"No, we'll have to go with transfiguration," Healer Jordan continued, unaware that Harry's world was spinning. "What time are you leaving tomorrow?"
"Huh?" Harry said.
"Are you alright, Harry?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said almost automatically, planting his feet squarely on the floor in an attempt to stop the tilting. "Er, Hermione and her dad are coming at 9 am to pick me up."
"Okay, well, stop by my office on your way to meet them and I'll do a bit of transfiguration so that you're not recognizable. You should still be able to access your vault at Gringotts, though, as the goblin magic will be able to see beyond the transfiguration to verify your identity," Healer Jordan explained.
"Does that mean that goblins will be able to recognize me?" Harry asked.
"Yes, but just in the context of proving your right to access your vault. The goblins who work at Gringotts have a vested interest in protecting their customers. You should be as safe as you can be without locking you away from the world. Even then, there are no guarantees."
Harry was quiet, listening to Arig's plaintiful whining and scratching on the other side of the door.
Safe. When have I ever felt safe? When have I ever been safe?
Sometimes, when he had hidden away in his cupboard he had felt safe for a little bit, until Vernon's footsteps had thundered down the hall… sometimes he'd felt safe in his bed at Hogwarts surrounded by the snores and mutterings of his dorm mates… he had even had some moments here in the Center… in the courtyard or in the owlery.
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
Harry awoke in the morning to the gentle chiming of bells and groaned… then remembered he was the one who had set the alarm. It had taken him a while to figure out how to do it. In fact, he was the only one in the dorm. Everyone else had gone home for the weekend—except for Arig, of course, who was still being held captive for his own safety and that of others.
He tried to bury his head in his pillow, but the chiming persisted. Finally, he slid out of bed and grabbed his staff to find the panel and shut off the alarm. He made his way to the toilet to get ready for the day.
Last night when he realized that it was just him and the cranky old man with the billywig allergy, Gordon, at the Center for dinner, the heaviness that he had felt on Friday started seeping back into his limbs. Dinner with Gordon had been a slog and he was glad for the excuse to escape to his room. He tried working on braille for a bit, but couldn't focus and didn't get very far. Finally, he'd just gone to bed early and then ended up laying in bed for a long time, keenly aware of how eerily quiet it was without his friends making their little noises.
He still felt a little weighed down, even though he was looking forward to spending the day with Hermione and her dad. He had spent a lot of time last night wondering if he and Ron would ever be friends again like they had been before this happened. Those thoughts returned as he was pulling on his trousers… remembering Ron's question about if he needed help when he dressed. At the time, it seemed kind of ridiculous, but as he was feeling his shirt to find the tag and seams to make sure he put it on frontwards and right-side-out, he wondered if he would have thought the same thing before all this happened.
It's definitely a little harder, but not impossible. It's different.
He thought about Lieutenant James Holman traveling all over the world to get away from people who tried to confine him to a life of dependency and boredom.
He had a flash of horror that almost made him fall over while he was putting on his trainers…
What if the reason Aunt Petunia was so nice to me was because she thought that I'd be stuck living with her and without magic for the rest of my life, cleaning, cooking, and doing yard work?
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
Harry visited the owlery with scraps from breakfast and a short scroll he'd written to Ginny that morning. Her tremulous voice was stuck in his head; there was something about it that was niggling at him.
"Hedwig, can you give Ginny some nuzzles when you deliver this? I think she really needs it," he murmured as he rubbed his face against her feathery form. Hedwig nibbled at his hair in response.
Harry left the owlery feeling a little lighter than when he entered. I wish Hedwig could stay with me in my room… that's the one good thing about Privet Drive… sharing my room with Hedwig. And Little Friend.
He navigated across the hallway to knock on Healer Jordan's office door. He heard her calling, "come in" and opened the door slowly. He caught a whiff of coffee and heard the tinkle of a spoon against china. It also sounded like a window was open and he could smell rain coming into the room on a cool breeze. He listened for Arig's whining, but didn't hear him this time.
Maybe he's asleep.
"Is Arig okay?"
"Yes, he is. Just sleeping, and good morning," Healer Jordan chuckled.
"Oh, Sorry… Good morning, Healer Jordan," Harry responded, chagrined. "Hey, have there always been windows in here?"
"Yes, but today I opened them—I love the smell of rain—especially in the summer," she said.
"The light isn't so bright as it is in the library or the dining hall—are they small windows?" Harry asked.
He was trying to look around the room to see if he could tell where the light was coming from, but he could just tell that there was some light, but couldn't pinpoint it. It didn't hurt his eyes.
