At the end of class, Harry approached Godric.
"Er, Godric, so, I was wondering. Is there somewhere where I can practice flying on my broom?"
"Oh, sure. But before you do that, we need to modify your broom. Do you have some time now? We could go over to the Gonnelli workshop."
"Sure, that would be great!" Harry could hardly contain his excitement.
"Do you want to change out of your training clothes?"
"No, if it's okay, I'd rather wear them."
"Sure, that's no problem. Just stick them in the laundry when you're done and they'll be laundered and waiting for you at your next defense class."
"That's awesome," Harry said.
The Gonnelli workshop was just around the corner from O&M room, on the way to the dining hall.
Harry inhaled the aromas of wood, oil, and metal as they walked in.
"Hullo?" Godric called out.
"Greetings, Godric. What can I do for you?" The voice was growly, reminding Harry of the goblins at Gringotts.
"Greetings, Figora. Harry Potter here would like to make some modifications to his broom. Oh, and your staff as well, right Harry?" Godric had turned to him.
"Harry Potter? Is that right? Well, come on over here and show me what you've got."
Harry followed Godric and squeezed his staff to get a description of the room. It was another circular room, like the owlery and the dormitory. Harry wondered if the center, when viewed from a distance, had a bunch of towers like Hogwarts.
"I'll just get my broom out, then," said Harry nervously as he pressed the three dots that opened the storage, and summoned his broom out of it.
"Whoa, careful there. You about knocked over my goblet of cherry ice," Figora said.
"Sorry," Harry muttered.
"So, Harry Potter, who I understand is a fine Quidditch player, wants to fly on his broom again and needs it to be fitted up with some navigational charms so that he can do that. What do you suggest, Figora?" Godric asked.
Harry suddenly felt hot.
"Oh, well, that's actually pretty simple. You just add a spot for your staff on your broom and then charm them to work together. They can be fitted together to work together seamlessly. Now, do you have your wand stored in your staff?" Figora asked Harry.
Harry was surprised that this goblin (he was pretty sure he was a goblin) was so pleasant.
"Um, yes, I do," Harry said.
"Putting all your ashwinder eggs in one basket, then?" Figora stated.
"Er."
"Well, Harry what if you've placed your wand in your staff and your staff in your broom and then your broom goes and floats off? What are you going to do then? Eh?" Figora probed.
"So I should take my wand out then?"
"Yes," Godric confirmed.
He wasn't sure what to do with his broom and stood awkwardly for a second, trying to hold both his staff and his broom and open the extendable storage again. Figora took his broom and set it down on a table.
"Thanks," Harry muttered and opened up the extendable storage again to summon his wand. He realized that he hadn't held it since he put it in there and it felt almost foreign in his hand.
He shoved it in his front trouser pocket.
"You're going to blow off something that you'll miss, doing that, young human," Figora said.
"Don't you have a holster?" Godric asked.
"Er, no. You mean like for a gun?" Harry asked.
"No, for your wand," Godric said.
"Oh. Wouldn't it fall out?" Harry asked.
"Not as often as wands fall out of pockets or blasts off your bits," Godric explained. "Holsters are usually fitted to the underside of your wrist, so that you can flick them out easily. You can get one that holds both your wand and your staff."
"Oh. I guess I kind of thought that my staff was going to take the place of my wand now," Harry said.
"Oh, well, it can for a lot of things, but there are things that you'll want to do with your wand," Godric explained.
"Like get your broom back when it takes off with your staff," said Figora.
"Right," said Harry.
"Harry, I'm going to head out. I think you're in good hands with Figora. Listen to her advice and don't forget to eat lunch!" Godric said.
"Ha. Okay, thanks," Harry said as his mind was racing. Her advice? I thought she was a he. Dang.
"Here, let's get your broom sorted out and then we can talk about holsters afterward," Figora said. "So, I'm going to create a place in your broom for your staff. When you want to ride it, you place your staff inside and then use the same navigational spells. The broom's magic and the staff's magic are really similar and channeled similarly to wands. Let me take a look at your wand."
Harry pulled it out of his pocket and held it out. Figora's long fingernails rasped over Harry's fingers as she took the wand and Harry shivered involuntarily.
"And let me take a look at your staff," Figora said.
Harry took a step forward and found the edge of the table and handed over his staff.
