GETTING ORIENTED

Suddenly, Harry was standing on the seashore. It felt like morning, perhaps late morning. An orange sun was climbing into the hazy sky from out of the water. It felt strangely hot and humid for so early in the day. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tried to get a reading on where he might now be located.

Up the hill behind him he could hear a blur of music and see the tops of structures. The air was a mix of the ocean and the spicy foods that must be cooking up there. He needed to investigate.

"This smells like Ealing Road on the way up to Wembley," he thought as he walked up the path to the top of the hill. He noticed he was wearing a saffron shirt and loose-fitting pants. Inside the pockets of his new attire he found his wand, money pouch and something else. It turned out to be a UK passport claiming upon examination that he was eighteen-years old and from Little Whinging, Surrey, England. "Wicked, and pretty comfortable, too."

Hermione had once taken Ron and him to Ealing Road and Wembley on her quest to expand their knowledge of the muggle world. Ron was wholly ignorant of the muggle world, especially cultures other than that of the UK. He needed to broaden his horizons. Harry was somewhat more knowledgeable, but the Dursleys kept him mostly under wraps to avoid having to explain him to their friends and acquaintances. That and the Dursley's rejection of that 'foreign' food left him lacking as well. Hermione's parents, on the other hand, had taken her there many times in her earlier life. She loved the sights, sounds and exotic food. By the end of their visit both Ron and he had agreed it seemed a little more like the magical world than mainstream London.

However, when he made it to the top of the hill, he did not find Ealing Road or a similar road in another English city. This appeared to be real-life India. The architecture was colorful and ornate behind a wall of vendor tents. The music was like they had heard in the shops on Ealing Road, but now he could see real musicians playing it.

A man in an orange shirt and white pants with a turban similar to Quirrell's, but with every color imaginable woven into it was sitting with his legs crossed on a rug. In front of him was a large, wicker basket. A pair of cobras were rising up out of the basket and swaying rhythmically to the movements of the instrument he was playing. It looked to be some kind of flute made from a gourd and metal tube.

The snakes turned and said hello to Harry as he passed. Harry reflexively responded in kind. The musician seemed concerned and confused by their behavior. However, he was satisfied after Harry tossed a coin called a rupee into his bowl and the snakes returned to their normal behavior.

All along the street magicians and acrobats were performing muggle magic and stunts in hopes of collecting rupees amidst the food and trinket stands. It was a regular street fair. He tossed rupee coins into several bowls receiving smiles and nods of appreciation.

All the while the smell of the food was working its magic on his empty stomach. He began looking at the various food vendors for something appealing. Partway down the street, he saw a tent selling samosas. He recognized them from his trip with Ron and Hermione and remembered they were quite tasty. A girl who looked to be about eleven or twelve with doe-like eyes and shiny black hair was manning the counter. She reminded him tremendously of the Patil twins, more so Pavarti than Padma. He asked her what type of fillings were in the various types.

"Spicy potato, chicken, beef, vegetable, spicy vegetable" came the shy, smiling reply as she pointed to each of the trays.

"Ummm…they all look so good. I just can't decide. I think I will have one of each, and a bottle of water," he said, not having any trouble understanding her or responding. Her English was remarkably good.

She placed his selections on a paper plate and set it in front of him. He fumbled with his money as he went to pay. She continued to smile at him. "I'm sorry. I am not from here. I don't know the money that well."

After a moment, she reached out and took the appropriate coins from amongst the paper and coins in his hand and smiled. "I could not tell," she said with a little giggle. "You look…so local."

They both laughed.

"You do speak our dialect quite well," she commented. "I am surprised."

"Wait a minute. Am I speaking...Indian? How is this possible?" he asked himself. "I don't know Indian. What else don't I know I know?"

After a couple of seconds of stunned mental silence, he remembered his previous encounters with the snakes and discovering he was a parselmouth during his second year at Hogwarts. This new world he seemed trapped in continued to get more and more amazing and weird.

"Naṉṟi," he said as he picked up his food.

"Uṅkaḷai varavēṟkiṟōm," she replied, still smiling.

Harry made his way down the street as he ate thesamosas. They were quite delicious, even better than the ones he had eaten on Ealing Road. He was glad he had purchased the water after he bit into the spicy vegetable one. It had a considerable quantity of peppers. He was already cooking in the heat, but this lit him up even further.

All of the newspapers he saw told him he was in Chennai in India. They all said the date was in the month of Thai or Magha of the year 2011. "Bloody hell. I'm in the future," he thought.

That information was, of course, only moderately helpful. Some of the headlines that caught his eye spoke of a killer they called "Psycho Shankar". Further reading said he was thought to have committed several robbery/rape/murders. He got a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was destined to have an encounter with him.

A short while later he found a national paper that told him the date was the second of February in 2011. "If this is their winter," he thought, ``I wonder what their summer is like."

The bulk of his day was spent sightseeing. The setting was so exotic, like nothing he had ever seen. Ealing Road and Wembley did not do it justice. He loved the many temples and public artworks. There were loads of sculptures of elephants and other animals, even dragons and monsters. The dragons gave the city a strange connection in his mind to the magical world.