"Yes, and they have curtains over them," she said as she tapped his hand and led him to the window. He felt the light fabric that was fluttering in the breeze.
"Is it overlooking a garden?" he asked.
"Yes, it's the garden where you and Besel were planting herbs the other day," she said.
"Oh, it smells nice," he said. "Do you have any garden snakes?"
"I haven't come across any yet, but I'll let you know," she said and he could hear the smile in her voice. "So, I'm going to do a slight transfiguration to your appearance… and I think the easiest thing is to change the color of your skin and eyes… I'll also disguise your scar. You're going to appear Asian for all intents and purposes. I'm also going to make your hair shorter."
"Okay, how long will it last?" Harry asked.
"Until I remove it," she said. "Okay, are you ready?"
"Yes," Harry said, standing still as he felt the air moving near him, presumably Healer Jordan's wand.
He felt a subtle warmth move from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet and tips of his fingers, then he felt his forehead warm and cool and his eyes felt scratchy as if he had sand in them.
"Okay, you can breathe again, Harry," Healer Jordan said gently.
He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes which were now watering.
"How do I look?" he asked.
"Like you, just more brown," Healer Jordan said. "It should throw off the casual observer."
He felt the skin on his arms, but it felt the same to him. He reached up and touched his forehead tentatively. The lightning bolt scar was gone—his forehead was smooth.
He grinned, "Thank you!"
He ran his hands through his hair—it was shorter, thicker, and curly. He pulled at a curl and it sprang back.
"It's about 9 am," Healer Jordan said.
"Okay, I'll head out to the reception area. We'll see if they recognize me!" he smiled impishly as he ran his fingers over his smooth forehead again.
"Yep, see you," she said. "Oh, Harry, before you and the Grangers leave this morning, will you ask Dr. Granger if he can stop by to see me?"
"Sure."
Harry entered the reception area and listened, trying to determine if anyone was there. He could hear someone at the desk banging away with an impossibly loud machine that made the typically serene room cacophonous.
"Hi, may I help you with something?" Godric asked.
"Hi, Godric, it's just me, Harry. I'm waiting for some friends to arrive," Harry said.
"Oh, Harry, I've been meaning to catch up with you. I heard that Professor McGonagall is trying to forbid you from flying."
Harry was quiet for a moment, "Yeah."
"Don't take it too hard. She did the same thing to me when I was at Hogwarts. I would have thought that she'd have gotten over it by now—she can be overprotective. But Healer Jordan's working with it on her. I'm sure they'll have it figured out by the time you go back. Just know that it has a lot more to do with her and her history than with you or your abilities, okay?" Godric said.
"Yeah, I guess. Thanks."
"No problem," Godric said and then after a moment, he started banging away again.
Harry approached the desk. "Er, Godric, what are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm just typing up some notes."
"On what? A machine-gun typewriter?"
"Ah, no! Ha! Sounds like it, though! It's a brailler. I could put a muffling charm on it but I guess I like it. Come over here and I'll show you."
Harry moved around to the side of the desk, tapping the edge with the tip of his staff.
"Give me your hand," Godric said.
Harry extended his hand and found Godric's arm. He guided Harry's hand to a smooth metal surface. Harry ran his hand over it and found that it had a piece of paper with braille on it and lower discovered three oblong keys on each side with a larger bicycle-seat-shaped key between them and two smaller round keys on either side.
"A brailler?" Harry asked.
"It's a faster way to write braille. See, these three keys type cells one through three and these three on the right side type four through six. This one in the center is the space bar. This little round one on the right side is a back-space, and this round one on the left advances the paper up," Godric said as he moved Harry's hand to the keys that he was describing.
"Do you write from right to left like you do with the slate and stylus?" Harry asked.
"That's a good question. No, the brailler punches from the bottom up, so you can read it right here without having to turn it over," Godric said guiding Harry's hand to the text he'd written on the paper.
"Oh, wow, that's cool," Harry said as he heard the entryway open up and the sounds of Charing Cross Road flood into the quiet reception area.
Harry heard footsteps clattering across the tile in the reception area and was pretty certain it was Hermione and her dad as he had heard a hushed whisper as they entered that sounded like Hermione, but then she was quiet, so he wasn't sure. He could hear them shaking umbrellas and wondered how hard it was raining. He still had his hand on the braille that Godric had been writing and found two letters he recognized.
"Hi, we're here to visit Harry Potter," Hermione said.
"Hi, Hermione, I guess my disguise works."
"Harry?" She sounded genuinely shocked.
Harry walked around to the front of the reception desk with his knuckles lightly touching the side.
