Mei and Tony had sustained burns and cuts. He wasn’t sure how. Aminah seemed to be recovering—she was talking with Gemma—allowing Gemma to write into her hand on her uninjured arm.

Harry drifted off to sleep while he waited for his turn—the camp bed was more comfortable than he realized a camp bed could be. When Healer Jordan gently shook him to wake him, Harry was grateful that the area no longer smelled like burnt fish.

She spent a little more time with Harry than he expected and had to ask Gemma to give him some privacy. Gemma had caught a glimpse of his back apparently and was very concerned and Healer Jordan had to be quite firm with her.

She had healed his other bruises in addition to the new ones. He gingerly pressed his fingers to his face where he had run into a door again that week and it was no longer tender. He felt better than he’d felt in over a month which made him feel a little giddy. He hadn’t really noticed how achy he was until the pain was gone. She had made small noises when she was working with him that made him think that she wasn’t done with him. And that made him nervous.

“Harry, I want you to drink this potion. It will help you heal faster,” Healer Jordan said pressing a small vial into his hand. 

“What is it?” Harry asked, sniffing it. 

“It’s a nutritional supplement.”

He took a sip and found that it was delicious and eagerly downed the rest. He wanted to lie down on the camp bed again… with the potion warming his belly and the relief from his aches and pains, he felt like he could sleep for a year. He laid down again and was surprised when Gemma was pushing against his shoulder nudging him awake. 

“What is it?” he asked groggily. 

Gemma took his hand and wrote, “T-I-M-E” space “T-O” space “G-E-T” space “U-P.”

Harry rubbed his eyes and realized that his glasses weren’t on his face. He moved his hand through the air by the camp bed hoping to find a table. Gemma wrote a question mark on his hand. 

“Do you know where my glasses are?” he asked. 

She reached over him to the other side of the camp bed and he heard his metal frames being dragged across a wood surface. 

“Thanks,” he said as he put them on. 

She pulled on his hand urging him to stand up. He followed reluctantly—wishing he could sleep more. It sounded like Healer Jordan was asking everyone to gather. When he left the tent enclosure, he heard a pop of magic and felt a whoosh of wind and realized that it had been magicked away. 

Healer Jordan invited the five roommates to sit on tree stumps in a close circle in the center of the amphitheater. This time they were not all squinched onto one bench. Gemma guided Harry to one and he heard Healer Jordan helping Aminah find another. Gemma sat next to Harry on his left side, she was close enough that she could lean close and touch his arm. Tony sat on the tree stump next to him.

There was a heavy silence and it finally dawned on Harry that a conversation was brewing. He felt dense. Healer Jordan was going to talk to them about what had happened and why. His stomach contracted and he had a sudden desire to flee the room. He didn’t see any good coming out of talking about the incident.

And why do I have to be here? I was just an innocent bystander, he thought. 

He pressed down on his leg which seemed to be hopping around as if it were filled with Mexican jumping beans. He was surprised that Mei didn’t snap at him. He noticed how quiet she was—that in itself was unnerving.

He heard her wheelchair moving over the sandy, uneven mountain earth and get stuck on something. Mei growled in frustration and Tony barked, “Why on earth are you using a stupid muggle contraption when you could have something magical that actually works?”

Harry had been wondering the same thing, but had been too afraid to ask. He froze—expecting another explosion to send him hurling backward again. 

These two are combustible. 

“You can’t put two and two together, can you?” Mei retorted.  

Tony was sputtering when Healer Jordan interjected from the other side of Tony, “I hear a lot of anger and frustration from both of you. All of you have recently experienced severe trauma that has unalterably changed your lives. It is perfectly normal to experience a wide range of emotions as a result, including anger and frustration. You might even feel as if the emotions have control over you rather than you having control of these emotions. And that’s why we’re here, and this is as good a time as any to start sorting through what you’re feeling. Over the next month, you will be working on healing both in your mind and your body and you will learn how to ride the wave of the emotion rather than being pulled out to sea by the undercurrent or dashed onto the beach,”

Mei’s characteristic snort interrupted directly across the circle from Harry, “Next you’ll be telling us to form pearls from the sand in our wounds.”

Healer Jordan was silent for a moment, then she quietly responded, “That’s fair, Mei. I should have drawn my metaphors from something that was not quite so painfully close to home for you. I am sorry. I apologize.”

Harry was shocked. He hadn’t heard an adult admit to making mistakes, especially to such a caustic teen as Mei. It seemed to also take the wind out of Mei’s sails and he heard her let out a breathy sigh.

“Before we continue with our conversation,” Healer Jordan continued, “we need to make sure we can all understand each other. Tony, I’m going to help you cast the Scribunt loqui spell so that Gemma can see what you’re saying. Harry and Aminah, I’m going to cast a spell that allows you to hear what Gemma is saying. It will still write out your words, Gemma, so that you can see them, too.”

Healer Jordan first worked with Tony. Harry could feel her robes brushing against him as she helped Tony hold his wand against the stump of his wand arm and coached him to focus his magical energy through what remained of his appendage so that he could cast the spell. It took him quite a bit longer to cast the spell, but when he was finally successful, it felt like a huge achievement.

“Nice going, Tony!” Harry leaned over to acknowledge his success along with the others. 

“Did that work, Gemma?” Tony asked. 

Gemma clapped enthusiastically when his words fluttered on the parchment. 

What was truly amazing, though, was to hear Gemma’s voice. It was not the voice Harry imagined she’d have (the magical voice sounded older and deeper than what he’d expected) but to be able to hear the stream of her thoughts rather than the truncated versions he’d been getting was like being caught in an unexpected deluge after a drought. She dove right in, “Oh, Harry, I’m so glad that we can finally talk easily! I have so much to tell you!”

Harry laughed, “Great! I suppose we won’t get any sleep tonight!”

“Not a chance!” she rejoined. Mei groaned in response, but without her usual bile.

Healer Jordan brought them back to the topic at hand. 

“Okay, we need to talk about the events of today to try to heal through processing what happened and why. Typically we would build our community norms as a group, but right now I’m going to introduce some of the tools we use in council when we are sharing difficult thoughts and feelings. First, what happens in council stays in council—if someone shares something that you want to process outside of the group, then you need to ask permission from them to discuss it. I’ll also ask you to speak from your heart and listen from your heart as well. Do your best and know that others are also doing their best. We’ll pass a talking stick and only the person who is holding it can speak—when it is passed, say so aloud and state the name of the person you’re passing it to.” 

Here there was a light jingling of bells and Harry thought that the stick must be decorated with the tiniest of bells.  

Healer Jordan continued: “If you’d like the talking stick, indicate so in a respectful and unobtrusive way—raise your hand, snap your fingers, tap your foot. Speak from your own experiences and use I statements. Be mindful of your contributions to the discussion—if you’ve been contributing a lot, maybe it is time to sit back and listen, if you’ve been listening, maybe it is time for you to lean into the discussion and share your thoughts. Make sure to respectively question things that you don’t agree with, though refrain from attacking others for their beliefs.” 

She took a breath and paused. Harry thought she was done, but she went on. 

“Council conversations are often uncomfortable because we’re digging into areas that maybe are easier to leave buried, but by uncovering them we are able to release toxins that are hurting us and others and then start healing in earnest. I know that this is not the way the wixen community typically addresses challenges and that it will feel very foreign to many of you. Trust that here at the Center, we’ve been practicing and refining these methods for generations and most of our graduates have found them to be very effective.”

She paused again, then said, “I’ll get us started by passing the talking stick around.” 

The bells tinkled again as if she were shaking it in the air.

 “And I’ll ask you each to say your name and share something about yourself that you’d like everyone to know. I’m going to ask that we observe a minute of silence first to help ground us in this work.” 

She was silent and the bells were silenced, though Harry could hear her steady breaths from where she sat on the other side of Tony.

Harry listened as the others shifted on their wooden tree stumps… the sounds that Tony was making—his labored breathing, the sharp movements of his feet made Harry think that he was very uncomfortable with this impending discussion. Mei was rocking the wheels of her chair back and forth slightly and the sand made a loud crunching noise under the wheels—louder now that everyone was so quiet. Aminah who must have been sitting between Mei and Gemma was virtually undetectable by Harry. He really couldn’t tell if she was there or not. Even though Gemma couldn’t hear how noisy her feet were shuffling back and forth on the rocky ground, Harry found it reassuring. 

The minute stretched on much longer than a minute, Harry was pretty certain. He found himself listening to the chattering of the birds in the aspen groves and the way the wind made the aspen leaves shiver and shake. He could feel the sun emerging from behind a cloud and warming his face.

When a gentle bell broke the silence with its clear high pitch, Harry was jarred back to the present. He had drifted off somewhere peaceful for a moment. Healer Jordan let the bell’s quiet resonance fade and then shook the bells on the talking stick and spoke.

“Okay, I’ll start now. I’m Archimedea Jordan and I’d like to share with you that my impetus for working at the Center is connected to my desire to prevent others from feeling the isolation and estrangement that my brother felt after he was wounded during the first Wizarding War.” 

Her voice had a thick quality to it that made Harry feel as though there was a lot more to the story. 

“I’m going to pass the stick to Tony and place it so that he can hold it with his knees.” 

Harry knew that she was explaining this for his benefit. He was going to have to find the stick when it was his turn. He felt heat rising in his neck.

Harry held his breath, waiting for Tony to speak. It sounded like the others had as well. He could hear Tony shifting slightly making the bells on the stick tinkle quietly.

“I’m Tony Montague,” he said and then he was very quiet. 

Harry wondered after a bit if he was done and if should take the stick, but then Tony spoke again. 

“I don’t want to be here and I don’t want to do this,” he said with finality. 

Harry could hear the bells on the stick moving. 

“Harry, I’m ready to pass the stick to you.” 

Harry stretched his hand out to the center of the circle in front of Tony, then started passing it through the air toward the sound of the bells. Tony muttered, “down a bit, mate,” and then Harry found it and took it. He held it in his hands and felt along the length of it. It was embellished with beads and bells of different sizes. It wasn’t just a stick.

“I’m Harry Potter and… ” 

He was torn. He wanted to share the truth—that he was glad to be there—but it seemed like it would be seen as though he were sucking up to Healer Jordan by Tony and Mei. He fought with his general distrust of adults and their systems. Deep down, he felt safer here than he’d felt in a long, long time. 

“I’m not sure why we’re doing this… but I guess I’ll try… to do it.” 

It was hard to get it out, but he finally managed.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 44: Overturned

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 44 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Harry was tapping his foot nervously waiting for the introduction of the instructors. Mei had transferred from her wheelchair and was sitting on the bench next to Gemma. 

“Knock off the nervous twitching, Harry! You’re going to bounce me right off this bench,” she hissed. 

“Oh, sorry!” Harry hadn’t even noticed he was doing it. 

Harry could hear the man who had been arguing earlier about going home each night chatting with someone in the row behind him. He thought maybe it was the mom from the family with children. From her nervous comments, he gathered that the father had taken the children home, but he wasn’t sure if she was glad her children were gone or if she was missing them—maybe both, Harry thought. Then the mother whispered to the man that there was a girl with the most beautiful iridescent fish tail sitting in the row in front of them that made Harry very worried that Mei would hear her. He didn’t think that would go over well. The man seemed surprised, “What? She has a fish tail? How is that even possible?!”

Harry turned his head and tried to give them a quelling look. He was surprised when it had the effect he wanted, but then he realized that something must have been happening… maybe the instructors were coming in the room? But then a noise emerged as if from a great distance that was like a fog horn: deep and resonant. 

Harry tapped Gemma’s hand and whispered, “Do you see anything? I hear a horn.” 

She wrote, “O-L-D” space “S-H-I-P” on his palm—but the way her hand was jittering he could tell that it was more than an old ship. She was just as enthralled with what she was seeing as she had been when they were up in the owlery tower. 

Aminah leaned over to Harry and whispered, “What did Gemma say?” 

“She said ‘old ship.’” Harry shrugged as he told Aminah. “But she seems really excited like it is so much more than that.” 

Gemma squeezed his hand, which made him think she’d seen what he was saying to Aminah. 

Aminah asked, “Old ship like a Viking Vessel or a Spanish Galleon?” 

Gemma wrote into Harry’s hand, “G-A-L-L-E-O-N,” and Harry whispered it to Aminah. 