"Hmmm. How is it that all three of your magical objects are composed of the same wood?" Figora asked.
"Holly? Really?" Harry said.
"It's not just Holly—this is Ilex aquafolium and it's an unusual wood for wands, brooms, and staves," Figora breathed. "Did you select these woods on purpose when you bought them?"
"Well, my wand chose me, didn't it. The broom was a gift and they gave me the staff at St. Mungo's. I just thought everyone one, well, everyone who needed one was given the same kind of staff."
He resisted the urge to reach out for his three most precious objects.
"Hmmm, curious," was Figora's response. Harry could hear her running her hands over the broom, the wand, and the staff.
"What's curious?" Harry said, feeling as though he were back in Ollivander's shop.
"Ah. Well. Not much you can do about it, is there?" Figora said.
"Do about what?" Harry said.
"Your fate."
"Er?"
"You are the boy who lived," she said obliquely.
"It wasn't anything that I did."
"Exactly."
"Well, how about my broom?"
"Right," and she started muttering spells in Gobbledegook. The hair on Harry's arms and the back of his neck stood straight on end.
He heard wood cracking.
"What's happening?" He followed the edge of the table until he was standing near Figora.
Figora grabbed his hand and pulled it toward the broom, placing his fingertips over an opening that had formed on the handle of the broom, near the tip. Harry felt it expecting it to be rough, but it was smooth as if it had always been there.
"This is where you'll place your staff. When it is closed, it'll have three raised knots, just as your staff does. Depress it with your thumb to open it and place your staff or take it out. Make sure to remove your wand from your staff before you put it in. All three together—well, that would be foolish indeed, wouldn't it?"
"Sure?"
"Be certain. Just don't do it. Okay, well, what about your staff?"
"Oh, I was hoping to put a metal tip on it," Harry said.
"What kind of metal?" Figora asked.
"Something that sounds good, you know, when it hits things."
"It would have to be durable," Figora said.
"Like steel?"
"Like Goblin forged silver," Figora said.
"I thought silver was a soft metal? And that sounds expensive," Harry said.
"Sure, but this is part of the services provided by the Center, so you need not worry about it," Figora explained.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Would you like to make it yourself?"
"Er, I guess so. Is it something that I can do?"
"That will be entirely up to you," Figora replied.
"I guess I could try."
"Trying is a step in the right direction. I will walk you through the process—but not at this moment. I will take the measurements and get the materials. You can come back this evening after dinner and we can get started making it."
Harry listened as she took the measurements and scratched notes on a piece of parchment with a quill.
"Okay, here is your broom and staff." Harry could hear Figora pushing them toward him on the table and reached forward until he found them.
"Make sure you get a lesson on how to fly from Godric before you try it out—it will be very different. You will need to adjust."
"Okay, thank you," Harry said.
"Now, here's a holster that might fit you. Do you want to try it on?" Figora asked. Harry heard small metal pieces clinking against each other.
"Sure," Harry held out his hand and Figora placed some leather straps with buckles on them in it. He felt along the straps and determined that there were two wristwatch-like straps with buckles and holes for the buckle prong and a long piece of leather connecting them with small loops that would hold a long cylinder.
"How is this going to work, though?" Harry said as he placed his wand along his right forearm. At 11 inches, it was longer than his forearm.
"Just a little magic, not unlike that in your staff, will size it down so that it fits comfortably along your forearm. You won't even know it is there," Figora said. "Unbuckle the straps, lay your dominant arm on it and say, 'fibulam' to fasten it to your arm."
"Do I need to point my wand at it?" Harry asked.
"Touch your wand to the straps otherwise your aim could be off and you could fasten something else," Figora explained.
Harry poked around awkwardly with his left hand holding his wand until he felt the leather strap under the wand tip. He said the incantation and felt the straps twitching under his arm. Figora repeated the pronunciation and Harry tried again and the straps buckled around his wrist and his forearm just below his elbow.
"Now, place your wand into the loops," Figora instructed.
Harry slipped the wand into the loops and felt his wand shrink down until it was snug against his right arm and secure. "Oh, that's cool."
"When you want to use it, you'll think about using it and move your wrist like this," Figora was moving Harry's hand through the motion. "Are you thinking about the wand in your hand?" Figora asked.
"No, I was trying to remember the motion."