Chennai, so it turned out, was rooted in having been a hub of the British East India Company back when it was called Madras. He found an Anglican church, Catholic Cathedral/Basilica and a place called Fort St. George that had a museum full of interesting muggle history.

By dinner time he had wound around and made it back to the beach area. He had eaten a light lunch at the museum and was starting to feel hungry. He began thinking about more of those samosas, especially the beef and chicken ones. After a long day of walking, he was feeling particularly carnivorous.

Harry eventually found the same samosa stand and approached it. The same young girl who had been there earlier was still working. She smiled upon recognizing him.

"Welcome back," she said with a bigger smile than earlier.

"Hello," said Harry. "I have come back for more of your delicious samosas."

"What would you like?"

"Are those the beef?" he asked, pointing at a bowl with four samosas.

"Yes," she replied.

"I'll take all four of them and a chicken one and a spicy potato one. Oh…and a bottle of water. I will definitely need a bottle of water."

She placed them in front of him and took the appropriate payment from the coins in his hand. He started to thank her, then said, "Say, I am wondering if you could help me? I am looking for a place to stay for a couple of nights. Could you recommend a good place? A good inn or hotel, perhaps?"

The girl stepped away from the counter and went to the back where her parents were working. From what Harry could overhear, she told her father he was looking for a room for a couple of nights. She asked him about the room behind their house that was mainly used for storage. They could make some money and she was certain he would pay well. Her father was not excited about the idea, but the girl said this was the second time he had eaten here and that he was very polite and nice.

Her father finally stopped what he was doing and walked up to the counter. "I am Sundar Raman," he started as he gave Harry the once over. "My daughter tells me you are looking for a room for the night."

"Yes, sir," replied Harry. "My name is Harry Potter. Uh…yes…uh, I was asking your daughter's help in finding a room for a couple of nights."

"Why don't you go to a hotel, Mr. Potter?"

"That is what I was asking her about. Oh. Did she think I was asking her…no, sir. I was asking about hotels? I am sorry if she misunderstood."

"What brings you to Chennai, Mr. Potter?"

"I am adventuring, sir. Uh, please call me Harry."

"Adventuring, Mr. Harry? You seem a little young to be adventuring on your own."

"Yes, I am eighteen," he said, pulling out his passport for supporting evidence. His lie benefited from him being a Caucasian instead of an Indian, and therefore less familiar to Sundar. "I have friends coming. We are all on a school break. They were delayed. It is something to do with their passports. They will be here in two days according to my friend Padma. I talked to her on the telephone earlier this afternoon."

"Where are you from, Mr. Harry?" He was definitely grilling him before making a decision on whether or not to offer him a room.

"Little Whinging. That's near London…uh…in England. But I go to school in Scotland."

"Yes, I know of London and Scotland. How is it you know our language? I think it is not common for someone like you to speak our language." Sundar was still acting rightfully skeptical.

"Oh, yes. I suppose that is unusual, There are a pair of twins at my school. Their names are Padma and Pavarti Patil. They are from here. They have been teaching my friends and me your language since we met four years ago."

Harry was lying through his teeth, but shamefully doing a good job of it. Sundar's sober expression was slowly softening into a smile.

"They are with my other friends," added Harry. "You can meet them when they get here."

That answer seemed to please Sundar. He smiled and said, "There are many hotels along the beach. They will cost you at least two thousand rupees or more per night. As it so happens, I can provide you with a room and meals for one thousand rupees. It is only a small room, but you seem to like our cooking. It will save you a lot of money."

"That would be amazing, sir. Thank you. Yes, I will be happy to stay in your room."

Harry pulled his pouch out of his pocket and counted out ten two-hundred rupee notes. Sundar smiled as he took the money.

"This is my wife, Priya" said Sundar as he extended his arm toward her causing her to smile. She looked very much like an older version of Pavarti. "And this is Girija, but you already know her."

Pleasure, ma'am. Well, I didn't know Girija's name," he said as Girija smiled at hearing him say it, "but yes, we have met."

The day was waning and the crowd on the street was thinning out. "We will be closing soon," said Priya. "Please have a couple more samosas. We cannot keep them."

Harry smiled and took a pair of spicy potato ones. The beef and chicken ones were gone, as were the spicy vegetable ones that set his mouth on fire earlier in the day. "Thank you," he said. Girija stood by quietly with a girlish smile she was trying to hide. She was clearly excited to have this handsome young man staying with them.

Girija and her parents pulled down the cover on the front of their stand signifying the end of the business day. Girija started cleaning up the sales area as her parents began cooking what was presumably dinner. He ate a plate of food containing a few things he had never seen before along with some of the leftover samosas. He waved off seconds truthfully claiming he was quite full having eaten the other samosas not that long ago.

Once the dishes from dinner were cleared up, they started off in the direction of what was surely going to be his place for the night. The neighborhood was nothing special, poor by London standards, but it seemed fine. Sundar welcomed him into their humble home.