"Healer Jordan did a bit of transfiguration so that I could go out without being recognized."
"Your scar is gone. And your hair is curly!" She touched his hair, surprising him.
"Oh, sorry, I should have told you I was going to touch you."
"It's okay."
"Hi, Harry, you certainly look different from the last time I saw you!" Dr. Dan Granger said.
"Hi, Dr. Granger. Thanks for coming to visit me again, I really appreciate it," Harry held out his hand and Dr. Granger took it in his. "Healer Jordan said she wanted to talk to you before we left."
"Er, okay," Dr. Granger said. "Where should I go to see Healer Jordan."
"I can show you to her office, Dr. Granger," Godric said.
"We should probably come up with a new name for you while you're disguised," Hermione said thoughtfully as Godric led Dr. Granger out of the room.
"Oh, right. Any ideas?" Harry asked.
"Well, you look like you're from India… so how about Haripreet? There was a boy at my Primary named that and if I accidentally start calling you Harry, I can just pretend I was trying to say Haripreet… "
"I guess that could work… " Harry said.
"We can just say that you're my friend from Primary… " Hermione said.
"And that I never went to Hogwarts because… ?" Harry asked.
"Well, maybe you're just starting this year? You do look like a first year… " Hermione said.
"Hey!" Harry said.
"Well, you do," Hermione said.
"Okay, I guess we could go with that. That could be why you're taking me to Diagon Alley," Harry agreed.
"Do you need to get anything before we head out?" Hermione asked.
"No, I'm ready to go," Harry said.
"Where do you want to go first?" Hermione asked.
"How about Gringotts?" Harry asked.
"Sure, I thought that's where you'd want to go. Maybe we can find the shop that sells Quick Quotes Quills after," Hermione said.
"Yeah, that'd be good. I bet Godric knows where it is," Harry said.
"Er, Harry," Hermione said and her tone changed to something more serious. "I wanted to tell you that I told my parents last night about the Chamber of Secrets and what went on with you and Tom Riddle and the Basilisk and how I spent a good portion of the semester petrified. After spending the day with the Weasleys and talking about it so freely, I just couldn't lie to them anymore. They were really upset, of course. And I've been grounded, but they are still letting me come and visit you; mostly because they are really worried about you."
"Oh, wow. And you can still go to Hogwarts?" Harry asked, suddenly worried.
"Well, they are pretty upset that I spent so much time petrified in the hospital wing and no one told them… They are going to request a meeting with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall," she replied.
"Yeah, that was odd." He heard Godric returning through the door and then settling back behind the desk.
"Um, Godric, do you know a good place to get Quick Quotes Quills?" Harry asked.
"Sure, Scribulus Writing Instruments is next door to Florish & Blotts, but you might also want to take a look at Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment in Diagon Alley, too. They have a line of adaptive magical instruments," Godric explained. "Here's a map of Diagon Alley. I'll mark the shops on it."
"Oh, can you mark Gringotts on it, too?" Hermione asked.
"Yep, no problem," said Godric.
Harry listened as Godric unfurled a scroll and wondered how he was going to mark it. Harry heard Godric running his hands over the parchment and guessed that it was a tactile map.
"Here you go," Godric said, rolling the scroll back up.
Dr. Granger joined them at the desk.
"So are you ready to head out?" he asked.
"Yes," Hermione answered. "Mr. Burbage, how do we get to Diagon Alley from here?"
"Push the large red button and tell the panel on the south wall that you want to travel to Diagon Alley and then walk across the threshold and you'll be at the entrance near Gringotts," Godric said.
"What? Really?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, it is actually something unique about the Center. Madam Flamel has always wondered why the Ministry of Magic is so resistant to Egress magic… it really makes travel between frequent destinations so much easier. Since this is a private, nonprofit institution she's been able to implement it throughout the Center. She hopes to prove by example to the British wixen community that it is safe and reliable. I guess the wider use of it has been stalled in the Department of Mysteries for generations. Even so, there are places where Egress magic is used, though minimally—Diagon Alley, St. Mungo's, and Hogwarts to name a few," Godric explained.
He went on, his voice rising with emotion: "For those of us who are living with disabilities that impact our mobility, Egresses can really make our daily lives so much easier. Sometimes we expend so much of our resources and energy just getting places, that we don't have the capacity to fully engage once we reach our destination. And Egresses are also really helpful for those of us who can't use other forms of magical transportation such as apparition, brooms, or traveling by the floo network… Sorry! I should get off my soapbox! I just get so passionate about this topic… "
"It's really fascinating, actually. Thank you for explaining," Hermione said. "I'll have to look into it when I have a chance to go to the library."