"Try again while moving it. That's right," she said as the wand jumped into his awaiting hand. Harry felt it to make sure it was back to its normal size.
"Now you're set. Unless you want to fit it up to hold your staff, too."
"Er, yeah. That would probably be safer than my pocket."
"Indeed. Turn your wrist and I'll attach the loops for your staff."
It took the briefest moment for Figora to make the spot for his staff alongside his wand. When they were both in place he could easily move his hand around and couldn't tell that he had anything strapped to his arm, and with a bit of practice he was able to flick out the tool he wanted by thinking about it.
"Thank you," Harry said as he picked up his broom. "See you after dinner." He was so tempted to try out flying immediately that he was trembling with the effort to not hop on his broom. He hastily flicked his staff out of the holster and put his broom in his staff to reduce the temptation.
"Well, I'll see you," Figora replied with a growl that Harry took as a chuckle.
"Right." Harry navigated out of the workshop and to the dining hall. He was excited to share this new development with his friends. My friends, he smiled.
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
At the entrance to the dining hall, inhaling the pleasant aroma of fried cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, Harry said Reveleo memento and found his friends seated at their normal table. He went over to Gemma and found that there was a seat waiting for him and that Mei was on the other side. He could tell by the sounds of silverware on plates that they had already gone through the buffet.
"Hi, Gemma; Hi Mei," he greeted.
"Gemma was wondering where you were," Mei said.
"I was getting my broom modified so that my staff could be put inside to help me navigate while flying," Harry said.
"That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen," Mei said.
Gemma tapped his arm on the holster and drew a question mark on the back of his hand.
"This is my new holster to hold my wand and staff," Harry explained. "I guess putting my wand inside of my staff and then putting my staff inside my broom could cause problems, so this was a solution so that if my broom flies off without me I can get it back."
"I wonder how many times that will happen before you hang up your broom," Mei said.
"Hey, Godric thinks it is possible."
"Sure, that's great," Mei said.
"Well, I'm going to get lunch," Harry said a bit huffily and strode out for the buffet before he really checked what was in front of him. He ran into a tray and listened as plates and silverware crashed to the floor. He felt warm liquid splash against his legs.
"Merlin's beard! Watch where you're going!" the grumpy old man with the Billywig allergy shouted.
"Oops, sorry," Harry said. "Didn't see you."
Harry flicked out his wand and pointed it at the floor and said, "reparo" and then "scourgify."
Mei started laughing, "Potter, how did you do that?"
"Do what?" Harry asked.
"Turn the plates rainbow colors," Mei said.
"Oh, I don't know. I guess I have to work on my repairing charm," Harry said. "Are they fixed?"
"Well, I guess you could call them that," the man grumbled. "Not that it does me much good." It sounded he had turned around and was headed back to the buffet.
Harry knelt down and felt around on the ground until he had gathered up the plates and silverware and put them on the tray. He ran his hands over the plates (a plate and a bowl, he discovered) and they did feel whole again as well as clean. He sent it back to the kitchen. Gemma had jumped up and was helping him. She was also making a weird breathy sound—and he finally figured out that she was laughing.
"Is it that funny?" he asked.
"Yes," she tapped on his arm.
He stood up and pointed his wand at his legs and cast the scourgify charm, hoping that he didn't change the color of the joggers.
"Did that work?" he asked Gemma.
She tapped "yes," on his arm—she was still heaving from her laughter.
"Thanks. I guess I should go get my lunch. Is that git through the line yet? I'd rather not run into him again," Harry said.
She playfully slapped at his hand, reprimanding him for calling the bloke a git, but then she held his arm for a minute and then gently pushed him toward the buffet. He was more mindful as he set out this time—listening to his staff.
They should put the bell charm on the trays.
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
Harry dipped his sandwich in his soup and leaned over the bowl in an attempt to minimize stains down the fresh white T-shirt. Even so, Gemma pressed on some spots after he ate that he pointed his wand at and muttered "scourgify" to clean.
"I didn't change the color of the shirt, did I," he asked her quietly.
She tapped his hand, "no," and he could tell she was laughing again.
"Must just happen with Reparo."
Tony was talking to Arig about flying on Harry's broom that morning.
He leaned toward Mei and asked, "How did your lessons go this morning?"
"Uh, they were okay, I guess," she said.