They sat in eager anticipation as it approached, now Harry could hear bells clanging as well. This seemed like a rather grand entrance and he wondered what it could mean for their instruction. It seemed like the wind was picking up—the whispering of the aspen leaves that Hermione had described had become more frantic. Harry shivered. He hadn’t dressed for stormy mountain weather. He thought about his jumper that he had stuffed back into his staff during the train ride with Hermione and Dr. Granger that morning and wondered if he should get it out again. 

After a bit, when the wind didn’t relent, but seemed to be bringing in even colder air, Harry noticed that Gemma was shivering, too, and so was Aminah and he could hear Mei was cursing the cold wind under her breath. 

Harry took his staff out of his pocket and summoned his jumper, his winter coat, and two of his school robes from the staff. He passed them out to his friends who were mostly grateful for them (he nearly grabbed his winter coat back from Mei when she grumbled about it’s sorry state) and put on his jumper. 

Gemma seemed to be getting more excited as the wind picked up and Harry was eager to know what was going on. 

Harry heard someone’s footsteps crunching toward the center of the amphitheater, then Healer Jordan addressed them with her amplified voice. “Thank you all for gathering this afternoon to meet our instructors for our training course. We’re eagerly awaiting the arrival of our guest instructors who have traveled here from great distances.”

Mei was muttering: “Why all this fanfare? Is this the circus or something?” 

Harry had to admit, it seemed a bit over-the-top. 

“While many of your hours each day will be spent learning how to adapt to the changes that have recently occurred in your lives, and this work can often be tedious and at times frustrating, you will have moments of profound insight as well as small personal triumphs. At the Center, we have an unofficial motto taken from the words of a well-known muggle, Mother Teresa, who said, ‘Do your best and trust that others are doing their best. And be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.’”

Here Mei made a snide comment about strength lying and while he could see the humor, he was feeling buoyed up by Healer Jordan’s words, which really weren’t all that lofty or out of reach. He wasn’t sure why Mei felt like she had to cut down every good feeling, every encouragement and then the message of the words that Healer Jordan had just quoted hit him, “Trust that others are doing their best.” He remembered where Mei had been a few months ago. 

She’s doing her best. Maybe she has to let her sarcasm out before it eats her up, he thought. 

Harry shifted on the hard bench and took a breath of the fresh mountain air. It was still a bit chilly, especially when compared to the hot London air that he had just been inhaling at the top of the owlery tower with Gemma. He wondered if they were really in the Alps. 

He heard someone approaching from the ramp they had all entered the classroom (if it could be called a classroom), their footsteps changing as they transitioned from the planks of the ramp to the sandy terrain of the mountain top they were perched on. 

Tony asked Mei to budge up so that he could sit next to her and he felt the ripple effect as Gemma scooted closer to him. Harry moved closer to Aminah who moved down a bit. 

“What are you doing coming in so late?” Mei lashed out. “And sit on the other side of me. I need to sit on the end.” There was a hint of desperation in her tone and Harry wondered why. 

Healer Jordan had continued as if there hadn’t been an interruption, but Harry could hear the people behind them making noises of impatience as Mei and Tony continued to needle each other. 

“None of your business,” Tony retorted. 

Harry felt the bench rock as he sat down on the other side of Gemma. 

He realized that Healer Jordan was talking about one of the instructors and he had missed the first part and was just now catching on that she was talking about someone who was a great world traveler. 

“… traversed the globe, fought the slave trade in Africa, survived captivity in Siberia, and helped chart the Australian outback… ” 

Harry felt Gemma press into him again, and realized that she needed more room. The bench seemed to be rocking more as Tony and Mei were pushing against each other. 

He apologized to Aminah as he slid closer to her. She whispered back, “I’m right on the edge. I can’t move over anymore without falling off.” 

Harry whispered to Gemma that Aminah was on the edge, in case she hadn’t seen Aminah’s fluttering note. She tapped the back of his hand with a “yes” as the bench continued to rock. 

With all the commotion, he missed even more of the introduction of the new instructor catching only that he was a muggle Lieutenant of the British Royal Navy. 

As the rocking got more vigorous and Mei and Tony’s hissing and whispered insults louder, Harry began to wonder how strong the bench was and if it could withstand the onslaught of the two. 

There was a loud noise, like an explosion. Something stung his thigh. Gemma grasped his hand and suddenly Harry felt himself being launched backwards as the bench toppled beneath them. He heard people screaming in surprise and pain. His back collided with the ground and against something hard and sharp as well as something soft and yielding. Someone fell against his legs.

Voices were crying out in alarm. People nearby were asking him if he was okay and grabbing him, trying to pull him up, and then letting go when they realized that he was pinned down. Someone’s hand groped his face, fingers pushing into his mouth uncomfortably. He turned his head away, sputtering in disgust. 

“Sorry, mate.” 

He tried to sit up, but the person (Gemma?) was still sprawled across his legs and he realized that he must be pinning down Aminah as she was groaning underneath him and trying to extract her arm and shoulder. 

“Sorry, Aminah. Gemma is on top of me,” he explained. He was still struggling to get up and release her from under him. Gemma was also trying to sit up. 

“Get off me, you armless wanker!” Mei’s screech cut through the chaos and a hush fell around them. Harry heard a floundering that put him in mind of a very large fish. 

Tony’s guttural response was so raw that it cut into Harry’s innards and what was at first a hush, was now utter silence that erupted into alarmed calls to help out and the sound of people running. An ominous singed fishy odor hung in the air.  

Beneath him, Aminah was still. Only Gemma continued to move and was finally able to get to her feet. 

She tugged at Harry’s hands and he sat up and then tried to help up Aminah. Tony’s cry had dissolved into heaving sobs that were muffled as if he’d been pulled into an embrace. He couldn’t hear Mei anymore. Crunching footsteps and curt voices barking instructions filtered in through the cries. 

Harry pulled his legs off the toppled bench and kneeling, felt for Aminah who still seemed to be lying down. She was crying quietly and when his hand found her arm she yelped in pain and Harry recoiled. Gemma was standing next to Harry now, her hand squeezed on his shoulder. 

“Aminah, are you okay?” 

“My arm’s hurt,” she said, her voice laced with pain. 

“Just stay still Aminah, don’t try to get up.” Healer Jordan had knelt next to her on her other side. 

Tony’s sobs had quieted to hiccups. It sounded like he was still on the ground. Harry thought that he heard Mei was crying, too, and it sounded like another necklace had broken. Someone exclaimed, “Pearls!”

Man, we’re a mess, Harry thought. 

His back felt bruised. 

“Aminah, stay still. Your shoulder is dislocated, I’m going to put it back in place,” Healer Jordan assured her with a gentle voice. There was a magical pop and Aminah cried out in pain. 

Healer Jordan explained to her, “I’m going to ice your shoulder with a spell to help with the healing.”

Godric Burbage was speaking to Mei and another voice that Harry didn’t recognize had addressed Gemma briefly—her hand left his shoulder and she seemed to turn away from him—and then he gathered that they were speaking in sign language, because he couldn’t hear anything, except for the sound of hands meeting occasionally.  

“Harry, how about you? Are you hurt?” Healer Jordan asked. 

“I’m fine,” Harry replied, though his back hurt where he had landed on the rock. He didn’t think it was the kind of injury that would merit looking after.  

People in the room seemed to be talking amongst themselves now. The bench was still lying on the ground, presumably because Aminah was still resting. Something moved past Harry that made a whirring sound and stirred up dust. He wondered if it was a levitating gurney. 

Harry turned to Gemma, reached out and found her back. He could tell she was still talking in sign language by the way she was moving. She stopped and laid her hand on his arm. He could hear the person she had been talking to move away from them. 

“Are you okay,” he asked her. 

She tapped his arm twice, “yes,” and took his palm to write, “Y-O-U” space “O-K?” 

He nodded. 

Healer Jordan made her way past Harry, checking in with the people who had been sitting behind the overturned row and then he could hear her talking to Mr. Burbage. It sounded like Mei had been helped back into her wheelchair and that Healer Jordan and Mr. Burbage were attending to her injuries. Harry wondered how badly she was burned, he tapped Gemma’s arm to get her attention. 

“Is Mei hurt?” 

“Yes,” she tapped on his arm. 

“How badly?” 

She wrote a question mark in his hand which he took to mean that she didn’t know. He wasn’t sure where Tony was. 

“Is Tony okay?” he asked. She drew another question mark on his hand.  

Harry slowly lowered himself to the ground again to check in with Aminah who was still lying down. “How’s your arm feeling now?” he asked her. 

“It’s better,” she said. 

“I’m really sorry about landing on it.” 

“Like you could help it!” 

Healer Jordan  addressed the room with her amplified voice, “Folks, I’m sorry to say that we’re going to have to reschedule today’s events until tomorrow as we need to attend to the injured. We’ll meet again tomorrow morning at 9 am. You may retire to your rooms or explore the Center, nonresidents may leave the Center to return tomorrow.  Please review and abide by the Center’s safety and privacy procedures. Meals will be served at the scheduled times. Anyone who was injured should stay here until we’ve had a chance to assess the injury. We apologize for the inconvenience and unexpected nature of this event.”

Harry was surprised that there wasn’t a collective groan, then remembered that most of the people here were adults. 

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 43: Mont Blanc

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 43 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

As Harry and Gemma were walking through the dining hall and then down the corridor toward the owlery, Harry was thinking about how dramatically things had changed for him in a month. He could have never anticipated being where he was now. Ever. He was thinking about Mei, her anger and how she had been hurting herself. He understood it in a way he couldn’t have understood it before.

They were at the door of the owlery—the odor bowled him over as they pushed open the door and crossed the threshold. Gemma stood still for a moment when they first walked in and he heard her take a sharp intake of breath.

“What is it?” he asked.

She took his hand and wrote on his palm, “V-I-E-W” space “B-R-E-A-T-H-T-A-K-I-N-G-!”

She walked over to a window. He followed her arm down to the windowsill she was leaning against, feeling the peeling paint under his fingertips. The warm summer air blowing in through the window lifted London’s unique aroma up—a mixture of petrol, bakeries, rubbish, and curry. Down below, horns honked, trains rattled, voices rose and fell. The afternoon sun felt good on his face and took in deep breaths and loosed some tension from his shoulders.

“Yeah, it is pretty spectacular, isn’t it,” he agreed.

She took up his palm and wrote, “S-U-N” space “G-L-I-M-M-E-R-S” space “O-F-F” space “B-U-I-L-D-I-N-G-S” space “D-A-Z-Z-L-I-N-G”.

“I can hear the cars honking their horns, the rattling of the train as it moves on the tracks, people’s voices, and some buskers’ songs along with the owls hooting and grumbling behind us,” he told her, the paper rattling next to his lips as he spoke. He heard her grabbing the paper and then stuff it into her pocket.

“Doesn’t the paper disappear?” he asked.

“C-A-T-C-H” space “I-T” space “S-T-A-Y” she explained.

“Nice.”

She went on to write, “I” space“F-E-E-L” space “P-U-L-S-I-N-G” space “C-I-T-Y” space “T-H-R-O-U-G-H” space “S-I-L-L.”

“I can feel it, too.”

“W-H-Y” space “Y-O-U” space “C-L-O-S-E” space “E-Y-E-S?”

“The sun is too bright. It hurts my eyes.”

She shook his hand gently, as if she were excited, “Y-O-U” space “S-E-E?”

“Just bright light, nothing else.”

Her hand stroked the back of his as if she were petting a cat, soothingly.

He shrugged. He realized he was getting used to not seeing.

“Can you hear anything?” He felt it was fair to ask.

She tapped his palm once and then again, twice. He pointed his nose at her and pulled his eyebrows together. 

She took his palm and wrote, “V-E-R-Y” space “L-O-U-D,” and then slammed her hand on the sill, making Harry jump at the sudden sound. 

She tapped once, “No,” and he understood that she couldn’t hear even that loud noise. He nodded in understanding. 

Harry heard the flutter of wings behind him and claws scratching on a wood post and Hedwig’s cooing call behind him.  He was amazed that he could pick out her voice from all the other owls. He turned, wanting to walk over to her, but not sure what was between them in the room. They had walked straight to the window from the doorway without going around anything, but Hedwig was in an area of the room he hadn’t been in before.

“Hedwig’s here,” he said to Gemma. He didn’t fancy running into a poo-smeared post.

She tapped the back of his hand and they walked over to Hedwig. Harry reached out his hand to find her downy warmth and smiled, wanting to bury his face in her feathers. Gemma hung back a little.