Their house was a truly humble affair. It was one large room with a small cooking area. It was no bigger than Harry's dorm room back at Hogwarts. They had a few chairs arranged around a table. In the back left corner were a dresser and a cot large enough for Sundar and Priya facing the left outside wall. In the opposite back corner were a mattress on the floor facing the back wall and a smaller dresser for Girija's things. Several pictures hung on the walls. Many of the pictures were religious. Some of them featured a pair of young men in military uniforms. A single light attached to a fan hung from the center of the ceiling. The side and front walls had two windows each. A small television sat on a table against the wall.

They sat down and chatted about everything and nothing. Harry told them about life in the UK. He had to work to keep the magical world out of the conversation. Girija hung on his every word, hardly stopping to look at her cellphone.

Sundar and his family talked about life in Chennai. They knew they were poor, simple folks by UK standards, but they were happy. And after all, that is most often more important than station in life.

As much as they were enjoying their talk, time to turn in came upon them. Sundar lit an oil lamp and led Harry outside and around to the back of the home. He opened up a door into a room about ten-foot square. There were boxes and other items stacked along the wall adjacent to the home. The room was clearly used for storage.

On the outside wall was a cot with a chattayi on it that he said was filled with clean straw. "My sons Kumar and Aadavan use the room when they come home to visit from the army," he said with the air of a proud father. There was a light sheet for covering himself folded on the chattayi along with a pillow. This was plenty considering the warmth. Sundar opened up the windows to provide some semblance of ventilation before leaving. All things considered, it had been quite a day. Harry disrobed down to his underwear and climbed onto the cot.

As he lay there, the events of the day slowed his ability to slip into sleep. Suddenly there was a commotion coming from inside the house. It sounded like a fight. Harry's inclination was to go see if everything was okay. However, his manners held him back.

The noise stopped after a couple of minutes. Everything was seemingly fine. Then he heard a voice. It sounded like Girija. She was crying and begging someone to stop and to not do it. Harry felt the overriding need to investigate.

He pulled on his pants and relit the lamp. Carrying the lamp, he walked around to the door into the home. Oddly, it was slightly ajar. He pushed the door open far enough to peer inside. He nearly fainted.

Sundar and Priya were in the back corner on Girija's bed. Blood was trickling from Sundar's nose and a cut on his forehead. Priya was not bleeding but looked to have a black eye. Both of them were gagged and appeared to be struggling against some ropes that were restraining them.

As bad as that was, the situation for Girija was even worse. She had been stripped naked and tied onto Sundar and Priya's bed. A man, naked from the waist down was over her. He had his legs between hers and was pawing at her small breasts as he moved forward. She was begging him to stop. Undaunted, it was obvious he was seconds away from plunging his erection into her adolescent vagina.

"Now you can watch me enjoy your daughter," he yelled to Sundar and Priya as he began coarsely touching her vagina.

Harry set down the lamp and picked up a chair. He struck the intruder across the back. This caused him to topple forward onto Girija, then pushed back up. He reached for the knife that he had set on the bed to free up his hands for the assault.

The chair had proven itself surprisingly sturdy. Harry stepped forward preparing to hit the rapist a second time. The man leapt up and dove out the window. His shoes and trousers remained on the floor.

Harry moved toward the door to give chase but thought the better of it. He picked up the knife and cut Girija free from her bonds. She jumped up to hug him, but he stepped back.

"You should put your clothes on first," he said.

Girija looked at herself and suddenly felt naked and exposed. She covered her budding breasts and nether region with her arms and hands.

Harry walked over and cut the ropes off Sundar and Priya. Girija was redressed by the time her parents were free and back on their feet.

The family was immensely appreciative. Harry received over-exuberant hugs from Sundar and Priya. They even stood back while Girija gave him a big hug, seeming to almost attempt to kiss him, which was not customary behavior for a young girl such as her under normal circumstances. As sanity returned, Sundar, then Priya began talking to him.

"You have saved our lives, Mr. Harry," said Sundar. "It is impossible for us to thank you enough. Anything you want that we can give is yours."

"It is fine," said Harry, taken aback by the outpour of gratitude directed at him.

"We are most appreciative," reiterated Priya as she pulled Girija to her. Girija was looking at Harry with adoring eyes. "Not only did you save our lives, but you saved our daughter's virginity."

I…uh…well, I never even considered that," replied Harry, slightly embarrassed by the mention of such a thing.

"Yes. Yes," said Sundar, also hugging his Girija. "That is most important. Without her virginity, it would be most impossible to find her a good husband."

Harry asked about calling the police. He wanted to step away from this embarrassing subject for a person his age. Sundar said it would be a waste of time. The man is gone. They will do nothing. Only if they had been murdered would they do something. He said he planned to talk with the policeman who usually stopped to buy some of their samosas in the morning.

Girija looked up at her mother. "Can I give it to him," she asked.

"If you wish. It is yours."

Girija extended her hand to Harry and offered him a small, gold elephant. He took it, even though no gift was necessary for his actions.

"Please keep it so you will always remember me."

"Thank you, I will always remember you," he said as he examined it. He was pleased to see it had her name delicately inscribed on it.

A few minutes passed. Harry excused himself to go back to his room. It took awhile for the adrenaline to wear off, but he eventually slipped into slumber.