The nutritional potion that Healer Jordan had given Harry not only was delicious, he felt full in a way he hadn't ever experienced before. He didn't remember ever feeling full until he and Ron ate their way through all those pumpkin pasties on the train to Hogwarts in his first year. After a big feast at Hogwarts, he would feel uncomfortably full—wonderfully satisfied, but on the edge of too full. This was a just-right full and it was helping push away the sticky wetness of grief that seemed to be pulling at him. Maybe not push it away completely, but to help keep it at bay. Maybe he could leave the safety of the dormitory and try stretching with Ms. Midgeon—especially if Gemma was there with him.

I could try it.

He reached over to his desk and found the schedule and when he pulled on it, he heard the Mami Wata necklace scrape against the wood. He slipped it over his head, fingering the shells and hairy cord. He ran his fingers over the braille and recognized a few letters, but couldn't read it. He reached for his staff to summon his anagnóstis.

Half way through saying the incantation, he remembered that he was supposed to go back and get the anagnóstis from Figora the next morning.

When was that?

He was surprised when it snapped into his palm.

Who put it back in here? I sure was out of it.

"Hey, Harry," Mei's voice came from behind her wall with a splash.

He paused—setting the anagnóstis on the desk with his schedule, then stood up, shook out his staff and asked, "yeah?"

He walked toward her area… a little shakily and stood with his staff touching the base of her tank, but as far away as he could. He could hear the water lapping against the sides and briny odor was stronger on this side of the wall.

"Hey, are you doing okay?" she asked, her voice not as gruff as it often was. It sounded like she was hanging over the edge of the tank.

He shrugged.

"Yeah," she said quietly and the silence wasn't uncomfortable. There were little noises that made Harry wonder if she was lightly slapping the water with the tips of her tail.

"You scared us yesterday," she continued after a bit, "It was weird being on the other side of it. Seeing someone so weighed down by depression and nothing we could do to bring you back. It was scary."

"Sorry… I didn't mean to cause problems," Harry said.

"No, I get it. I really get it. Like you don't know how much I get it… or maybe you do, I don't know," Mei said. "I heard that you went flying with Arig on Wednesday and then spewed spectacularly when you crashed."

"We just fell—we were already on the ground, but yeah," Harry conceded.

"Was that it?" Mei asked hesitantly.

Harry shrugged, not trusting his voice.

"Yeah," Mei said. "Join the club. It sucks."

Harry shrugged again. He felt really tired and was tempted to just crawl back into bed again. But he had promised Healer Jordan and Gemma was waiting for him.

"Well, I've got to head out to sea. Hǎi rén is waiting. They say that I'm getting the hang of it. I might be able to try a magical chair while I'm on land—maybe something that would help with keeping me hydrated, too." She paused. "Hey, did you go to the workshop? Did you work with that goblin?"

"Figora? Yeah, Peter, Gemma, and I each made things with her. She was actually pretty cool—patient," Harry felt a little flicker of warmth remembering.

"Who's Peter?" Mei asked.

"He's a friend of Gemma's—he rooms with Adam and Shannon across the hall," Harry said.

"The bloke who's blind and deaf?" Mei asked.

Harry nodded.

"Okay, see you at lunch, I guess."

And there was a splash and then just the sound of the sea water lapping against the sides of the tank.

Harry turned and listened to the room. He couldn't hear anyone, so cast the Reveleo memento charm and learned that Gemma and Healer Jordan were still in the room, but everyone else had left. He guessed that he couldn't hear them because Healer Jordan had cast the privacy charm around Gemma's area.

He went back to his desk and read through his schedule with his anagnóstis and had a little shock when he realized it was Friday. I missed a whole day. He tempus'd his staff to see how much time until stretching started—he had a half hour still.

He heard Healer Jordan walking toward his area again.

"Harry," she said as she came near, "I'm heading out—I need to check on Arig. Are you doing okay? Do you feel like you're going to keep down that potion?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, turning in his chair to face her. He tried to push his lips into a smile, but they wouldn't go. "What happened to Arig?"

