Harry and Hermione stood on the platform waiting for the train to London with Dr. Granger. Harry had shaken out his staff to restore it to its normal size so he could show Hermione how he used it to get around.
"That's really impressive, Harry," Hermione commented when he walked around a rubbish bin to demonstrate how useful it was.
"Here, you want to try?" he held it out to her.
"Oh, I don't know, Harry," she said hesitantly, but she took it from his hand and held still while he tried to put the aftí on her ear. After a bit of awkward fumbling that involved getting his hands tangled in her hair, she smoothed it back and guided his hand to her ear so that he could put it on. He heard her walking around, tapping the ground. "It's not saying anything, Harry," she said.
"You've extended your index finger down the length, right? Are you swinging it from left to right in an arc in front of your body as I showed you?" he asked, "and stepping with your opposite foot?"
"Oh, okay, now it's doing it. That's cool!"
She walked around with it a bit more. Hermione came up next to Harry and handed it back to him. She touched the back of his hand with it and then grasped his other hand and turned it palm up to place the aftí in it.
"You can't see the aftí once it is in place, Harry," Hermione remarked.
"Harry, I've been thinking," said Dr. Granger. "Maybe before we catch the train, we should go talk to your Aunt and Uncle."
"Oh, I don't think that would be a good idea, Dr. Granger."
"Why not?"
"Well, they are really busy right now. That's why they couldn't take me." Harry lied again. He'd had parents of friends from primary who'd done similar things… and it had not gone well for Harry. Never had it improved his lot… it had only made things worse.
The train came into the station and Harry could tell that Dr. Granger was torn.
"It's okay. They want me to be independent," said Harry.
"I think this is a bit much, sending a newly blinded child on the train to London to find his adaptation training on his own!"
"Well, they know I have this staff." He held up his staff. "It makes it easier for me, right?"
"Well, all right, but I'm going to give them a call when I get home," Dr. Granger conceded as they boarded the train. Harry held onto Hermione's shoulder and held his staff in his left hand, parallel to his body as they went up the stairs into the car.
Harry was tempted to tell him not to, but decided to let it go.
Maybe he'll forget.
"Harry, don't you have more luggage?" Dr. Granger inquired when the got on and found their seats. "I understand that this course you're taking will last a month."
"I've got it all with me, Dr. Granger. My staff holds a lot," he said leaning in close so that he didn't have to say it too loudly. He collapsed it and put it in his pocket.
"That is truly amazing."
The train started to pull out of the station and Harry sat back in his seat feeling a bit tired and a little content. It felt really good to be sitting next to Hermione and her dad, though, he had a niggling worry for Hedwig.
I hope she's all right!
"Harry, how'd you crack your glasses?" Hermione asked.
"I ran into a door."
"Oh, ow! Maybe when we're at the training center, I can fix them for you."
"That'd be nice. I tried to repair a serviette of my Aunt's that I burned—I guess it was my great-grandmother's—when I was ironing, but she said that it turned all sorts of different colors. It fixed the holes and it felt whole to me. I used the Reparo charm with my staff. So I've been nervous about trying the charm with other things, like my glasses."
"That's weird that it turned it different colors. Why do you think it did that?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I didn't know the word for serviette, so I just said 'Reparo serviette,' I think that's why it happened. When you fixed my glasses, you said, 'Occulus reparo,' remember?"
"I guess that could be it." agreed Hermione.
"Harry, Hermione, I'm going to use the facilities, I'll be back in a little bit," Dr. Granger said as he got up.
"Harry—you can't tell my dad about the Basilisk, okay? I didn't tell him about any of that stuff or even that I was petrified!"
"Er, all right. What did you tell him happened to me, then?" Harry asked.
"Well, I told my parents that you were injured by an exploding cauldron when you were trying to protect Ginny from a bully. I wrote about this in my letter, but I guess you didn't get it."
"Bully is a bit of an understatement."
"They'll never let me return to Hogwarts if they knew anything about some monster lurking in the castle or if they knew how close I got to being killed by it."