“It’s okay, Gemma. She’s gentle,” Harry said suspecting that she was nervous because of Hedwig’s size. He reached for Gemma’s hand and she met his and he guided her hand to Hedwig’s wing.

“Hedwig, this is Gemma. Gemma, this is Hedwig,” he smiled at them both. He remembered the bit of roll and biscuits in his pocket and fished them out to break into small bits for Hedwig. She pecked at his hand, picking them up with her beak. 

I should have saved some of the mincemeat for her, but … ew… that would have made a mess in my pocket. 

After a bit, Hedwig hooted and opened her wings wide. Harry and Gemma stepped back and she flew back to her perch.

“She must want to sleep,” Harry laughed. “We’ve been dismissed.”

Gemma led Harry to the window again and they stood side by side feeling the pulsing city through the reverberations of the window ledge. Harry heard a bell tolling and realized that it must be Big Ben sounding the quarter hour. 

“Can you see Big Ben?” he asked Gemma, wondering what direction they were facing.

She tapped twice on his hand.

“It is tolling now—the quarter hour. We should head back,” he said. She tapped, “yes,” on his hand and he took her arm.

“Bye, Hedwig,” Harry called up to her and heard her growling coo in response. 

They wiped their feet at the door. The door closed behind them, shutting off the sounds of London and the owls along with the pungent odor of the owlery and they were back in the Center with its fragrance of potions. He smelled the pepper-up potion and wondered why it was needed.

“I wonder where your mom is,” Harry asked Gemma, he caught the paper and handed it to her, certain she hadn’t seen it. He felt her shrug in response.

Then he heard Mrs. Boot’s voice coming from behind them, “Gemma! There you are!”

Harry squeezed Gemma’s arm, stopped, and said, “Your mom’s behind us.”

“Where have you been, dear? I’ve been looking for you!” Mrs. Boot closed the gap between them. Harry dropped Gemma’s arm so that she could sign more freely with her mom.

“Hi, Harry! So you took Gemma to visit your owl, Hedwig?” Mrs. Boot addressed him.

“Yes, Mrs. Boot,” Harry answered. “We were also looking for you.”

“Yes, well, Gemma said that. I just went to the ladies’ room. I guess I missed you. And now it is time for me to leave.” Mrs. Boot sounded forlorn.

“Gemma, I’ll let you say goodbye to your mum, and I’ll meet you back in the dining hall, okay?” Harry said as he reached in his pocket for his staff and shook it out.

“Thank you, dear, that’s very kind,” Mrs. Boot answered. “Oh, wait a sec. Gemma wonders why you want to meet in the dining hall. Don’t you need to go back to that classroom? What was it called, Gemma?” 

There was a pause while Gemma signed to her mom,  “Oh, yes. Mont Blanc.”

“Oh, that’s right! Thanks, Gemma!” Harry was glad she remembered.

“You’re sure you can make your way back all right?” Mrs. Boot asked skeptically.

“Yes, it’s not a problem Mrs. Boot.” Harry tried not to sound irritated.

Gemma made a swishing movement across the back of his hand, which he took for a wave.

“See you soon, Gemma, and it was nice to meet you, Mrs. Boot,” Harry said as he started walking away.

“Yes, nice to meet you, too!” 

Harry muttered, “Navigant Mont Blanc classroom,” and made his way down the corridor toward the now stale smell of lunch that hung on the air.

I really need to use the loo, Harry thought. 

He stopped and said “Navigant toilet,” and was relieved that it was close by and on his way to the classroom. It was actually a bit of a dream of a loo—just like the buffet, it was charmed to let him know what things were as his hand hovered near them. Also, as someone who had spent a lot of his childhood cleaning bathrooms, it smelled really clean in a wixen way which was much more pleasant than Aunt Petunia’s toxic chemicals.

His staff was taking him through the dining hall to get to the classroom. He wondered if there was another corridor that went around the dining hall.

When he reached the dining hall, he discovered that the doors were closed and his staff let him know that someone else was in the entrance.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Oh, hi,” said a tremulous female voice.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“Oh, sure,” she hiccuped. “I just can’t figure out how to open these doors. They are super heavy and I think there must be a way to open them with magic.”

“Oh, yes, there’s a panel by the door on the right. Healer Jordan showed me how to use it.” 

“Oh, thank goodness. I pounded on the door earlier and no one seemed to hear me, I’m glad you came along.”

“See, here’s the panel,” Harry said, he had just located it with his hand and was running his fingers over the raised symbols for opening the doors.

“Are you standing away from the door? It will open toward us, I think,” Harry asked before pressing the open symbol.

“Oh, yes, I’ll get out of the way,” she said and that’s when he heard her using a staff and realized that she must also be blind.

“Here, if you come over here. I can show you the panel. He was tapping his staff on the ground so that she could hear his location, and accidentally collapsed it. “Oops,” he laughed at himself.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, I just accidentally collapsed my staff—I was tapping it so you could find me,” he explained as he shook it out again.

“Oh, I did that the other day!” she said, her voice filling with mirth. “Except I was just nervously tapping it.”

She was near him now and he could hear her hand on the wall by the panel.

“I’m still not finding it,” she said.

“Try a little lower. It is at a height so that people who are sitting down can reach it.” 

“Found it. Thanks!” She seemed relieved.

“Why don’t you do the honors?” Harry suggested.

“I’m not sure which buttons open it, do you know? I don’t read braille yet,” she asked.

“Healer Jordan just explained it to me before lunch, but yeah, I don’t read braille yet either. I guess we’re going to learn here. I’m Harry Potter by the way.” 

“Oh, everyone’s been talk… Er. I guess I shouldn’t tell you that. Privacy and everything,” she mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “I’m Aminah Khan.” 

“Yeah. I know. So, Aminah, the button that opens the doors has two triangles pointing away from each other, their flat sides in the middle, to close the doors, press the button that has the triangle points pointing toward each other in the center.” Harry felt like Healer Jordan had explained it more clearly.

“That makes sense. Okay, I’m opening them,” Aminah said and they listened to the doors opening.

Harry heard Aminah walking through and followed a little behind her as she navigated through the dining hall to the doors that led to the classroom on the other side. Harry heard running footsteps behind him and wondered if the little kids were still here from the tour, then as a little hand rested on his arm, recognized Gemma by her scent… something faintly cinnamony.

“Hi, Gemma! That didn’t take long.” 

He called ahead to Aminah who had slowed down when Gemma was running toward them, “Aminah, have met Gemma Boot? She’s in our room, too.” 

“Hi, Gemma,” Aminah greeted.

“Um, Gemma can’t hear or speak, so I’m using a Scribunt loqui charm that writes out what I’m saying so she can read it—it writes it on slips of paper that flutter by your mouth and then disappear, unless you grab them—then you can keep them.”

“I was wondering what that paper sound was—I kept hearing it today,” Aminah said. “How does Gemma communicate with you, then?” 

“She spells words on my palm and if you speak slowly she can read your lips, but I guess that’s pretty hard to do,” Harry explained as Gemma took his hand and started to write: “T-E-A-C-H” space “C-H-A-R-M.”

“Gemma wants me to teach you the charm.” 

“Do we have time? Isn’t it close to the time we’re supposed to be at Mont Blanc?” Aminah asked.

“Oh, right. Gemma, I’ll teach her when we get to the classroom, okay? So we’re not late,” he explained. Gemma tapped twice on his palm, then guided his hand to her elbow so she could guide him. Harry collapsed his staff.

The classroom wasn’t too far beyond the dining hall. Gemma pressed the button that opened the dining hall doors to the corridor.

Harry was feeling a bit nervous as they approached the classroom. He was wondering what their instructors would be like… would they be severe and exacting like Professor McGonagall? Deadly boring like Binns? Energetic and effusive like Professor Flitwick? Earthy and congenial like Professor Sprouts? Ditzy and self-absorbed like Professor Lockhart? Demanding and brooding like Professor Snape?

As they got closer to the classroom, Harry could hear people saying their goodbyes with their families in the corridor.

Gemma stopped and grabbed Harry’s hand and started quickly writing, “A-S-K” space “H-E-R”… There was an urgency in the way that she was spelling into his hand that he didn’t get until he realized that Aminah was getting confused ahead of them with all the people to navigate around. He called out to her: “Aminah, Gemma wants me to ask you if you’d like her to guide you into the classroom since there are a lot of people out here.” 

He turned his face to Gemma, “Is that what you wanted?” 

She tapped his hand twice.

Aminah sounded relieved when she answered, “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

“Gemma, she said yes, please,” Harry said to Gemma, and she let go of his hand and went to Aminah.

Harry took his staff out of his pocket and shook it out and tried to follow them, but there were too many people talking loudly in the corridor and he wasn’t able to track them. The little kids were running around, giggling gleefully and more than once ran into his staff (to which his staff exclaimed loudly, but it didn’t really help him avoid the collision because it happened too quickly). 

He muttered, “Navigant Mont Blanc classroom,” to his staff and found the door eventually.

“Hi Harry,” a voice greeted him from a seated level—Mei at the entrance.

“Hi, Mei. Are you ready for this?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I imagine.” 

“What’s the room set-up? Can you describe it to me?” 

“It’s like it was before—outside in the mountains with a rocky terrain and benches set in a theater seating facing a lake.” 

“Thanks! Are you going to pull up the ramp?” 

“Fortunately, it’s already in place. You’re safe. Here comes your girlfriend.”

Harry felt his face heat up, but he was glad Gemma was back. She tapped his hand and he found her elbow.

“Do you want to sit with us, Mei?” 

“Sure, I’ll follow you.” Mei seemed pleased at the invitation.

Gemma led Harry down the ramp and then their feet were crunching over a sandy landscape that also had little tufts of grass and random rocks that Harry kept slipping on. He could hear Mei struggling behind them.

Gemma had grasped both his elbows and was gently pushing him backward. He was confused until the bench hit the backs of his knees, and he sat down.

“Harry?” Aminah asked from the bench next to him.

“Yes, it’s me.”

Gemma sat next to him and he could hear Mei putting the brakes on her wheelchair on the other side of Gemma. He wondered if Tony was nearby. He didn’t want to say it out loud or have it written by his lips, so he took Gemma’s hand and wrote: “T-O-N-Y?” into her hand. She tapped once, “No.”

“Harry, will you teach me that charm now? It would be really handy to be able to speak with Gemma,” Aminah asked.

“Sure,” Harry responded and they spent the next few minutes working on it while they waited for the next session to begin.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 42: Quidditch adaptations

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 42 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Harry paused for a moment. He had a million questions he wanted to ask Mei: How did you turn into a fish (or a part fish)? Does that make you a mermaid? How are you out of water? Don’t mermaid’s tails transform into legs when they are on land? 

But then he remembered what it was like to have Tony and other people hounding him with questions about what happened to him and how exhausting it was to be an oddity. 

And really lonely. 

He took in a deep breath.

“So you were really good at Quidditch? What position did you play? Were you on a house team?” he asked.

Mei let out a big breath as well, as if she’d been bracing for the onslaught of questions. 

It must be so much worse for her, Harry thought. No wonder she’s such a crab.

He was really relieved he didn’t say that out loud.

It sounded like the dining hall had gone back to normal conversation. Harry was grateful they were no longer the center of attention.

Mei answered in a voice that he almost didn’t recognize… he was so used to her angry pitch. “I was okay,” she started slowly. “I played keeper a lot for Bing and his friends growing up, but I really like being a chaser and seeker isn’t so bad.” 

Harry’s throat was closing. This was a hard conversation.

“You were more than okay, Mei,” her brother encouraged. “You would have been chosen for the team this year had you been able to try out… ”

“Why didn’t you try out?” Harry asked without thinking. “Can’t you still sit on a broom?”

“Ha! See, I told you, Mei!” Bing said.

Harry was confused again.

“Yes, I can sit on a broom still, especially if I can use a modified broom—one with a seat.” Mei’s voice was defiant now. “Hogwarts thought it would give me an unfair advantage over the other players… ”

“What? That’s ridiculous. It would just give you the same advantage the other players have.” Harry flailing his arms in exasperation. “Did you protest?”

“No, I was also not wanting to draw attention to myself. I was getting too much as it was. Also, I need to have breaks to rehydrate. I can’t last a whole Quidditch game without hydrating. If they weren’t willing to permit a seat, then there’s no way they’d allow 20-minute breaks to allow me to rehydrate. It was too much to ask. Also, my Jiāorén magic messes with my wixen magic.”