"So, are you ready to go?" Harry asked impatiently.
"Yes, let's try out this Egress thing," Dr. Granger agreed.
"Dad, we decided that to call Harry 'Haripreet' while we're in Diagon Alley and say that he's a friend of mine from Primary who is just starting at Hogwarts this year," Hermione explained as she tapped the back of Harry's hand and they walked across the reception area.
"Haripreet? Okay. That sounds familiar… " Dr. Granger said.
"You remember Haripreet, right dad? He and his family moved back to New Delhi," Hermione explained.
"Right, Haripreet Batra," Dr. Granger confirmed.
Harry said the full name under his breath a few times, hoping that he wouldn't stumble if he had to tell someone that was his name while they were in Diagon Alley.
Harry heard Hermione pressing a button that dinged like an elevator button, then she said, "We wish to travel to Diagon Alley," and stepped forward. Harry felt the familiar pull of magic on his navel as they passed through the entryway that opened up allowing the noises and aromas of Diagon Alley to spill into the reception area. Dr. Granger had a hand on Harry's shoulder as they passed through and he squeezed it.
"It's kind of hard to get used to this, no matter how many times we do it," he said.
Harry felt the familiar cobblestones under his feet (they were slick from rain) and the peculiar aromas of Diagon Alley—the mixture of potion ingredients (something smelled distinctively fishy) and butterbeer mixed up with the aroma of pumpkin pasties as well as the absence of petrol fumes. The odors were all made stronger by the recent rain. He could hear owls hooting and the sounds of the Wizarding Wireless Network emitting a tune sung by some warbling witches.
From behind him, he heard gleeful laughter and something brushed by Harry's trousers. He held his staff firmly, afraid that it was going to get knocked out of his hand again.
"Whoa, what was that?" Harry exclaimed.
"Oh, some kids on toy brooms," Hermione explained. "They passed by us really closely. Oh, there are their parents running behind them trying to catch up."
"Can't they just cast a summoning charm?" Harry wondered.
"Yeah, you can't summon people! That could be disastrous!" Hermione said as the parents lumbered past them, feet splashing in puddles.
"And I guess Accio-ing the brooms would send the children flying," Harry mused.
"The brooms probably have protections on them to prevent that," Hermione said. "Okay, we're about to go up the steps to Gringotts, Harry -er Haripreet—it's about twenty steps up."
Harry pushed his staff forward to find the first step and liked the sound of the metal tip against the stone step.
Harry remembered climbing these steps with Hagrid and the towering white building. He could almost feel its oppressive presence—maybe it was the way the wind moved around it. Or maybe it was more than that—the marble beneath his feet seemed to be almost thrumming with life. When they reached the top, Harry wondered if the doors were still flanked by two goblin guards in red robes. He listened for clues, but couldn't hear anyone.
They passed through the enormous outer doors and then the smaller inner doors and were inside a huge echoing cavern of a hall. As they crossed each threshold, Harry felt the pull of magic on his navel.
"I don't remember feeling that before," Harry muttered to himself.
"What's that Harry -preet?" Hermione asked.
"Just the magic when we cross the threshold—did you feel that?" Harry asked.
"What do you mean?" Hermione questioned.
"I can feel the magic tug on my navel when we cross through. Er, can't you?"
"I don't know," Hermione said. "Here, this window is open." She took Harry's hand and placed it on the cool marble counter in front of him—it was tall—just below his chin and Harry felt rather insignificant standing there.
"Hello, I'd like to make a withdrawal from my account," he said nervously. "Oh, and could I also change some of it to pounds … er … muggle money?"
"Certainly, do you have your key?" the bank clerk behind the counter replied. Harry assumed that it was a goblin from the growly voice, but remembered Figora and didn't want to assume that he was talking to a male or female goblin.
"Um, yes, just a second," Harry said and he opened the storage of his staff and summoned his vault key from the depths.
"Interesting, usually vault keys have protections against the summoning charm," the clerk said.
"Oh, well that would make it difficult to retrieve from my staff, then," Harry muttered as he placed the key on the counter and slid it forward.
"Certainly, Mr. Harry James Potter. All seems to be in order here. Your friends can wait here while Gargnuk takes you to your vault," the clerk said.
"Oh, well, I'd like them to come with me, please," Harry said.
"As you wish," was the clerk's reply. "When you've fetched your gold, then return here and we can convert it to muggle money."
"Thank you," Harry said.
Harry stepped back and Hermione tapped his hand and he held onto her arm while they waited for Gargnuk. Dr. Granger stood behind them, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. Harry heard him mutter, "This place gives me the creeps."