"He's been taking his potion this week and now he's in the safe room for his transformation. I just want to make sure he's doing okay. It can still be a rough process… even with the potion."

"Oh, right," Harry nodded solemnly. "Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about Professor McGonagall's visit."

"Yes?" And she sat in the chair by his desk.

"Well, there wasn't much to it. It was really short," Harry said, turning to face her. "I mean… I already told you about how she said that I couldn't fly. But after that she just asked me how I was doing—being blind and all—and then she asked me about my time with the Dursleys and then she left."

"That was it?" Healer Jordan said.

"Yep," Harry said.

"Hmmm," Healer Jordan paused. "I was there at your guardian's house with Professor McGonagall."

"Don't call them that," Harry said.

"What? Guardians?" Healer Jordan asked.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Okay. What would you like me to call them?" Healer Jordan said.

"The Dursleys," Harry said flatly.

"Okay, I was with Professor McGonagall when she visited the Dursleys. We were both very concerned about how they spoke about you."

"Oh," Harry said. "They are just like that. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Harry," Healer Jordan said firmly. "They also indicated that you had run away on Monday."

"What?" He sat up straighter and then slumped back against the chair. "Well, I guess I did. They said they wouldn't bring me here, so I left on my own."

"I also received a letter from a Mr. Granger and it sounds like Professor McGonagall did as well. He expressed concern that your… that the Dursleys had refused to take you to training and that he and his daughter… Hermione… found you at the train station contemplating sneaking on the train because you had no muggle money for a ticket. He said that you also mentioned walking to London. He said that you were covered in bruises and very thin and pale. He was concerned that you had been abused," she said.

Harry put his hands under his legs to keep them from trembling.

"Abused? They… that's not… I'm fine," he mumbled.

"You don't think they were abusing you?"

"No, they just don't like me. But it's not that bad… it's not abuse."

"Have they ever hit you?"

"No, well, not anything I didn't deserve. Just like other kids… just whippings for being bad," he muttered.

"And did they hit your cousin, too?"

"Er, well. I dunno. I guess. Not really."

"So, he's not bad?"

"I annoy them more," he explained. "'Cause I'm weird. A freak."

"Hmmm. This is because of your magic?"

He shrugged, then nodded.

"And what about when Madam Pomfrey took you back on Monday last month, after you lost your sight?"

"I dunno, what?" he cocked his ear toward Healer Jordan, trying to figure out what she meant.

"How did they treat you when you returned from school early and hurt?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much the same, though Aunt Petunia was a little kinder than usual. She let me sleep some; made it easier for me to do my chores." He remembered how she'd laid out the tools for cooking for him.

"What chores did you have to do?"

"Just normal stuff… cooking and cleaning… taking care of the yard."

"Is that how you got the burns on your fingers?"

He nodded.

"Did they feed you?"

"What? Yeah, it was just harder to eat… not being able to see."

"But you were able to cook and clean and do yard work?"

"Well, it was harder, too, but I figured it out. I had help from Little Friend."

"Who's Little Friend?"

"A little garden snake. He helped me weed and mow the grass and even wash the windows," Harry said.

"How did the snake help you do those things?" She sounded curious.

"Well… I can speak to snakes… in Parseltongue." He waited for the gasp, but she didn't make one.

"So, Little Friend would guide you verbally?"

"Yes, I'd feed him worms and things and he'd help me by telling me what was in my path. He could also tell me what plants were weeds until I was able to recognize them by touch."

"He sounds like a smart little snake," she paused. "And the bruises you had when you arrived here?"

"I told you. I ran into things, doors and things." He was starting to get frustrated.

"Okay, Thank you, Harry, we can talk more about this later. Professor McGonagall was going to talk to Professor Dumbledore about what we can do about the Dursleys. She said she'd come by today."

"Oh."

"I'll be there with you," she reassured.

Harry nodded, feeling a little better, though he didn't think anything could be done about the Dursleys. They were just the Dursleys.