“It’s not fair,” Bing said, explaining: “That was Gemma. She agrees that it is not fair.”

“Thanks, Bing.” Harry knew that Bing did that for his benefit. “So you were at Hogwarts last year? How did I miss seeing you?” 

“Well, I was there for the first couple of months, then this happened… ” Harry guessed she was motioning to her fish tail. “And I was out for a bit, then I tried to go back after the holidays, but I wasn’t in a good place… ” 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

There was a heavy silence. 

“Mei, she was… ” Bing trailed off.

“I was hurting myself,” she stated.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, well. I’m done with that. So, you really didn’t hear about me?” Mei asked.

“Yeah, well, no. Sorry.” 

How could I miss that a student had come back to school after the holidays with a tail? Hermione had to know, Harry thought.

“What house are you in?” he asked.

“I’m in Ravenclaw, I’ll be a fourth year in the fall.” Mei said. “My mom helped me keep up with the coursework, and so did Bing. He came home every weekend to help me with my work.”

 Harry could hear the affection in her voice, it must be nice to have a sibling you like—who looks out for you.

“Gemma? Will you start as a second year next year?” Harry asked and then sat still as he listened to the pencil scratching on the paper while she wrote out her response.

“She says ‘yes’ as long as she passes the exams for first years over the summer. That’s part of her training here—to prepare for the exams,” Bing related Gemma’s notes to Harry.

“Did you have to take the third year exams at the end of term, Mei?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but they were easy,” she said as a true Ravenclaw.

“Oh, I’m starting to dry out. I have to go hydrate,” Mei said. He could hear her running her hands over her fishtail.

“How close is it to 1 o’clock?” Mei asked.

Harry put his hand in his pocket and said, “Tempus. It is 12:30.” 

Bing got up and turned to Harry, “I’m leaving after we go back to the dormitories and Mei starts hydrating. So, I’ll see you and Gemma later, maybe on the weekend? And definitely on the visiting weekends. It was really nice to meet you both. I’m really glad that Mei has you as roommates.”

Bing was responding to Gemma, “You, too, Gemma. Take care. Thank you for everything.”

Bing clapped Harry on the shoulder as he was leaving the table, startling Harry.

Gemma came over to Harry and laid her hand on his arm.

“What do you want to do now, Gemma?” Harry asked.

She lifted his hand and wrote, “M-Y” space “M-U-M-?” into his palm.

Harry listened carefully, he couldn’t hear her mom anywhere, so he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t hear her. You can’t see her anywhere?”

She tapped once which he understood as “No.”

“We could look for her.” 

He could feel Gemma making a sign and he caught her hands lightly in his to try to make out what it was she was doing. She repeated the sign as he held onto each of her hands. She was holding her fingers cupped toward her and crossing her hands in front of her mouth.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“V-E-R-Y” space “F-U-N-N-Y” she spelled into his hand.

“Oh, ha ha. I get it,” he said smiling.“Where should we start?” 

He turned back to the table to find the plate with the biscuits and tucking the remaining biscuits into his trouser pocket.

She grabbed his hand, still crumbly with biscuits and wrote “W-H-A-T” space “D-O-I-N-G?”

He felt his face flush.  “Er, I’m getting some snacks for Hedwig… Oh, did you want some?” 

She spelled out “W-H-O” space “H-E-D-W-I-G-?” in his hand.

“Oh, she’s my snowy white owl,” Harry said. “Do you want to meet her? She’s in the owlery.” 

She tapped his hand twice, “Yes.” 

“Maybe that’s where your mom is,” he said chuckling and he felt her also laughing silently next to him.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 41: Fish tales

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 41 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Gemma had left his side and he guessed she was hugging Mei from the muffled sound of Mei’s sobs. He stood there holding the plate of biscuits and feeling like a jackass.

“Sorry,” he muttered to Bing.

“No worries, man. It’s messed up. It’s all messed up.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

There was a plinking sound like someone had dropped some beads and a whiff of fish that made Harry wonder if they were having fish for dinner. 

“Did someone break a necklace,” Harry asked.

“Oh, no, I’ll get those.” Bing had gone down on the floor and was picking up the rolling beads.

Harry, feeling a bit useless, fished a biscuit off the plate and ate it. 

Mmm. A chocolate bourbon.

Soon, Mei’s sobs quieted to hiccups. Harry got his staff out his pocket and summoned a clean handkerchief from it without managing to spill the biscuits (he was feeling pretty skilled about that) and offered it to Mei, taking a step toward her wet sounds.

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed as something rolled under his foot and he almost fell, but Bing caught his elbow.

“Oops, missed one,” Bing said.

“Thanks, mate.”

Harry tried again to hand the handkerchief to Mei.

“Cheers,” she replied, sniffling while taking it from him.  

“Want to have some tea with us at our table?” Harry invited.

“Sure, I guess,” said Mei.

“The charm is Scribunt loqui if you’d like Gemma to be able to understand what you’re saying,” Harry suggested. 

Mei huffed.  

“Hey, Mei,” Bing said. “I’ll help you do it.” 

Harry repeated it. After many attempts, Harry heard the tattletale crinkling of paper.  

Gemma had come back over to him as they worked on the charm, her hand on his arm.

Mei hesitantly greeted Gemma and Harry could sense her hands moving in a signed response. He also heard a little bit of paper flapping by Gemma which he hadn’t noticed before.

“Gemma, do you have a charmed bit of paper, too, for your signs?” 

She tapped his arm twice, “yes.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” He felt a bit sad, a little left out and then he shook his head to get rid of the feeling.

She tapped his hand and he took her arm and they made their way to the table. Gemma guided Harry’s hand to the tabletop and he placed the plate on it. Harry felt for his lunch plate, worried that he’d put the biscuits on top of them accidentally, but couldn’t find them. 

“Did someone clear our plates?” Gemma tapped twice on his arm.

Bing was moving a chair away so that Mei had a place at the table next to Gemma, and Harry sat on her other side, and Bing next to him.

Harry had a moment of thankfulness that the spilled pitcher earlier had not been hot tea when he took a sip of the tea that Bing had poured out for him.

He became aware that Mei and Gemma were in an intense conversation from Mei’s responses. It sounded like Gemma was really telling Mei a lot more than he’d ever known her to say. 

Well, probably because our communication is limited to writing in the palm of my hand. It’s hard to get into depth when it is so slow, he thought.

“Bing? Can you tell me what Gemma’s saying?” 

“Sure. She was signing a bit, but I think she’s just learning how to sign, because now she’s actually just writing on a notepad to Mei. That must be faster,” Bing said. 

Bing was leaning around Harry, trying to see what Gemma was writing.

“Hey, Mei, Gemma!” Bing interrupted, “Can you sit so that I can see what you’re writing? I can read it to Harry.” 

He turned to Harry, “Let’s trade seats, then I can see what Gemma’s writing and read it to you.”

“Geez, Bing. Why do you have to make everything so complicated?” Mei whinged.

“Come on, Mei. Don’t be so difficult. Let’s include Harry, too. You know you hate to be left out.” 

She responded with a harumphing sigh. 

Harry was ready to let it go, but he heard Bing stand up, so he pushed back his chair and followed the edge of the table to find Bing’s seat as Bing walked behind him and took his seat. Bing helped sort out their tea and plates. Harry moved his fingertips forward on the tablecloth until he located the saucer of his tea cup, then took a sip and waited. He wondered where Mrs. Boot was.

“Bing, is Mrs. Boot at the table,” Harry asked.

“No, why?” 

“Oh, she just wanted some shortbread. Could you put some on a plate for her?”

“Oh, I think Gemma already did that. There is a plate where she was sitting with the biscuits on it,” Bing replied.

“Oh, okay. That’s good.” 

“Okay, Gemma’s pointing to spot on the page that she wants me to share with you, Harry,” Bing said, his voice directed away from Harry, but loud enough for Harry to hear even over the din of the dining room.

“She was telling Mei about how she was really sick with spattergoit last year and they thought she was going to die, but she pulled through. She missed her first year at Hogwarts because of it. She said at first when she started recovering, she was so out of it that she didn’t realize that she couldn’t hear anymore or speak… all she did was sleep and she barely ate or drank. I guess she lost a lot of weight. When she did finally feel well enough to notice that she couldn’t hear anything at first she was really scared and she tried to hide it from her family. I guess she was afraid that they wouldn’t want her anymore if they knew that she couldn’t hear or talk on top of being disfigured.” 

Mei seemed to be comforting Gemma now. Harry wondered if Gemma knew what Mei had said earlier about her face… if she had read Mei’s lips. He wondered at Gemma’s capacity for forgiveness… What would cross her line?

“But her family figured it out and, of course, they weren’t going to kick her out. She and her family have been learning sign language at home with a private tutor, but she was finally well enough to come to the Center for more diverse training—not just sign language, but also to learn other things such as nonverbal spell casting so that she can go to Hogwarts in September.”

Harry leaned forward, hoping that Gemma could see that he wanted to speak to her and said, “I’m chuffed you’re here now and that you’ll be at Hogwarts in the autumn.”

He was glad to hear more of her story and was curious about Mei’s, but knew how it felt to have people constantly wanting you to recount a dreadful experience. He wondered if this was the time to tell Gemma and Mei about what happened to him.

It might make Gemma not want to go to Hogwarts! A giant serpent roaming the corridors turning students to stone and a mind-controlling diary that almost stole a first-year’s soul.

He thought about Hermione—of all people—lying to her parents about what happened because she was afraid they wouldn’t let her return. He wondered what she told them about what happened their first year when Professor Quirrell taught the whole year with Voldemort living in the back of his head.

He decided to wait.

Harry nibbled on another biscuit, a shortbread. He slipped one in his pocket for later, for Hedwig. He had put a piece of roll in there, too, earlier.

“Looks like you’ve got quite the stash of food in your pocket, Potter,” Bing teased.

“Oh, er.” Harry felt his face grow hot. “It’s for my owl, Hedwig.” 

“Yeah, right,” Bing laughed.

“Do you go to Hogwarts, Bing?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be a sixth year. I’m in Hufflepuff.” 

“Do you play Quidditch?”

“Yeah, but I’m not on the team. But I saw you play. You’re really good,” Bing said enthusiastically, but then uttered a heavy, “Oh,” and got quiet.

“Yeah,” Harry said, addressing the unsaid thing. “It sucks.” 

He kicked himself for bringing up Quidditch at all.

Mei and Gemma were quiet, too.

“Mei, too,” Bing said heavily. “She was really good at Quidditch before… ”

“I turned into a fish… ” Mei angrily interjected.

That surprised Harry. “Wait—What?” 

“Oh, come on! No one told you?” Mei hissed. “That prissy, frizzy-haired know-it-all didn’t tell you that I have a fishtail? I can’t believe that after the looks she gave me when I accidentally dumped you in the sand. I didn’t know that would happen. No one told me!” 

Harry noticed that the rest of the dining hall seemed to be quiet as if everyone was listening to Mei ranting.

“No… no one told me,” Harry said.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 40: Doused in water and tears

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 40 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

Harry was pretty sure it was the best Shepherd’s pie he had ever tasted. The mincemeat and mash had more flavoring than Aunt Petunia used in her recipe and they had included generous helpings of small cooked vegetables that were firm, not soggy. It was both comforting and surprisingly flavorful. 

Though he was in the habit of woofing down his food as fast as he could, he tried to go slowly and savor it. He was glad he took a small scoop because it didn’t take long before he felt full. He used his knife to help corner his peas and get them on his spoon and worked on keeping the spoon level as he moved it to his mouth. Most of the time, there were peas on the spoon—if only a few. A couple times he was surprised to put his mouth around an empty spoon and hoped that no one had noticed. Everyone at the table seemed to be focused their own meals. 

He was pretty sure it was Tony across the table from them. He was quiet though, giving short, almost angry responses to the man sitting next to Harry who was asking him about his food. 

Then he hissed angrily, “Dad! It’s dripping down my chin. Wipe my chin off, would you? Hurry up!” and Harry was certain that it was Tony. With a jolt, it occurred to Harry that Tony’s dad must be feeding him. No wonder he didn’t want to eat in front of everyone. He wondered why his dad would be feeding him. When Harry had spoken to Tony earlier, it sounded like Tony was getting around just fine on his two feet, no sounds of crutches and he was standing, not sitting in a wheelchair like Mei. 

