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.