"Uh… could you speak to her about me flying? I really loved it. What if she won't let me do it when I go back to Hogwarts? Do you think they'll let me go back to Hogwarts? Other wixen have been able to return after injuries, right?" Harry asked in a rush.

"Harry, I understand that you're afraid that you won't be able to return to the life you had before you lost your sight, and yes, it'll be different, but that's why we're here… to help you adapt and to also help the people around you adapt… in some cases, they'll need more support than you do," she said, her tone changing to something more stern. "I'm not exactly sure what Professor McGonagall said to you, but if you want to fly, you will be able to fly. Okay? I'll talk to her. We'll get this sorted out."

"Thank you," Harry said and some of the heaviness he'd been feeling fell away.

"Hey, that's why we're here," Healer Jordan said lightly as she stood up. "I've got to go. Gemma's coming over. I hope your day goes well. Let me know if you need anything. Remember, you can use your staff to let me know if you need help."

"Okay, thanks."

"I'll bring you another nutrition potion at lunch," she said as she walked away.

Harry felt around the desk for his schedule and anagnóstis and then found the scroll that Healer Jordan had said Hedwig had delivered.

Gemma waved across his back in greeting. He reached for her hand.

"Hiya, Gemma. Do we have time for me to read this note before we go?"

"Yes," she tapped on his wrist.

He unrolled the scroll wondering who it was from.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron's voice burst through his aftí. He started and adjusted the noise level.

"Mum says we'll be there around 10 am on Saturday and we'll stay the whole day. It'll be the whole lot of us, so you better warn everyone. Ginny's still working on her letter. Maybe she'll just talk to you. See you soon. Oops! Sorry. Ha ha! Ron."

Harry liked hearing Ron's voice.

He rolled up the scroll and stuck it in his staff along with the anagnóstis and his schedule, then stood up and shook out his staff.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked Gemma.

She tapped his hand, "yes," at the same time she signaled that she was ready to guide him.

They walked slowly to the O&M room. Harry felt as though all his limbs were weighed down with sandbags—though it wasn't as bad as it had been before.

Once inside, he realized that he and Gemma were getting a private lesson with Ms. Midgeon and he was relieved. They went to their dressing rooms and changed, then met Ms. Midgeon in a smaller, warm room that had wood floors that was filled with a spicy, smoky fragrance. Music was playing—it was strangely exotic—not in a key he was used to hearing—but still captivating. She spoke to them in hushed tones and handed them each a mat asking to find a spot an arm's length away from each other and take off their socks. Her voice was soothing as she explained each stretch and helped them find the pose. Harry's arms and legs trembled and he had to put down his foot a number of times to keep from toppling over. She spent a lot of time telling them how to breathe—it was so simple, but so hard.

There was one stretch that he liked a lot—Ms. Midgeon called it "child's pose" and he could have stayed in that for a long time. He was surprised when a tear trickled down his nose and he worked hard to keep the rest in.

By the time she was instructing them to lie down on their backs for the final pose called "corpse pose," he felt like he had stretched muscles he didn't even know he had.

oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo

Peter joined them to go to the workshop with Figora.

"Harry, did you get your anagnóstis back? I gave it to Healer Jordan," Figora asked.

"Yes, thank you. She must have put it in my staff," Harry said.

"I've cast your pieces," Figora said as they entered the workshop and Harry heard the clear ringing sound of metal on wood. He knew he should feel more anticipation than he felt, but he still felt like he was wading through muck. He guessed that the effects of the potion were wearing off.

Slowly, Harry slid his hands across the wood table—it was gouged and pockmarked from previous projects—until he found the small metal pieces that he had heard Figora drop. The first one he found was Peter's ring. He felt Gemma's arm glance across the top of his and he knew that she was picking up her bracelet. Cast in silver, the design was even more enchanting. He ran his fingers all around it and then found Peter's shoulder, his elbow, then his hand and placed the ring in his upturned palm.