It dawned on him that he had paused mid-bite and that if Tony was watching him, he’d know that Harry had been listening, so he quickly took the bite and continued eating. His challenges suddenly didn’t seem so hard. If Tony needed help eating, then he probably needed help doing other more private things and the thought of relying on other people for those things was mortifying. 

Not that that gives him an excuse for being a blood-status snot, though, Harry grumbled.

Harry noticed that Gemma had stopped making noises next to him—her fork was no longer scraping against the plate. He put down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth on his napkin. He was thirsty but hadn’t noticed any beverages when they went through the buffet line and hadn’t thought to ask. 

“Gemma?” he asked, uncertain if she would see the paper slip. 

She tapped his hand twice that he had resting on the table between them. 

“Is there water or something to drink on the table?”

She tapped his hand twice again and then she was reaching across him. She grabbed his hand a bit roughly and turned his palm up. It took him a moment to understand her frustration when she wrote into his hand, “C-A-N-’T” space “R-E-A-C-H” space “Y-O-U” space “A-S-K”.

Harry listened for a moment to see if this was a good time to interrupt Tony and his dad. 

When would be a good time? he wondered.

It seemed as though they might be done eating, too. So Harry turned toward Mr. Montague and cleared his throat. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Montague?” he tried politely. 

“Yes?” was his impatient reply. 

“Could you please pass me the water?” Harry asked. 

“Sure,” he said. 

Harry waited patiently. 

Then Tony interjected, “Dad, he’s blind. You have to tell him that you’re holding it in front of him.”

Harry felt his face grow hot and reached forward tentatively as Mr. Montague mumbled, “Oh, sorry. It’s here.” 

Harry’s hands found a pitcher of water and he put his hands around it, but it was slippery with condensed water and it dropped suddenly in his hands as Mr. Montague let go. Cold water splashed all over his front and lap and the pitcher shattered on the floor as Harry scooted his chair back quickly and yelped. 

“Oh, sorry, son, I thought you had it,” Mr. Montague seemed genuinely apologetic, which caught Harry off guard. He’d been expecting something of a Lucius Malfoy. 

Mrs. Boot and Mrs. Montague (Harry pieced together that Mrs. Boot had been deep in conversation with Mrs. Montague during the whole meal) came rushing over by the sound of it. Several people were pressing napkins onto Harry’s lap, which he found rather alarming, and he shouted in desperation, “Stop! Can’t someone perform a drying charm?” 

Mrs. Boot stopped and exclaimed, “Oh, my! I was just trying to help,” to which Harry responded with an exasperated, “Sorry, it was just rather, well… uncomfortable… ” He didn’t know what else to say.

Mr. Montague said, “Calidum siccum” and Harry felt instant relief and warmth. He realized that Gemma’s hand was on his shoulder—she released it. 

“Thank you, Mr. Montague,” Harry said, relieved. He heard someone cast a repairing charm on the shattered pitcher and place it back on the table.

“I’m so sorry about that… ” Mr. Montague began, but then paused awkwardly and Harry realized that Mr. Montague didn’t know his name. 

“I’m Harry Potter,” he said as he stuck out his hand, which Mr. Montague took after a moment and shook heartily. He was a bigger man than he was expecting from his gentle voice. He heard Mrs. Boot and Mrs. Montague return to their conversation and sit back down in their seats. 

“You mean… the Harry Potter?” he asked. Behind him, Tony was groaning. 

Harry blushed again. 

“Er. I guess so,” he said reluctantly. He was surprised that someone with a Slytherin son would ask with so much awe in his voice and he felt uncomfortable. 

Maybe they are from different houses?

He cast around for another topic. 

“Water. Is there any more water? I am awfully thirsty.” 

“Sure, but this time I won’t dump it in your lap,” Mr. Montague said with a laugh. “Aguamenti!” There was the satisfying sound of the glass filling magically with water. Harry followed the sound with his fingers and wrapped them around the glass. He drank nearly half the glass in one gulp and set down the glass. 

“May I ask you why there’s a slip of paper that writes out your words by your mouth as you speak?” 

“Sure, that’s so Gemma can understand what I’m saying,” Harry said. He reached for Gemma and found her hand. 

He turned to her and said, “Gemma, this is Mr. Montague, Tony’s dad. Do you know Tony?” 

She tapped twice on his arm. “Mr. Montague, this is Gemma Boot,” he said, turning to Mr. Montague. He could feel Mr. Montague reaching across him and Gemma reaching to shake his hand. 

He felt very adult making these introductions. He had the fleeting thought that his Aunt Petunia would be proud. And then remembered what she was really like. 

She’s never proud of me, he thought.

There was an uncomfortable silence, then Mr. Montague asked, “What’s the spell you use to make your words show up while you speak?”

“Oh, it’s ‘Scribunt loqui,’” Harry explained and Mr. Montague cast it. Harry guessed he was successful right off that bat because he could hear the paper fluttering. 

“Tony, do you want to try it?” Mr. Montague asked. 

“Dad, you know I can’t!” Tony said. 

“Oh, true! And that’s why you’re here, right? So that you can learn how to cast spells again.”

Tony’s chair screeched and then clattered loudly on the floor as he stormed off. 

“Sorry about that,” Mr. Montague muttered and then Harry gathered that he had also left the table, most likely running after Tony. 

Mrs. Montague stopped talking with Mrs. Boot to ask, “What’s going on?” 

Harry figured he was the only one who could answer, so he attempted, “I guess Tony was upset and he left and Mr. Montague went after him?” 

He felt like it was a poor explanation, but he heard her get up, too, explaining to Mrs. Boot that she’d better go and see if there was anything she could do. 

Harry gulped some more water. Gemma took his hand and wrote, “W-A-N-T” space “B-I-S-C-U-I-T-S?”

Harry perked up, “Yes!” His enthusiasm must have made the paper flutter more because he felt it flap against his lips and he laughed. 

She tugged at his hand and he stood up, shaking out his staff and finding her arm. He could feel her hands moving as she signed. 

“Okay, dear. Bring me back a couple shortbreads, would you?” Gemma’s mum asked. 

Gemma led Harry in the direction where the buffet table was located, but Harry couldn’t smell the food anymore, so he suspected that it had been cleared while they ate. 

He could hear Mei’s voice as they approached the area, decrying the lack of custard creams from the selection. 

He sighed and hung back a little. Gemma tugged her arm, urging him on. 

She reached for something and then pressed a plate into his hand, which he dutifully held, collapsing his staff first and tucking it in his pocket. He could feel her placing some biscuits on it and he tried to hold it steady, knowing from experience that they could slide off a plate very easily. He wondered what kind she was picking out and was tempted to feel them, but thought that might gross out Gemma so he waited patiently. 

“Bing, get that Florentine for me —I can’t reach it,” Mei said.  

“Oh, hi, Harry. It’s me, Bing,” Bing said. 

“Hi Bing. This is my friend, Gemma Boot,” Harry said, introducing Bing to Gemma. He could feel Gemma reaching to shake Bing’s hand. 

“Bing!” Mei demanded. 

“Mei, have you met Harry Potter and Gemma Boot?” Bing asked. Harry felt as though he were in a film featuring a dull dinner party and fully expected Bing to blow a mouthful of smoke at him. It was weirdly formal. 

“Well, we’re roommates aren’t we?” she said. 

“Yeah, I suppose.” 

“Gemma, is there tea, too?” Harry asked. He felt as though he had caught a whiff of it as they crossed the room. She tapped twice on his arm in response, but maybe Bing didn’t catch that, because he answered, “Yes, there’s tea at the tables.”

“Okay, thanks,” answered Harry. 

“What’s that paper by your mouth?” Bing asked. 

“That’s the Scribunt loqui charm so that Gemma can understand what I’m saying,” Harry explained. 

“Why… ?” Bing started to ask and then stopped himself. 

“She’s deaf, you dofus,” Mei interjected, “Obviously she had spattergroit. Look at her face. She’s not still contagious, is she?” 

Harry stepped forward trying to shield Gemma from Mei’s words. “Why are you so mean?” he blurted out and then was shocked when Mei burst into tears. 

Oh, great.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 39: Shepherd’s pie

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 39 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

That would be nice, he thought, as he dug into the Shepherd’s pie—blissful as the savory warmth filled his mouth.

“Gemma, Healer Jordan taught me the Scribunt loqui spell!” As soon as he said it, Harry wanted to kick himself.  

Obviously, you dork, she can see it.

“I wanted to answer your question from before,” he rushed on as warmth crept up his neck. 

Gemma squeezed his arm.

“You asked about my sister and dad earlier?” he asked, “They are friends, not my family. My friend Hermione and her dad, Dr. Granger. Dr. Granger is a Dentist and he had to go to work, so they weren’t able to stay.”

Gemma took his hand and spelled, “D-A-D?” space “M-U-G-G-L-E?”.

Harry was a bit taken back by this and it must have shown on his face. She hastily wrote, “M-I-N-E” space “T-O-O.”

“Oh, yes. Hermione is muggle-born, too.” Harry was relieved.

As Gemma was explaining “M-U-M” space “W-I-T-… ,” on his palm, someone across the table snorted. Harry reflexively looked toward the noise. He felt Gemma pause as she was writing and then finish with “C-H.” He decided to ignore the snort.

“Oh, I was raised by Muggles, but my parents were wixen,” Harry explained.

“W-E-R-E? W-I-X-E-N?” Gemma asked.

“Yes, they died. And wixen means Witch or Wizard or both,” Harry answered.

Gemma squeezed his arm. “W-H-Y” space “Y-O-U-R” space “F-A-M-I-L-Y” space “N-O-T” space “C-O-M-E?”

Harry deflated a bit and Gemma squeezed his arm. Someone across the table was muttering something that Harry was trying hard to ignore. He wished he knew who was sitting across from them and also wished that they weren’t listening in on their conversation.

He sighed.

“My aunt, uncle, and cousin weren’t able to come,” he said as quietly as he could, not really wanting to get into it with strangers eavesdropping.

Apparently, Mrs. Boot was also actively following the conversation, because she leaned over Gemma and patted his knee (knocking Gemma against him in the process—he realized that Gemma was even more petite than he had originally guessed) and said, “Well, dear, that’s too bad. It’s good that Gemma took you under her wing. She’s always collecting waifs.” 

Harry heard Gemma blow out an exasperated breath. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Gemmie—you are. You have a heart of gold.” Mrs. Boot’s voice sounded a bit weepy and Gemma leaned away from Harry. He thought she might be hugging her mom.

Harry took issue with being described as a waif. Though, now that he thought about it, he probably was looking pretty waifish—in Dudley’s baggy hand-me-downs, bruises on his face, who knows what his hair looked like (he resisted the urge to try to flatten it), and then there was the weight he lost during the month with the Dursleys. 

I sure wish lunch would be served. I’m so hungry. 

He actually felt a little lightheaded. 

It’s good I nibbled on that sandwich with Hedwig.

“I wonder when lunch will be served,” Harry said to Gemma. He kept feeling the table to see if platters of food had magically appeared as they did at Hogwarts, even though he knew he’d smell it and hear it first.

She tapped his arm with her fingers.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“F-O-O-D” space “H-E-R-E,” she spelled into his palm.

“Where is it?” He felt the table with his free hand, reaching out farther to see if he had missed anything and felt the vase that Hermione had described in the center of the table, but no silverware or platters.

“B-U-F-F-E-T” 

Oh, well that sounds like a train-wreck waiting to happen.

“Where is it? I can’t hear it or smell it.” The food aromas were the same as when they entered the dining hall. He started sniffing the air around him and then stopped abruptly as the person across the table from him broke out into guffaws of laughter. He felt the table shake and marveled that they thought it was so funny. 

Glad I can provide some entertainment.

“F-L-O-A-T-I-N-G” space “T-R-A-Y-S” space “C-O-M-E,” she pulled at his arm, urging him to stand up.

Harry grimaced. Floating trays sounded like a disaster. Would his staff warn him in time before he ran into someone’s floating tray?

Mrs. Boot, who had been thankfully engaged in a conversation with someone on her other side, now seemed to notice that Gemma and Harry were getting up.

“Oh, is it our turn to get our food?” she asked. “It smells divine!”