"Dr. Granger, have you been to the vaults before?" Harry wondered.
"No, Harry er -preet. We don't have an account here. We just convert our pounds to galleons when it is time to buy things," Dan answered.
"I haven't either," said Hermione.
"Oh, well, it's kind of like a big dipper," Harry warned them. "My first time, I thought it was pretty fun, but Hagrid didn't like it at all." Harry wasn't sure where he'd fall this time.
The footsteps that approached them were quick and sharp, but short.
"This way," a gruff voice instructed them.
They were through to a door that made Hermione gasp and again Harry felt the pull on his navel at the threshold.
"There, did you feel that?" Harry leaned over and whispered to Hermione.
"Kind of," Hermione said hesitantly as they made their way down a steep slope. Harry felt the temperature drop dramatically at the same time that the air felt damp. As he listened to the echoes of his staff's tip against the rocky floor and could tell that the walls were close, he wondered what they'd would feel like. He suspected that they'd be coated in a mossy wetness. It certainly smelled like it. He could also smell something smokey that cut across the mildew-y odors.
There was a shrill whistle and a rattle and screech of metal on metal that clattered to a stop not far from where they were standing that made Harry want to cover his ears.
Hermione let her dad get in first and then put Harry's hand on the side of the little metal cart. Harry used his staff to find the step up and Dan grasped his elbow and guided him to a seat next to him. Hermione squeezed in next to Harry. Gargnuk came in last and then they were off.
Hermione was gasping and exclaiming as they went along. Dan seemed to be bracing himself against the twists and turns and it helped Harry gauge when they'd be turning or dropping as they traveled at a breakneck speed through the tunnels. Harry realized that the ride was just as thrilling, if not more so, this time as it had been the first time and it gave him a jolt of joy. Though, at one point there was a blinding flash of light that made Harry gasp and shut his eyes in pain, but it was over as soon as he felt it.
Finally, the cart came to a sudden, lurching stop and they tumbled out of the cart. Harry and Hermione were laughing from exhilaration, but Dr. Granger seemed to be glad to be on solid ground again.
Harry had forgotten about the pungent smokey fog—green—he remembered—that came billowing out when his vault was opened. "What's the smoke for?" Harry asked.
He heard Hermione gasp and he felt the heat rise in his neck, realizing that she was looking at his piles of gold.
"It's just a potion that keeps the coins from tarnishing," Gargnuk explained as he pushed a plush cloth into Harry's hand.
He felt the cloth and realized that it was a velvety bag with a drawstring bag with tassels. "How much should I take out, Hermione?" Harry asked, realizing he hadn't really thought it through. How much would he need for new clothes? He'd never bought any before… except wizarding clothes. He remembered that his ten galleons had been converted to nearly fifty pounds.
"Well, have you spent any of the fifty I converted for you last week?" Hermione asked.
"Just a couple pounds for ice cream yesterday," he said.
"Well, I don't know—you probably need about a hundred pounds or more to buy new clothes, so twenty or thirty galleons? It looks like you've got plenty here," Hermione said.
"Okay, they are in stacks of galleons, sickles, and knuts, right?" Harry said.
"Yes, do you… " but before she finished asking he had cast a navigant spell to find the pile of galleons. He knelt down and started counting out galleons and dropping them into his bag.
"Harry, did you know that there are old books in your vault?" Hermione said in hushed tones.
"What?" Harry lifted his head up. "Really? I don't remember seeing them before… but I might have been distracted by the piles of money."
"Yeah. They look really old. I wonder what's in them," Hermione said, the desire strong in her voice.
"Can I take the books?" Harry asked in the direction where he thought Gargnuk was standing.
"It is your vault. You can take what you like," Gargnuk answered.
"Why don't you look at them Hermione and decide if there is something we should take out to look at later. We can put it in my staff. It keeps things safe. Even after I dropped it yesterday, everything inside was fine—even my potions vials and stuff. I checked," Harry said.
"Really, Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice rising with anticipation and she was already clambering past him to crawl over the piles of gold which cascaded a bit to reach the books.
He could hear her carefully handling the tomes and smelled the dust that rose from their pages as she opened them.
"Oh, Harry. These are amazing. Such old books—potion recipes and histories. There are even illustrations of magical animals… And it looks like some of them are about your family! There are photographs, too… Oh, Harry!" She choked back a sob.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"There's a photo album from your first year when you were a baby," Hermione said, tears evident in her voice. He could hear her turning crinkling pages, "They look so happy. You look so happy."