He held his hands lightly over Peter's to feel his reaction to finding the cast ring in his palm and could tell that Peter was captivated by it. Gemma's fingers danced across both of their hands and it was as close as the three of them could get at delighting together over the beauty of the ring.

He reached out again, ghosting his fingers over the table until he found the tip to his staff. Figora had added a post with threads on it before she cast it in Goblin silver. It wasn't as delicately carved as Peter's ring, but he was still happy with it.

I feel happy.

It was a little burst of feeling that passed quickly, but at least it had penetrated the fog for a moment.

Gemma flitted over to look at his staff tip and show him her bracelet that had an organic beauty to it now that it was cast in silver.

"It's really nice, Gemma. I bet your mum will love it," Harry told her.

She squeezed his arm.

"There are some burs and other areas that you'll want to grind down. I'll show you how to do that if you come over here to this workstation," Figora said in her gruff voice.

The three of them worked again on their pieces, side by side with elbows touching companionably.

"Figora, I think the tip is ready to be screwed onto my staff," Harry said.

"Here, let me take a look at it," she said coming over. "Yes, I believe you're right. Extend your staff and let's drill the hole for the female part of the threads. We have to do this carefully or we could crack the wood."

Harry sighed. He was really tired.

"Here, I'll help you," Figora said. "Hand me the staff. Come on, you can do this."

Harry stood up slowly and Figora helped Harry secure the staff in a clamp and then line up the hand drill and secure it so that it wouldn't move during drilling. Slowly, Harry turned the crank on the drill, back it up every so often to empty the sawdust from the tip, until the hole was drilled. Figora handed Harry the female part of the threads and a rubber hammer to drive it into the wood. The fit was snug enough that it wouldn't fall out, but not too tight that it stressed the tip of the wood. Once it was flush with the tip, it was time to screw on the Goblin silver tip.

Figora undid the clamps and Harry heard a squeak which he guessed was a cloth being rubbed over the tip to shine it up, then she pressed the staff against his knuckles gently, and he grasped it.

"Give it a go—see how it works," Figora encouraged.

Harry adjusted the staff so that the navigational voice wouldn't speak and set the staff on the ground. The tip rang clear and resonate against the stone floor of the workshop. It bounced off the surfaces of the objects in the area and Harry knew that he wanted to go someplace with a little more space. He swung it and tapped the ground, moving until he found a space that was more open and the ringing feedback was even more resolute. The sound vibrated through him.

"What do you think, Harry?" Figora asked.

"It is perfect," Harry said and a glow of happiness burned through the cloud that was hovering near his shoulders.

"It does have a clear sound," Figora agreed. "It looks fine, too."

The cloud settled back around him when he turned to share it with Gemma and Peter and realized that they couldn't hear it. His shoulders sagged.

He lifted his head when he heard approaching footsteps. He tried the Reveleo memento spell to see who was coming, but the staff was silent.

"Harry, I've brought you the potion," Healer Jordan said. "Oh, that's a beautiful tip you've added to your staff. Does it help you echolocate?"

"Echolocate? You mean like bats?" Harry asked.

"Yes, they send out a sonar that bounces off objects so that they can fly at night," Healer Jordan explained.

"I guess it kind of does," Harry said thoughtfully. He held out his hand and she placed the warm bottle of potion in his upturned palm. "Thanks," he said as he got a whiff of the potion and his stomach growled in response.

"How did your morning go?" she asked.

"It was fine," Harry said. "I was thinking that I would just have the potion and rest during lunch in the dorm. Is that okay?"

"Sure, that's probably wise," Healer Jordan agreed. "Do you want to try out the safe space I was telling you about in my office? It would give you a bit more privacy and quiet than you'll have in your dorm."

"I guess," Harry agreed, though he wasn't sure. He just didn't have the energy to argue.

"I'll tell Gemma and Peter that you'll meet up with them at the O&M room at 1 o'clock," she said.

He nodded and started walking toward the door… he could tell where the door was by the way the sound bounced off the walls on either side, but moved through the space directly in front of him. He imagined himself as a bat.

They fly and they can't see.