While Harry took Gemma’s left arm with his right, which took a bit of rearranging as he had been sitting on her right, her mother had gone on ahead of them. Gemma had learned a lot in the short amount of time that she’d guided him before and he felt more comfortable, even though she was so much shorter than he was and his hand was nearly up to her armpit. He realized that she was about the size of Ginny, maybe a little smaller and wondered if she was also a first year. He saved that question for later, though, she wouldn’t be able to answer while they were walking. He wasn’t even certain she’d see the slip of paper since he was a step behind her.

There was a moment where she pulled him quickly to her side, shoring up the distance between them and he felt something graze by his forehead at the same time that his staff warned him of the danger. 

A floating tray. Only wixen would think of such a thing. What’s wrong with having food magically appear on the table? That seemed like a reasonable use of magic.

“Thank you, Gemma!” Harry said, hoping she saw the slip of paper hovering by his mouth. He was tempted to grab it and hand it to her to be sure.

She laid her other hand on his, letting him know that she’d seen it.

Her mother was talking to them from a distance. As they approached, Harry could make out some of what she was saying, but other people were talking, too. It sounded like she was reading food labels from the buffet to them. 

I’m impressed that Gemma knew how to spell buffet. 

Harry didn’t care what the food was—he just wanted something to eat.

“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Boot pushed something thin and hard across his chest and he let go of Gemma’s arm to figure out what it was, his other hand was holding his staff. 

Oh! The tray.

“Thanks?” 

“No problem, dear.” 

He held onto the tray, and tapped his staff three times on the floor to collapse it and put it in his pocket. Gemma didn’t leave his side and he was glad. And then he realized they were standing in a line. He could hear people ahead of them handling china and the clang of metal against metal. 

The aroma of food was almost more than he could take. He found himself drumming on the tray with his fingers trying to distract himself. The tray was kind of floating at chest level though he was holding onto it. He switched hands so that he could hold onto Gemma’s arm again. He didn’t want to let the tray go. 

Where would it end up? I’ll never eat, he thought.

Behind him, he could hear Mei approaching with her mother. 

Ahead of him, Harry could also hear Tony arguing with a parent. Harry caught a bit of what Tony was saying in a low hiss that was still audible, “… don’t want to eat out here where everyone can see me… ” and he felt a slight pang of empathy, which he quickly dismissed. 

He wondered if it had been Tony who’d been snorting at their conversation about muggles. 

Gemma moved forward and Harry followed.

Mei was a couple people behind them in the line. She was continuing to complain about the food. Harry tried to block her out. 

It must be nice to be able to turn up your nose at free food, he thought. 

As they got closer to the food, he began to wonder how he was going to tell what there was to eat. He could ask Gemma, but they’d stall the line with that process. He could imagine having to listen to Mei behind them complaining loudly about how long they were taking. He could ask Mrs. Boot for help, but cringed at the thought. She seemed a bit oblivious anyway.

It sounded like the family with children was getting their food now. He listened carefully to a mother who was patiently trying to coax a small child to take a spoonful of peas on their plate. 

Mmm. I love peas. Dang! How am I going to eat peas? he thought.

The rhyme “I eat my peas with honey, I’ve done it all my life. They do taste kind of funny, but it keeps them on my knife,” ran through his head. He chuckled to himself as he thought about actually employing that method. Gemma touched the back of his hand on her arm and drew a question mark.

“I was just thinking about how I’m going to eat peas,” he explained as the charmed paper flapped by his mouth. She drew another question mark on the back of his hand.

“It’s just really hard to get small things that roll to your mouth when you can’t see them. I’m just learning. I’m sure I’ll get better at it,” he reassured himself as much as Gemma. “Can you see what the food is?”

He felt Gemma straining to see around people, leaning one way, then another, and then getting up on her tiptoes. She took his hand and turned it face up, then started tracing letters in his palm, “S-H-E-P-H-E-R-D--P-I-E” space “P-E-A-S” space “C-A-R-R-O-T-S” space “S-A-L-A-D” space “F-R-U-I-T--S-A-L-A-D” space “R-O-L-L-S” space “S-O-U-P.” 

“Thank you! Can you see what kind of soup?” Harry asked. She was up on her tiptoes again and then she dropped his hand and seemed to be getting the attention of her mother.

“What’s that, Gemmie? Oh, the name of the soup? Lemme see, oh, yes, it’s Minestrone,” Mrs. Boot answered. Harry wondered how Gemma was communicating with her mom. It seemed faster than how she and Harry were talking. Maybe with sign language? Harry remembered a couple students at his primary school using signs—they also had hearing aids. He wondered if the wixen community had anything similar.  

They were finally nearing the food. Harry heard Mrs. Boot put her tray on something metal and start sliding it. She was giving a running commentary about the food—so Harry was feeling more comfortable about what he was about to encounter.

Gemma moved forward and Harry heard her put her tray on the metal sideboard. He dropped her arm and moved to her other side. She reached across him and he heard a plate land on her tray—a bit loudly and he winced. She put her hand on his left arm and helped him find the sideboard. The floating tray seemed to stick to the sideboard—that was handy. Gemma took his hand and guided it toward the plates. He placed one on his tray. She took his hand and wrote: “S-O-U-P?” He shook his head. 

“Soup seems like it would be a mess and take forever to eat. I’ll wait.”

She guided his hand to something and his aftí spoke in his ear, surprising him, “Forks,” it said.  He pulled out one and put it on his tray.

“Gemma, my aftí is speaking to me.” He touched his ear where the aftí was attached to his ear helix. 

“This must be a charmed buffet. It’s telling me where things are.” 

Gemma tapped his arm twice to let him know that she understood and let him find the rest of the silverware on his own.

She moved down the buffet, he followed by keeping his shoulder brushing against hers. He could feel her reaching and then hear her placing food on her plate.

He was so hungry, but he knew from previous experience that overeating would make him sick. He had to pace himself. He could put some rolls in his pockets and save them for later, maybe go share them with Hedwig in the owlery when he had a chance.

He tentatively stuck his hand forward and his aftí said, “Shepherd’s pie, serving spoon to your right.” He found it without sticking his fingers in the Shepherd’s pie, which he considered a victory and put a small scoop on his plate.

Harry proceeded down the buffet and even felt brave enough to try a small scoop of peas. He had to remember where he’d placed things on his plate and felt as though he’d done a pretty good job. He resisted the urge to start nibbling on the food while he was in the line. His legs were weak and his hands trembling as they reached the end of the line. Gemma guided his hand to her arm and handed him his floating tray to hold lightly as they made their way back to their table. Her mother was deep in conversation with the person in front of her. They were talking about the best place to buy robes for school and seemed oblivious to anything around them and in fact, stayed a few feet away from the buffet debating whether Madam Malkins was better than Twilfitt and Tattings.

Gemma deftly guided Harry and his floating tray (and he imagined, her own) back to their table. There they unloaded their trays at their place settings and the trays floated away. Harry hoped that he didn’t need to do anything except let it go, because that’s what he did with Gemma’s nonverbal urging.

He had been careful to set down his plate so that he knew what was where. He was really hoping he wouldn’t make a mess of his first meal in front of Gemma. He realized that he had managed to block Mei’s complaints successfully during the whole process. He wondered if he actually had, or if she had finally stopped moaning.

[wntw-virtuemoir-edition]

[runawaymarbles]

It’s just that masks are so terribly comfortable, I expect everyone will be wearing them in the future

[midnightblue93love]

Only covid post worth reblogging

[jeanjauthor]

“ It’s just that masks are so terribly comfortable, I expect everyone will be wearing them in the future “

--IF ONLY!!!

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 38: Speaking with Gemma

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 38 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

As Harry neared the dining hall, he wondered if the big doors would be open or closed. It had seemed like Healer Jordan had used magic to open them earlier, but he hadn’t heard her say a spell. Was there a panel like in the O&M room that was charmed to open and close the doors—kind of like a muggle elevator?

He imagined he could ask his staff to locate things like that if he knew what to ask it. 

He reached the doors and his staff informed him that he’d reached his destination. He felt the area with his staff and discovered that the doors were open. 

That’s a relief. I’ll have to ask Healer Jordan about them later. 

It gave him an idea and he said, “Navigant Healer Jordan.” 

His staff was silent.

“Navigant group of people,” worked though, and soon he was at the edge of the group of family and residents waiting for Healer Jordan. He was glad he had a chance to nibble on a sandwich with Hedwig because the food aromas in the dining hall were making him salivate.

He heard someone approaching him and again felt a small hand on his arm. He turned his face toward them.

“Hi, Gemma,” he said. 

He was pretty sure it was Gemma. 

She lifted up his arm, and gently coaxed him to turn it palm up, then her finger was tracing something on his palm. He furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to figure out what she was doing. Then it hit him, she’s spelling, “Hi.” Gemma had spelled H—I into his palm.

He smiled and she squeezed his hand warmly. Then his smile faltered. Could she understand him when he spoke? He cast around for something to ask her. Well, he had a million things he wanted to ask, but they were too complicated, he needed something simple.

She was spelling into his hand again and he had to focus to understand what she was writing.

“W-H-A-T ?,” she waited a few seconds between each letter. It took him a bit to get the last one, the question mark. He mouthed each letter as she wrote it and a gentle squeeze from her left hand supporting his let him know that she understood when he got the letter.

So he tried just saying, “I don’t know if you can understand me when I speak.” He could hear the people around him getting quiet and wondered how much of an audience they had. He felt his ears getting hot. He was tempted to drop it and walk away, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She was being really brave approaching him when she didn’t know if she’d be able to communicate with him.

She didn’t squeeze his hand, so he guessed she didn’t understand. He wondered if he should take her hand and try spelling into it, but then she was writing on his hand again.

She wrote, “S-L-O-W-E-R.”

So he tried again, he figured he didn’t really need to voice what he was saying as long as his lips were making the motions, so he tried slower, but barely breathing the words so they were very quiet. This time he phrased it as a shorter question, “Can you understand me?”

She squeezed his hand. He breathed and the corners of his lips lifted in a small smile. 

That’s a relief. 

She wrote two dots and a curved line that, for a second he didn’t get, and then he smiled in response. A smiley face.

More people were gathering around them. And then Gemma’s mom was there and with her the flapping paper noise again. 

He puzzled at that, Why did it always sound like she was waving a piece of paper around?

“Gemma, dear. There you are. Always running off. Oh, trying to talk with… what’s your name, dear?” After a moment Harry realized that she had directed the last question to him.

“Harry. Harry Potter, Ma’am,” he replied.

“Oh, Is that right? Well, they said you were here. Hmmm.” She was quiet and Harry had the distinct impression she was staring at him. He resisted the temptation to flatten his bangs over his scar.

“Gemma, Healer Jordan’s here and you can ask her your questions now. Come on, let’s get closer, okay?” Mrs. Boot had turned her attention back to her daughter and Harry felt Gemma’s hand being pulled away from his. 

But then she pulled on his hand as if wanting him to follow. He pulled his hand out of hers, then traced it lightly to above her elbow and waited for her to go. She held still for a second, then started following her mother’s footsteps. Harry held his staff in his left hand out a little, not sure if Gemma would understand how to guide him around obstacles. At first, his staff ran into some things (people’s shoes, by the sounds of surprise as he passed), but then she adjusted to allow more room for him.

Harry figured that they were closer to the doors leading to the classroom spaces now. Gemma stopped and grasped his hand and started pulling down on his arm. He resisted, not knowing that’s what she was doing. 

“What?” he asked, angling his face with the hope that his lips were visible to her. 

She stopped pulling and turned his palm face up again and wrote, “C-H-A-I-R.” 

Oh! 

Harry reached out and found the back of the chair directly in front of him, and sat down it while Gemma settled into the one next to his. She took his hand palm up again on her knee and wrote, “W-H-E-R-E,” space, “S-I-S-T-E-R,” space, “D-A-D?” He was confused. How was he supposed to know where her sister and dad were? He shrugged his shoulders. She wrote, “Y-O-U-R,” space, “S-I-S-T-E-R,” space, “D-A-D” and then she tapped a finger on his chest for emphasis.

Oh! She means Hermione and Dr. Granger. 

He started to explain, “They aren’t my… ” but then Healer Jordan started addressing the group in her amplified voice, asking if there were questions and Harry stopped.

Gemma shook his hand impatiently, so Harry pointed in the direction of Healer Jordan’s voice. On her other side, Mrs. Boot said, “Hush dear, Healer Jordan’s speaking.” The paper sound fluttered around her again.