"Are you learning how to control your Jia—ja… how do you say it? Magic?"
"Jiāorén," she supplied. "Yeah, it was better today. I'm better able to control it when I'm in water, of course."
"Oh, that makes sense, I guess," Harry said. "What if you carry water with you?"
"What do you mean? Like in a cup?"
"Sure, I dunno," Harry shrugged.
"Why do you care?"
"Well, I don't like getting hexed with your magic." He felt defensive. "And we were thinking of trying to play Quidditch and I thought you might want to play."
"Oh," her voice was small. "I still have trouble sitting on a broom."
"Have you visited the Gonnelli workshop yet? Figora modified my broom to hold my staff. Maybe she can help you, too. I'm going back tonight after dinner to work on my staff—to add a metal tip to it."
"I dunno. I'll think about it," Mei said.
"Okay," Harry said and he turned back to Gemma, "Do you have a broom at home?"
She took his hand, "T-E-R-R-Y'S" space "O-L-D" space "B-R-O-O-M".
"Maybe your mum could bring it when she visits this weekend?"
"M-A-Y-B-E" space "I" space "A-S-K" she wrote on his palm.
He turned a small smile toward her. "Do you want to go to the courtyard until it is time for class?" He stood up. "Oh! I have to go early to class—Madam Flamel asked me to. I almost forgot."
"Harry, don't you want to try out your broom?" Tony asked from across the table.
"I have to wait until I have a lesson with Godric," Harry said.
"Come on, what if you did it in that padded room?" Tony cajoled.
"I, er… Godric said I should wait," Harry said, though it was a struggle to say it. His feet were itching to take him to the O&M room.
"Yeah, I suppose." Tony let it go.
Gemma tugged on his arm and guided his hand to her elbow.
"You want to go?" he asked her.
"Yes," she tapped impatiently.
"I need to read that book that Madam Flamel gave me before class," Harry explained. She tapped three times, "I understand."
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
It was warm in the courtyard, but Harry was glad to be outside. They sat in the grass beneath the tree reading with their backs against the bench and their arms touching—so that Harry could tell when Gemma was turning pages in her book. She was also practicing signs as she read. When he asked her what she was reading, she had guided his anagnóstis to the cover, "Dictionary of British Sign Language."
Harry was easily distracted. The book Madam Flamel had given him about the life of Louis Braille was written in a flowery style that made it difficult to understand… and it continued to be bleak and gory as it was set during the Reign of Terror followed by years of instability during Napoleon's quest for power. The chapter that described how Louis Braille stabbed himself in the eye with a leather working tool in his dad's saddle-making workshop when he was just three was almost too much for Harry.
"Do you want to teach me some signs that we could use?" Harry asked, setting his book down.
She drew a question mark in his hand.
"I don't know. Some signs you use a lot that would make things faster for us," Harry said.
She ran her index finger over his palm several times.
"What does that mean? Is it 'write?' Do you want me to get the notebook out?" he asked.
"Yes," she tapped on his hand.
"Okay." He put away his book and took the notebook and pencil out of his staff.
She took it and wrote, "This is the sign for 'walk,'" and then she ran the tips of her index and second finger across his palm.
"So, like if you wanted to go somewhere, you'd make that sign—kind of like 'let's go," he asked.
She tapped "yes."
She tapped her index finger on his chin twice and he furrowed his brows. She wrote, "that means 'who?'
"So we could use that if I'm talking about someone and you don't know who I'm talking about."
"Yeah," she tapped.
She held his hand and tapped the edge of his hand with the edge of hers. He was confused. Then she took both his hands, so he set down the anagnóstis and she held them out in front of him face down and then motioned with her palms face up underneath them, back and forth, mirroring the motion of her hands.
"Is that 'where?'" he asked.
"Yes!" she tapped enthusiastically.
"How am I going to know to hold my hands like that so that you can do the where underneath them?" he asked.
She put his hand on her shoulder and shrugged and they burst out into laughter, Gemma's shoulders heaving up and down as she dissolved into giggles. Harry could hear her breath—her soundless laughter. Tears squeezed out of his eyes.
Finally, they got their giggling under control and she tapped his wrist. Without thinking, he tempus'd his staff and told her, "it's 1:25," and he grabbed her hand and skimmed two of his fingers across her palm, "Let's go!"
She squeezed his hand, delighted.