Harry let out a sigh. With everything that had happened since he had forgotten about that. Hermione was almost killed by the Basilisk, too. He felt a little twinge of guilt for befriending Nio, and then he mentally kicked himself.
Nio is nothing like the Basilisk. And maybe the Basilisk wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been controlled by Tom Riddle.
Harry was feeling like he was being lulled to sleep by the motion of the train. It was weird to travel on a train and not see the landscape rushing by.
Dr. Granger returned and it sounded like he'd brought a newspaper with him.
Harry asked Hermione about the last month of school that he missed and she started recounting all the lessons that he missed and pretty soon he was having a harder and harder time paying attention. He felt like he was weaving in and out of consciousness until he gave in completely and laid his head on her shoulder.
[break]
"Harry, Harry," Hermione said as she shook his shoulder.
Harry sat up and wiped a string of drool suspended from his lip with the back of his hand.
"Er, sorry, Hermione. I guess I fell asleep."
"It's all right, Harry. You looked tired. I bet you needed to sleep." He touched her shoulder where his head had been resting and found a corresponding spot of wetness.
"Eep. I drooled on you." He was embarrassed.
"Harry, it's all right," Hermione insisted, though he imagined that she was a bit grossed out by it. He could only go by her voice.
"We're getting close to the Waterloo station. I think we get off there and then walk to the Waterloo East station to catch the underground to Charing Cross Road."
Harry held onto his staff and whispered, "Tempus," to find out the time. The lyrical voice of the staff said, "Quarter past 8 am."
"What time is it?" Hermione asked. Harry told her.
"That's really handy—your aftí means you can use magic while you're around muggles."
"Yeah, it's nice. What are you going to do after you drop me off at the Adaptation training."
"Dad said he'd take me to the British Museum afterward."
"Oh, I bet you'll love that." Harry was glad that he didn't have to go to some boring museum.
"Harry, before I forget, I want to give you my phone number. Is there something I can write it on for you, that you could read it with your anagnóstis?"
"Oh, I have the note from the doctor you could write it on there," Harry said, pulling it out of his bookbag. "Do you have a pencil or pen?"
She did and he listened to the pencil scratching on the parchment.
"I wrote my number on the back."
"Thanks. That's great."
Harry felt better knowing that he could call Hermione, given access to a muggle phone.
"I don't know if they will have muggle phones at the training," admitted Harry. "But I should be able to send letters with Hedwig, once she comes back."
He couldn't hide the worry in his voice.
"She'll find you, Harry."
"I hope so. I don't know what this training will be like, but maybe I can come visit you on the weekend or something."
"Oh, that would be great, Harry!"
"Yes, Harry, you'd be welcome any time," Dr. Granger agreed. "We are going to France for holiday mid-July and into August, though."
"Oh, wow. What part of France?" Harry asked.
"Paris. Monica has planned it all."
"I'll write you lots, Harry, and tell you all about it. They have some really amazing museums and I'm hoping to do some research into some of the magical sites in Paris. I've only read about them, it'll be really interesting to visit them. And of course, the food is divine."
Harry felt a little glum. He was glad to escape the Dursleys for a bit—anything had to be better than dodging Dudley, but when he compared it to Hermione's adventures, it felt bleak. He shook his head trying to dislodge the self-pity.
Even with the sting of envy, something was comforting about Dr. Granger's presence that made Harry a bit wistful that their journey was coming to an end. He wasn't sure what it was. They hadn't really talked much, beyond his desire to look into the Dursley's neglect.
Maybe that was it.
Or maybe it was something about the way he sounded and smelled—his voice was comforting and strong and he had a clean, woody smell about him… like a strong tree that you could lean against and feel safe. Harry realized that he'd never felt that way about Uncle Vernon. He had only known fear and revulsion around him.
Hermione's lucky.
They were approaching the station (according to the announcements over the train and Hermione who was giving him a blow-by-blow description of pulling into the station). When it stopped, they stood up and Harry shook out his staff again, taking Hermione's arm after looping his bookbag diagonally across his body.