Harry wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or Gemma, though it struck him as odd that she’d hush Gemma, who hadn’t uttered a sound as far as he could tell.

He wondered how Gemma was understanding what Healer Jordan was saying.

A lot of the questions were about things that Healer Jordan had already addressed on the tour, but she patiently explained them again. One of the parents asked why they had male and female residents sharing rooms and Healer Jordan explained the importance of community and also went over the guidelines again about proper conduct and the Center’s expectations for how residents would behave and respect each other. She also stated that there would be consequences if the guidelines were not followed.

Harry could hear a quill scratching on paper on Gemma’s other side and thought that Mrs. Boot must be taking notes, but then he realized that she was writing messages to Gemma. Was she translating for her? He decided it was too sporadic for that.

Harry hoped that someone would ask how to open the big doors to the dining hall. He also wanted to ask about a muggle phone, but thought he’d better ask that one in private. Finally he raised his hand. 

“Yes, Harry?” Healer Jordan said. He was glad she used his name, as he had heard her responding to other people without their names, and wondered how he’d know she was calling on him.

“I was wondering how do you open the doors to the dining hall and the library?” As he said it, he realized it sounded silly. Someone a few seats behind him snorted loudly.

Healer Jordan answered with no judgment in her voice, “Great question, Harry. The dining hall doors will be open at meal times and if you need to enter the space outside of that time, there is a panel located either side of the door, at the right as you’re facing the door, with braille markers indicating what the buttons do. I’m happy to show you when we’re done here.” 

There were a few more questions. Harry wondered if Gemma was going to ask hers, but if she had, he couldn’t tell.

Healer Jordan invited them to enjoy the lunch and told them that they would have free time until one o’clock to rest and get settled and say goodbye to their families, and then the residents would meet their instructors in the first classroom, called ‘Mont Blanc,’ that they had visited.

Healer Jordan came over to Harry after she was done, “Hi Harry, it’s Healer Jordan. Is this a good time to check out the panels for opening the doors to the dining room?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” 

“Yes, Gemma, I’ll bring him back here. We’ll just be a moment,” Healer Jordan said. 

He could hear some paper fluttering near Healer Jordan now. He was beginning to wonder if it had something to do with communicating with Gemma. Healer Jordan had tapped the back of his hand with hers, and he grasped her arm above the elbow and noticed that she seemed to be making movements with her hands. 

Sign language!

“I noticed that you and Gemma have figured out a way to overcome your language barriers.”

“Er, yes,” Harry said, though he felt as though their attempts were pretty cumbersome and awkward. “Um, what is that paper noise that I heard when you and her mom were talking to her?” They walked through the dining hall, toward the entrance.

“Oh, that’s a handy little charm that writes out what you’re saying on a slip of paper. Gemma’s using it now because she’s still learning BSL,” Healer Jordan explained.

“What’s BSL?” 

“Oh, right. British Sign Language. We’re here at the entrance. I’m going to take us through so that we’re approaching the door as you would if you were coming from the reception area, okay?”

Harry nodded.

“So, if you’re using your staff to help you find your way, you can ask it to ‘Navigant door panel.’ And that should work on any entrance that has a magical panel for controlling the door as well as muggle elevators or other similar devices. This one is set in the alcove of the entrance on the right-hand side, about one meter from the ground and about two meters from the door.”

“Oh, why is it so low?” Harry wondered, imagining little children wreaking havoc with it.

“So anyone can reach it, even if they are using a wheelchair.” 

“Oh, right.” 

Healer Jordan took Harry’s hand off her arm and guided it toward the panel. “Here is the panel, and here is the open button, there are two arrows embossed on the surface that are pointing away from each other, can you feel that?” 

“Oh, yes.” He moved his hand over the button, and then found another button that had the two arrows facing each other. 

“And this one is the close button?” 

“Yes, that’s right. Similar panels are on all the entrances with heavy doors throughout the Center.” 

She had tapped his hand to indicate that she was ready to guide him back into the dining hall.

“Could you teach me the charm for writing my words so that I can speak to Gemma more easily?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yes. It is ‘Scribunt loqui.’ Why don’t you try it?” she said, guiding Harry to the side of the walkway through the dining hall.

He held his staff and said the words, but muddled them the first few times. Healer Jordan helped him get the pronunciation and finally, he heard a little piece of paper fluttering near his lips. He reached for it, and felt it flit across his fingers for a second before it disappeared.

“Where did it go?” he asked. Then he heard it again, and this time it lingered longer before it vanished.

“It doesn’t stay long,” Healer Jordan explained. “So you need to know that the person you’re talking to has seen it, which will be a bit of a challenge for you.”

“When you’re done, you say ‘Finite scribunt loqui’. There are other methods for communicating between people who are deaf and blind that you’ll be learning about in the coming weeks. I’m sure you and Gemma will find a system that works well for you.” Healer Jordan started walking back to the table.

“Okay, here’s your chair, Harry. Enjoy your lunch,” she said as she walked away, already being addressed by someone else who had approached her with a question.

He sat down in the chair once he figured out that it was now facing the table and he felt Gemma’s small hand on his arm again.

“Hi, Gemma,” he said and she squeezed his arm when the paper fluttered by his lips.

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 37: The owlery

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 37 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

He left a big chunk of the sandwich with her and said, “Navigant dining hall,” pausing only to scrape the owl droppings from his feet.

For a second, Harry was missing his little room at Privet Drive and the moments of being completely alone there—then he shook his head. 

That’s ridiculous! 

I just feel weird here because everyone can see me and I can’t see them. Well, actually, I don’t know if everyone can see me. Just assume that they are not staring at you, Harry. They are busy getting settled. They don’t care about you.

He used his staff to map out his area, figuring out the distances between his bed, wardrobe, and desk—touching each surface to gain an understanding of them. They were all wood—carved, not particle board like a lot of the flimsy furniture the Dursleys put in his room. The linens on the bed reminded him of the linens at Hogwarts—clean and stiff. He thought about unpacking his staff, but decided to do that later. He did unpack his book bag and put everything into his staff. Now that he was in a magical environment, he didn’t need to worry about using it in front of muggles. 

He knew he was supposed to be getting to know his roommates, but he really wanted to get to the owlery. 

Besides, I already have met most of them. Just one… what was her name? It started with an ‘A’. I’m going to have plenty of time to get to know them later.

He sat on his bed for a moment as he debated about whether or not to head to the owlery. As he struggled internally, he listened to his roommates, trying to figure out who was where and what they were doing. He was listening to the girl on the other side of the room whose name he couldn’t remember, talking to someone in a low voice.

“Why are you staring at me?” Mei asked. 

“What?” 

“Quit staring at me,” she insisted. 

“I’m not staring. I can’t see. I’m not looking at anything.” Harry felt heat rising in his neck. 

“Right. Likely story.” 

“Mei,” her mother pleaded. “Hush. Leave him alone. He really is blind. Remember, Tony was telling you.”

“Yeah, Tony also said that he’s ‘The Boy Who Lived,’ and you know that’s a lie.” 

Harry stood up and said, “Navigant owlery.” He walked swiftly to the door and out into the corridor. He had a feeling he’d be spending very little time in his room during the next month. 

oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo

As Harry made his way back down the corridors that they had traveled through on the tour toward the owlery, he wondered if he should try to find Mr. Burbage first or just go to the owlery on his own. He finally decided to try to find Mr. Burbage in the reception area and told his staff as much. 

His staff took him directly to the reception desk. There was a steady and very loud clacking noise that put Harry in mind of an old fashioned typewriter, but not quite. “Mr. Burbage?” Harry asked and the noise stopped.

“Yes?” Mr. Burbage responded. 

“It’s Harry. I was wondering if we could go visit the owlery now?” 

“Oh, sure. Let me just tell Healer Jordan where I’ll be,” Godric got up and Harry heard the tapping of his staff and then a door open and close. Harry’s mind was on Hedwig and a litany rang through his head: Let her be okay, please be here, let her be okay… 

Mr. Burbage came back through the door. 

“Harry?” he asked. 

“Yes, I’m over here.” 

“We can head over to the owlery now,” Godric stated as he walked back toward the reception desk. 

“Um, should I just follow you or should I cast the navigation spell to the owlery?” Harry asked.

“That’s a good question, Harry. You know the adage ‘the blind leading the blind?’ right? We get to do a bit of that today. We’ll use the sighted guide technique that I think Healer Jordan taught you, except for the sighted part.” He chuckled at his little joke as he came around the desk to stand next to Harry. 

Harry groaned, giving into the bad humor. 

“Actually, some people are starting to call it ‘human guide’ and I think I actually prefer that,” Godric said with gravitas.

Harry made an agreeing noise as he switched his staff in his left hand and found Godric’s arm with his right. 

Wow, he’s tall. Why didn’t I notice how tall he was earlier? 

Harry wondered why this felt more awkward with Godric than it did with Healer Jordan or Hermione. Was it because Godric was blind? Or because he was male? Or maybe it was because he was taller than Harry by a considerable amount? 

He’s definitely taller than Dr. Granger. Maybe it is all of it together making awkwardness? 

He puzzled over it. He was touching more people in the last week than he had all last year. It was kind of weird to be so intimate with people he didn’t really know… and with some people it was more uncomfortable than with others. 

Like, I didn’t feel uncomfortable Healer Jordan—she seemed really professional as if she knew what she was doing. Confident, comfortable. Hermione is a friend and how many times did we walk around the castle under the invisibility cloak? It did feel a little strange with her dad, but that’s just because I don’t know him as well. Madam Pomfrey was a mess, so that was awkward. 

Harry stumbled and realized that he needed to pay closer attention to what he was doing. 

“Are you all right there, Mr. Potter?” Mr. Burbage asked. 

“Yep, just need to pay attention to my feet, that’s all.” 

They passed into the corridor and went right across the hallway. When Godric opened the door, Harry was overwhelmed by the owlery odor and for a moment thought he was at the owlery in Hogwarts. 

It’s so odd that the owlery is located across the hall from the reception area, though I imagine that’s convenient for the office staff. 

He had thought for sure that it would be on top of a tower. He realized that he had imagined a tower similar to Great Ben and overlooking the Thames, with owls flying in and out and perched on a jungle-gym of rafters high up into the roof. 

As they stepped into the room, Harry realized that there was a breeze moving through the room as if it had windows open all around. From the windows, he could hear the sounds of London, but from far below and it felt as if the building itself were swaying ever so slightly. 

Maybe it is at the top of a tower, just like I thought! 

“Oi! Are we high up in a tower?” Harry asked as he slipped on some owl droppings under his feet and caught himself by pulling heavily on Godric’s arm. “Poop! Sorry about that!”

“Yes, I guess the view is spectacular—a panoramic view of London. At night, it sparkles with all the lights,” Godric explained. 

Then there was a cooing hoot, explosive flapping and Harry felt feathers and wings dashing against his face and side of his head as a weight landed heavily on his shoulder, piercing claws digging painfully into his skin. Tears sprang to his eyes—the result of both joy and pain. 

“Hedwig!” he shouted. 

He reached up to feel her familiar form with his right hand, while bracing his left shoulder by gripping his staff. 

She launched off his shoulder and landed nearby. Harry followed, using his staff to locate the base of the perch she was on. 

“Watch out, there are droppings everywhere,” Godric cautioned as something brittle crunched under his feet. 

“Oh, Hedwig, I’m so glad you’re here!” Harry was euphoric.

“Harry, I’ll return to the desk now that you’ve located your owl, all right?” Mr. Burbage asked. 

“Yes, thank you so much for your help!” Harry said as he stroked Hedwig’s wing and accepted her nips on his fingers. 

“There’s a mat outside the door that you can wipe your feet on when you leave so that you don’t track anything in the hallway,” Godric advised as he exited the owlery—it sounded as though he were taking advantage of the mat. 

“Okay, thanks!” Harry turned back to Hedwig after the door closed. 

“Oh, Hedwig, I wish you could tell me where you’ve been!” 

As if responding, she hopped on one foot and stuck the other one out to Harry. He followed the contours of her body down to the foot and found a couple of bundles of scrolls. 

“Who else was sending letters, Hedwig?” 

He was curious and untied them, but just stuck them into his pocket to read later. He didn’t want to sit down in here. In fact, he was getting worried that he was going to get pooped on from all the owls up above. 

He did summon one of his sandwiches from his staff and tore off pieces to share with Hedwig who greedily gulped them down. She nuzzled into his cheek, too. He didn’t remember her ever being so affectionate before. 

“It seemed like a long time, girl. Didn’t it?” He smoothed her head. “It was four days. That’s a lot.” 

He had felt her entire body and was relieved to find no sign of injury. He had been worried that she had been hurt. 

He didn’t want to go, but he checked the time and it was nearly eleven. He hated the thought of walking into the dining hall late. 

“Hedwig, I’ll be back soon. Okay?” 

She hooted dolefully in reply and he felt terrible leaving her. 

[hegemoneapple]

Basilisk Eyes: Chapter 36: Waves

Crossposted: Basilisk Eyes by Hegemone | Completed: Chapter 36 out of 157 | T | AO3 | FFN | WATT | HPFF

“Hermione, I want to take off my shoes and feel the sand and ocean between my toes,” Harry said as they neared the crashing waves and inhaling a deep breath of the briny sea air. “Do you think we have time?”

“I guess. Other people are doing it, too, and Healer Jordan is talking with Mei now.” 

“I wonder what her deal is,” Harry said under his breath.

“Yeah. She looks really angry. I almost feel like she did that to us on purpose.”

“Why would she do that?” 

“Who knows? You’d think she’d be happy to be near the ocean… ” Hermione said. 

“Why’s that?” Harry asked. 

But Hermione didn’t answer… she had stopped and was bending over. Harry let go of her arm. 

“Let’s take our shoes off here before we step in the wet sand.”

Harry used his staff for balance as he stripped off his shoes and socks. He set his book bag on the sand next to them.

The sand was hot, almost too hot and he stepped from foot to foot.

“Oh, wow! That burns!”

“Oh, yes, it does. Let’s move this way, it’ll be cooler over here where it is wet,” Hermione tapped the back of his hand and he grasped her arm and they stumbled in the sand until they reached the firmer, wet sand.

“That’s much better,” Harry sighed as the water-cooled sand soothed his feet. He could hear the children shrieking with delight. It sounded like they were chasing the waves and the seagulls in turns.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if Hogwarts had a room like this that opened up to the ocean? Do you think we’re traveling to the actual ocean or we’re in a room that simulates the ocean?”

“I don’t know. It looks real,” Hermione said.

“Either way, it is really incredible,” Dr. Granger said behind them, “this is an amazing world you get to experience.”

“I want to put my feet in the ocean.” Harry bent down and rolled up his jeans.

“I bet it is cold,” Hermione said as they walked toward the water. Harry stepped on something sharp and winced.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see that shell, Harry. Did it cut you?”

Harry felt the bottom of his foot. “I don’t think so.”

A frothy wave washed over his feet.

“It’s warm, Hermione,” Harry said, laughing.

He wanted to run into the water just like the little kids were doing and he pulled on Hermione’s arm and then let go and just started running and stumbling into the waves.

“Wait, Harry! We’ll get wet!” She ran after him. Another wave broke over his feet and doused his trouser legs and Harry shouted in surprise and delight.

One of the kids ran close by them, sand flicking up from their feet as they passed and splattering their legs.

Hermione laced her fingers through Harry’s hand and he pulled her forward, wanting to go deeper into the water. He didn’t care that his trousers were getting soaked.

Another wave came and splashed up into their faces and they retreated a bit, sputtering at the water, laughing.

Further down the beach, Harry heard Healer Jordan trying to get their attention.

“I guess we have to head out. I hope we can come back here. This is amazing,” Harry declared.

“Yeah, it is incredible,” Hermione said, hugging him unexpectedly; her hair blowing across his face.

They made their way back to their shoes and tried to brush off as much sand as they could before sticking their feet back into their socks and shoes. The saltwater on Harry’s legs tighten on his skin as it dried, but he didn’t care. It was as if the waves had washed away some of the misery he had experienced in the last month. 

He picked up his book bag and they staggered back up to the boardwalk, stepping up after some people had passed them. It seemed like the visit to the beach had done most of them a world of good as well.

Harry wondered if Mei Lee also got to enjoy the beach, but from the way she was complaining loudly, it didn’t sound like it. Now he could pick out her brother’s voice, too. He sounded patient, but tired as he tried to cajole her into a happier mood.

The threshold was apparently charmed with a spell that removed the sand from their clothing and shoes as they walked through as well as dried their clothes. Harry was amazed that it also removed the sand that was stuck to his feet inside his socks.

It was strange to be back in the hallway with the aroma of Shepherd’s pie enveloping them again and to leave behind the hot sun and humidity of the O&M room. He wondered what the swimming lessons would be like in there. 

Maybe I’ll learn how to swim!

“We’re going to head to the dormitories now. A number of you are starting your residency program today, others will be joining us during the day. Our day students are welcome to tour the dorms or continue exploring the classrooms. I’ll be giving our residents their room assignments and then we’ll meet in the dining hall at 11:00 for questions. I understand some family members need to leave, so I’ll give you a few minutes before we head to the dorm to say your goodbyes. We’ll meet here by the door to the dormitories in five minutes,” Healer Jordan announced.

Harry heard Dr. Granger murmuring to Hermione on her other side. “Harry,” Hermione whispered. “Dad and I need to head out so that he can get back to work.”

Harry felt like he sank a few inches into sand. He had momentarily forgotten that they were leaving. He was going to have to follow the tour group on his own, meet his roommates, and get the layout of a new living environment by himself.

“Oh, yeah, right,” he said trying to put on a brave face, fairly certain that he’d failed.

“Oh, Harry! I hate having to go. I want to stay.”

“Yeah, I know.” He took in a deep breath. “Hermione. It was the best thing in the world when I heard your voice at the train station. I’d never had made it here if you and your dad hadn’t come when you did.” 

As he said it a tightness lace up his chest. He turned to where he thought Dr. Granger was standing.

“Dr. Granger?” 

“Yes, Harry?” 

Harry adjusted his stance so he was facing him more directly.

“Sir, I really don’t know how to thank you for what you did for me today. Thank you so much for bringing me here, for the train and underground tickets, for being here, for bringing Hermione.” Harry wanted to say more; he was amazed that managed to choke out what he did, but his voice felt friable.

“Harry… ” Dr. Granger seemed to be at a loss for what to say. “Harry,” he tried again, putting a weighty hand on Harry’s shoulder, “I’m very glad we were able to come today. I’m just sorry that… that you were facing this alone. If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ring or… send an owl.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said.

Hermione pulled Harry into a tight hug. He wasn’t too surprised by it. Her cheek was wet against his and he felt tears pricking in his eyes. He blinked them back, afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop if he started crying. He really didn’t want to cry in front of all these people.

“Bye, Harry. I’ll write you lots—either by muggle post or owl. Let me know when Hedwig makes it back, okay?”

“Okay, I will. Thanks again, Hermione,” Harry squeezed her and let her go.

“Bye, Harry,” Dr. Granger said and their steps retreated down the corridor. 

Harry could hear other families around him having similar conversations. He stood for a moment listening to get his bearings. He knew he wasn’t too far from where Healer Jordan had asked them to gather for the tour to the dormitories. He could hear Mei Lee whining to her family; he didn’t want to get too close to them.

He swung his staff in front of him and started walking toward the sounds of the small group. His staff hit something soft. 

Someone’s foot.

“Sorry about that!” Harry said, stepping to the side.

“No worries.” 

Hey, why isn’t my staff saying anything? 

Harry realized that it hadn’t been giving him information since they left the beach. He tapped it twice with two fingers and moved it over the area in front of him, and was relieved to hear the familiar voice describing the area. 

It must have turned off when I dropped it.

The staff told him when he’d reached the edge of the small group of people standing by the door to the dormitories and he stood slightly apart from them, waiting. He felt as if he had just crawled out of a warm nest covers and now was shivering in a cold room.

But not as alone as I feel at the Dursleys.

“Hi,” someone said nearby and Harry looked up, wondering if they were talking to him.

“Hi, I’m Tony. Tony Montague. I’ve seen you at Hogwarts. You’re a Gryffindor, right?” 

“Hi, Tony.” 

He didn’t remember anyone named Tony. His voice was deep, like he’d gotten past the squeaky adolescent stage.

“I’m Harry Potter,” he said as hestuck out his hand for a handshake. “And yes, I’m in Gryffindor.” Tony never grabbed his hand to shake it, so Harry finally put it down feeling his embarrassment creeping up his neck.

“I heard you got hurt in the Chamber of Secrets by some monster… that’s wicked, mate!” 

Tony sounded a little excited and Harry found that off-putting. He was still trying to place him.

“Yeah, well,” Harry said shrugging, not really wanting to get into it. “What house are you in?”

“I’m a seventh-year Slytherin. Well, I’ll be in seventh year when term starts again. So what happened down there? Are you really blind?”

“Um, yes,” answered Harry.

“Was it really a 50-foot-long serpent?”

“Um, I really don’t want to talk about it,” Harry said.

“Oi! I guess the ‘Heir of Slytherin’ is too high and mighty to condescend to tell us about what really happened,” Tony barked, another voice joined in the laughter as they stomped off.

Harry clenched his jaw to restrain the retort riding on his tongue.

Great. With my luck, he’ll be my roommate.

Harry heard Healer Jordan’s quick footsteps approaching the group and was glad to move on. The Shepherd’s pie aroma was almost torture now, he was so hungry.

Healer Jordan asked the group to follow her through the large doors into the dormitory area. The group had stopped and Harry shifted from foot to foot impatiently while she explained that even though it was a small Center that served no more than twenty people at a time, they believed that having roommates helped students feel more included and less isolated. They had sixteen residents at the time that would be grouped by age. She reminded the group to respect each other’s privacy. Harry sighed heavily. There were individual changing rooms/showers/toilets that were adapted to the needs of the residents, so even though residents were sharing a living space they’d each enjoy privacy when they needed it.

Harry wondered how many people he’d be sharing a room with.  

Did this mean that Mei would be a roommate? What about Tony? Was he a resident or a family member of someone who was residing here? 

He wished Hermione was still there so he could ask her.

“I’m going to read the list of residents for each room as we move through the dormitories. When your name is called, you can enter the room, meet your roommates, choose your area (each area has a bed, wardrobe, and desk), and get settled. Remember that we’re meeting the dining hall at 11 am,” Healer Jordan explained.

The first room was for the youngest residents, Healer Jordan explained and Harry heard his name along with Gemma Boot, Aminah Khan, Mei Lee, and Tony Montague being called.

Harry heard Mei Lee kvetching loudly to her mom about having to share a room with boys as she passed through the doorway. He decided to hang back a moment. Healer Jordan moved on with the rest of the group. Harry started to move toward the door when he felt a gentle hand pressing on his arm.

“Yes?” Harry asked, wondering what they wanted. They didn’t answer.

“Do you need something?” Harry wondered. 

The person seemed to be shorter than him and small. He wondered if it was one of the kids from the family of kids that had been squealing on the beach. He waited again, his head cocked to the side trying to hear any clues they might offer. All he could hear was gentle breathing.

They tugged on his arm, urging him forward.

“Do you want to go into the room?” Harry asked, in a voice he usually reserved for small children.

The hand on his arm tapped it and pulled again. Harry started stepping forward.

“Oh, Gemma, there you are. What are you doing out here? I thought you’d want to choose your bed right away, you know, get a good spot. Oh, well, are you helping this bli- boy?” A motherly sounding woman had approached them. With her was a sound of fluttering paper as if she were flipping through a book.

“Hello, dear,” she said and Harry figured she was addressing him.

“Hello.”

“Gemma is… well, she can’t hear or speak. A terrible bout of spattergroit this spring—incurable,” she explained in a low voice. “Are you coming into the room to choose your area? Better come on in before you have no choice. I’m Mrs. Boot, by the way, Gemma’s mother.” 

She pressed her hand to his back and pushed him toward the door.

Gemma was still holding on to Harry, guiding him gently toward the door.

“Thank you,” Harry said, feeling as though he could have managed this better on his own.

In the room, Mei was continuing her tirade of complaints. 

If she’s trying to convince her family to take her home, she’s going about it completely wrong. Who’d want to put up with that! 

Mrs. Boot hurried Gemma off to another part of the room and Harry stood in the entrance, unsure as to how to proceed. At last, it occurred to him to ask his staff to take him to the unclaimed bed and it did.

It was right next to Mei Lee’s area, of course.